#and then we pick up the banner again and KEEP FIGHTING

[not-that-taliesin]

sometimes it’s hard to get up and do the things i need to do, even out of love. sometimes my fuel is spite. whatever helps you to survive to the next day is what you need to do. i’ll be damned if they force my hand against myself. the bastards are gonna have to kill me first!!!

[writersblockiskillingme]

The Great War | Finnick Odair

Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Summary: After everything that you've been through during the rebellion you finally found the peace with Finnick.

Warning/s: angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, war, weapons (reader has a knife), bow and arrows, trident, axe, syringe, violence, fighting, Katniss gets struck by lightning, blood, trust issues, attempted suicide (not graphical, but it's talked about), wounds, pills, trauma, Finnick ALMOST dying, Snow's execution and Coin's death, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Once again, a fic inspired by Taylor Swift's song (are we really surprised?)

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

The heat was getting to your head, it was staring to be too much. It already was.

The holes in your bodysuit that were the consequence of the poisonous fog were everywhere it seemed like. Your hair was sticking to your face because of the sweat from the intense heat and exhaustion. You gripped your knife that seemed to fit you a little too perfectly. The golden earing that Haymitch gifted you so that Katniss could recognize you as one of her allies was hitting the side of your face as you ran to the lightning tree.

You were terrified. You were in on the plan to get Katniss out, of course. Everyone except Katniss and Peeta was.

You did your part. You joined Johanna and cut out the tracker inside of Katniss' arm. But that's when things went wrong. One of the carriers attempted to attack you. It was dark, tropical trees were everywhere, you couldn't see anything. You didn't know who attacked you. All you knew was that you pushed Katniss away to keep her hidden and Johanna ordered you to run while she distracted the person who tried to attack. For a moment you stood there frozen, hesitant. Johanna Mason then swinged her axe at you and you had no choice but to bolt away as fast as you could.

Your mind was racing too fast. Finnick. Katniss. You had to get to that tree to make sure that they are there. That they are okay because you were one hundred percent sure that if they weren't you would lose your mind. You would become the madness itself.

You didn't hear anything but two pairs of footsteps running somewhere north from you. You kept running, trying to ignore the intense dehydration, heat and exhaustion. But as you didn't hear nor see Johanna after a while you started to seriously regret your decision.

You pushed your was through to the lightning tree. You didn't have time to catch your breath because it was immediately knocked out of you as you saw Katniss pointing her arrow at Finnick. He was still holding his trident, but you know that he wouldn't use it even if she did shoot him.

"Katniss!" Your raspy voice yelled out, Finnick immediately turned to you. A look of relief washing over him as he saw you.

"Remember who the real enemy is." Finnick reminded the girl on fire and at that moment realization washed over her. You could see it.

She looked at Beetee who was unconscious behind her. The coil was still there. She quickly picked it up, wrapping it around her arrow before pointing it at the sky.

At that moment both fear and adrenaline washed over you. She was going to blow up the arena once the lightning strikes the tree.

"Katniss!" Finnick's voice rang out. "Get away from that tree!"

You started to panic. You were getting out of time. Finnick, Katniss, Beetee and you were the only ones who came. Johanna was nowhere to be found. Peeta didn't return yet. Your ever racing mind pushed you to run towards Finnick as fast as you could.

"Katniss, get away from that tree!" Finnick's voice rang out once more before you saw it.

Katniss pointed at the sky, the lightning striked the tree and she let the arrow fly.

The last thing that you saw was the bright light from the lightning, a bloody screams that left Katniss' and your mouths and a painful grunt from the love of your life before the mere force of the lightnings hit sent you flying into the trees behind you before the darkness overtook you.

°

Once you woke up everything was hurting you. You felt so numb. You felt so numb yet you somehow felt everything. It was truly horrific.

The oxygen mask was planted onto your face as your eyes scanned the unknown territory. Everything was white and so clean. You turned your head to the side and spotted Katniss Everdeen, still knocked out beside you, and Beetee, not that far away from you. He was still unconscious, too. At that moment, you felt panic arise in your chest, consuming you. Where was Finnick?

You violently ripped the oxygen mask from your face as you stood up, ignoring the sharp pain that traveled across your body. What were you going to do? You patted your thigh, but your knife was gone. You knew that you weren't thinking rationally, but you never did when it came to him.

You spotted a see-through box a few feet away from you. A syringe was in there. It was filled with an unknown liquid, but you guessed that someone knocked you unconscious with this so you took the risk as you placed the syringe in the palm of your hand.

You strolled silently towards the door. You jumped a bit as the door suddenly opened. You raised the syringe in the air, ready to attack anyone who stood behind the door if you needed to.

You felt yourself slowly lowering the syringe in your hand as you saw who stood in front of you. Haymitch and Plutarch Heavensbee. You made it. You were relatively safe. But not seeing Finnick didn't calm your nerves. If anything it just fueled the fire in your veins.

"Where is Finnick?" You hissed out, your voice dangerously lowered that you scared yourself for a brief moment. You knew that you probably looked like a mad woman, but you didn't really find it in yourself to care.

"Y/N." Haymitch slowly approached you, he raised his hands in the air in front of him as an attempt to both calm you down and show you that he won't hurt you. "He's here. On the chair, he's still unconscious."

You turned to look at the side that Haymitch was pointing at and there he was. In a blue shirt that was too big for him. You threw the syringe onto the desk in the middle of the room as you stared at him. Relief washing over you like the waves back at your District.

"What happened while I was out?" You asked Haymitch waiting for an explanation as you didn't take your eyes off of Finnick.

"We couldn't rescue Johanna and Peeta." Haymitch sighed, he was obviously afraid that you would try to attack again and this time succeed after you hear the news that he had for you. "They still have trackers in their arms. We cut Finnick's, Beetee's and yours out after we rescued you."

He stopped here and you waited. You waited for his words to finally hit you.

"The Capitol took Peeta and Johanna."

Out of nowhere, the darkness overtook you once again. The last thing you remember was Haymitch catching you in his arms and Finnick yelling out your name.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War

The room of the hospital wing at District 13 was dimly lit. The cold metal walls of one of the hospital rooms felt like they were closing in on you, cutting the space for you to breath. Perhaps that was one of the reasons as to why your breaths came in ragged gasps as you suddenly woke up from your state. You sat up in your bed, sweat-soaked and still trembling. Another nightmare. The same one that haunted your every dream, every night, since the first night that you left the arena from your games. The arena, the blood, the faces of those you had to kill. Everything came back to haunt you once again.

Suddenly the door slid open with a harsh, quick movement.

Finnick slept in the room next door. You knew he was there, even before you heard the footsteps approaching. Pretty soon your suspicions were proven to be correct. There he was, shirtless and disheveled, concern etched on his face.

"Y/N." He whispered, crossing the room in a few strides. His arms enveloped you, pulling your crying, shaking form close to him providing the protection that you needed. "Another nightmare?"

You felt yourself nod, burying your face in his chest as you tried your hardest to just dissappear. His skin was warm against your cold, tear stained cheek, a stark contrast to the icy memories that plagued you.

"I can't escape them, Finnick." Your voice shook, a sob at the tip of your lips. "Their screams, the blood... everything. I relive it each and every night since that year."

He held you tighter, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back.

"You're safe here now, darling." He murmured. "We're in 13. The Capitol can't touch us here." He talked, as if he tried to remind you where you are right now, trying to pull you away from the horrific nightmare that he was oh so familiar with himself.

"The guilt is eating me alive." Your voice cracked, a silent tear sliding down your cheek. "I killed them. How can I possibly live with that?"

Finnick tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His sea-green eyes bore into yours, fierce and unwavering.

"My love, listen to me." His soft voice spoke to you. "We all did what we had to do. The Games were a nightmare, but we made it out. We're alive."

"But at what cost?" Tears welled up, threatening to spill. "I can't forget their faces. The ones I killed. The ones that I left behind..."

"You promised me something, remember?" He wiped a lost tear away with his thumb. "Back before I was forced to send you into that arena alone. You promised me that you will survive and come back to me. You did."

"I know, but-"

"No buts." His voice was firm, it reminded you of the time that he trained you before you went into the arena for the first time. Back when you two were just a mentor and a tribute, nothing more. "You're so much stronger than you think you are, love. We all carry scars, but they don't define us. I want you to promise me something now."

"And that is?" You asked him as you kept your eyes on him.

"Promise me that you won't cry anymore. Not because of the Capitol or the nightmares. We survived, Y/N. And we'll keep surviving."

You hesitated, but then you nodded. "I promise."

"Good. Now get some rest. I'll be right here when you wake up." Finnick pressed his lips to your forehead, a gentle kiss that sent warmth through your veins.

As you settled back against the pillows, his arms were still wrapped around you, giving you sense of protection you came to a realization that maybe you could find comfort in the darkness that seemed to constantly try to consume you. With Finnick by your side, the nightmares seemed less terrifying, and the promise that you made him that night felt like it will last a lifetime.

And so, in the quiet of that hospital room in District 13, underground, you closed your eyes, vowing to keep your promise. No more fear, you knew that you would be all right as long as your love was next to you.

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

The sterile white walls of District 13's hospital pressed in on you, suffocating you, stripping you of fresh air that your lungs needed right now. You sat at the edge of your hospital bed, your fingers tracing the material of the purple medical bracelet around your waist that said that you were "Mentally disoriented". The label of the chaos that boiled within you.

The doctors came and went, you heard their voices, but they didn't reach your brain, your messed up mind. They offered so many pills, you didn't even know what pill was for what anymore. They offered therapy sessions and worst of all, sympathetic glances. They looked at you like you were broken and you were, but you hated it with burning passion. Yet after all of that, you couldn't trust them. Not after everything that you went through. The arena, the cruelty of the Capitol, the loss of your friends. The nightmares that still clung to you like shadows, following your every step, and the darkness that constantly threatened to swallow you whole.

Finnick sat beside you. His hand brushed against yours, a silent reassurance. His eyes held a depth of understanding. The kind of understanding that came only from someone who survived the horrors too immense to name.

"You don't have to face this alone." He said softly. His voice was your lifeline, pulling you back from the endless abyss. "Y/N, let them help you."

"They don't understand, Finnick." You whispered in the quietness of the room. "They can't understand."

"Maybe not, but I do." His thumb traced circles on your palm.

"Finnick, I-" You met his gaze, the weight of your pain reflected in his sea-green eyes.

Before you could finish, though, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It was a desperate kiss, fueled by fear and longing. His mouth tasted of salt and the sea.

"Don't shut me out." He murmured against your lips, his voice sweater then honey. "I can't lose you, too."

"I'm broken, Finnick." Tears welled up blurring your vision.

"No." He said fiercely. "You're not broken. You're a survivor. And you're mine."

Finnick pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you were fragile glass. His heartbeat echoed against your chest, a rhythm of hope.

"Promise me." He whispered. "Promise me that you won't try to leave me behind again."

The memory of the razor blade, the cold metal against your skin, haunted you. You'd wanted an escape, a way to silence the screams of your fellow tributes that echoed in your mind. But the doctors had intervened, wrestling the blade from your trembling hand.

"I promise." You choked out. "But what if I can't keep it?"

"Then I'll be here." He vowed, his grip on your hands tightened. "Every step of the way. We'll fight this darkness together."

And so, in the sterile hospital room that you were forced to stay in, Finnick and you clung to each other. The fragile threads of two broken souls entwined. Finnick's love was a lifeline, pulling you back from the blink. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to believe that survival was possible. Even when the nightmares threatened to consume you.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, the burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

Uh-huh

Uh-huh

The air was thick with tension, the walls of District 13 trembling as the Capitol’s bombs rained down upon them. Finnick now stood alongside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. His sea-green eyes were filled with worry, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest once again.

The lockdown sirens blared, drowning out the screams of panic echoing through the corridors. People rushed past you, seeking shelter, but you and Finnick remained rooted to the spot. The world outside seemed to blur as you clung to each other, seeking solace in the midst of chaos.

“Y/N.” Finnick whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll get through this. Somehow we always do.”

You nodded, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. His stubble scratched against your skin, a familiar sensation that grounded you. The Capitol had taken so much from both of you—the Games, the torture, the loss—but here, in this moment, you had each other.

The bombs continued to fall, shaking the ground beneath your feet. You pressed your cheek against Finnick’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His hand slid down to your lower back, holding you close as if he could shield you from the destruction outside.

“I love you.” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the chaos everywhere around you. “After all this is over, I promise I won’t fight anymore. No more battles, no more bloodshed.”

Finnick’s grip tightened. “Y/N, you don’t have to—”

“No.” You interrupted. “I mean it. We’ve both seen enough violence, lost enough people. If we survive this war, I want a different life. A peaceful one. With you.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

“A peaceful life...” he repeated, as if testing the words. “Together.”

“Together.” You nodded, your heart swelling with determination.

And so, as the bombs continued to fall, you made a silent vow. You would survive this war, not for the rebellion or for justice, but for the chance to hold Finnick Odair in your arms without fear. To build a future where love could flourish, where scars could heal, and where promises were kept.

In the chaos of District 13’s lockdown, you clung to each other, two souls battered by the storm. But love was your anchor, and as long as you had that, you knew you could weather anything—even the wrath of the Capitol.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you

The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering fluorescent bulbs casting eerie shadows on the cold metal walls. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for Finnick. The room where the victors were supposed to meet felt like a prison. A place where memories of the Games and the Capitol’s cruelty still lingered.

The rebellion had succeeded. The Capitol was in chaos, its once-mighty regime crumbling. But victory came at a cost. The mutts, the twisted, genetically engineered creatures, had nearly taken Finnick from you. Katniss had told you about it, her voice raw with emotion. How he’d fought tooth and nail, how he’d almost been torn apart.

And now, as you waited, your fingers trembling, you couldn’t shake the image of his bloodied form from your mind. The way he’d looked at you before leaving for that final mission, the promise in his eyes, the unspoken words that he will return to you alive, in one piece. You’d clung to that promise, held it close like a fragile flame in the darkest of nights.

The door creaked open, and there he was, Finnick Odair, the boy with the sea-green eyes and the tragic past. His hair was disheveled, his skin pale, but he was alive. He stepped into the hallway, and you rushed to him, throwing your arms around his neck. His scent, the salt of the sea that carried itself back from your home, the tang of sweat, filled your senses, and you buried your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“Finnick.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You’re here. You’re alive.”

His arms tightened around you, and for a moment, you forgot about the war, the mutts, the bloodshed. It was just the two of you, clinging to each other like shipwreck survivors in a stormy sea.

“I promised, didn’t I?” His voice was hoarse, but there was a hint of a smile. “I always keep my promises.”

You pulled away, your hands delicately framing his face. His cheek was bruised, a gash running along his jawline. But his eyes, they held a fierce determination, a fire that refused to be extinguished.

“You idiot!” you said, your voice trembling. “You almost died.”

“But I didn’t. And I won’t. Not as long as you’re here.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you kissed him, desperate, hungry, as if you could swallow away the pain, the fear, the memories. His lips were warm, tasting of salt and survival. And in that kiss, you made a silent vow, a promise of your own.

“After this war...” you whispered against his mouth, “we’ll find a place where the sea meets the sky. Somewhere far from the Capitol, far from the Games. We’ll heal, Finnick. Together.”

He kissed you again, and this time, it was slow, tender. “Together.” he murmured. “Always.”

And so, in the hallway of broken dreams, you held each other, two fractured souls seeking solace. The victors’ meeting could wait. For now, all that mattered was this fragile moment, the taste of salt, the warmth of love, and the promise of a future beyond the horrors of Panem.

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

The air in District 13 was thick with tension as the rebels gathered to witness the execution of President Snow. The Capitol had fallen, and the weight of years of suffering and loss hung heavily on everyone's shoulders. Finnick, like always, stood beside you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as you both faced the president.

The crowd murmured, their collective breaths held. The noose tightened around Snow's neck, and the man who had orchestrated so much pain and death finally met his end. You didn't feel relief; instead, a hollow emptiness settled within you. The cycle of violence had consumed too many lives, and you wondered if it would ever truly end.

After the execution, you and Finnick retreated to your small quarter that was given to you at the presidential palace. You packed the few belongings you had left, folding clothes and tucking away mementos. Finnick watched you, his eyes shadowed by the ghosts of the arena.

"Y/N." he said softly, breaking the silence. "We've survived so much. But now… maybe it's time for something different."

You turned to face him, your heart aching. "Different how?"

He stepped closer, cupping your cheek. "Peace, Y/N. We've fought, bled, and lost. Maybe it's time we find our own peace."

His words resonated within you. You thought of the horrors you'd witnessed—the Hunger Games, the rebellion, the deaths of friends. The scars ran deep, and you wondered if healing was even possible.

As if sensing your turmoil, Finnick pulled you into his arms. His embrace was both tender and desperate.

"We finally get to leave." he murmured against your hair. "Find a quiet place in 4, away from the chaos. Somewhere we can heal."

"But Katniss…" you began, thinking of the broken girl who had become the Mockingjay.

Finnick kissed your forehead. "Katniss will find her way. She's strong. And she has Peeta."

°

The next morning, you stood with Finnick on the platform in front of the train that would take you to District 4. Katniss approached, her eyes red-rimmed from grief and exhaustion. You took her hands, feeling the weight of her pain.

"Katniss, don't do this to yourself anymore, I beg you." Your soft voice reached her ears. "After everything… we'll try to find the peace we all deserve. I hope you find it too."

"Also, there is something that Finnick and I wanted to let you know before we leave the Capitol." you said gently.

She looked at you, her expression wary.

"I'm pregnant." you announced and Finnick's grip on your waist tightened.

Katniss blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "Pregnant?"

"Yes." you confirmed. "And Finnick and I… we've had enough bloodshed. It's time for us to find peace. Back at 4. Because we both know that we can't do it here at the Capitol."

Katniss's lips trembled. "Take care of each other." she whispered. "And write to me. Tell me whatever you need."

"We will." Finnick promised, placing a hand on her shoulder as he spoke. "And Katniss, find your own peace too. You deserve it the most."

As the train pulled away, you glanced back at Katniss. She stood there, a lone figure, watching you both leave. The world outside blurred, and you clung to Finnick's hand, knowing that this journey was about more than survival, it was about reclaiming life, love, and hope.

