#he's her science mentor

[artificialkids-2k23-official]

liking rwby despite some... questionable writing decisions and despite roosterteeth is like still liking a disney movie despite disney does that make sense

Oh no anon you are mistaken. I do not like RWBY. I hate RWBY. I divorced RWBY three years ago when I realized that the entire premise of their plot is "Ruby is right and morality is determined by proximity to her" and that opened my eyes to the SCORES of other bad writing choices they've made prior. Just I got custody of the cast in the divorce so those are my characters now.

I also just have a lot of merch leftover from before the divorce that I hang onto because I do still love those characters so much.

[evilminji]

You ever fuck up so bad, you accidentally kidnap someone?

Imagine, if you will, the players of our scene. Young Justice. Perhaps the Teen Titans. It matters not, really, only that they are young. Too young, in fact, for the booze they have smuggled in, to celebrate still being ALIVE.

They didn't think they would be, approximately seven hours ago.

They didn't think ANYONE would be, by this time, seven hours later.

The world celebrates. Families hug, children cry and laugh, lovers desperately reunite. They did it. They saved the day. Survived.

With new wounds and some fresh new trauma to show for it, too. Perhaps... Perhaps it is that. And the looseness of alcohols effect on the tounge. Combined with their new closeness... that gets them talking. Sharing.

Talking of skills. Training. Histories normally not mentioned. Perhaps even bitching about this mentor or that old teacher, and OH, weren't they a NAG! "Fundamentals~!" The magic user mocks in drunkin parody of their old teacher. "it's all about the FUNDAMENTALS! Practice circles until you puke!"

But...

Oh? Oh DEAR~

Drunks have such POOR impulse control, don't they? The Speedster scoffs. He doesn't mean harm. Truely, he doesn't. But to him? It is a constant irritant against sore skin, that his team mates have access to such powerful and strange powers... yet choose not too study them at ALL! Ask questions. That they haven't considered the advancements humanity could make if they just TRIED.

Everything has an answer.

Just because you don't know what it IS yet, doesn't mean it doesn't EXSIST out there.

But this is an old argument. They ALSO a sore spot for the magic user and (by the many gods they know better then to swear by) they are SICK of it! You- *urk!* You think you can do BETTER? Explain it then, Mr. "Magic isn't real"!

And oh dear, oh dear~

The usual mitigator has already fallen asleep. Passed out, really, having amongst other things, texted their Ex and decided they NEEDED to dye their hair. Which leaves no one to stop what about to unfold. As the Speedster slams down his drink, his hyper accelerated metabolism leaving him, ironically, one of the LEAST drunk in the room.

But... sometimes all you NEED to royally fuck up?

Is to be just buzzed enough to ignore your better instincts.

And the argument kicks up. Again. Heats up. Again. But this time? Goes further. They are standing, yelling, in each other's faces. The Speedster certain they are just "making things up". The magic user hissing that the arcane is a field of STUDY. A SCIENCE and ART. Just because YOU don't-

But?

Well... One must ask. Have you ever FOUGHT a Speedster? Can you even conceive of what a pico-second FEELS like? What the Speedforce, once active, makes the world LOOK like? It is like statues. Silence. Calling a timeout on reality itself.

You can walk away.

No one can really stop you.

You can walk out the door, up the stairs, to your friends room, and grab books from their shelf. Sit and read them. ALL of them. The whole shelving unit. In the time it took a fraction of a second to pass. Then get up, put everything back, go back down stairs, search for supplies, find them, and return to your conversation. Having studied everything they have in the building.

And for them? It's like blinking. You just... have the supplies now. Air is displaced.

And you're ready to fuckin PROVE it.

You looked up all the symbols they used. So NOW? You can use nonsense. No chance that ANYTHING will happen, right? It's not "official magic"! He says, talking over a buzzed magic user. Who's staring at him blankly, mind churning as they try figure out why... why it sounds like he's saying he's about to do the One Thing they were... told.. to never...

Oh God.

WAIT!

DONT!

But it's too late. Our dear Speedster has made his "gibberish" circle. Chanted randomly strung together magically charged NONSENSE. Then? Let her rip! See? Nothing happ-

The world seems to suck in it's breath and wind up, as though preparing to PERSONALLY punish such hubris. The magic user us screaming. Back! Every GET BACK! Move, move, MOVE! Green hisses and crackles from the circle.