Together, you and Finnick leaned against the window, watching the landscape rush by. The Capitol, the districts, and the scars of war faded into the distance. Ahead lay an uncertain future, but for the first time, it felt like freedom.

And as the train carried you away, you whispered to the wind.

"Peace, Katniss. May you find it too."

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Uh-huh, we're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the coast. You sat on the weathered driftwood, your sundress billowing in the breeze. The waves crashed against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that matched the beat of your heart.

Finnick was out there, his laughter carried by the wind. He chased their little daughter, her giggles like music. She had his sea-green eyes and your stubborn spirit. Her tiny feet left imprints in the wet sand, and you watched them both, the man you loved and the child you'd brought into this world.

His white shirt clung to his chest, the fabric darkened by saltwater. His light brown pants were soaked, but he didn't care. Finnick had always been at home in the sea, a merman with secrets hidden beneath his skin.

You traced the delicate band on your finger, the wedding ring. The day you'd vowed to be one with Finnick forever played in your mind. The sun had been just as golden then, and the waves had whispered promises. You'd said "I do" with the ocean as your witness, and it felt like the universe itself had blessed your union.

Beside you layed Katniss' letter. Her words echoed in your head, a mix of sorrow and hope. She'd lost so much, fought so hard. But now, finally, there was peace. Peeta was by her side, both of them were healing together. The Mockingjay had found her song and it was a bittersweet melody.

You closed your eyes, feeling the salt spray on your skin. The sea had witnessed your love, your pain, and your victories. It had taken so much from you, the Games, the rebellion, the scars etched into your soul. But it had also given you Finnick, your anchor in this tumultuous world.

As if sensing your thoughts, Finnick approached. His hair was tousled, his smile soft. He sat beside you, your daughter nestled in his arms. She clutched a seashell, her eyes wide with wonder.

"She's growing up so fast." you murmured, leaning into Finnick's warmth.

"Too fast." He kissed your temple.

You glanced at the horizon. The sun was a fiery ball, sinking into the water. "Katniss wrote that Peeta and her found peace."

"It's about time." Finnick nodded.

"We've all shed enough blood for an eternity, perhaps even more than that." You rested your head on his shoulder.

He intertwined his fingers with yours. "Maybe now we can heal."

The waves whispered their agreement. You looked at your daughter, at the man who'd become your heart.

"We'll find our peace too, won't we?"

Finnick pressed his lips to your forehead. "After everything… we deserve it."

And as the sea sang its ancient song, you knew that love, like the tides, would flow. But here, by the coast, with Finnick and your daughter, you found solace. The wedding ring glinted in the fading light, a promise etched in metal.

Katniss's words echoed once more:

"May you find peace."

And you believed that you finally had.

Uh-huh

Uh-huh

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

Uh-huh

I vowed I would always be yours

->

->

->

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@randomgurl2326 @caroline-books @hellonheels-x @livingdead-reilly @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[emeritusemeritus]

Hear me out! Possessive sex + Overstimulation + Brat Taming + Breeding. Both of the Weasley Twins please. 🤭

I just always have this thought of just teasing the shit out of them when they’re work and fleeing afterwards. It’s almost as if we took their job of teasing us, and I could just imagine how pent up and frustrated they can be when they can’t do anything since there’s kids and adults around. The joke shop is suppose to be an appropriate place especially when it’s meant mainly for kids..Perhaps, add a part where we purposefully flirt with one of our old classmates. You can choose who! If you don’t like this idea, I completely understand! Feel free to add some kinks if you like or story elements. 🫶

Hi Anon! I’m so sorry it has taken so long to get this out, writing has had to be on the back-burner for now but I’m slowly getting back! Sorry for the lack of smut, it’s more of the setup as I’m abit smutted out 🖤

Warnings: Sexual tension, brat behaviour, Dom!sub relationships, polyamory, teasing, sexual references, mild swearing. Flirting, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, breeding kink.

Word count: 2.5k

Wonder Witch

You knew what you were getting into the second you opened up your wardrobe and changed into the outfit you'd carefully prepared for today. Your husbands had already long since departed the flat to set up the shop for the day, leaving you just a little later to sleep in, which you were thankful for.

Today was the big launch of new wonder witch products that the twins had been tirelessly working on, perfecting the range ready for the big launch today. You'd helped with ordering violently pink balloons to decorate every orifice of the shop, had banners printed and had even managed to convince Madame Puddifoot's to make some limited edition iced biscuits for the celebration, all in the same sickening shade of pink.

The icing on the cake was the costume that you'd picked out ready to hand out and display the new items, recreating the wonder witch icon on the packaging.

The dress in itself wasn't too risky, an array of pink and gold overlapping fabric that fell just above your knee, with a pointed witches hat in a smilies style. But it also had exposed shoulders with dropped sleeves and a corseted middle which hoisted in your waist to create a rather dramatic shape, highlighting your hips in a way that you knew would drive your husbands crazy. You carefully curled your hair and applied a healthy dose of mascara to really make your eyes pop before applying an equally vibrant lipsticks that you'd found matched the colour of wonder witch perfectly. You added a little highlighter around your cheeks to give you a little bit more of a playful look and slipped on your shoes to really help bring the look together.

When you looked in the mirror, you were more than pleased with yourself. You looked hot.

Checking the clock, you saw that it was 8:53am, just in time for the store to open. You could hear the twins flapping, mainly George, the moment you opened the door towards the staircase. They were bustling ready for the big opening and the unsurprising lack of Verity meant that she was probably going to be late again.

"Angel can you put these products on the... shit." George says the second you walk down the stairs, noticing the outfit almost immediately.

"What's up with you?" Fred asks, walking over to George under the staircase until he comes into full view, noticing that his twin seems to be frozen on the spot. He turns, looking towards the direction George seems frozen at and you watch as his eyes widen also comically wide. "Holy Godric."

"Morning," you say cheerfully, leaning up to press a kiss to George's cheek before doing the same to Fred as they look at you in complete shock, mouths slightly parted. "Where do you want me?"

"Um," George says, clearing his throat though his eyes hardly move from the curve of your breasts, a prominent feature of your dress. You fight the urge to laugh, wanting to keep up your little innocent play, pretending that you had no idea why they were looking at you like that.

"You want these on the shelf?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at them, watching as Fred's tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

The little clock on the wall chimes, signalling the store opening, just as you bend down to grab the box of products and you look up with pouting lips, watching as the twins hardly react to the chimes.

"You gonna unlock the doors big boy?" You ask Fred with a singular raised eyebrows, noticing how he doesn't even attempt to pull out his wand. A frantic knock on the doors pulls him out of his thoughts and you all turn to see Verity knocking to be let it, surrounded by a large crowd of customers ready to shop the new products. You flash a little wink at George as Fred unlocks the doors with a flick of his wand, the fireworks and the tricks beginning all in perfect synchronisation. When you look back up after picking up the box of products and see your two men still staring at you, completely unaware of the swarm of customers bursting through the doors, you knew today was going to be fun.

The store was packed right from opening, a never-ending swarm of people crossing through the doors until the shop was almost too full of people, all wanting to get their hands on the new merchandise. It was an overwhelming success, the new line of wonder witch products and cosmetics and you were thankful, fortunate and insanely proud of your husbands for pulling off the ideas you'd created together. You should have been tired, drained from the day as it neared closing time but truthfully you were on an adrenaline high, on cloud nine from teasing your husbands all day and seeing their increasing desperation.

All day you'd made sure to be a little bit of a brat, an utter tease whilst trying to portray yourself as an innocent Angel- something you knew for a fact that they didn't believe in the slightest.

George was easier to rile up, always quicker to respond to your more subtle teasing. You'd brushed past him a number of times today, the packed shop only aiding your need to slowly brush your ass against the front of his trousers as you squeezed past him or to pass something up to Verity on the stairs, ensuring that he got a face full of cleavage as you stretched up. You'd caught him staring at you more times today than you could count on all your extremities, especially when you climbed the stairs above him, ensuring that he knew your bare thighs were right above him.

Fred didn't always respond to subtlety, so you knew your efforts had to be boosted when it came to him. You'd purposely licked and sucked at one of the dark mark lollipops in the most outrageous way whenever he was paying attention and you'd even heard him choke on his own spit when he noticed.

You knew you had him when you were explaining to a group of seventh year girls about the patented daydream charms and how how they worked, passing out the colourful boxes items around the group as they accepted them with eager and curious eyes.

"Up to thirty minutes of pure, blissful imagination; let me tell you it will create a very realistic daydream of your choice so you know that boy you're crushing on? You're going to have the best thirty minutes of your life."

You're met with a round of playful giggles as you smile at them, knowing you were in for a good sale.

"Have you used it?" One of the girls asks and you nod eagerly with a smirk, knowing that Fred was just behind you from the way you could feel his presence, hearing him talk only moments before.

"Not since I married him," you say with a smirk as you receive another round of girlish giggles. "Between us, those thirty minutes with Fred were some of my most imaginative creations, believe me these little things are special," you say, twisting the box in your hands. "Just don't tell George." You watch as the girls' eyes light up and they quickly shove them in their baskets. You turn then, catching Fred's eye as he pretends not to have been listening and you act as if you're bashful about what he might have heard, placing a strand of hair nervously behind your ear as you walk away, making sure to sway your hips ever so slightly, knowing he'd be watching.

By lunchtime, you'd effortlessly riled them up to a point that it was so painfully obvious what they were trying to hide that you found yourself biting back a smirk for most of the day. They were so easily and deeply affected that it was rather fun to watch, but none more so than when Dean Thomas came into the shop just after the dinner time rush. You'd taken a quick break and had reapplied your lipstick, carefully checking you appearance before you walked down the stairs back to work. Dean had been talking to both of your lives near the stairs when he spotted you, eyes briefly widening as he took in your appearance. Unfortunately for him, Fred had been mid sentence and had definitely noticed Dean checking you out, making his go silent and cause a thunderous look to cross his face.

"Y/n, hi! It's good to see you!" Dean smiles as you approach them all, careful to avoid looking at the faces of your husbands who had now both caught on to Dean's over-pleasant demeanour.

"Dean, good to see you too!"

"You look good! Who knew that y/n (*maiden name) would become wonder witch!" His hands gesture towards your outfit and then to the display of new products to the side with your likeness on.

"It's Weasley," both twins said a little too quickly, in perfect synchronisation, making you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop a laugh spilling out at their obvious jealously.

"Of course," Dean says somewhat absently, not picking up on the sudden hostility aimed at him by the shop-owners. "So what have you been up to? Do you see the others much?"

"Didn't ask us this many questions," you hear George mumble under his breath to Fred, who has crossed his arms across his chest and is hardly blinking, watching Dean closely.

"The usual," you smile, shooting a fleeting glance at your two husbands who's red faces seem to match their hair. "Keeping these two in line, keeping the shop afloat," you joke.

"So no little Weasley's running about yet?"

You could almost sense the little eye twitch George did at the words and you were certain that Fred seemed to stand even straighter, making himself even taller to tower over Dean.

"Hopefully soon," you say, biting your lip and George's eyes flicker to you with a fire in them, your words affecting him more easily than you'd anticipated. Fred seemed to incidentally lose his footing and was knocked off balance for a second, breaking the rather playful mood that had settled between you and Dean.

After Dean had left with a few things he'd come for, you finally accepted your fate and let the veil slip enough to drop the innocent act you'd been playing all day. Fred had cornered you beside the till, a stolen moment of peace as you reached high up to re-stock the daydreams, flashing him with a glimpse of your stocking.

"Really Freddie?" You pretended to admonish as you felt his rather prominent evidence of arousal against your hip as he started to get grabby with you, nearing the end of his restraint. "This is a respected establishment Mr Weasley, there are children about!"

You shuffled past him with a little tut, hiding your smirk behind your hair, leaving him stranded with mouth agape at your sudden boldness. George wasn't faring much better, his eyes still fixed on the curve of your breasts whenever he caught a glimpse, silently watching you rile him up further and further as your act slipped away.

With one last attempt at completely flipping the switch inside of them, throwing them over the metaphorical cliff, you doubled down your efforts. It was nearly closing time and you walked slyly over to the cash register whilst George was cashing up for the night and began stretching, pointing out your chest and making some very questionable noises. You adjusted the little cold shoulder straps on your dress and readjusted your breasts in the dress, sensing your attentive audience of George who was close by and Fred who had stopped what he was doing to watch you from across the shop. You suddenly turned and walked behind George, placing your hand on his hip as you squeezed past to reach for a carrier bag, carefully dragging your hand over his lower back as you leaned down. When you began to turn and walk away, you felt a large hand shoot out and grab your wrist.

“Angel.”

His tone was clear and clipped, telling you everything you needed to do.

“I know exactly what you’re doing,” he says, moving to stand behind you in the near empty shop, an obvious erection pressing into your behind. “Keep going little brat, you’re only fuelling the fire.”

When he lets you go and turns back to his task with no other reaction, you knew it was time to slip away. You rushed up the stairs, carefully avoiding both of them, ready for the next step of the plan. You’d prepped dinner on your lunch break, wanting to get ahead for the night and flicked the oven on with a flick of your wand as soon as you made it upstairs. You kicked off your shoes, pulled off your panties and waited, busying yourself to ward off the desperate arousal you were feeling, anticipating a good but long night ahead.

As soon as you heard the familiar, incoming footsteps on the landing, you bent over in your skirt to slip the pie into the oven, giving them quite a show when they walked in.

“Fucking Godric,” you heard Fred exclaim when he stepped through the door, followed by a similar curse only moments later by his twin as they see your pussy on full display for them, peeking out from below the short skirt as you bend over.

“Princess,” he says, beginning to stalk over to you as you pulled yourself up, closing the oven. You looked at them innocently, big doe-eyes and fluttering lashes as you watched them darkly approach you.

“You were naughty today,” George says, his hand reaching out to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you into a devastatingly sinful kiss that immediately makes your nipples harden under the dress. You gasp into his mouth when you suddenly feel a hand creeping up your inner thigh, underneath your dress.

“Remember what you said to Dean, princess?” Fred asks, voice dangerously low, prompting you to nod whilst trying to catch your breath. You knew exactly what you’d said, what you’d hoped for.

“Reckon we should start now?” He asks, his hand ghosting over the curve of your ass, feeling the bare flesh underneath his fingers. “Want you knocked up right fucking now.”

“Agreed,” George adds, somehow looking and sounding ever darker and more determined than Fred. George suddenly reaches out and turns off the oven with a harsh flick of his wrist, smirking when you look up at him in confusion at him turning off the oven.

“We’re not gonna be done with you that soon,” he says with a devilish smirk. “Gonna cum in you over and over, taking turns filling you. There’s gonna be so much cum in you that you won’t know where you start and we end, get you all round from us. Now.”

“Get on the bed.”

[phoward89]

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: Coriolanus doesn't do feelings, but he finds himself comforting you during a breakdown. A breakdown that you had because you were voted to be the female tribute for District 12 during the First Quarter Quell.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus,mentions of blood, cussing, um that's pretty much it

Story Masterlist

Chapter 6:

After sharing a deep moment with Coriolanus over poisons, you helped him out of his sitting chair and towards the direction of his room- your shared room. He gruffly protested, saying that he didn't need help.

But you insisted on helping him. His large frame felt frail as he leaned on your side, his arm draped over your shoulder as he let out painful, bloody coughs.

Looking up at him, you sighed. “I don't want to risk you falling out before reaching our room, Coryo. Just let me help you.” His icy eyes bite into you, so much conflict in them. You felt heavy under his stare, as if a ton weight was being pressed down on you. “You help me; I help you.” You told him, breaking the heaviness in the air. “You said I belong to you and that you’ll protect me, won't let anything hurt me again. Well, it works both ways, Coryo. You belong to me too; I have to take care of you too.”

Your words touched him, made any fight he had against your help disappear.

Coriolanus wasn't used to having a woman dote on him with gentle care. No, he hasn't had that in years.

Not since he returned to the Capitol from his time serving in the peacekeepers in 12. Tigris grew cold to him upon his return; never showed him tenderness again.

Locked up right in the back of his mind were the cherished memories of his mother cuddling him and singing him loving lullabies. Coriolanus lost her too soon when she died during childbirth with his baby sister.

That loss, although he acts like he's gotten past it, haunts a part of his soul. A part that he's forgotten long ago.

But with your tenderness and care towards him. Worrying about his well-being. Well, it made him realize that he’s touch starved and needs a woman's softness to comfort him, to soothe his demons.

“Well, Y/N, it looks like we'll just have to take care of each other then since, as you pointed out, we belong to each other.”

Are you ready to take care of a man? An older man with needs, with a sexual appetite? A man who has no moral compass? Who’ll drag you down to hell with him?

Ready or not, it's happening.

You're taking care of Coriolanus Snow; you're his til the day you die now.

Your soft words and concern filled actions sealed your fate.

“Come on, let's get you settled in bed.” You told your man as you guided him down the hallway. Secretly praying that Coryo wouldn't collapse before you could get him into bed. Because if he fell on the floor, well…he'd be staying there because you couldn't pick him up.

“You’ll be joining me, darling.” Coryo stated, not asked, as the door to your shared room got closer.

“Yea.” You nodded. “But between your bloody coughing and my nightmares, I don't think we'll get much sleep.”

“Then, my darling rose, we'll just rest, side by side, until we can't fight off our sleep any longer.” He said, his timbre deep, but smooth, as you opened the bedroom door and helped him steadily walk into it.

Sleep didn't come easy to you or Coriolanus.

His body’s convulsing with painful, bloody coughing fits while you refuse to sleep, your stubborn fear ruling over you.

You're too afraid of what you'll see once you close your eyes. You didn't want to relive your time in the arena; that seemed to happen every time you tried to sleep.

So, the only solution was to keep your eyes wide open as long as you could.

Since Coriolanus was coughing badly, spitting up blood and struggling to breath, he was laying by the edge of the bed with a small trash can by his side. You placed it there, after helping him strip to his boxers and settling him in bed, so he could use it to spit up blood in. You figured it'd be easier than him soaking thru hankies or struggling to make it to the bathroom to hack up blood.