As.

Reality.

CRACKS.

!!!BOOM!!!

Glass shatters and electronics are beyond salvation. The couchs many dove behind are shredded, but hold. Sections of the ceiling and floor collapsing. The Radiation alarm deeper in the base kicks in with a clicking wail. There is SOMETHING casting a looming shadow... and it has a CROWN.

The air burns like arctic winter wind and ozone.

Before anyone can think of what to DO, a harsh golden light rips open reality and out steps most of JLA Dark. The are standing in front of the now completely trashed Zeta-tube. Which they could not USE. They do not look amused.

"What. Did you. DO!?" Snarls an exhausted John Constantine from the front of the line up, his normal rougish face is still half bruises and the cigarette he's holding looks like it's the only thing keeping him from strangling someone. "We could feel that from FUCKIN SPACE! We're you trying to blow up the PLANET?!"

"Good QUESTION!" snarls another voice, from the direction of where the circle should be "Here's another one! Where the HELL am I and who are you people?!"

Every spins to look.

There, floating above the green glowing circle, is a teen in a crown.

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @dcxdpdabbles @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @hdgnj @nerdpoe

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING: dub con, non con, dark!Coryo, dom!Coryo, soft!dom!Coryo, overstimulation, vibrator, sex (p in v), slight degradation, spit kink

Coriolanus Snow was thriving under Dr. Gaul. Between his studies at the University ( double major in Military Strategies and Political Science) and his work as Dr. Gaul's assistant (he was quickly promoted from intern to personal assistant due to his cunning and cold nature, which impressed the mad scientist) he was a very busy young man. You didn't see much of him anymore, even though he's been your best friend since you were both little.

You weren't mad about it though. You understood, he had responsibilities and spending what little time he had with you was impossible. He has a family to spend time with.

And a girlfriend.

Your stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine, had made sure to drop the fact that Coriolanus Snow was seeing Livia Cardew one night during dinner. He just casually dropped the ball, as if he was talking about the weather.

Your little brother, Darius, who had just started the Academy, gave you a sad look of empathy. He knew how you felt about your best friend.

You thought that your parents didn't know, but they did. Your mother and stepfather knew that you were, somehow beyond all logic, in love with your childhood best friend. And your stepfather, being a wartime hero, was on the war council that was headed by none other than Dr. Gaul.

Yea, the same Dr. Gaul that your best friend, Coryo, was studying and working under. 

You didn't know it, but your stepfather talked to the mad scientist about how he was going to be arranging a match for you soon, but he needed her little lab rat out of the way because he was around too much. Would corrupt you. General Byzantine also told Dr. Gaul that you were too sweet, too innocent for a young man like Snow. That he'd never approve of the match, so she better push him into somebody else's arms and away from you.

Cue Coryo's relationship with Livia.

But unknown to you, that relationship ended before it even reached the month milestone.

The real reason why the platinum blonde that held your heart in his large, calloused hands was absent so much from your life was because of the project he was working on with Dr. Gaul.

A very important project that was commissioned to cure the female ailment known as Hysteria. Something that doctor's stopped diagnosing near the end of the early 20th century. 

But now, well into the 22nd century, Hysteria in women's back and the treatment for it can be quite time consuming and strenuous on a doctor's wrist. 

So, Dr. Gaul and in extension Coriolanus Snow were commissioned to recreate the treatment tool of old that was used to help alleviate women's hysteria thru hysterical paroxysm.

The tool of old was an industrial grade electric vibrator. To be used by doctors to treat stressed and agitated women by bringing them to orgasm via clitoral stimulation.

It truly was a practice done in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One that, apparently, was back.

Or at least the vibrator part of the treatment for hysteria would be back once the device was finished, tested, and approved. Until then, the doctors of Panem have to do manual clitoral massages to treat hysteria.

“Mr. Snow, the device is ready for live subject testing.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, turning the vibrating tool off and placing it down on the work table.

Coriolanus wanted to laugh his ass off at Dr. Gaul's professional demeanor when it came to announcing that the vibrator was ready to test on pussies.

When his mentor told him what she'd been commissioned to make, he sprayed his tea out of his nose and literally choked. He couldn't believe that doctors had to bring their female patients to orgasm by roughly rubbing their clits because they were agitated and stressed due to sexual frustration. And the fact that the Capitol husbands were sending their wives to doctors for both the diagnosis and cure of hysteria (sexual frustration) baffled him.