This meant that you weren't sleeping next to him, like you did last night.

No.

Instead, you were on your side, looking out the large window while a considerable amount of space was between you and Coryo. You didn't want to bother him while he was coughing, plus you didn't want to be so close to him. You wanted, no needed, some breathing room.

After all, you’re still reeling from the games whether you want to admit it or not.

As you listened to him cough, shifting in bed to grab the small waste basket to spit up blood in, your mind drifted off to the day that the twist of this year's games was announced.

A cold, harsh winter day in January...

The Hunger Games are being held in a few short months and it’s your last year eligible for the drawing since you’re 18. You've been lucky that your name has never been called during these last few years. Your brother claims that the Gods (he found an old book series in the ratchety shack of the district 12 library and got into the mythological religion and lore in them) have something big planned for your life. Unlike Rein, you weren't a big believer in mystics, fate, or the Gods’ plans, but you did feel like you were meant for more than life in the depressed, cold, muddy coal district.

Your teachers at the high school felt that you were smart enough to qualify for training as a teacher or an internship at the apothecary once you graduated in a few months. You talked over your options with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, only to decide that you'd like to intern at the apothecary.

They even encouraged you to approach the Ashberry Apothecary and ask for an after school job. They said that since you were the smartest girl in school that the Ashberrys would be foolish not to consider giving you a job cleaning up the shop, let alone the internship come early summer.

So, you listened to your family and approached the Ashberrys about an after school job cleaning their shop and what not. And, to your joy, they hired you.

Well, Mr. Juris Ashberry hired you. His wife, Belladonna, didn't want you in her shop because she didn't want you around her son, Valerian ‘Val’. She thought that you might try to wiggle your way into his heart (and bed) to get out of the Seam and into the Merchant Sector.

Little did Mrs. Ashberry know, you could care less about her son. Val wasn't your type. He just didn't appeal to you.

He just seemed…you dunno…nice, but snotty. Like, he'd talk to you in the apothecary, but out on the streets in public he wouldn't be caught dead talking to you.

Yea…not your type…

You were sweeping up the floor in the apothecary while Val was leaning behind the counter, bored. Mr. and Mrs. Ashberry were out and about checking on patients in town, leaving just you and their son to watch the shop.

“Your shadow's coming up the bend.” Val warned, pointing to the shop window.

You looked up, only to see Corbin Everdeen, in that god awful sienna sweater his Auntie Maude Ivory knitted him, making a beeline to the shop. His bright, baby blues were locked onto the shop. It seemed like that was the only thing on his mind.

You internally groaned, not wanting to deal with your neighbor. You let him wear you down yesterday about listening to a new song he was writing.

It was called My Mother Told Me and was, basically, about acquiring a boat and sailing away to a distant land. You liked the guitar melody, but not the lyrics since it was literally the same few phrases repeated over and over again.

He didn't take your criticism well; chucked his guitar at your cat and stormed back to his house at the end of the street.

His Auntie Maude Ivory came over minutes later apologizing and asking for his guitar back.

Rein gave her the guitar back, but told the widow that her nephew wasn't welcomed back into your house. That he didn't appreciate her nephew trying to murder his sister's cat by throwing a guitar at it.

“He's not my shadow, Val. He's my neighbor.” You sighed, dreading the moment that Corbin reached the shop.

“Lock up the shop when your done sweeping up. I'm heading to the square for the mandatory group viewing of the games announcement being held in a few minutes.” Val told you before pushing himself up and away from the counter.

Oh, yea, that was today. You totally forgot that all of Panem had a scheduled mandatory viewing of an important message from President Ravenstill about the games today.

“Okay.” You simply nodded, sweeping the floor as the young man with cornsilk hair went over to the door.

You heard the bell ring, indicating that he left. You saw him walk away from the shop, only to cross paths with Corbin. They stopped for a minute, only to exchange a few polite words, before going on their own ways.

You were almost done sweeping whenever the doorbell chimed. “You almost done? I thought we could walk to the square to watch the announcement together.” Corbin asked, standing in the doorway.

Why he didn't walk further into the room, you didn't know. You thought it was weird how he's just standing in the doorway, staring at you as if he's trying to imagine what you look like underneath your dress.

God, Corbin's only 14 ½, he wouldn't be thinking dirty thoughts about you, would he?

No.

No, he's just your neighbor that has a hard time making friends since he's always daydreaming and making up songs. He doesn't mean anything by the way he's looking at you.

Well, your brother begs to differ. Rein thinks that Corbin likes you a little too much. Would prefer you not to spend too much time around him. Especially after last night's incident with the guitar and the cat.

“I was just about to lock up.” You told your neighbor, who was standing with his shoulders slumped; hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at you. His stare made you feel uneasy.

“But my my brother doesn't want you hanging around, so I better just walk to the square by myself.” You told him, hoping it'd make him leave, before sweeping your dirt pile into a dustpan and dumping the contents into a trashcan.

“Rein needs to calm down.” Corbin huffed as you put the broom and dustpan away in a small closet. “I didn't mean to scare your cat, Junebug. I just got upset that you hated my song and my guitar slipped. Hell, I wasn't even aiming it at the stupid cat.” He told you, running a hand through his dark curls, while you took your coat out of the closet and put it on.

You didn't want to walk to the main square with him, but it didn't look like you had any other choice.

“Don't call my cat stupid, Corbin Evergreen.” You ordered the boy, slamming the closet shut and crossing the room.

“Don't call me Evergreen, Y/N. You know I've been going by Everdeen ever since I was 11 and first met ‘cha.” Corbin told you before storming out of the shop.

His name was really Corbin Evergreen but when you first met him, he had a tiny lisp and you misheard his word as Everdeen instead of Evergreen. For some reason he decided to stick with Everdeen. He refused to answer to his former name of Corbin Evergreen, which was something that saddened his Aunt Maude Ivory.

You shook your head, not feeling up to dealing with Corbin Everdeen and his odd mannerisms. Sighing, you opened the door, set the lock on the doorknob, and walked out into the biting, cold late winter afternoon. Wrapping your arms around your middle, in a vain attempt to provide your body with more warmth, you sigh, “Let's get to the square.”

“Think maybe the big announcement is the games are being canceled?” The lanky boy next to you asked after a couple of minutes walking in silence.

“No.” You shook your head. Cancel the games. Ha, hell would freeze over first.

“They should cancel them.” Corbin told you, his tone full of disdain. You knew you were in for it. That he'd be going on a rant, like he always did when the games or when the tribute tour neared. “They're barbaric and the Capitol pigs watching and betting on the kids killing each other for shits and giggles each year should be strung up.”

Oh no, here he goes…

“And the worst of them all’s the head gamemaker, Snowball himself. God, that man needs to be taken outback and shot for the shit he lets go on in the arena. The fact he's strutting around in his luxury suits while the rest of us wear rags; sending our young to the slaughter for him to afford to buy those damn suits is fucking sick.” Corbin ranted as you got closer to the main square, where everyone in the District would be.

“Somebody should toss Snowball’s kids into the arena; see how he feels watching his babies fight for their lives while people bet on them like gamecocks in a fighting pit.”

“He doesn't have any kids, Corbin.”

The tall boy with the dark curls gave you a look and asked, “How'd you know that?”

“All the magazine articles only mention his wife. Same with any tv interviews.” You pointed out.

“Seems like the universe helped us dodge a bullet there. Bet his kid would be as cruel and corrupt as him.”

Little did you know, the universe didn't help you dodge that bullet. In fact, that bullet was dangerously close to piercing your skin…

You didn't know the head gamemaker, so you felt awkward listening to your neighbor bad mouth him. Rein and Ashlie, who joined your family about 3 years after your mother left, raised you with the golden rule. They also told you not to judge others until you walked a mile in their shoes. Despite enduring hardships to raise you, they taught you kindness. They also taught you the strength of perseverance.

Tired of the lanky, dark haired boy’s rant, you gave him the advice of, “You shouldn't talk about him like that. You don't know him; it's not nice to prejudge people.”

Corbin’s dark brows knitted together over his crystal blue eyes. He looked at you with disappointment and annoyance painted all over his face. “Junebug, don't give that man the benefit of a doubt. He designs the arenas that kids fight to the death in. He's not a good guy.”

“I'm going to find my brother.” You said, as a way to end the conversation with Corbin, while reaching the main square.

“A’ight.” He nodded. “I'll help you find him.” Corbin offered, only to follow you while you weaved in and out of the crowd.

It didn't take long to find your brother, Rein. He was standing in front of the Justice Building with Ashlie glued to his side.

Before you could ditch Corbin and make it to your family, he noticed them. Gesturing towards them, he grabbed your hand and said, “come on, I see them.”

You snatched your hand out of his, only to say, “I can make my way over to Rein and Ashlie without any help. Maybe you should find your Auntie Maude Ivory, cause I doubt my brother wants to see you right now.”

“Fine, I'll go find Auntie Maude. But, Y/N, your brother needs to calm down. Being so fired up over nothing, but a misunderstanding’s ridiculous.” Corbin grumbled before storming off into the crowd, head searching for his kin.

Rein seemed to notice you or mainly he noticed the exchange you had with Corbin. As soon as you came up to Rein and Ashlie, your brother pointed his cigarette at you and hisissed, “I don't like how Corbin's looking at you. It ain't normal, Y/N.”

“Don't worry about it, Rein.” You brushed off your brother. Honestly, you knew he was just looking out for you, but you didn't want to deal with his protective big brother antics right now.

Taking your brother's cigarette from his fingers and taking a drag, his girlfriend, Ashlie remarked, “Rein’s right, the way that Everdeen boy looks at you ain't right. Comes ‘cross like he'd steal you away or something by how eerie his stare is.”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to hear Panem's anthem sound out into the air, marking that in a second the president would appear on screen to make his announcement. Clamping your mouth shut, you turned your attention to the large projection screen that was set up right next to the platform of the Justice Building.

Once the music came to a stop, the Panem emblem that was on screen was replaced by the scene of President Ravenstill (who was a frail old man) standing at a podium. Behind him was a tall man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and cold, crystal blue eyes. You couldn't help, but feel a sense of deja vu about the eyes of the Head Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow.

Everyone in the square was glued to the TV screen as the president introduced himself with, “As you're all aware, the Gamemakers have come up with a way to remember the impact of the war. The Quarter Quell will mark a 25 year period, a milestone of the games, and will have a special theme for the Hunger Games. Head Gamemaker Snow has in his possession an envelope that holds the special theme for this year's first Quarter Quell.”

Turning to the man looming behind him, the president held out his hand for the envelope. Without a word, Head Gamemaker Snow pulled a gold encrusted envelope from his maroon coat pocket and handed it over to the president. President Ravenstill opened the envelope, only to announce, “As a reminder to everyone that it is the rebels fault for the games; for children being reaped, during this first Quarter Quell each District shall hold an election to vote for one male and one female tribute to send to the Capitol as tribute for the games.”

The president took a moment's pause only to end his speech with, “The Capitol has faith that each District shall vote to send their unwanted and rebel citizens to the arena.”

When the president sat down, much to everyone's surprise, Head Gamemaker Snow took the podium. “Don't forget, citizens of Panem, that the Victory Tour for the Victor of the 24th Hunger Games is next week. I hope that all of you, loyal citizens, join in on your district’s festivities and greetings for the victory tour.”

“Fucking pompous peacock asswipe wants us to be festive when the child killer he created gets paraded in our home. Fucking unbelievable.” You heard Corbin Everdeen loudly squawk from his spot a few yards away from you and your family. “Can't wait to see what bloody horrors he comes up with in this year's games considering Snowball’s having us send rebels and undesirables to the kiddie death match arena this go around.”

You were drawn out of your mental reverie down memory lane by a painfully rough timbre asking the question of, “Penny for your thoughts, darling?”

Looking over your shoulder, only to see Coriolanus slumped on the edge of the bed with blood staining the edge of his mouth, you retorted with, “I don't have any thoughts worth your penny.”

Your memory hit you with the hard reality that the man next to you, wheezing and barking with a bloody cough, was the reason behind your reaping. That it's his fault you even went to the games.

If he never gave President Ravenstill that golden envelope with the First Quarter Quell twist in it, then you never would've been reaped. Never would've been voted to be tribute in the Capitol's games.

Your district would've never sent you to die.

The weight of this sudden revelation was too much to bear.

“I can hear you thinking from over here, Y/N. What's the matter, my darling rose?” Coriolanus, the head gamemaker; the man who's the reason you got tossed into the games to fight for your life, asked as he tries to suppress his coughing.

Feeling overwhelmed, you snapped, “Don't call me that anymore. Coriolanus.”

The order took the man next to you off guard. He gave you a look, conveying that he was at a loss on where your sudden change of feelings stemmed from.

“I'm not your darling rose, I'm just the District 12 girl that got sent to die by everyone in her district because of your little twist on the reaping system.” You bitterly spat. Your body started to shake and you couldn't even look at the head gamemaker. “It's just dumb luck that I won. I wasn't supposed to win; nobody from 12 ever wins.”

Coriolanus attempted to confront you, even going as far as grabbing you and dragging you over to him. “Y/N, it's not my fault you got voted to participate in the games. The twist in the rules for the Quarter Quell was meant for the districts to send their troublesome and undesirables to the arena. It was never meant for-”

You pushed him away, which wasn't too hard since he was weak from the poison he ingested hours ago, and cut him off with a loud scream, “They sent me to die because of you!”

Coriolanus hated possessive and obsessive feelings (he won't dare say love, but you've managed to wiggle your way underneath his ribcage into his cold, dead, black heart) because they made him feel things such as hurt, guilt, empathy, etc. He hated feelings because they made him weak.

Right now, watching you have a breakdown because your district voted for you to be a tribute made him feel helpless and, in a way, guilty.

He hated feeling things.

He hates being weak.

He'd rather just feel lust for you coursing through his veins, but that wasn't the case tonight.

“They thought I wouldn't come back and everyone, everyone, back home sent me off to die as if I meant nothing. And they had the power to do it because of a fun new rule change.”

“Y/N…” Coriolanus sighed, scooting over slightly so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you into his chest, which felt like a thousand knives were stabbing it as an adverse effect of the poisoned wine he drank, he told you, “I'm sorry that they picked you to represent that backwater district, but it's not your home.” Using his free hand to tilt your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his, he reminded you, “Your home's here with me, in the Capitol, now. I promise, I won't let you get hurt ever again.”

Feeling another bloody cough threatening to take over him, the platinum blonde weakly shifted the both of you closer to the edge of the bed.

All the while you let out a cry of, “I never bothered anybody and I graduated top of my class. I had an internship at the apothecary, Coriolanus.” Your voice quivered as you wailed, “I never thought that they'd pick me to go die, but they did.”

Seeing you crying your beautiful eyes out over the fact that those dirty scumbags in the coal district sent you to the Capitol with the intention of you dying sent a pang right through his icy, cold, dead heart. It made his chest tighten seeing you so upset over your district choosing you, a very smart girl that's nothing like the other whores of District 12, to be the female tribute.

The platinum blonde man hated seeing you emotional over a bunch of assholes. Assholes that were worth less than the shit on the bottom of a boot. You're his Victor, his darling rose, and he can't have you falling apart over a filthy district full of uneducated hillbillies that mine coal underground all day.

Pulling you closer into his chest, while trying to fight off a bloody coughing fit, Coryo soothingly combed his long fingers through your hair while telling you, “I know, my darling rose. I know, it hurts that they picked you when they shouldn't have.” Pressing a kiss to your hair, he continued his attempts to soothe you. “But you survived despite what those district coal dust covered dogs thought.”

He let out a bloody cough, using his hand to cover his mouth so the blood splatter wouldn't hit you since your head's tucked under his chin; right against his chest.

Coriolanus’ words should've brought you comfort or at least calm you down a fraction, but they didn't. Right now, you feel like nothing could make you feel better.

Nothing, but the answer to the most important question circling your mind.

“Why did they pick me? I never did anything wrong.” You asked, looking up at Coriolanus with tears shining in your eyes.

Seeing tears falling from your eyes, staining your cheeks as you asked him a question he honestly didn't have the answer for gutted him. It made him feel weak and useless.

He hates feeling weak and useless.

Coriolanus made a mental note to ask Smiley, when he calls him up tomorrow to ask him for a favor concerning the acquisition of your apothecary book, to find out all the names of the people that voted for you to get sent into the games as tribute.

Despite what everyone thinks, the voting isn't anonymous. The Peacekeepers have records of who voted for who considering the grunts were the ones keeping track of and tallying the votes.

Anyways, Coriolanus was going to find out who voted for you and make them pay. Nobody makes his darling rose cry her eyes out and gets away with it.

Nobody sends what's his to the slaughter and gets away with it either.

Despite the fact that you weren't even with him at the time of your reaping, the platinum blonde wants to hurt and punish everyone that had a hand in hurting you.

Maybe he should look in the mirror and cuss himself out, since he's the mastermind behind the rules and the arena that caused you pain. But, Coriolanus Snow will never own up to it.

No….

He didn't play a hand in your tribute problems.

No….

It's those damn district drunks and whores that's to blame.

Coriolanus wiped away your tears with the rough pad of his thumb. “I don't know why they picked you, my darling rose.” Shushing you, he said, “You need to calm down, Y/N. You're with me and, remember, we promised to take care of each other; to keep each other safe.”

All you could do was nod your head in his chest and sniffle.

“You belong to me and I belong to you, remember?” Coriolanus asked, reminding you that he could be trusted, as he felt a coughing fit threatened to take over his body.

“Are you sure you want me to be yours, Coryo? I'm damaged goods now; the games changed me. I'm a mess.” You asked, the overwhelming feeling to start crying threatening to take over, as the man holding you let out a series of loud, biting, bloody coughs.

Coryo cleared his throat, feeling blood bubble up and slide down into the pit of his stomach. Not even thinking about wiping off his blood soaked hand, he placed his hand onto your back and began to run soothing circles. The blood stained your oversized sweater, most likely ruining it. But at this moment, blood staining a sweater didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was calming you down so you'd get some much needed sleep.

Coriolanus’ other hand softly petted your hair as a comforting gesture.