Couldn't the husbands just play with their wives pussies themselves?

Dr. Gaul assumed that Coriolanus’ reaction to her commission project was one of proper breeding. Proper gentlemen are brought up to treat their women like dainty china dolls in bed, and to only use them for heirs. That lust was wrong to feel for a wife, a woman of proper breeding. That a gentleman was expected to join a sporting club (a sex club or brothel) in order to enact his base and lustful needs.

So, Dr. Gaul assumed that those teachings were the reason for Coriolanus' reaction to them having to invent an industrial grade vibrator for medical use.

She never once thought that the platinum blonde was judging the Capitolites backwards view of sexuality.

Coriolanus wasn't shy when it came to sex, but maybe that's because he spent some time in District 12 as a peacekeeper. Sex wasn't dirty and taboo in the districts. Hell, random hookups behind an alley with someone you met mere minutes earlier was a norm. Girls that looked so cute with their big doe eyes and simple cotton dresses would drop to their knees in a snap of a finger to hungrily suck cock. Those same girls would bend over, eager to take a cock. And half the time they didn't care what hole it was shoved in. Ass or pussy, as long as they got a good pounding that made them see stars. And then there were those handful of girls that would let a pair of Peacekeepers spit roast them.

So, safe to say, Coriolanus had a sexual awakening while a peacekeeper. He learnt what he liked, what he didn't like, and all of his kinks over the course of a summer. 

And his sexual appetite didn't change when he returned to the Capitol. But, unlike the other gentlemen in the Capitol, he didn't join a sporting club. He wasn't going to pay for a sex club membership when he could go out to Pluribus’ club, pick up a pretty girl, and fuck for free.

He just wasn't counting on the capitolite ladies to be prudes.

And the biggest prude of all was his ex.

Livia Cardew.

She didn't want to do anything-

ANYTHING-

-until her wedding night. All because of what she was taught, what all proper Capitol girls were taught. 

And just the thought of sucking cock disgusted her. She even slapped him across the face when he suggested it.

So, before they reached their month anniversary, Coriolanus broke up with Livia.

He also threw himself head first into his studies and work as a way to keep his mind off of sex. Settling for fisting his cock and  his fantasies fluttering behind his closed eyelids when his urges got too much to handle.

And now, here he is, helping Dr. Gaul invent a vibrator to get all the prudes of the Capitol off because their sexual frustrations are making them unbearable bitches to live with.

“When do you plan on conducting the tests?” Coriolanus asked Dr. Gaul, watching her as she boxed up the vibrating invention.

“I need to recruit some young ladies, of all different ages, from the districts for medical testing.” Dr. Gaul began while locking the invention up in a cabinet. “Of course, their families will be compensated with a small payment, since they'll be tied up here for some time.” The wild, frizzy haired woman sickly smiled while crossing the lab. Coriolanus followed behind her as she explained, “All of that will take time, so I conclude that testing will take place within the next 4-6 weeks at the earliest.”

Dr. Gaul exited the lab with Coriolanus right behind her. “I’d like to test it on a friend of mine, right away. That is, if I have permission to do so, Dr. Gaul.”

“And does this female friend of yours just happen to be General Byzantine's stepdaughter, Y/N?” The scientist asked knowingly, walking down the white hallway leading out of the heart of the lab.

“Yes, that would be her. She's been my best friend since we were children; she'd help me test out the vibrating tool without a second thought.”

“You should tread lightly, Mr. Snow. General Byzantine is in the midst of arranging a matrimonial match for Miss Y/N. Her helping test out our little invention is not going to sit well with him.” Dr. Gaul warned her prodigy, turning down a corner and walking down another stark white hallway.

Coriolanus felt like all the air from his lungs had dried up; leaving him breathless and suffocating. You were going to be handed off to some undeserving asshole. That wasn't right. It wasn't fair either.

You were supposed to be his.

It was common knowledge between your mother and his Grandma’am that when he was ready to settle down, he'd seek you out.

But your stepfather was almost done finalizing an arranged marriage for you with somebody. With somebody that wasn't him.

That was complete and utter bullshit.

Now more than ever, Coriolanus wanted to test that vibrator on your pussy. He wanted to make you cum multiple times; turn you into an overstimulated, crying, babbling mess begging for more. Begging for him to fill you up, fuck you with his cock and make you his.