He leaned his head against his pillow, only to assure you, “You're not damaged, Y/N. You're a survivor; a victor.” You were slowly beginning to calm down as his timbre filled the air with, “Life's arena changes all victors, myself included, and the fact that you're strong enough to land on top makes you worthy enough to be mine.”

And you were his, whether you wanted to accept it or not. You'll always belong to him. Nothing could ever change that.

Because once Coriolanus Snow becomes obsessed with somebody, he'll smother them in his hold and never let them go.

You just happened to be the recipient of his obsession. All because when he saw you walk onto the reaping stage in your red floral dress with your hair pulled back in a bow, he felt a primal urge; a raging desire to have you.

It was an instant obsessive love at first sight.

So, if it wasn't for the Quarter Quell twist you might never have become the obsession of the man whose arms you're being comforted in.

Or maybe the gods would've found a way to stick you two together. A way for him to find you, become obsessed with you to the point that he’d kill to have you by his side in the Capitol.

Just because you and Coriolanus don't believe in the gods, fate, or mystics doesn't mean that they don't exist.

Because no matter what, it's you and him now.

You and Coriolanus, and all of your demons.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @urfavnoirette

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Five

Chapter Five: A Biting Truth

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: You and Walter talk about some things, you listen to a voicemail, and then talk a little more.

Warnings: anxiety, fluffy moments, mentioned smut, a lot of shirtlessness in this chapter, spicy late-night texting (not sexting technically)

A/N: Thank you all for being hella patient with me as I worked on my mental health. It has only been a month but I feel tons better already. I hope you enjoy this one. A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist 

The tension in your muscles wakes you up. You had quite a night but you weren’t exactly upset about it. Stretching out your arms, you reach over to find the space next to you is empty and cold.

The last time you checked, there was a sleeping werewolf in bed with you. Now, there is just a wrinkled set of bedding that only serves to get your brain working double-time.

Did he leave? Were you too much for him? Did he change his mind about needing to care for you?

You pull the covers off you and sit up only to feel light-headed. Your senses dull and return to you tenfold, the smell of coffee invading your nostrils and giving you hope. 

You tiptoe out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Splashing water on your face, brushing your teeth, and doing something quick with your hair has you feeling a bit better about the sight that first greeted you in the mirror. You tiptoe back into your bedroom and pull on some sleep shorts, an old t-shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks.

This totally looks like I just ‘woke up like this’, you think to yourself.

Making your way downstairs, you are greeted at the bottom of the stairs by a shirtless Walter holding a fresh mug of coffee in one hand. He hands you the mug and kisses your forehead.

“Bacon and eggs are almost ready. I hope you don’t mind me raiding your fridge. I was starved and I figured you would be too. And there is more coffee where that came from,” he says, smiling down at your surprised face.

You suddenly smell the bacon and your stomach grumbles, as if on cue. Walter laughs and ushers you to sit down at your dining table. He soon brings out two plates of scrambled eggs with cheese alongside bacon. Setting your plate in front of you, he takes your mug and refreshes your coffee and you enjoy the view of his ample ass as he walks away.

Once seated again, Walter opens up to you. “I’d like you to know a couple of things about me. Maybe should have told you these before we… you know. But, better late than never, right?”

You nod silently while picking up a slice of bacon and taking a bite to keep your mouth occupied.

“Right, well. I have a daughter and an ex-wife. They’re with my old pack. Faye, that’s my daughter. I miss her so much. We talk on the phone every week but I know her first shift is coming soon. I can feel it. Angie, her mother, and my ex-wife takes great care of her. I know that. But I wish I could do more. I had to leave the pack, though, because I disagreed with the Alpha. Well, less of a disagreement and more of a fight where I almost killed him. I didn’t want to kill him so instead I left. My best friend Jace, another pack member, is keeping an eye on Faye and Ang,” he peeks up at your eyes for a moment before continuing, “I just didn’t want to keep that from you. You deserve to know what you’re getting involved with.” He sits back and looks into your eyes for some kind of acceptance.

You reach over the table, putting your hand in Walter’s before speaking up. “Thank you for telling me, Wolfie. I appreciate you bringing me in on what you’re dealing with. It can’t be easy missing your daughter like that,” you reassure him, knowing that it’s your turn to open up, “I told you a bit about my ex-fiance, James Syverson, but you should probably know that I was the one who broke off our engagement.”

Walter nods for you to continue.

“Our relationship was always pretty fast. We got together while he was home for a bit from active duty. And then, we were making plans to get married. I wasn’t upset about that because I thought he was ‘my Sy’, ya know? But then, everything came crashing down right before he was deployed again. He wanted to get me pregnant so badly. I wasn’t ready to be all alone with this little life inside of me that wouldn’t know their father until he came home.” 

Bad manners be damned, you pick up another slice of bacon and chew while you speak, “We just couldn’t see eye to eye on that and in the end, I gave him back his ring and told him that I didn’t want to be an Army wife and have our kids be without a father for the most part. I broke up with him just before he deployed and I still feel awful about it. But, I mean, he did expect me to fall in line and I’m just not a soldier. I had my own plans for how things were supposed to go and it was much slower than what he had in mind. That being said, it’s kind of funny that I met a werewolf less than a year later and after one night, he may have gotten me pregnant. Not exactly in my plans, but for some reason, I’m not afraid to see what happens. And that is new for me so all I ask for is a little patience.”

You sit back in your chair, looking down at your plate, half-eaten and surely cold by now. You feel overwhelmed after talking about Sy, you still feel like shit for not giving him what he wanted. For so long, you thought he was your everything. You wanted to make him happy, but you chose your own happiness in the end. And that had been the hardest decision that you had ever made.

You are still in your head when you register Walter kneeling at the side of your chair and turning you face him before he speaks to you. “Tell me what you need.”

You look down at him and smile, his bright eyes are focused on you and his hands are soothing at your waist. You reach your hands to his face, cradling his bearded jaw before leaning forward and kissing him sweetly. You lean your forehead against his and sigh.

“I just need you, Wolfie.”

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere, Pup.” He pulls you from your chair and into his lap so you wrap your arms and legs around him. Holding you tight to his chest, he shifts to sit cross-legged. You enjoy caressing his back while he sighs and kisses your neck. You can’t stop the mewl that escapes your lips at his tender touch.

You pull back and look into each other’s eyes, smiling and wondering if the other is thinking the same thing. 

Walter looks at his watch, looking back up to you with hopeful eyes. “I have about an hour before I need to get home and changed for work. How long do you have?”

“I don’t have to be in til 1. We’ve got time,” you offer, tangling a hand in his unruly curls.

Walter stands, holding onto you like a koala bear as he walks to and up the stairs. Getting to your bedroom, he sits down and lays back so you straddle his hips. As you lean up, taking off your shirt, his hands settle on your hips. You can feel how aroused you are for him as he guides your hips to glide over his clothed, yet hardening length.

And that is when your phone decides to ring.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Are you serious?” You both speak at the same time and can’t help but laugh.

You reach over to your nightstand for your phone, picking it up to see Olivia’s smiling face greeting you. You answer it and sit back in Walter’s lap.

“Hey, Liv. What’s up?” You put a finger to your lips and Walter nods so you slowly grind your hips into his. Watching his brows furrow as you give him just enough friction to enjoy himself.

“Hey, girl. I was just checking up on you. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking it day by day, you know?” You place a hand on Walter’s abs and glide your fingers through his chest hair. Apparently, he is ticklish and he chuckles despite trying to be quiet.

“Girl...is that your mystery man? Tell him I said hey.”

“Olivia says hey, Walter,” you announce, to which he replies: “Hi, Liv.”

“Well, I won’t keep you. You enjoy yourself, girl. Lord knows you needed it. If he has any cute friends, keep me posted. Talk to you later. Bye, Walter!” 

“Bye,” You hang up, tossing your phone back on the nightstand before leaning forward to kiss the grin off of Walter’s face, “Now, where were we?”

He grips your hips and turns you both so he is on top. “I think we were right about here,” he coos, sitting back on his heels and pulling your shorts off, your socks following after. Keeping his jeans on, he slides them just slightly down his thighs.

He takes his time with you, listening to your body telling him what you need. He licks and nips at your neck. Grabbing at your legs, he pushes them back so he can go deeper. He holds on tight to his own orgasm until you have had two of your own. The only sounds in the room are his groans, your moans, and your shared breathing.

Once finished, you lay in bed cuddling until Walter checks his watch again and grumbles to himself. You watch as he gets out of bed and pulls his jeans back up. Grabbing a robe, you follow him down to your living room as he gathers the rest of his clothing.

He puts on his coat and turns to you, unsurprised that you are still watching him. He makes you promise to call him tonight after work. Leaning down, he pecks your lips and retreats a bit before you pull him back in for a steamier kiss. He smiles into it and you smile back.

You see him out and giggle again as you see that he actually did park on your lawn last night. He grimaces and ducks his head but you just scratch behind his ear and he is all smiles again. You watch until he is out of eyesight and then close the door so you can get ready for work.

Work is grueling for the first few hours. Well, one might say grueling, another might say it makes time go by faster. All you know is that you could use a break. Even though you quit smoking, you did miss the built-in ‘breaks’ that habit came with.

Once you sit in your car, you feel the stress of the last four hours ease off your shoulders. Though it lurks outside your car window, ready to jump back in place when you exit.

You scroll through your phone, replying to various emails and checking in with Liv. A notification pops up as a reminder to check your voicemail. Right, Sy had called and left you a message a day ago but you hadn’t opened it yet.

You navigate to the Phone icon, then to voicemail to see Sy’s unread alert. Pressing on the voicemail, you raise the phone to your ear and the message starts.

“Hey, Bug, it’s Sy...but of course, you knew that already. Caller ID, amirite? Anyway, uh, just wanted...wanted to say it was good seeing you today. Yer looking...good. Healthy. Jesus, I swear you’d think I was leaving a damn voicemail for the Queen or something. You remember you used to call me smooth, right? Not anymore, damnit. I just wanted to check in with you, ‘cause I went and got into a scuffle with a wolf out there in the woods. I’m fine, don’t you worry none. He got a couple nips in. But I got him right in the gut. The big bastard should be feeling that for the next few days at least. Hopefully, soon, we can put this wolf business behind us all. That’s all I had to say, I’m getting tired and you’re probably already in bed as it is. This damn message is getting too long, I think. Talk soon, bye now.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and pressed the button to repeat the voicemail. Yeah, you heard that correctly. Turns out Sy is the one who shot Walter.

And just to make this even a bit more complicated, Walter may have gone and given Sy a bite. A bite that may or may not turn him into a werewolf.

You sit in the driver’s seat and debate just driving home for the day, but you pull up your big girl panties and force yourself to finish your shift. You clocked out and changed before anyone knew what hit them, all but running back to your car to make it home. 

Your thoughts run from Sy to Walter and back again so many times, who do you call first? Your ex, who may be struggling through turning right now, OR your boyfriend who doesn’t yet know anything is wrong. Right.

Turning on your car, you let the heat warm up the vehicle while you turn back to your phone. Hitting Sy’s contact, your phone starts to dial him. Three rings and you were just about on the verge of driving out to his house when he picked up.

“Hmph...’lo?” Sy’s sleepy voice sounds downright melodious.

“Oh, my God. Sy, are you ok? I am so sorry I didn’t get your message until now and I had to make sure you were o–“

Sy cuts you off in his confusion. “Bug, it’s...after midnight. You just leaving work?”

“Yeeeeeah, shit. I am so sorry. I just had to make sure you were ok. Getting into fights with wolves and all that, ya know?” The heat permeating your face was enough to make you wish the Earth swallowed you up.

“Wouldn’t say I got into a fight with him. More like, he whooped my ass and I had to shoot him,” he snorts, clearing his throat before speaking again, “Go ‘head and drive home. We can talk while you drive. So you know I’m safe, and I know you’re safe.”

“Yeah, got it,” you pushed the Bluetooth button to take over the call so you could drive and talk at the same time.

The short drive from work to home was just long enough for Sy to reassure you that he was feeling just fine. You made him send you a picture of his bite after you got off the phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he would send a fully shirtless pic of him in bed, barely zooming in on the wound on his hip. He looks really good.

The wound looks really good, you shut down whatever your brain decided to get stuck on and ask him for another closer pic. 

At least this time, you can only see half of his six-pack and much less of his happy trail. Thank God for small favors. You can see bruising around the bite, but it looks like it barely broke the skin. What does this mean for a werewolf bite? Who knows. But at least, he—the bite looks good.

You text him to keep you posted if he starts to feel feverish or anything, you can remember from movies and television that werewolves tend to feel feverish when they are changing. Is that accurate? Again, who knows?

But, you know who would know?

You respond with a wink face when Sy thanks you for checking up on him. He responds with his signature kissing heart wink face and you refuse to put any more thought into that shirtless man tonight. You shake your head and exit the messaging app to make a call.

One ring and he picks up, “Hey, Pup. You make it home ok? Just thought you were gonna call a bit ago.”

“Hi, Wolfie. Yeah, I made it home ok, baby. I just had quite a night and had to check in on a friend. I…had to check in on James. Seems you two have met. Uh, there’s no easy way to say this, baby–”

“Slow down, just start from the beginning.” Walter’s calm voice cuts you off and you just blurt everything out.

“You may have turned my ex into a werewolf. You bit him, and he shot you. So, can we freak out now or did you have a better time in mind?” You close your eyes, not sure what you were expecting him to say.

“Now is good, I think.”

Ok, I guess you could have predicted that.

To be continued...

A/N: Very sorry that this took about a month to get out, but my mental health was declining and I had to work on a few things.

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[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (20)

20. The march ahead

MASTERLIST

Summary: Cregan marches south, but something keeps you in Winterfell 

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, talk about killing, war and all that comes with it, SMUT, breast milk involved, kind of body worship, teasing, talk about pregnancy, period blood (unrelated to the smut), might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Notes:I will pick up the pace a bit from here

Sara did not had premonitions, but she had nightmares every night

She dreamt of a sea of fire, and clouds of ash, she dreamt of a red sky and a howling wolf, that wasn't Cregan, nor you, she only hear it howling, and it sounded like he was mourning 

She woke up sweating and panting every morning, worried, concerned, with a bitter taste in her mouth and unshed tears in her eyes

You in turn, were besieged by worries and concerns. The snow had melted, an army was gathering, and you knew it was a matter of days until Cregan marched south to help Rhaenyra’s claim

You caressed your husband’s dark locks as he opened his beautiful eyes and looks at you

“Good morning my love”, he greeted, leaning in and kissing your lips swiftly 

After you recuperated, he had wasted no time in taking you whenever he could, not that you’d complain, you loved it, you loved him

When you separated, he looked deep into your eyes

“I bet you are with child again”, he whispered, a smile creeping on his lips

“Cregan…”, you warned, but a smile of your own was forming in your face, “is the timing right?”, you asked, and his face turned serious

“I need you to stay here in Winterfell”, he whispered then, and anger took a hold on you

“That is why you have been taking me so often?”, you asked, indignant, “so you’ll trap me with a baby? so I won’t go to war?”, you asked then, and Cregan sighed

“No”

“Don’t lie Cregan”, you whined, and he grunted, admitting defeat

“That is not the only reason but yes, I can’t have you go into battle with me”

“I have a dragon!”, you said, sitting on the bed, “I can burn enemies and cities to the ground and you will have me stay here?”, you asked, angry

“There is danger in war!”, he said again, “besides, we don’t know if the war will turn nasty, if it will even come to that”

“Of course it will!”, you said

“Rhaenyra won’t have us burning anything”, he admitted then, “she will not be the Queen of ashes!”

”Her son was killed!”, you said then, “armies will fight each other but dragons will fight other dragons”

“More reason for you not to go”, he said then, and you whined, “Dragons can fly from one point of the continent to the next one, if they come here you will be here to stop them”, he said then

And you were conflicted

“I don’t want you marching alone, when dragons fly the skies”, you said then, “it is dangerous, specially with that maniac”

“the Vale is for Queen Rhaenyra”, he said then, “danger will come when we reach the Riverlands and only then”, he was certain, convinced, “and that will be a month for now” 

“Cregan”, you called, as a plea

“I will be with the more seasoned captain of the North”

“Old men”, you complain

“Wise, strong men, Northerners”., he said then

Winter had been tough, Winterfell and Winter’s Town had fared well, but only because of months of preparations, other towns and castles didn’t, people were hungry and tired, and when Cregan called his banners to war, only some answered

And the Winter wolves gathered

An army of old, seasoned men, who seeked a glorious death in battle, they said it was their time, to defend their young and their people from bloodshed, and protect the North. They were old, wild, fearless, experienced, and with a desire for death.

They were probably the best army to be formed in Westeros.

“I will keep you safe”, he said then, seating by your side and taking your hands in his

“Maybe I can keep you safe”, you tried, and he looked back at you with pity in his eyes

“Yes, you will be staying here”, he said certainly, “making me another child, protecting the North, keeping them warm, all the lords know you are here, they know their lady is keeping Winterfell safe”, how could you refuse his eyes? those beautiful eyes?, “for the Northerners it is important”, he continued, “there must always be a Stark in Winterfell”

“I’m not a Stark”, you said then

“But the beautiful son you gave me is”, he said, “he needs his mother, and the North needs their Lady”

“Promise me that you will call for me”, you demanded, and he looked into your eyes, “if you face something difficult, promise you will send a raven, for me to come to you”, you demanded again, he sighed, but relented

“I promise my love”, he said then 

You started your day, Cregan got dressed and left the room to keep preparing his army, and you prepared yourself and your son, RIckon

He opened his huge eyes and the purple in them settled even more, he looked at everyone and everything now with wonder, and he had grown much, chubbier and healthier, sometimes you looked at him and you couldn’t believe he was here in your arms.

The constant noise coming from the courtyard set your nerves on edge, and you cradled your baby to keep calm, but it wasn’t working

You didn't want to admit it to Cregan, but it was true, your bloodmoon didn’t even returned after you gave birth and you were starting to feel nauseous, but that might be the nerves for the coming war, and not that you were expecting… Your breasts were still very sensible, but because you were still feeding Rickon…

It was too soon

And you didn’t want to admit that Cregan might have trapped you here, to “protect you”

You understood that he was afraid of you in the battlefield, but you would be with Vhaelar, what can anyone do to her? one of the biggest dragons? she had grown much since you had bonded with her. 