And by God, he was going to make you his.

And he's going to use that invention, the industrial grade vibrating medical tool, to do it.

“Dr. Gaul, what the general doesn't know, won't hurt him. Besides, I’ll be testing a treatment for hysteria on my best friend. A treatment that, once married, her husband might send her to see a doctor for.”

Your husband was never ever sending you to get your pussy played with because Coriolanus was going to take care of your pussy himself. He wasn't going to let anyone touch you.

Only he's allowed to do that.

Just like he's the only one that's allowed to marry you.

“Very well, Mr. Snow, you have my permission to test our invention on your female best friend.” Dr. Gaul nodded as they reached an elevator. Hitting the button to open the steel box, she asked, “When do you want to conduct the testing?"

“As soon as possible.” Coriolanus honestly told his mentor. “I’d like to bring her here tonight, if she's free. If not, then the soonest day she has open in her schedule.” He said as the metal doors in front of them dinged open.

“And I imagine you want to be the only one conducting the experiment on your live test subject?” Dr. Gaul knowingly asked as they entered the elevator. The mad scientist might be diabolical, but she was very intelligent and knew that Coriolanus Snow was going to use that vibrator they invented to ruin you. And to do that, he'd want to be alone with you, to break you.

The scientist thought it was amusing. How her pupil wanted to ruin you with a vibrator because he couldn't have you. 

What she didn't know was that Coriolanus wanted to ruin you, but not because he couldn't have you. But to make you his. To make you pliable to him; want only him and abandoned all of your family’s plans for you just in order to receive endless pleasure from him.

“Yes.” Coriolanus firmly said as the doors to the elevator dinged shut.

“Very well, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul nodded as the elevator began to ascend. “You may have your privacy conducting your experiment on your female best friend.”

You were home with your little brother while your parents were out at one of the finest restaurants in the city. Unknown to you, they were meeting with your potential future husband to discuss your dowry along with his expectations as your future husband.

Your brother was doing his homework and you were sitting on the living room couch, watching tv whenever the doorbell rang. You ignored it, assuming that either the Avox or the housekeeper, Marisol, would answer it.

You guessed correctly when you heard the heavy footfalls of shoes echoing against the marble floors. You didn't pay it any mind, assuming that one of your brother's friends had come over to study or something.

“Miss Y/N, your friend Mister Coriolanus is here to see you.” Marisol announced, standing in the archway of the room.

You tore your attention off of the TV and looked towards the living room entrance only to see your best friend strolling by your housekeeper.

“Thank you, Marisol.” You simply dismissed the middle-aged woman, causing her to nod and walk off.

You were shocked to see Coryo. It's been so long since you've seen him. “Coryo, what're you doing here?” You asked in awe, standing up and closing the distance between the two of you.

Before you could even approach him for a hug (that you so desperately craved from the platinum blonde man), Coriolanus told you. “I've came to ask you for some help testing an invention I've been working on with Dr. Gaul.”

“Oh…” You sadly sighed, letting your disappointment linger heavily in the air. And here you thought he came over to see you because he missed you. No, that wasn't the case. He didn't miss you at all; just needed you to help him on some project for work.

“Darling, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to help your best friend.”

“Are we still best friends, Coryo? I never see you anymore.”

“Of course we're still best friends, little dove.” The platinum blonde assured you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His hand trailed up and down your spine in a tantalizing touch that sent shivers throughout your nervous system. “I'll never abandon you, babygirl. I’ve just been preoccupied helping Dr. Gaul with a very important invention and studying for my University classes.” You could feel the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat as your head rested against his chest while your arms circled his wait. Hugging him close.

You missed hugging your best friend; you missed his scent and how he made you feel safe.

“I was hoping to see you at the University during lunch, but I haven't been able to. I guess you must be busy or maybe don't take your lunch break in the University’s dining hall.”

“I don't go to University, Coryo.” You told him, causing him to blink and stare at you in disbelief.

Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. You weren't enrolled at the University. How could that be? You always wanted to study either science or medicine. It was your dream; you always talked so passionately about it before he was sent off to 12 to be a peacekeeper.

“”Why not? I thought you wanted to study science or medicine?”

“My stepfather and mother says it's a waste of time since I'm just going to be a socialite and one day a housewife.” Was the honest answer you gave Coryo.