And then you trembled when you thought of Vhagar

She was the biggest dragon in the world, and Aemond was heartless, a monster, who just used her to destroy Arrax and Lucerys… babies in comparison, he was going to use her to turn armies to dust and burn cities to the ground. You had no doubt about it.

You could only pray, the the old gods and the new that she was not going to face Cregan and his army

Cregan, at the same time, was meeting with Roderick Dustin, the brave man who had gathered the Winter Wolves, and was going to lead them into battle

“You should stay here, Lord”, he said firmly

“What kind of leader would I be if I do not lead my army into battle?”, he said, bitterly

“When we formed the Winter Wolves, we said it was to protect the young men and women, that included you as well”, he said. The man looked like a bear, Cregan thought, big, tall, broad, dressed in dark brown furs, his hair white but plentiful, just as his beard and mustache.

“I will lead the army”, he said

“Think of the lady of Winterfell, and your son, Lord, he had yet to see his first name day”

“The future of my house is secure”, he said, “the Lady and my son will stay here with the dragon, and we will march, I believe she is with child again”

“Much more reason to…”, but Cregan looked at him with severity, but he didn’t stop, “There is no shame if you stay Lord, we will give our lives for our Queen, but you don’t have to…”

“I will lead the army to Harrenhal”, Cregan said, “as we march South we will meet with the forces of Torrhen’s Square and the Cerwyn’s”, he continued, “I will see that the army is assembled, and then we will see, more forces are leaving White Harbor as we speak”, to the old man, this battle was lost, “I will always remember this, Lord Roderick, your family will be secured and protected”

“Thank you Lord”, he said

“Are we ready to march?”

“Tomorrow at first light”, he assured, and Cregan nodded

The want and need to stay was great, but he couldn’t. He needed to lead his men, he needed to avenge the usurpation of the crown, just as they usurped him of Winterfell, this could not go unpunished, he was sworn to Rhaenyra, and he needed… he had to avenge you, protect you of the greens, he could not send someone else to fight for his beliefs and his honor.

If the Gods willed him to die… he would have done so happily, having met you, had married you, and given you a child, maybe two, knowing he was doing his best to protect you from harm. You were secured, here in the North, nobody could touch you here 

Sara came into your room when you were finishing feeding Rickon, he was asleep in your arms.

“Sleep evaded you again?”, you asked her, and she nodded, she sat by your side and leaned into you, you cuddled with her, “Nightmares again?”, she only nodded, “I’m sure everything will be fine”

“I dreamed of you before you arrived, I knew you were coming, I dreamt about Rickon… and he came to be as well”

“What did you dream about this time?”, you asked

“War and death”

“Cregan?”, you asked, and she shook her head

“I’m not sure”

“What can we do?”, you asked then

“Nothing”, she whispered, “only care for the North in the absence of the men”, And you sighed loudly, “if that is what is needed”

“Did you saw me?”, you asked, “on the battlefield?”

“I did not”, she said back

“What if I take Vhaelar, and…?”

“I haven’t seen it”, she continued, but as you looked down at your sleeping son, you knew you couldn’t leave here, you couldn’t leave him alone, even if he was with Sara.

You saw Cregan again at night, when he returned to your chambers, he had forbidden you from participating in the preparations for the march, and even know when you could hear the courtyard had turned into some sort of festivity, you could hear men celebrating, cheering, drinking, even a bard had started playing.

“Men are celebrating before we march”, he muttered, and you smile softly

“Don’t you want to join them?”, you asked, but as you asked him, he smiled and the door to your chambers was opened, and a group of servants entered, two of them bringing a huge copper tub, which they left in the middle of the room, and the others brought buckets filled with almost boiling water. 

They set up the bath and then they left, as Cregan lit candles all over the room, and one of the maids took Rickon and left, giggling as the pups followed her and your baby. And you were alone with your husband

“I want to spend my last night here with my beautiful wife”, he said, turning to you, you raised from where you were seating and ,et him in the middle, right by the bath

“Please come back to me”, you whispered

“Always”, he leaned down and took your lips in his, his hand cradled your face as his other took your waist to keep you even close, your hands went to play with his wild hair

But his hands and himself grew hungry, he undid the lace at your back, keeping your dress in place, and you let it fall down your arms, and in a second you were naked in front of him. And then you undressed him slowly, deliciously, enjoying every second of it.

He help you to get in the tub, and then he entered the warm water and placed himself behind you, you in between his legs and you felt his manhood in your ass

You moaned, enjoying the warm water and him behind you, he surrounded you with his arms and you leaned, until your back was all laid against his chest 

He kissed your shoulder

“My beautiful silver haired princess”, he purred

“My handsome winter lord”, you answered

“I will come back for you”, he said softly, “I promise you”

“I know you will”, you said back, “I really believe it”

“Good”, he dropped wet, open mouth kisses from your shoulder and up your neck, you shook between him, moaning wantonly, his hand did not stand idle and he cupped your full breasts 

“Cregan”, you moaned, he pinched your swollen nipples between his index fingers and thumbs, and make you twist and turn on his hold, a little milk dripped and you whined, embarrassed, you leaned forwards wanting to shield from him but he didn’t release you

“What are you doing, woman?”, he asked, amused, “I am in the middle of something”

“Cregan”, you whined

“Come back”, he whispered in your ear, and you let yourself fall back onto him, he continued massaging your breasts, “you are such a good mother”, he whispered, and you moaned, “you are such a good wife, and Lady Stark”, he purred 

“Cregan”, you were a wanting mess, the only thing you could do was saying his name, one of his hands left your breast to go down your body and tease your clit, you whimpered in need, you had been so horny this past days

“My sweet Lady”, he whispered, two of his fingers entered you so easily… you spread your legs until for him to enter you deeper, “my sweet wife”, he kissed your ear, and the side of your face

You cummed on his fingers when his thumb grazed your clit , and you came undone with his touch

“You are so receptive”, he admire, chuckling darkly

“My Lord HUsband”, you begged

“Tell me my love, what do you need?”, he teased

“You”

“You already have me”, he mocked

“I need you inside me”

“My fingers are inside you”

“Cregan”, you whined

“What do you need? you needy little lady?”

“Your cock”, you relented, and he chuckled, he placed both his hands on your hips to raise you, and accommodated you over his hard cock, you grabbed him under the water and you placed him in your entrance as he lowered you into him.

You moaned and your hips buckled when he was deep inside you, the water overflowed the tub and landed on the stone floor, making you both chuckle finding amusement in the middle of your pleasure

“When i come back, I hope we can welcome another member to our little family”, he said in your ear

“I hope so too”, you whispered

It was a great final night before you departed, Cregan took you in the bath, and then when you recuperated he help you dry and dress on your night dress, and then he went to fetch Rickon, he brought it back to you, and then he cuddled his son on his chest and you by his side, and you slept like that, together

“I will come back to you”, he promised sweetly in your ear, “I will come back for our son, I promise, by the Old Gods”

“And if you don’t… I will go find you on dragonback”, you warned, and he chuckled darkly, “I promise you that”

“I know you will”

You barely slept, and you barely let Cregan move if you were not touching him, he find it endearing, you grabbing his arm all morning while he talked to the men and prepared for the long journey ahead

Sara just followed you both around with Rickon in her arms, she was going to miss her brother too, as her concern grew every night when nightmares visited her chambers and wouldn’t leave, but she knew she couldn’t do anything, destiny could not be changed

But as promised, the army was ready, the horses were saddled, the carts were prepared, and Cregan had to march

“As soon as you reach Castle Cerwyn you will send a raven”, you told him, “and another in Moat Cailin, and then another when you take Harrenhal…”, he shushed you, cradling your face in his hands and quiet you with a kiss

“I will, I promise”, he said firmly, and then he turned to his son and Sara, Cregan took Rickon in his arms, your baby smiled at his father, and looked at him with those big magical eyes of him, he was so beautiful. 

To the small group in the entrance of Winterfell, joined Lord Roderick Dustin, who had traveled from Barrowtown just to command the army right from Winterfell

“I will keep him safe, my lady”, said Lord Roderik, bowing to you, “and I will make sure he returns back to you, this i swear”

“You are most kind and loyal My Lord, my husband is lucky to have you by his side”, you said with a smile, he could see the sadness in your eyes, so he just nodded firmly

“I beg of you to protect the North in our absence”, he said gently

“With my life”, you answered, “and with fire and blood”, he seemed pleased, and almost proud as he smiled at you

“Protect Winterfell, please don’t burn it to the ground”, said Cregan, and you knew him enough to realize he dropped silly jokes to prevent you from seeing how sad and worried he was, so you just played along

“I can make no promises regarding fire”, you said with a silly smile, “but you can rest assured the people will be protected”, he laughed shortly, and then he engulfed you in a warm tight hug

When you separated, he looked into your eyes, and then his hand landed briefly in your belly

“I will return within the year”, he promised to you and to Sara

“I know you will”, Sara said, and that made you feel relieved, you three shared a significant hug, holding Rickon amongst you, and then Cregan departed from you. You took your son in your arms and Sara hugged your side as you saw Cregan saddle his horse. 

He looked so tall and commanding atop his stallion, all the men around the courtyard stopped whatever they were doing to look at him

“Today, we march South”, he started, “We march for our Queen but make no mistake!” he shouted, “we will fight for the glory of our country! we will show these Southerners, we don’t take kindly to usurpers and drunks!”, people cheered for his words, “we do not take kindly to accept the rule of Aegon the usurper!”

“Queen Rhaenyra!”, they shouted,

“We march for our Queen, we march for the glory of the North! we march to save our families from the tyranny of the hIghtowers!”

“Yeah!”, they shouted back, and your eyes filled with tears and your chest filled with pride

“For the North!”, he shouted

“For the North!”, they responded

“For our Queen!”, he said then, and the people repeated it, “and for the Ladies of Winterfell!”, he said then, looking at you both

“FOR OUR LADIES!”, the Winter Wolves chanted then. 

After the energetic speech, the Winter Wolves, atop their shaggy horses who had yet to shed the Winter fur, started to leave the safety of Winterfell’s walls, and soon with a last yearning look, Cregan followed them, leaving the grounds of the castle. 

You waved your husband goodbye, and you stood in the doors of Winterfell until you couldn’t see him anymore, and you whimpered when you couldn’t, feeling like your heart has left with him

“Please come back to me”, you whispered to the wind. And as you were turning to get back to the castle, you felt something…

You passed Rickon to Sara quickly, and you ran back to your quarters, fearing the worst, and you lowered your undergarments, only to find…

“No no no please!”, you cried, eyes filled with tears when you realized your blood moon was upon you, it meant that Cregan’s seed did not take root, and he had left for war. 

And suddenly, you felt like the promises you made to each other were not going to be so easy to keep.

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[keouil]

inside me, a family

“and for god’s sake,” kuroo yells in the direction of the entrance. “can someone please get tsukki off flyer distribution! he’s scaring more people off than inviting them!” 3k. karasuno/nekoma. fluff. also on ao3.

“Nekokara.”

“What are you,” Suga grimaces. “A fujoshi? Why does it matter which team name comes first in the banner?”

Kuroo’s stubborn expression doesn’t budge an inch, nor does his posture. “Nekokara.”

“Karaneko,” Daichi suddenly pipes up, surprising everyone in the room. Noya and Tanaka have somehow strategically slithered their way at each of his side, very much looking like his personal bodyguards as they set to agreeing very loudly and verbally all the while massaging their captain’s shoulders. Go, Daichi-san! Defend our honor!

“Oh god,” Suga breathes out, palming his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re in on this too?”

Daichi just smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. It doesn’t escape Suga’s notice that doing so just forces his muscles to protrude from his already annoyingly jacked chest, making even Kuroo stand up straighter. 

"Karaneko,” Daichi repeats, pitching his voice lower and more demandingly. 

Kuroo’s eyes slant to a glare, nostrils flaring slightly. Tora has somehow also miraculously materialized by his side, clamping a hand on his shoulder as he—just like Noya and Tanaka—begins his own verbal back-up of his captain.

“Neko—”

“Good Lord this will never end,” Yaku suddenly cuts in, stepping in between both teams and glaring long and hard at each captain until some of their confidence withers just so. Daichi defers almost immediately, while Kuroo pathetically lasts about five pitiful seconds. “Karaneko, Nekokara, whatever. It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t we get started on more important things like how we’re actually going to pull off a damn bake sale?”

Kuroo opens his mouth to counterargue, but is, once again, pathetically silenced by Yaku immediately sending a seething look his way. It’s purely out of self-preservation that he shrinks into himself and zips his mouth altogether.

Yaku uses the temporary shift in power dynamics to pass around scraps of paper, aided by Asahi and Kai who also just want to get it over with. 

“How the hell did we even get stuck with each other?” Tanaka whines, peering over the activity pamphlet for the coming week. “We’re not even from Tokyo. Coming here isn't cheap, you know.”

“Don’t you guys normally do this with Fukurodani?” Daichi says, squinting down at the roles Nekoma—meaning a vengeful Kuroo—had taken upon themselves to suggest under “recommendations”. Suga boldly rejects half of them on the spot. There is absolutely no way you’re letting my precious Tsukki be a garbage boy, Kuroo, the kid can’t even clean his own glasses. 

“I’m not doing it with those private school kids again,” Tora huffs, annoyed. “Did you know they bring an actual physical therapist every time? Bokuto-san keeps complaining his arms cramp up from mixing the batter bowl every 5 minutes. And Akaashi just lets him!”

“Are you…” Suga blinks, slowly turning his head his way after giving Kuroo a scolding of a lifetime. “Did you just call us poor?”

All the color drains out of Tora’s face. Tanaka is quick to roll his sleeves up, sensing his senpai’s growing dissent, and is already making his way over to maybe pound Tora’s hairless head into the underground all the good that senseless brain does him—

“Maa, maa,” Kuroo strolls in between them just in time, after remembering he was actually Nekoma’s captain and that actually meant something and damn these crows. “The bake sale tradition raises money for both teams and boosts community morale among schools. And I just thought, well, wouldn’t it be nice for us dumpster kids to stick together?”

Daichi squints at him, disbelieving.

Kuroo surrenders. “Alright fine,” he sighs. “Coach made us draw lots. I can count in one hand all the schools Tora doesn’t have a restricting order against for picking fights with, but it’s kinda slim pickings. We’re just glad we didn’t get Itachiyama.”

"Damn,” Noya whistles his approval. “I pity whoever they end up with.”

Kai winces. “Then you’d better send your regards to Inarizaki.”

“The Hyogo powerhouse?” Asahi widens his eyes. “But doesn’t their setter and the Itachiyama ace have beef?”

Suga chokes on the water he was chugging, “Since when do you know the word beef?!” At the same time Yaku makes an ominous sign of the cross, mumbling his prayers for Kita. “May the Inari Okami be with you, Kita-san.”

“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Daichi clasps his hands together, earning a flinch from Asahi. “We don’t have time to be worried about the other schools. Anyone else notice how quiet it’s been for the past hour?”

Kuroo glances around the empty classroom, sniffing and assessing. Suga is already preparing his thinly veiled threats at whatever mayhem they were bound to discover at leaving their first years unattended. Daichi is just about to ask where the hell is everyone when a decidedly loud, horror-movie-piercing scream rumbles its way outside the hall.

A beat of silence passes.

Daichi and Kuroo exchange wary looks. “Your kid or mine?”

Kuroo just about has his mouth open to reply, when Suga stomps his way past everyone in a decisive manner, cracking his knuckles as he comes face to face with the door.

“I don’t care whose kid it is,” Suga warns, giving them a look over his shoulder. “They’re dead.”

-

“A little to the right.”

…

“I said right, Tanaka-san,” Kuroo snaps, baring his teeth. “Or we could always have Yaku spot you instead if you prefer?”

Tanaka stiffens as he holds unto the welcome banner, trying not to move too much unless he disrupts the structural integrity of the ladder he was precariously balanced on. Kenma was somewhere at the bottom and, he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he saw him whipping out his PSP instead of holding the ladder steady like he was instructed. Tanaka's life is literally on the line and no one cares.

“Oi Rapunzel,” Kuroo barks, again, impatient. “Are we boring you?”

These goddamn cats, Tanaka thinks. Leave it to Kuroo to let Kenma off the hook again.

“N-no, Kuroo-san,” Tanaka mumbles shakily, moving the banner inch by painstaking inch until he feels Kuroo’s glare at his back dwindle into something like mild approval. 

“Kenma,” he calls out suddenly, his tone softening. “Come here and check?”

Oh great yeah okay, Tanaka muses as he seethes with the wall, With Kenma it’s a question mark and gentle tone. With everyone else he’s an unrelenting dictator. 

He feels movement below him as Kenma lets go of the single (!!!) hand he was gripping the ladder with rather precariously, that Tanaka has to plant his palms for purchase with the wall just not to topple over completely. 

“What the hell—?” Tanaka turns, spotting Kenma’s mismatched head of hair, ready to swear down a number of profanities that’d make his own sister proud.

That is until he meets eyes with Kuroo and his single raised eyebrow. Almost protective, almost a challenge, almost a threat.

These goddamn cats.

-

“And for God’s sake,” Kuroo yells in the direction of the entrance. “Can someone please get Tsukki off flyer distribution! He’s scaring more people off than inviting them!”

Suga makes a face. Kuroo, native Tokyoite and just generally less introverted than everyone else, has since taken complete dictatorship of the planning committee for this supposed joint bake sale. He’s barked orders, threatened his own members, made Asahi cry once, got into multiple fights with Yaku, and repeatedly made clear to Bokuto that he absolutely cannot come and help because he will not come and help and Do you want all of our cupcakes gone before opening day? Cause Bokuto will 100% eat them all. Think of the children, Suga-san. 

Suga is convinced he’s a little loose on the head and could potentially be a little unhinged, but they were country bumpkins who didn’t know the first thing about holding an organized event in Japan’s capital, and so lets him be for the most part.

Daichi, however, has always rebelled where Kuroo is concerned. 