The platinum blonde man wasn't too pleased by your answer. Not by a long shot. Who were your parents to control you; arrange for you to marry some rich asshole that would suppress you.

If you wanted to study at the University then so be it. You should be able to. 

And then a marvelous idea popped into his head. It was a great way to get you to agree to help him test out the vibrator too.

“If you help me by being my test subject tonight, I’ll get you a late midterm enrollment into the University in the science field. I'll even arrange for you to be my intern, considering that I'm Dr. Gaul's assistant.”

“Coryo, you'd do that for me?” You gasped, hand covering your mouth due to your shock.

“Yes, my sweet girl, I'll do that for you." Coriolanus confirmed with a nod. He flashed you that charming, manipulative smile of his, only to say, "I'll do that and more for you, if you just help me out with testing a new invention for me.”

You chewed your bottom lip, thinking over your options. Truthfully, the only option you had was to say yes. Saying yes would both get you into the University and repair the cracks in your friendship with Coryo.

“Okay, I'll help you.” You agreed, smiling at your best friend.

“Excellent.” Coryo smiled, so wide that too many pearly white teeth were showing. The smile seemed feral, perhaps even deranged in a way. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he suggested, “Let's go, shall we?”

The lab he escorted you to was in the belly of the Citadel. Deep in the basement where nobody would hear you. He had explained, as the elevator made its descent, that the room he was taking you to was soundproof and didn't have any cameras installed in it. That it'd just be you and him; that nobody would ever see the experiment. And he'd just relay his data to his boss, Dr. Gaul.

You didn't know why he told you that. It sounded a bit weird to you, but you just nodded along and told him okay.

You felt a bit nervous as Coriolanus led you down the basement hallway and to a door. He used his electronic key card paired with a panel retina scan to open the door. He led you into the room, only to stop by the doorway to flick on the light switch. 

The too bright florescent lights flickered to life, revealing a lab table of sorts with straps and stirrups attached to it. As Coryo slammed the door shut, you noticed that on the counter next to the lab table was some sort of hospital gown and some type of large, thick wand. 

You looked over your shoulder at your best friend, only to ask him, “Why’re there straps and stirrups on the lab table? And a hospital gown on the counter, Coryo?”

“It's to test out the new invention, darling.” Coryo told you as if he was talking about the weather. “You'll need to get dressed in the gown and have your legs parted so I can properly conduct the experiment.” He explained while heading over to the counter.

“But the straps, Coryo? Are you going to tie my wrists down too?” You asked, a bit concerned, while trailing behind him.

“It's so you don't try to stop the experiment.” He dryly told you. “Now if we're done playing 20 questions, put this on and get on the lab table.” He said, handing you over the medical gown. Your fingers brushed as he added in, “Oh and take off your panties. Your pussy needs to be bare for this little experiment.”

“What?” You asked, sucking in a deep breath between your teeth. You had to let him see and use your bare pussy for the experiment? Like what? Why? “Coryo, I didn't agree to this…”

“Yes you did, Y/N.” Your best friend reminded you as his icy blue eyes cut right into your soul. Sighing, he rubbed your shoulders. “I promise, you'll like what I'm going to be doing. Just do as you're told, okay?”

“Okay.” You reluctantly gave in. “Can you turn around so I can change?” You asked, feeling a bit awkward about your best friend seeing you naked, as you slipped out of your kitten heels.

“I don't see why it makes a difference, darling. I'm going to see your pussy; might as well see your tits too.” He chuckled, leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. His icy blue eyes roaming over your form as you began to unzip your dress.

“Coryo, you have a girlfriend. Think about how she'd feel if she heard you right now.” You told him, pulling off your dress and folding it up.

“I don't have a girlfriend, Y/N. So whoever told you that's mistaken.” Coryo told you as you placed your dress on the counter.

Your brows rose up in surprise as you unhooked your bra, “Really? But I thought you were seeing Livia Cardew.”

Livia Cardew.

Of course, you knew about him and her. What you didn't know was that it didn't even last a month. And he made sure to tell you that. He also assured you that he was single; had been single for months as you finished undressing. 

You were relieved that he wasn't avoiding you because he was spending all of his time with Livia. As you put on the examination gown, you asked Coryo, “If you're not busy with Livia, then why have you been ignoring me?”

Your words made bile rise up into the platinum blonde's throat. He felt sick that you thought he was ignoring you. He wasn't ignoring you. Wasn't he? He's just been busy constructing a life for you two. 

A soft look crossed his features as he sighed, “I didn't mean to ignore you, little dove. I've just been busy with my studying and working as Dr. Gaul's assistant.” 

“Yea…” You trailed off in a long, airy sigh. You honestly wanted to believe your best friend, but didn't know if you should.

“Let me tie this for you.” Coriolanus offered, gesturing to the hospital gown. You just nodded and turned around, causing him to tie up the little ribbons on the back of the medical gown.

Like with all medical gowns, your ass was showing. The platinum blonde smirked seeing your round ass, only to grab it with his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo?” You asked in a startled tone, looking over your shoulder at your best friend as he massages and rubs your ass.

Coryo just smirked before smacking you on the ass and saying, “Go get on the table.”

Turning around to face him, you said, “I’ll get on the table, but I want to know why you grabbed my ass.”

“Maybe I grabbed it because I'm an ass man; happen to like yours.” Your bestfriend told you with mirth twinkling in his baby blues, only to walk over to the counter to grab what he needed.

“I thought men liked boobs?” You asked while making your way over to the examination table.

“Oh, I like tits too.” Coriolanus stated, in a tone that was too cheerful for the atmosphere of the sterile lab, while pulling a pair of latex gloves out of a box that was on the counter. The loud sound of latex snapping as he pulled on the gloves echoed throughout the room. “Tits and ass. Good ole T&A does it for me.” Coryo joked, trying to cut the tension in the room, as you nervously sat down on the table.

As you adjusted yourself on the table, placing your legs in the stirrups, you heard your best friend ask you, “Do you want me to use the lube or to get you wet the old fashioned way?”, from his place across the room at the counter.

“What?” You asked, your eyes nearly popping out of your head. He couldn't mean?...

“Jesus, Y/N, please tell me you've played with your pussy before. Cause if not…this is going to be one hell of an experience for you.”

“Coriolanus! This isn't something ladies talk about to their gentleman friends.” You scolded him.

Coryo decided to forgo the bottle of lube, opting to just grab the large vibrating wand. Making his way over to you, he said, “That mindset’s why I had to help Dr. Gaul invent a damn vibrator. Because sex's so taboo to talk about in the Capitol.” Coming to a stop at the lab table, he placed the vibrator down on the sheet, right below your spread legs. 

“I’ve spent some time in the districts, as you know while serving as a Peacekeeper, so I don't share the same close minded views when it comes to such things.” Coriolanus explained while walking up the length of the table. Stopping where your wrists were, he explained, “I'm not trying to embarrass you, Y/N. I want you to enjoy this thing I've got to test out. And in order for you to do that, I need to know if you've touched yourself before. I need to know if you know what to expect, what to feel.”

“Fine…I’ll answer you.” You gave in while your best friend strapped down your left wrist.

The platinum blonde arched a brow, his hand resting resting on your right wrist, as he waited on baited breath for your answer.

An answer of, “Yes, I've played with myself before. There, you happy now?” 

“See, it wasn't so hard to tell me that. Now was it?” Your best friend remarked while strapping in your right wrist. He stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I'll make sure you're nice and wet before we begin. Just relax and enjoy the experiment.”

Coriolanus, true to his word, made sure that you were wet. He used the rough pad of his thumb to circle and tease your clit. He didn't apply to much pressure, just enough to get you moist. 

Coriolanus wanted you to enjoy this, but he wanted to make your pussy weep and flood juices from the vibrations of the wand. He could always drive you crazy with his hand another time.

And there’s going to be endless moments between you two after tonight.

“I'm going to start the experiment now. Okay, darling?” Coryo told you, picking up the vibrator and turning it onto the lowest setting.

“Okay.” You nodded. 

“Just relax for me.” He instructed before pressing the buzzing wand to your clit.

The light vibration against your clit felt good. So good in fact, that you let out a tiny whimper.

“See, I knew you'd like this.” Your best friend said, only to turn the vibrator up another notch.

“Mmmm…Coryo…” Your breath hitched up in a tiny whine. The slight chance in speed against your clit sent wetness to pool from your pussy.

“You're doing good, my little dove.” Coriolanus praised while teasing your pussy with the vibrator.