“Sorry,” Daichi says, straightening his back after carrying a box of measuring cups in. “But did I just hear you order around my first year?”

“There is no my and yours here anymore, Daichi-san,” Kuroo bats his eyes at him sweetly, smiling. “We’re a team now, remember?”

Daichi arches a brow, unconvinced and unyielding. “My first year, my demands.”

“Who trained him to be the middle blocker he is today?” Kuroo raises his chin.

Daichi is immune to 6-footer-intimidation-tactics. “Pretty sure his brother.”

That shuts Kuroo up straight away. Daichi’s shit eating grin that follows isn’t missed by anyone in the gym, and if possible, even a few members of Nekoma howl in pleasure. 

“If we’re staking claim on just anyone now because this bake sale is apparently a lawless land,” Suga suggests pointedly from behind the counter, assembling an array of pastry brushes. “I veto Lev out of marketing.”

“What the hell has he ever done to you?!” Yaku shrieks by his side, halting his own arrangement of rolling pins. Kuroo is quick to follow up with, “The kid has the emotional comprehension of a five year old. He can’t even hurt a cat. We’ve seen it ourselves.”

By the water coolers, Tora begins nodding so vigorously Tanaka has to grab his head in fear of whiplash. Even Kai, setting up chairs and tables with Asahi and Noya, looks the slightest bit defensive. 

“I have nothing against him,” Suga is quick to ammend. “But if he doesn’t stop offering 50% discounts, he’ll bleed us dry soon before we’ve even started.”

Kuroo gasps, affronted. "Lev did no such thing!"

Suga is just about to reply when they hear footsteps outside the door, making out a symphony of girlish laughs along with a decidedly male voice that sounded just like Lev accompanying them, singsongly promising: And that’s not all! First 30 customers also get a free picture with our captain! He's over 200cm, you know!

Kuroo’s shoulders slump. He blinks once, twice.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

-

"Kageyama, take off your shirt."

"Absolutely not," Daichi wheezes, stepping forward in front of Kageyama at the same time Suga seizes hold of the hem of his shirt, pinning it in place. "What the fuck, Kuroo."

Kuroo groans, pinching the bridge of his noise. "Look," he says, pointing at them. "The way I see it, someone needs to start showing some skin around here or we're going to lose."

Suga gives him an incredulous look, inching closer to Kageyama protectively, who still looked like a fish out of water munching on a test batch cookie Ennoshita and Narita asked him to try. "And you thought the minor was the way to go?"

"He's Oikawa's protege, isn't he?" Kuroo points out, matter-of-factly.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Daichi gestures wildly, exasperated.

Kuroo blinks. "Oh," he says. "You guys don't know."

Suga feels uneasy. "Know what."

Kuroo leans in, conspiratorially, like he's about to drop top-secret national-level information. "A classmate from econ class told me another bake sale was happening in the next building over. Another Miyagi and Tokyo collaboration."

"And?" Daichi furrows his brows. "There's hundreds of volleyball teams in Sendai."

Kuroo hushes him, not kindly. "Yeah, but no offense, up until a few months ago there really was only 2 schools other prefectures gave a fuck about." 

Suga's expression is a mix of confusion and annoyance. "You couldn't possibly mean—"

"Oh, but I very well do," Kuroo grins, a sliver of teeth peeking through at the corners. "Favorites Seijoh and Shiratorizawa are apparently causing quite the ruckus and have already made their goal twice over. Ask me how."

Now it was Daichi's time to groan.

Kuroo snaps at him again, impatient. "Just do it, Sawamura! Am I asking for the world!"

Daichi grits his teeth, before letting out a very painful, very slow and labored, "How."

Kuroo's grin turns absolutely maniacal as he looks Kageyama up and down. "They're holding an auction to date Oikawa or Ushijima for a day."

"Shut up," Suga gushes at him, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "They are not."

"Are too!" Kuroo squeals, growing more excited. "And didn't you hear me? They've met their goal. Twice. At this point they've probably funded at least another generation of those annoying preppy school athletes."

"It's not a competition," Daichi reminds him.

"Says the loser," Kuroo quips back.

Daichi holds his arms up in surrender, exasperated. "We are literally on the same team. Literally. You just said so like, five minutes ago. What I make, you make."

"Exactly," Kuroo zeroes in on him, sliding a hand over his shoulder and peering closer at him, eyes dilated and full of corporate greed. "And I want to secure a future for my kouhai," he continues, saying the next part in a deceptively enticing voice, "And you want that too, don't you?"

Suga feels his insides churn. "Daichi," he starts. "Wait. Don't—"

In the next second, Daichi's posture straightens into that of unyielding determination. The fine set of his shoulders and the arch of his jaw, so stubbornly straight and piercing. Suga blanches. Kageyama stiffens. They both recognize that look, know Daichi has gone to a point of no return and no amount of pleading will get through to him anymore. Suga is starting to seriously come to terms with the fact he might seriously have to end the day a cat murderer. 

Daichi turns to Kuroo. "What do you need us to do?"

Oh God, Suga thinks, Kageyama is going to need so much therapy after this.

-

“Mom and Dad are fighting.”

"What the fuck,” Tsukishima says at the same time Kageyama snaps his head in Hinata’s direction to tell him, “No, they’re not.”

Hinata’s scowl deepens, a prickle at the back of his neck telling him to go against anything Kageyama believes in out of sheer principle. “Yes, they are.”

“No,” Kageyama stomps over to him, completely ignoring the baking pans Daichi asked him to clean. He makes sure to stand up straighter and lord that extra head of height over him. “They are not. Shut up.”

"Are too," Hinata taunts. "I heard them saying your name over and over again, too! Suga-san said something about putting his foot down. You did something, didn't you?"

Kageyama's eyes flicker briefly down at his shirt, before rising to glare at Hinata again. "Shut up! Did not!

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

Tsukishima can’t believe what he’s seeing nor hearing. “You guys,” he tries to keep his voice level. “You guys seriously don’t call Daichi-san and Suga-san… Mom and Dad… right?” he laughs, an airy thing. “Right?”

They can’t even hear him, good lord. They’re in another one of those intensely and homoerotically charged eye contact competitions that not even Daichi can penetrate no matter how hard he tries. He gives it another few minutes before one of them—inevitably Hinata who has to strain his head just to even keep going—blinks because he needs to and cries out unjust treatment of the marginalized. 

Stop trying to make short people oppression a thing, Yamaguchi snaps at him when he's caught in the crossfire. It’s never going to be a thing.

Kageyama always walks away smirking in satisfaction, maybe even a little amusement. 

Tsukishima is sick of their back and forth and feels himself one more unwilling third wheel event before he locks them in a room and forces them to play 7 Minutes in Heaven or no volleyball forever again. And yes, he does mean forever: Daichi will simply have to find another setter and decoy.

“You guys are so fucking weird,” he mumbles instead, walking away to grab another stack of fliers to distribute around the block. Before he leaves he thinks he can hear Kuroo calling out for him, but when has Tsukki ever listened to his seniors? 

-

The first half hour into the bake sale, they are a well-oiled machine. 

Asahi, man of few words but will get triggered by potentially anything and everything, is highly encouraged—in Kuroo's words, with an underbite that absolutely threatened more than encouraged—to have the least amount of human interaction. Hence his current one-sided conversation with the wall as he diligently tied ribbons into cupcake boxes. Noya and Yaku, on the completely other end of the spectrum, the fastest of both teams and able to weasel their way into everything undetected much like subway rats: into the makeshift tables they go, cleaning up every drop of icing that so much as threatens to fall, and gone by the next second like wind. 

The merry band of freshmen six footers—Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Lev, Inuoka—are designated waiters. If they're good for anything, which they are not, then let them be at least good looking coat hangers. 

Hinata and Suga man the cashiers, Kenma making a digital receipt of every order as they go so they can track their progress easily. Kuroo and Daichi are the welcome committee, ushering customers into seats and able to spontaneously go into a passionate elevator pitch about the highs and lows of highschool volleyball on the spot that has all the mothers ordering at least another box of cupcakes to take home.   

The rest of the team are slotted into respective roles that they attack with the same kind of devotion as they do in volleyball. Passionate, earnest, and all relishing in the integrity of a job well done. Karasuno and Nekoma, really and truly, at their core; work surprisingly well together. Maybe the best out of most teams in Miyagi and Tokyo.

And so all goes well for the first thirty minutes since the doors to the gym open and business is so far good. All goes well and everyone gets along and no cupcake is burnt and no first year is wreaking havoc unprompted.

All that is, until, well:

"Oh my god," one of the customers gush, pointing to Kageyama. "Isn't that Kageyama Tobio? Oikawa-san's kouhai?"

Kageyama stiffens, almost drops a plate full of piping hot egg tarts straight into Kai's lap. "I-I—"

Suga already clocked the customer from a mile away and was already heading over their way.

But Kuroo, longer limbs, gets there faster.

"Why, yes," he grins at them, pleased, beckoning Kageyama over. "That is, in fact, Kageyama Tobio in the flesh. Genius setter in the up and up."

Daichi squeezes the bottle of water he was holding onto, making murder eyes at Kuroo from across the room. Kuroo meets it with a glint of his own that could only say: Since you're not willing to pimp your freshmen out, let me. 

The girls gush at the confirmation. More people notice. Some of them take out their phones and start rapidly typing.

"Oh my gosh!" one of them shout. "I knew it! I recognized him from Oikawa-san's fan page!"

"Right, right?" her friend nods along enthusiastically. 

“Say,” one of them stands up, bravely coming just an inch closer into Kageyama’s space, peering up at him expectantly. “Are you guys also offering the boyfriend rental service?”

Kageyama looks like he’s being led to his own funeral. Kuroo only looks to be too happy to play judge, jury, and executioner. 

Until someone coughs to catch their attention. 

"Sorry," Hinata says, without a hint of remorse at all. "But he already has a boyfriend."

The room is blanketed in silence.

“What the fuck,” is all Kageyama is able to say, beet red in the face as realization sets in. 

“Thank fuck,” is all Tsukishima is only too happy to say, shoulders sagging in timely relief. “Now will you two just bone already?”

-

"All this could have been prevented," Daichi says amusedly as they put away chairs and tables. "If you had just sold yourself first instead of sacrificing my freshmen."

Kuroo glances his way apologetically. "I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am. If I’d known Kageyama and Hinata were—”

“Please,” Daichi raises a hand, stopping him. “Even Kageyama didn’t know. I bet he still doesn’t. They’re both oblivious fools, just Hinata less so.”

“Still,” Kuroo insists.

“Still,” Daichi agrees.

Then they both break off with a good-natured laugh, shaking their heads in amusement at the whirlwind of a day. Kuroo is just about to stack another chair when he says, “You know maybe I should have agreed to Lev’s suggestion earlier. The picture thing. But—ah.”

"But what?" Daichi gestures for him to keep going.

The tips of Kuroo's ears turn a shade of pink, and he can't quite meet his eyes. Outstanding conversationalist and top salesman in the making, Kuroo. This douses Daichi into full attention faster than a block of ice.

"Oh my god," Daichi snaps up straight, abandoning the chair. "What. What did you do."

"It's not me!" Kuroo has his hands out in surrender. "I just—" he starts, tries, fails. Daichi is itching to get his phone out to document this for future blackmail purposes. "...I just… have someone who'll be, um, n-not…—happy, I guess. If I look available."

Pretentious use of words, curses Daichi internally. But thank God he actually had comprehension skills.

"Dude," Daichi says, now just annoyed at Kuroo tiptoeing around him. Like he felt the need to. "So you're with someone too. Why not just say that in the first place?"

Kuroo shrugs, unsure. "We're still taking it slow?"

Daichi considers him for a moment, considering all he's observed today. "Weird," he notes. "That's not what Kenma looked like to me."

Kuroo's head snaps in his direction. "What the fuck," he says, breathless. "You knew?!"

"My brother in Christ," Daichi comes up to pat his shoulder, wincing a little. "We all knew from the beginning, you absolute baffoon of a pining idiot. If it makes you feel any better, Kenma is only slighter better at you than hiding it. You two make all of us sick."

Kuroo is barely processing his words, blinking rapidly at Daichi's slightly amused but mostly fond expression as he registers the genuineness that bleeds through. But alas, God didn't make Kuroo this fine of a specimen without sprinkling in some sinful traits every once in a while. Cats live nine lives, after all, he was good as immune.

"Oh yeah?" Kuroo combats, standing up straighter to look Daichi dead in the eye. "Like you and Sugawara are any better."

It takes less than a second for all of Daichi's face to heat up. And Kuroo, able to rise to his full height and forcibly hold Daichi's simmering head a good arm's length away from him, looks on at the rest of Karasuno and Nekoma walking and laughing and chatting idly about the gym as they pack up, the sun just shy of setting and Kenma smiling at him slightly from across the room: decides then that yeah, this life isn't so bad after all.

[hansolmates]

[teaser] fly to my room

banner made by @eerieedits

summary; with a super huge crush on the super student jeon jungkook, you can't help but feel inferior with your subpar abilities when he's the literal hercules on campus. however, with a potential group of super villain students on the loose, you might have to tamp down your feelings to save your school pairing; superhero!jungkook x superhero support!reader (f) genre/warnings; sky high!au, university!au, mha!au, self deprecation lol, hero elitism, sidekicks can get bullied :(, strong man!jk, jk is a lil cocky and flirty, one lil sexy thing BUT that's it >:D w/c; preview is 561 a/n; no words just AAAAA

“Hey, watch out!” 

A metal discus is being blown through the wind, the cause being Jungkook who’s training on the hero’s side of the stadium. You can only stare wide-eyed, focusing on Jungkook’s arms, still poised mid-air from the throw. The discus is shiny and looks like it’s barely moving from the amount of speed Jungkook has curved onto it, but you close your eyes and push your hands out towards the hurling force. 

Bing! 

You feel the heavy hunk pass through your void, a wink in time that has you feeling dizzy as you try to refocus the exit portal. The speed is what gets you, and has you immediately sweating from your forehead as you force the object to rip back into the current dimension, the discus landing right at Jungkook’s feet. 

“That—was great!” Namjoon teleports right in your face, mouth huge with praise. He is grabbing your shoulders, shaking you frantically in his excitement. “Wow, did you see how fast that thing was going? Maybe it was a fight or flight response—obviously, Jungkook would’ve cut your neck open—” 

“Great visual, Namjoon—” 

“But you teleported it! Aren’t you proud?” 

There’s no time to be proud when Jungkook is bounding across the field to meet you in the sidekick section. It causes all the other Superhero Supports to stop a fraction in their training, wondering how this conversation will go. Namjoon continues to stick by you however, knowing how absolutely abysmal you are in the presence of the famed hero. Having talked to Jungkook once or twice in class, Namjoon begrudgingly understands what’s so charming about the guy. 

You’re too focused on the gilded appearance Jungkook brings to the stadium. His blond hair gleams in the sun, and the lightweight metal that protects his arms wraps around his muscles like liquid gold. He’s absolutely blinding. 

“We meet again,” Jungkook grins, “are you okay?” 

“I-I’m sorry?” you fight the urge to wince when Namjoon pinches your waist. 

“You’re a teleporter, right? Your reaction time was insane!” Jungkook is smiling at you, prattling off your stats with a fervor you fail to understand. “Maybe they can bump you up to Hero-Class next exam, I’m sure you’re not far from the cutoff.” 

“No, actually. I’m just trying to stay afloat,” you force a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair, “thanks though.” 

“I’ll put in a good word to Professor Luna,” Jungkook winks, turning away to return to his training session. 

“Jungkook’s right,” Namjoon squeezes your body again, trying to keep you in this dimension. “Your reaction time was insane. Can you imagine the power you’ll have when you finally gain control? Let’s go to the shooting range right now, test it out!” 

“Oh my god, he talked to me,” you whisper to yourself, replaying the conversation over and over in your head. Namjoon is but a spirit in your vision. 

“I mean, he had to. Like I said, he almost decapitated you,” he waves a hand in front of your face, “c’mon, stop thinking about Jungkook!”

“You're asking for the impossible, Joonie,” you frown, picking up your backpack. 

You take one step at a time, still feeling numb from the interaction. Namjoon insists that you should ride off this high, and train a little more. The only high you’re focusing on is the beating of your heart, and Jungkook’s gleaming grin. 

[baestruly]

❝she’s so beautiful, and i tell her everyday.❞ bruno mars

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 )  jj maybank x insecure!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - talks of insecurity and self doubt if thats a triggering topic for some

authors note - quick head canon

✩  would constantly reassure you that you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, even though you consistently say he only says that to be nice.

✩ he gets mad because of this because he wishes you could see yourself through his eyes. 

✩ would literally make a whole ass list one night if he was late home or something, and leave it on your bed saying all the things he loves about you.

✩ yeah i believe jj’s second love language is words of affirmation.

✩ lots of kisses.

✩ he would kiss all of your insecurities, as if his lips can make it all better and you appreciate him so much for it.

✩ by now, he knows when you’re over thinking because you always fidget with your fingers and pick at the skin around your thumbs when feeling anxious.

✩ whenever that happens he holds your hand. 

✩ literally can sense how overwhelmed you are, and he feels it even more because he hates how you feel like that. 

✩ once again, lots of reassuring and kisses.

✩ ❝what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby. tell me everything, let it out, i’m here.❞

✩ oh, and if he catches people making fun of you or your insecurities, he will fight.

✩ ❝jj! just calm down!❞

✩ ❝can’t believe them━━looking at you as if you aren’t the sexiest goddess ever, i’m gonna fuckin’ make them blind so they’ll never look at my pretty girl again, they don’t deserve to admire this.❞

✩ you think it’s so stupid, but you laugh it off with him. 

�� he’s very touchy, as if you’re fragile. he just wants to make sure you know how much you’re worth.

✩ every time you look in the mirror and he sees you groan in frustration as you pick at the clothes on your body or tears form in your eyes on bad days, he comes up and wraps his arms around you from behind and reminds you how beautiful you are.

✩ he will do this literally right when you wake up.

✩ like, you could be waking up sweetly and suddenly, jj’s already in your face to tell you how beautiful you are and how much he loves and appreciates you.