Without warning, he turned it up to the third level. He pressed it hard against your clit, needing to see you cum. He craved the sight of your pussy gushing for him. And he'd keep amping up the speed of the vibrator to do it.

And the large industrial vibrator had 10 speed settings. 

So…

You were in for a long night.

“Oh my God! Coryo!” You moaned, the vibrations of the third setting on your clit driving you closer to cumming. 

“Feels good “ Coryo stated with a smug grin on his face.

“Yes.” You nodded. Your legs, spread wide in the stirrups, began to tense up as you mewled, “Feels so good, Coryo. So, so good.” Your pussy began to spasm as you cried out, “I-I m gonna cum, Coryo.”

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your best friend told you, holding the vibrator firmly against your twitching clit. “Cum right now. Do it, cum like the little slut you are.”

You didn't know if it was the vibrations against your clit or the dirty, demanding words Coriolanus told you, but all of a suddenly you were cumming with a moan. 

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes shined in excitement as he watched your juices flow out of your pussy as you came. Oh, he thought you looked so beautiful. He could stare at your soaked, leaky cunt for hours. 

You thought that your best friend would turn the vibrator off, unstrap you from the table, and end the experiment with the vibrating wand, but he didn't. In fact, Coriolanus turned it up another notch. 

“Coryo, I already came. You gotta stop.” You told him, trying not to let out a high pitched wine, as your clit began to throb. 

“Sorry, baby, but we're not stopping until all 10 speeds are tested.” The platinum told you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Adjusting the pressure he was using to hold the vibrator against your clit, he simply said, “We're only on the 4th speed.”

“Oh no…”  You trailed off in a broken moan.

“Oh yes!” He mocked, watching your pussy as it began to pool once more. “Perhaps I should turn it up?” Coryo asked while turning up the speed.

“Coryo!” You screamed as your second orgasm hit you, causing your pussy to spasm and squirt juices onto the lab table you’re on.

“Oh, so you're a squirter?” Coryo asked, a wide smile on his face, as his eyes locked onto yours from his place between your pussy.

If you weren't so blissed out right now you'd be embarrassed. 

“I'm going to turn the speed up again, see if we can get you squirting some more.”

“Oh, God, Coryo. Please, please, stop. No more, I'm too sensitive.” You begged, feeling like you couldn't handle any more.

Coriolanus did something you weren't expecting. He stretched out his arm and took your hand in his, holding it. “I know, you're sensitive, baby girl, but you can do this. I know you can go all the 10 speeds for me.”

“Coryo.” You whimpered, lower back arching in an attempt to get away from the vibrations assaulting your puffy, swollen clit.

“Y/N, baby, calm down. You can do this; I wouldn't put you thru this if you couldn't.” Coriolanus told you while cranking the speed up once more.

Coriolanus loves seeing you overstimulated and thrashing about on the table for him as he talking you thru everything. But, his pants were starting to tighten. He needed to fuck you and fast, so that's why he decided to switch the vibrator to level 6 so quickly instead of teasing you.

“Coryo, please, please.” You begged, but for what you didn't even know.

“What do you need, Y/N? You need to cum again?”

“Yea.” You desperately nodded as tears began to brim your eyes. “I'm so sensitive but I need to cum so bad.”

“You're such a little slut for me.” Your best friend chuckled, only to press the vibrator harder against your clit and turn it up to level 7. He adjusted the position slightly, causing you to cum with a loud scream. Once again your pussy squirted your juices everywhere. This time your thighs were wet, the table underneath you was wet, and even Coryo's shirt was soaked.

Coriolanus is positive that if he didn't have you strapped down then you would've flown right up off the lab table.

“I know you're sensitive, but I know you have one more in you. Can you give me one more, baby girl? Hmm?” Coriolanus cooed, stroking your hand with his long fingers as he turned the vibrator up to the next level.

“I dunno, Coryo.” You sighed, feeling listless, as you felt even faster vibrations against your too sensitive and swollen pearl. Your pussy’s quivering and your asshole’s clenching from the overstimulation you're feeling. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried, “I-I’m aching so bad, Coryo. I need something more, but I'm so sensitive.”

Coryo knew just what you needed. Your body was craving his cock. And, honestly, his cock was painfully rock hard from watching you that he's going to be stuffing you full once he's made you come again from the vibrator.

“You need my cock, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, matter of factly. “Don't worry, once we're done, I'll flip you over and fuck you.” 