✩ ❝morning, pretty girl.❞

✩ ❝you look so beautiful when you sleep, baby.❞

✩ more kisses.

✩ sometimes there are days when you feel good about yourself, and on those days jj does nothing but hype you up. he’s super encouraging.

✩ but he can also tell when you start to feel insecure again if your mood changes, and he will keep reminding you that you’re amazing and complement little things to hype you up like if he notices you’re wearing new brackets, necklaces, or trying a new hairstyle. 

✩ would definitely be the best photographer. 

✩ well━━maybe not.

✩ ❝oh my god, you look stunning, princess.❞

✩ ❝a dream━━❞

✩ ❝jj! are you even taking the goddamn photo!?❞

✩ ❝oh shit!❞

✩ and when he does, he’s too busy admiring you that the photos are terrible. they’re all blurry and uncentered.

✩ but he still agrees to keep them, unless you beg to delete them ofc🫶🫶

✩ if he’s taking photos on the polaroid camera, he’s totally making a banner of them when you get home.

a/n: remember, every single one of you is beautiful. looking a certain way to be pretty is bullshit, we wouldn’t all look different if that was true. we are all pretty in our own ways and when you’re feeling down, remember there’s someone in the world who would kill to look like you, or have one of your insecurities that you hate that others think are beautiful.

embrace yourself for who you are bae<3 bc you’re hot asf

also request anything! 

masterlist              jj masterlist

[philistiniphagottini]

Hello hello!! Newbie follower Anon is here again with a request for Domestic Bliss (if that's still going on)

Can I request 🎮 playing a video game together with a Female Reader and Ryuji from Persona 5 please?

Hi newbie Anon, thanks for dropping by and participating in the event! I haven't written for Ryuji before and this was a fun little piece to write. Hope you enjoy.

cw. fluff, female reader

Domestic Bliss

There was only one thing you wanted to do on such a rainy, miserable day such as this. And that was to become a couch potato in your favourite bean bag whilst you played video games with your boyfriend. You and Ryuji must have been at it for at least an hour now, swapping between characters in a fighting game and duking it out in head to head combat. So far, you were both evenly matched and neither of you was keeping track of the score anymore. As you were scrolling through the selection screen of characters, Ryuji decided to speak up, tapping your thigh with his foot to gain your attention.

“Hey, how about next round we make a bet?” Ryuji offered. 

He immediately piqued your interest as your curious eyes flickered in his direction, head cocked to the side. 

“Yeah, what do you wanna bet?” you replied. 

A smile stretched his lips as he leaned closer to you, almost falling directly into your lap as his shoulder bumped into yours. You could hear the rain pelting against the windows as the wind howled, but the noise was barely audible over the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears at Ryuji’s close proximity. 

“How about if I win, you give me a kiss.”

You looked thoughtful for a moment as you pondered. You purse your lips together as you rolled the idea around your head. You hummed softly as you started to nod, a playful smile tilting your lips as you responded. 

“Okay. But if I win, then you have to give me a kiss.”

A warm chuckle breezed past Ryuji’s lips as his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Deal!”

He eagerly fell back into position on the bean bag and started scrolling through the list of characters, immediately picking his favourite as you got ready for a match. You took a bit longer to decide, eyes scanning the TV screen as the light it reflected danced over your screen. 

“Come on” Ryuji goaded. “We don’t got all day. What, scared you’ll lose?”

You playful rolled your eyes as a grunt rumbled in the back of your throat. “Yeah right. I am so winning this bet.”

You picked your character and the match immediately began. The room was filled with the sounds of your characters throwing punches and violent button mashing as you both tried to gain the upper hand. You threw a punch. Ryuji threw a kick. You used a special beam attack. Ryuji grappled you and threw you to the ground. Slowly but surely your health bars started to whittle down and neither of you could help it as you started to shout and exclaim with boisterous laughter. 

“I’m winning!” Ryuji exclaimed with a gentle tease. 

“The match ain’t over yet!”

You leaned forward in your bean bag, the beans stuffed into the bag crunching under your movements as you sat on the edge. Your tongue poked between the seam of your lips, completely focused as your fingers moved faster than your head could keep up. You moved on pure instinct and you knew you could just edge out a victory by the skin of your teeth. You screamed in triumph when the victory banner appeared on your side of the screen, throwing your arms up as you almost, accidentally, threw the controller to the other side of the room in excitement. 

“Aww damn!” Ryuji sighed with defeat. 

His body sank further into his bean bag, sagging as he dropped his controller in his lap. You giggled as you happily crawled your way over to Ryuji, gently nudging his knee as you draped yourself over his legs. 

“I win” you chimed. “Now where’s my kiss?~”

Ryuji smiled as he leaned forward, trying to contain the shiver of excitement that raced along the curve of his spine. You leaned up as Ryuji planted a soft but firm kiss on your lips, the contact brief before you broke apart and savoured the taste of him lingering on the shape of your mouth. Ryuji’s cheeks were warm as he sat back and he awkwardly cleared his throat, hands fumbling as he reached for his controller once more. 

“One more round?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

You hummed as you nodded your head eagerly. “Of course. I don’t plan to lose though~”

“I’ll make you eat those words” Ryuji promised. “Then, I’ll get that kiss for sure!”

A soft snort blew past your lips as you readied yourself for another round. Not such a bad way to spend a rainy day, you mused to yourself. 

[aceswritingcorner]

Yandere Beginnings

Marc Spector hadn’t expected to see anyone during certain hours of the night. Let alone someone who seemingly walked through the night with ease. Coming back from missions given by Khonsu was never easy- nor was going to them and getting the crap beaten out of you but that’s what was signed up for. Yet- seeing the way you walked against the cracked cement sidewalk to just sit by the fountain that housed coins from lost wishes. 

No. No- He shouldn’t be thinking of stuff like that. 

He still had Layla- there was someone to go back to even if he was afraid of what the god would eventually do. But the way the pale light basked against your eyes, making them shine in such mystifying ways. No. He had someone… 

Steven Grant wasn’t paying much attention when he first heard. 'I’m just saying, there’re supposed to be nine gods on the banner instead of seven-‘ You were right. The banners were wrong but he had never expected to hear it from someone else. 

The bright smile you had offered him before buying the Tawaret plushie had nearly made his heart pause- he could swear his life on it. Maybe there was some way he could see you again… 

Marc had been the one to see you again. Of course, it had to be him. Nothing tended to get past the Avatar of Khonshu much these days. 

'Give me the body.'  "What? No. In case you hadn’t noticed Marcy-Marc, we are on a bus where people can see.“ The words muttered under his breath as he sent a small look to his reflection. 'Just give me the dang body.' "Not a bloody chance in hell. Today’s my day-" 

Words trailing off the tip of his tongue as his eyes gazed at the newest person on the bus. It was his favorite museum-goer. 

'Steven don’t you even fucking think about it!-' Oh ho ho this was definitely going to be a talk for later. 

Jake Lockley had never bothered to get involved in the petty fights and bickering between the other two. There was better things to do than argue over whatever those two pendejos did.  Especially when things were life and death and he wasn’t about to let the god that loomed over their shoulder choose. 

One of the targets got away from his range, the imbécil had to get killed. Not unless he felt like having the damned bird get angry again. 

The scene he had ran into was never something he expected to see. Bloodied knuckles and clothes, chest heaving from the unwarranted fight, you were definitely something interesting. 

"Bueno, jódeme. Eres divertido.” (Well fuck me. You are amusing.)

———-

Khonshu never held himself to the thought of holding an interest to someone. He was the fist of vengeance for crying out loud! He brought justice to those that did wrong with his Avatar! Not some silly little worm that feuded over mundane things that could easily be fixed or ignored. 

The idiots had been fighting non-stop over who got to see whatever it was this time. 

'PAY ATTENTION!' 

He had appeared in the small loft apartment, having to crouch to fit properly. Staff tilted to avoid the slanted ceiling. 

'THERE IS MUCH WORSE TO FOCUS ON THAN SOME MORTAL. I DO NOT WISH TO CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WORMS ARE TRYING TO ARGUE ABOUT.’

“They know about you-” Marc spoke up, looking at the god as he sighed at the other two trying to switch in. 

“Indeed they do and it is quite amazing as to how much information they know of Egyptian history,” Steven interjected promptly before Marc took control back. 

“As I was saying. They know about you and apparently-" 

"Can see you. Paloma.” Jake switched in, cracking the knuckles in his hand boredly. “The two pendejos finally figured it out and now they’re fighting about it.”

“THEY CAN DO WHAT? THAT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE." Wind picked up, loose papers flying through the apartment. 

No one but their chosen avatar should be capable of seeing him. This shouldn’t be possible. No worm could see him. This had to be the work of something else- 

He had to keep his attention on this worm then. 

[asco-bisco]

School Bus Graveyard Stereotypical Personality(?) AU

so i posted this on ao3 and im gonna delete the chapter with all this info but i still wanted to get this out js incase anyone is interested

Ashlyn Banner: The Introverted High School Girl

- I'm just getting a lot of Tall Girl vibes but I never watched the movie

- Still has the same personality but I might write a bunch of cringy ahh y/n stuff

- She still likes dogs just because

- She absolutely despises EVERYONE on a more alarming level (she hates Tyler)

- She pesters Taylor about wearing makeup

- She listens to Prom Dress by mxmtoon (at least she's supposed to give off the vibe)

- Still does ballet

- I don’t know how to run her under a stereotype without making her a ‘quirky’ girl or a pick me girl

Aiden Clark: Your Pyscotic Mosquito

- He has no concept of personal space (as usual)

- He needs to give off the annoying stalker vibe or creepy vibe, not the one everyone simps for

- Kinda stalks people (he knows where everyone in his group lives)

- He pulls pranks on people he doesn't like (He does the whoopie cushion prank on Tyler)

- I guess 10x crazier and maybe not as caring--if the roof thing with Ashlyn happened again, he'd probably call others to help instead or would end up inside the house before it even happened

- I don't know anymore

Ben Clark: Quiet Unpopular Kid

- He doesn't care about your well-being (idk)

- He's still the medic of the team though, if that makes sense

- His trauma is still there but his anger issues just exist, they don't get triggered from bullying though they just exist ig

- Maybe that's why he's unpopular

- I don't know if he should still live with Aiden or not

- I wanna make him mean idk y but he prob won't be

- He doesn't get as flustered as he does in the webtoon, like y'know those moments where he's just cute asf (maybe that's just me) but those moments don't exist anymore

Logan Fields: Nerdy Astronomy-Loving Boy

- He still has W shooting skills

- He's way shyer though like he full-on goes "U-Uhm, I-I-I-I-I t-th-thi-think we-w-we-we s-should g-g-go n-n-n-n-n-n-n-now"

- the stuttering is not that much tho (i would DIE writing that)

- Tyler and Aiden pick on him a lot (not together though, in their own time)

- Aiden purposely gets Logan to do things he doesn't want to do like face a phantom or go patrolling just to see him squirm and cry

- Whether or not he becomes the sassy S2 Logan we know is a secret (and to be decided)

- He sticks around Taylor a lot because Tyler and Aiden are basically bullies and Ashlyn and Ben are too scary to be around (they're both quiet people who give you death stares)

Taylor Hernández: Nice Popular Girl

- She loves everyone and teases her brother a lot

- She still has trauma (joking about it is how she copes)

- She is kind to EVERYONE but if you share lip gloss/mascara with her, you're keeping it forever (she doesn't want your germs)

- She’s blunt and doesn’t think before she speaks

- so passive aggressive it’s not okay

- The only person she doesn’t love is Barron and his friends

Tyler Hernández: Rude Popular Jock

- He hates everyone that aren’t his friends

- His ego is so high it’s not okay

- He loves Tay and Tay only

- He kind of makes sure everyone is in check unconsciously because he likes to nag others

- He picks on Logan and Ashlyn for their height (he leans on them)

- Mention his dad and he just might shoot you

- Doesn’t like physical bullying but if you give him a chance to insult you, he will do it

- He might end up fighting Ben if he ticks him off, that’s to be decided tho

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - four

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: cursing, violence, weapons

word count: 3k

A/N: Bucky gets darker the next few parts so I’m warning y’all now and no one gets surprised. I’ll add a ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️warning in the parings as well as the warnings.

three | series masterlist

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

John is sewing up Victoria’s hand as she grimaces and swallows the entire bottle of Vodka in one gulp. Niklaus, on the other hand, is frantically pacing the room, wearing ruts into the floor. John tries to get him to stop or slow down even but he refuses. 

“We’re fucked, absolutely fucked,” he mummers under his breath. 

Victoria practically growls as John pulls at the stitches to tie them off before snapping at her brother, “Of course we are. We let that bastard take Y/N.”

John looks to Niklaus nervously and then back to Victoria. 

“Oh my god, what did you two idiots do?” “Nothing, we did nothing,” Niklaus snaps back at her. 

“No, you did something. Tell me or I’ll throw you both through the window.”

John spills almost instantly, “Klaus made a deal with him last year.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she shrieks. 

Niklaus rushes over to her and quickly puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, “Shut up for the love of god. I’ll tell you if you promise to not say anything. Brock is literally down the hall.”

She nods and he starts in with the tale of how he might have royally fucked up. 

About a year and half ago, Brock caught him and another man together and beat Niklaus to a pulp. He had been laid up in the hospital for weeks and needed routine visits afterward from the injuries he sustained. In addition to being beaten within an inch of his life, Brock had threatened to kill them if he ever caught them again. That had been the final nail in the coffin for Niklaus; after years of enduring the torture that his father put him and his siblings through, he made the decision to get rid of him once and for all.

The most natural choice was the White Wolf.

He was feared across the East Coast and was gaining power rapidly. He threatened Brock’s authority in New York and it made him nervous, sketchy, and scared. Niklaus arranged a meeting with Steve, his community liaison, and set the plan in motion however it all crumbled when Brock caught wind of a rat amongst his ranks. He had Niklaus and John execute too many innocent men and he even made a move on the White Wolf’s men. He’d murdered Tony Stark, one of the White Wolf’s close friends and advisors, setting forth a domino effect of violence. He retailed as one would and with Y/N being dragged back in, it complicated things. Niklaus tried to uncomplicate it and remove her from the equation with the planned ambush at the party but he never expected that she would willingly take the deal. Hoping that she was still the stubborn teen she had been, he’d hoped that the White Wolf would have to take her against her will and keep her locked away until it was all over with. 

“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met,” Victoria says with an equal amount of shock and annoyance, “Why didn’t tell me before? I could’ve helped you plan something better.”

“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt if it all went south. I figured I could take the brunt of it while John got you to safety.”

Victoria scoffs, “So a suicide mission?”

“No.”

“Yes! You know him better than anyone. He will tear you apart limb by limb, sew you back up and do it again until he gets bored. And even then he’ll find a new way to entertain himself.”

John makes a disgruntled noise at all of her moving and says, “But if Brock’s dead, it’s all worth it.”

“No it isn’t John! You’ve been friends since birth practically and you’re seriously suggesting that him being dead is for the best? Klaus,” she pleads with her brother, “we have to find another way. Call him and find another way. Please, I can’t lose you.”

“There’s no other way. Either the White Wolf kills Brock before he can get to me or I try my hand at it and our father kills me.”

Her eyebrows furrow in pain and sadness as John finishes her hand. The moment he’s done she leaps up and wraps her arms around her brother.

Niklaus grips her back tightly ad if he’s afraid she’ll disappear into thin air and buries his face in her hair.

“You better hope Y/N figured out a better plan.”

He nods against her head.

“I love you, Klaus.”

“I love you too.”

Brock loves to incite fear in everyone around him whether that be with his voice or a violence. He craves to make all those in the same room as him fear for their lives if they so much as breathed wrong and that is especially true with his children. He lives to see the terror that lives in their eyes when they see him or how their bodies go rigid when he walks past them. He wants to see them shutter when he walks too close to them. He wants them to hold their breath until he leaves. He wants them and everyone else to walk on eggshells when he is around. He wants them to fear him in every sense of the word. 

Victoria’s small sniffles piss him off to no degree and he backhands her hard enough that she falls to the ground. Niklaus, ever the loyal son, only flinches at the sound of the impact and does nothing to help his sister. He knows that if he even so much as moved a muscle, he would be next. 

“Can someone please explain to me how the fuck you let that bastard take Y/N?” he growls at them as he rubs the bridge of his nose. 

Victoria climbs to her feet and with hit tears pooling in her eyes, she matches his anger, sneering back at him, “He knew we were going to be there. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“You had Y/N. You had every advantage I could’ve given you but somehow you two still fucked it up and killed her in the process.”

Niklaus risks his head and speaks, “She’s not dead. He took her hostage.”

Brock marches up to his son and grips his face in one bone crushing hand as he says, “That’s even worse. He can use her to get to me.”

“Y/N won’t give you up no matter how much she hates you. She wouldn’t risk Victoria and I getting hurt,” Niklaus scoffs and jerks his head away. 

In a flash, Brock whips out a pistol and pushes against his forehead, “You’re useless, you know that? I’ve done nothing but provide for you and give you everything you could ever want. Still you fuck up and prove to me that you’re only ever going to be a thorn in my side. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in you and Victoria.”

Victoria makes a startled gasp and lunges at her brother in efforts to push the gun away but John grabs her and holds one of his own to her temple. She whispers insults under her breath and curses him for being “a fucking traitor and a bastard.” Niklaus looks at her for guidance because he’s a loss for words. There’s nothing he could say that wouldn’t get someone hurt. She shakes her head as much as she can, urging him to not say anything. The one piece of information he can give their father to save them would end with Y/N’s head on a platter but it’s all he has to offer.

“Nik please,” she whispers with even more tears in her eyes. 

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Nik you always have a choice. Don’t do this please. Él la matará.”

He will kill her.

“Don’t speak that shit in my house,” Brock growls at her, “Try again and this time peak English.”

She pleads with her brother again in Spanish, earning another growl but with the gun against both of their heads, he has to do something. Giving away himself would ruin any chance at catching Brock off guard in the future so he goes the only thing he can.

Niklaus tears his eyes away and locks eyes with his father as he utters Y/N’s death sentence, “She made a deal with him; in exchange for our lives, she helps him kill you.”

“Is that so?” Brock asks, cocking his head in amusement before turning to look at Victoria, “I think I might have to send a message to that brat if that’s the case.” One shot. 

And a body drops. 

Steve chooses to grab Y/N by her hair this time, keeping his hand wrapped in her braid so that he has complete control of her. The White Wolf gives him a disapproving look but doesn’t say anything as they walk into a looming and dark house. Matching the exterior, the house is black and sleek with no hint of personality anywhere to be found. It looks very much like a house that a mob boss would buy to launder his money and she assumes that this is the case. 

“Stop gawking,” Steve tells her with a harsh tug of her hair and she hisses at the pain. The White Wolf looks back and motions for Steve to bring her forward. 

Taking her arm in his like a pretend gentleman, he explains that until Brock is dead, she will be staying with him. She’s not to leave and if she does, she needs to have explicit permission from him and a security detail will go with her. Steve smirks when her eyes flicker over to him, indicating that he will be the spearhead of that detail. The White Wolf saying her name brings her attention back to him and continues to explain that the house is hers, she has free reign as long as she stays within its walls. He stops them at a door at the end of a hallway, “This is my office…”

She interrupts him, “And it’s off limits. I know the drill.”

He smiles, looking her up and down while he wets his lips, “Smart girl.”

A part of her shutters in disgust but another…. 

“How much time do you need?”

“What?” she questions, searching his face for any hint of explanation. 

“It’s been six years since you left home so I’m assuming you need some time to figure out a plan. How much time do you need?” 

“You make it seem like I left on good terms,” she mumbles, shrinking under his intense gaze. 

He chuckles, “Sorry, RAN AWAY.”

She sighs and looks around her, “He’s living in one of his old properties so I already know how to get in and out. It really depends on how quickly you can get me what I need.”

“And that is?”

“How do you want it done?” He takes a moment to think about it as he pushes open his office door and leads her inside. Steve closes the door, locking just the two of them inside. The White Wolf pours both of them a glass of whiskey and hands one to her before taking a seat on a massive leather couch. However with him and his overwhelming presence on it, it looks child sized. He motions for her to sit in a chair across from him and she hestiants but he insists. 

“That’s up to you, little snake. You want him to suffer, right?” he asks as he takes a sip, wincing at the blissful feeling of the burn. 

“Don’t turn this on me,” she pauses, realizing that she only knows him by his alias,  “I don’t know your name.”

“My name?” “That’s what I just said.”

He narrows his eyes at her before giving her the answer she seeks, “James.”

“Don’t turn this on me, JAMES. It’s not about what I want, this is about your little fight with him,” she snarks at him, “The only reason why I’m involved is because of opportunity. You saw a chance to get back at him for whatever reason and preyed on me because of my past with him.”

James reclines in his seat, allowing himself to enjoy her anger and admire her in the process. 

“Did he tell you what this is all about?”

“No but I don’t exactly care either. All men have an ego the size of the sun and turn to violence when it gets bruised.”

He chokes on his drink at her appraisal but agrees nonetheless, “Fair enough. So what do you need?”

“I’ll need a Beretta M9A4 with a silencer, an M4, and a set of knives.”

“Strange list, anything else?”

“A getaway car and a driver.”

“I’ll have Sam do it.”

“Hm,” she stops him after taking a sip of her drink, “No, I don’t trust him.”

“I really don’t think trust should be something you’re worrying about right now.”

Y/N slips her heels off and draws her legs onto the chair with her, getting as comfortable as she can to level a bored look at him. James takes in her form as she’s curled into herself and he wets his lips with his tongue. 

“Who do you want then?” 

“Steve.”

A beat passes. 

“Or you.”

He questions her with a smirk as he slides through down into the leather couch. He’s lounging at this point, completely ignoring the fact they’re discussing murder. 

“Me?”

“I don’t trust any of your men and most certainly not you but you wouldn’t do anything to put me in harm’s way if you’re involved.”

His phone rings and he picks it up, eyes never leaving hers, “Hello?”

She can’t make out what the other person is saying but she can tell they’re frantic. James lets out an annoyed sigh and closes his eyes as his head hits the back of the couch, mumbling along as the person on the other side rambles on and on. His attention being off of her gives her the opportunity to really look at him. 

Eyes taking over him, Y/N takes in the way his midnight blue suit compliments his eyes and how his white shirt underneath is unbuttoned in an absurdly attractive manner. Just under his suit jacket is a hint of leather, a holster she assumes given what little she knows of him.  

“He’s not going to do anything and even if he did, I have people close by.”

The sheer dismissive tone brings her back to his face where she locks eyes with him. He must have lifted his head when she wasn’t looking and was most certainly watching her checking him out. She finishes the rest of her drink and sets the empty glass on the coffee table between them. 

“Încetează. Seriously calm down and use your brain, Klaus. He’s not going to do anything stupid. If he did, he would ruin any chance of survival he has. ”

She gives him a questioning look and he winks at her instead of explaining.

When he hangs up, she immediately jumps into her line of questions to which he explains that her brother has been working with him for some time now. 

“Klaus? As in my brother Niklaus? He’s helping you?”

“He came to me last year and asked if I would help him with… some business.”

“Why did you make a deal with me if you already had one with my brother?”

“It never hurts to have multiple options.”

She groans in frustration and rubs at her temples. Of course she would’ve been suckered into some farce of a deal by a shady businessman. The temptation to throw something at him becomes too strong and she hurls one of her heels at him. It misses and clatters to the ground behind him to which he chuckles at and gets to his feet. His shoes scuffle the floor as he pours himself another glass. Rather than sitting back in his original place, James rounds the coffee table and sits in front of her on it. 

“Brock would see it coming if I had Klaus do it regardless of how good your brother thinks he is. You, on the other hand,” he starts, pointing at her, “are the perfect option. He still has hope that you’ll find it in your heart to love daddy again so you still have a chance to gain his trust hence why I brought you here. Taking you away from him builds the tension, makes him sweat, makes him vulnerable and reckless. It puts him in the perfect position for me to release you back to him and boom my Rumlow problem is gone.”

“You still haven’t told me what he did.”

James leans forward so he’s invading her space, “It didn’t seem important a minute ago.”

Y/N matches him and leans forward too, “Well it is now. What did he do?”

“He killed a very good friend of mine.”

“You have friends?” She laughs at him and before she can stop him, he grips her braid again and pulls her off the chair and onto the ground before him. 

He yanks her towards him and whispers in her ear, “Learn when to stop, little snake. It’s unbecoming of you.” 

She glares him with all the hatred she feels for men like him but it flatters when his eyes flicker from hers to her lips parted due to the pain in her scalp.

"You look good on your knees for me," he lets spill out before releasing her.

She knows that he meant for it to come out but nonetheless she throws herself back as far as she can to get away from him. James, the flirty and seemingly harmless man is gone and in his place the White Wolf reemerges. He smirks at her desperate attempt to put space between them and winks at her again, this time making her body revolt at the gesture. Standing, he leaves the room without another word to her. 

Whatever safety and trust she hoped to gain tonight is gone the moment he closes that door. 

She’s alone. 

Completely and utterly alone.

[avionvadion]

I just had a thought occur to me: How is Malleus is going to handle the Senate of the Valley of Thorns? We know how they feel about scandal. And Eleanora, a weak, frail, magicless human as being who Malleus picked for his Queen, is probably going to be a huge scandal to them, worse than Lilia. I mean, at least she and Lilia can wear Valley of Thorns’ Royal Scandal club shirts together and I feel Lilia would put his retirement on break while he and Silver and maybe Sebek help her through anyone being snide or nasty to her in Malleus’s court.

Do they want the Draconia line to continue??? Because it’s been stated dragons can only be born through true love. Straight up, Malleus is NOT gonna be taking any bull from them- not after what they did to Lilia, and especially not towards El. Because if they keep it up, he will continue to live in isolation and who would he fall in love with then???

He’d probably remind them of what happened with Maleficent, and how she never fell in love again after what they did to Ellis. How she withered away and was killed by a human prince. If not for Maleficia and Meleanor, the Draconia line would have ended with her.

A dragon’s love is a dangerous one, and Malleus has already been burned one too many times to allow such nonsense to continue.

Silver is always on El’s side, alsjsksklsks. He’s pretty much her go-to when she needs help whenever Lilia isn’t available. Silver probably sends Lilia a postcard with a letter talking about how Malleus is fighting the Senate for El and freaking books a plane and flies over, like, “YOU CAN INSULT ME BUT DON’T YOU INSULT MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW!!! Also, El, dear, here; a souvenir. It’s a paper dragon!”

El: “It looks ridiculous. I LOVE IT!” 🥰

Lilia: “Malleus, son, here’s another flag.” 😉

Mal: “I can add this to my collection! Also I missed you.” 🥺

Sebek is prepping the war banners at Malleus’ orders, lol. The Senate may be a bunch of ghosts but so help him Malleus WILL find a way to be rid of them if they keep persisting.

And absolutely Lilia and El end up with matching shirts after all of this. He probably sewed them together himself- so they’re absolute asymmetrical atrocities with various patterns that don’t match but the duo wear them anyways.

[kangmoon27]

Saleslady [S€LL YOUR BODY] | JUNGKOOK FF ONESHOT

Pairing: Possessive Jungkook x Saleslady Y/n

Summary: At that night you're only meant to please his father but turn out you end up pleasuring him instead

Saleslady. That's your job, a saleslady. You're Infront of the story in the middle of the night holding a banner just like the other girls besides you. Your the best seller here.

Best seller you mean by the item that you sell? No definitely not. You don't sell clothes, shoes or other stuff like that, you're there holding a banner saying I'm for sale.

You're selling your body. For one night, or two you didn't care as long as they buy the nights they will spend with you that's it.

The night just begin for the saleslady like you. Some are already picked up while you. They can't just pick you up without show money.

You're the best seller for months. Rich people are fighting over you. They're literally killing each other on who will sold you tonight.

But as your value grows the more money you're earning, and the more money you're earning the more dangerous your job is getting.

Why?Because not only ordinary people, politicians, businesses are fighting to have you tonight but also those people who's working under the tables.

That's right the mafias.And as a mafia you won't be shocked after seeing one man killed Infront of you as the man got on you first before they did, before the mafia did."Yn" someone shouted you name, you look at her.

It's your mother, who's also the one who made you a saleslady. And you aren't happy about it but you couldn't do anything as she always says you own her a lot.

And keeps telling you that you should be thankful that he didn't aborted you after you ruined her career as a saleslady.

"What is it Madam?" You called her madam, of course she owns the club, she owns the agency, after getting a lot of money from selling her daughter it's impossible that she wouldn't build a business to grow her money more.

"He's here and he came to pick you up, come on fix yourself and look beautiful in front of him, he's a huge client Yn. Remember that don't fuck it up" she said as she grabbed the banner from your hand and started fixing your hair.

"Go on he's at the parking lot" she slap your butt cheek as you made your way to the parking lot. You arrived there.

It's him the amazing and very successful business man all over the Korea not only here but also to other country.

"Mr.Jeon you came back" you wave your hand at him while looking at him through the window. You smiled as he open the door.

You walked in. And sit beside him. She wrapped his arms around you. It disgusted you. You hate his touch yet you had to bare with it.

"The last time I didn't get a chance to taste you, so I'm here hoping now, now one will bother us and continue what we started" he said while kissing your neck.

You pushed him away and awkwardly laugh. He look at you in confused, you caresses his chest and licked your dried lips.

"Maybe you can take me home first and do it there." You said while biting your lips. He's surely falling.

You're at the kitchen drinking a lot of whiskey, you didn't wanna remember this night and you knew you won't even dare to touch him if you're not drown in alcohol.

If you're in your right state you would literally vomit if he would fuck you with a sense.

So right now you're trying your best to get drunk just to get a confidence to do it with that old man.

"I see, my father brought a saleslady again" tattoo man entered the kitchen leading his head to the door frame while looking at you.

Fuck! It's him, the rumors are true he's fucking hot, smoking hot!! His hand that is covered with tattoos, his piercing on his lips and eyebrows together with his six earrings on his ears.

This is crazy, your mind is going crazy. How come Mr.jeon can have a son that is looking like Lucifer's son because of his hotness.You just stared at him.

You didn't show interest in him even tho you're already die inside. You continue to drink and tried to ignore is existence.

"I need to get drunk so that I won't be remembering this horrifying night with your father" you said as you gulp on the wine glass.

You heard him laughed, you're about to look at him but shocked to see that he's already there Infront of you. Face are only inch away from you. You begin mesmerizing his face.

He caress your cheek and you felt your heart rate going crazy not you felt your pussy getting wet.You stared at him.

He smirk and pulled you by your neck kissing you passionately. You grabbed him and deepen the kiss. You didn't wanna let go.

Gosh those lips is literally taste like heaven while his hotness feels like hell.

"Why would you force yourself to an old fucking asshøle man like him when you can do it with me inside."he said as he broke the kiss.

"Seems like something happened that made you hate him that much." You said while slowly but sexily wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Simple, he ruined my life, he ruined my family because of a saleslady like you. And I hate them. You're one of them" he said.

You can sense the hated towards you, the atmosphere become more hot. Weird but you're turned on by his angriness.

It made you wanna be fucked with his so hard on this counter right now while you will beg for him to either stop or don't stop but it would definitely don't stop.

"So you hate me too?" You said and he nodded

"Yes, I fucking hate you, girls like you ruined relationship, girl like you ruined perfect family just like what you did to mine" he replied.

"But why do you have to be this attempting to me" he said as he pulled you closer to him again he connected his lips on your.

None of you opened your mouth, you just let your lips and his touched each other.

He pulled you closer, putting his knees in between your thighs as you begin to grind on it. He picked you up from the ground and made you sit on the counter, you both broke the kiss and tried catching you breath, you look at each other and found ways to connect your lips against each other again.

He started stripping you off while not breaking the kiss, unclipping your bra and started massaging it while you're moaning in-between the kiss.

His hand caresses your thighs and your inner thighs as he pulled your panty aside then entered his fingers inside you. Fucking you hand with his fingers, you groan in pleasure.

Pulling your head back as the pleasure begin to rise when he suddenly started sucking your boobs.

You can hear your wetness making sound everytime he's moving his fingers in and out of your pussy while his thumb is rubbing your clit. Too much pleasure, fuck how can he drain your energy by just fucking you using his fingers and mouth.

You grabbed his hair hard pulling him closer to you chest. He bite you lips that made you scream at the sudden pain yet it still turn you on. He continue sucking your boobies not forgetting to mark each part of it while his fingers never stopped fucking you even tho you've already cum and hit your climax.

He removed his fingers and put it in his mouth, tastes every bit of you. You look at him and didn't dare to look away, damn he's so fucking hot right now.

He smirk and pulled you down, turning you around and pin your head and hands on the island.

"Fuck I need to go and get your dad" you said. He got irritated hearing that from you he poke his inner cheek and unplugged his belt.

He it's your butt with it till he pushed himself inside you without giving warning.

You moan out loud not caring who evers hear you, you just enjoyed being fuck by the youngest mafia under the tables.

He continue fucking you to your butthole while spanking your thighs, playing with your boobies, and sucking your neck. You enjoyed everything, he made you cum by rubbing your clit at the same time he's fucking you from behind, massaging your boobs on his other hand while his mouth is placed on your neck, you fucking enjoy it all.

He reached his highest point and released his cum inside you. He hugged you from behind while he's still inside you, both of you are breathing heavily.

"Are you going to k'll me now" you asked as you chuckles. He sigh and kiss the side of your head.

"No I will k'll every man who will try to steal you from me, even it that means I had to k'll my own father" he said.

[titanicfreija]

Tributary

"I saw your Guardian in the Iron Banner."

Caiatl's voice surprised the Ghost and Guardian, and Freija leapt to her feet with a start. "How do you know?" asked Sunny, hovering into Caiatl's line of sight.

She seemed amused at their reaction, rocking to her heels and lowering her tusks. "I asked the name of particular Tributaries that I found impressive, and hers was one. That armor set is quite small."

Freija looked down at herself and smiled sheepishly. "The legs help me run faster."

~

"And they send bolts of electricity amongst your foes when you strike them," Caiatl agreed, speech unusually fast for herself. Freija smiled when she recognized the enthusiasm. "I do enjoy Valus Forge's sports. We have simulated them, but the live fire cannot be matched."

Freija giggled and Caiatl chortled. "You are fearless," she told Freija.

"I..." Sunny interrupted when she dropped a foot and a half. "Yeah," she sighed.

Caiatl humphed pleasantly. "The deadliest among you were quite impressive, but I find this game favors those who play the objective. The deadliest among you seemed only interested in being the deadliest."

Freija moaned and rolled her head in exasperation. "Yeah. They're still doing something, gives people like me something to pick up. But they'll leave the crests when I'm not there to pick them up, or worse, they'll make so many that even if they do pick them up, there's some left behind. That's partially my fault for dying, though."

Caiatl humphed again and crossed her arms. "I appreciate your capacity for clear thought in combat. It is amusing to see you give in to your instincts and stay to fight long after you should have retreated," she said.

Freija giggled nervously and ran a hand over her hair. "Yeah, my disengage is shit. I'm working on it. As long as my engage isn't too... Uh. Engaged, I do okay." She smiled wanly.

Sunny, who had subconsciously drifted to Freija's side, wheeled her petals. "It's good to see you, Empress," she sang. "I'm glad you like the Banner. It was the first place Freija got to fight her fellow Guardians, so it's kept a warm place in our hearts, and we come back when Saladin does. We're glad you let him keep it."

"It was an excellent opportunity to witness Guardian battle techniques," Caiatl said with a jovial shift in her stance. "It has also been... Fun. I have certainly enjoyed targeting the Guardians with drop pods. Valus Forge has promoted this, in fact. He says that many could do with lessons of the kind."

Freija giggled again. "I was only in the way once," she objected playfully. "This time. Today."

Caiatl rumbled a laugh and gave the Guardian a nod, then turned back to Sunny. "I would appreciate your company at your convenience."

She almost hid the exhaustion but Sunny and Freija caught it anyway.

"My pleasure! Freija has a date coming up, I'll ping you?"

(I have no idea where I'm gonna take that)