“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I'm supposed to be saving myself for my future husband.” You informed him. You couldn't just sleep with him, you had to stay pure. What would your future husband think if you were already used up on your wedding night. If there wasn't any blood on your thighs to signal that he was the only one to claim your purity as his prize.

“You've done that, darling. You've stayed pure for me, but I can't wait any longer to have you.”

Your toes began to curl and your fingers were clenching into fists as you felt a hot, unbearable tingling began to build up inside of you, despite how overstimulated and sore your clit was. “You want to marry me?” You asked, more like moaned, as Coriolanus turned the vibrator up to the 9th level.

Your nails dug into his left hand as your pain began to turn into pleasure once more. Coriolanus thought you were so beautiful like this. Spread out before him, helpless and to his mercy. All fucked out, begging for things you didn't even know you wanted or needed- until now. 

Oh, and the unorthodox marriage proposal was the icing on the cake for the platinum blonde man. Made this night all the more special. “Of course I want to marry you, Y/N. I'd be a fool not too.”

Tears blurred your vision, sticking to your lashes, as you wailed, “Coryo, please, this is too much.” 

“You're doing such a good job for me, darling.” Coriolanus praised you, causing warmth to pool in your lower belly. “Just one more speed and it'll all be over, baby girl. Just one more for me, yea?” Coriolanus assured you as his lust blown eyes raked over your writhing form that was strapped down.

“Okay. Just one more.” You agreed, causing him to turn the vibrator onto the last setting.

The 10th speed. 

The vibrations sent a harsh jolt straight to your core. You became an overstimulated, babbling mess. Your head thrashed, your pussy spasmed, your asshole clenched, your legs shook, and your eyes were literally blinded with tears. The feeling was oh so much. It was both euphoria and hell at the same time. The pain ebbed into pleasure, a white hot pleasure that seemed impossible to reach.

And before you knew it, you were cumming hard with Coryo's name on your lips like a prayer.

Coryo quickly turned off the vibrator and tossed it to the side. The large wand crashed into something, but he didn't care. He just needed to get you unstrapped so he could fuck your 5th orgasm into you.

Fuck, he was so hard and needed your cunt so bad. 

Quickly, Coriolanus pulled your legs out of the stirrups and lowered tje metal things down to the sides of the table. Then he rushed up to the top of the table. To free your arms.

You were panting and fluttering your eyelashes, attempting to see thru all of your tears, as your best friend quickly unbuckled your wrist straps. “You did such a good job for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Kissing you on the forehead, as your newly freed arms limply lay by your side, he asked, “Can you sit up for me or are you too fucked out?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You honestly told him. Your body was numb with pleasure, so you had no idea if you could sit or not.

“Shit, did I break you?” He asked, pride laced in his baritone, as he helped you to sit up.

“I’m fine, just feel a bit numb’s all.” You told him, pressing your face against his chest as he held you. 

“Yea, you're too fucked out.” Coriolanus proudly chuckled.

Lifting your head up to look at him, you innocently asked, “Why's your shirt all wet for, Coryo?”

“That's all you, little dove.” He told you while petting your hair. “You came so hard; soaked everything near that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“Oh…” You buried your face in his chest. You were embarrassed; afraid of his reaction to you cumming so messily. “That's never happened before when I- you know- while alone in bed.” You admitted, hoping that he wouldn't think you were weird or something for making such a mess.

Coriolanus found your innocence to be cute. You were embarrassed about the spectacular show you put on for him.

And only him.

Because you've never made yourself squirt before.

Pride swelled in his chest at the mere fact that he had you squirting over and over again.

Him.

“Y/N, my dove, what you did was natural. It was very special too.”

“It was?” You asked, lifting your head to look up at him.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded. “Not everyone can squirt.” He explained with a smile. Pressing his forehead against yours and bringing your hand to cup the large bulge in his too tight pants, he said, “I need to fuck you so bad. Make you mine, Y/N.”

You palmed his bulge, causing him to let out a strangled moan. “Did you mean it when you said that I don't have to wait anymore? That you’ll marry me without my virginity?”

“Y/N, my darling rose, of course I'm going to marry you.” Coriolanus told you with a firm certainly in his voice as he cupped your face in his large, calloused hands. “I’m the one taking your virginity and I'm the one that's marrying you, so the order of the two doesn't really matter.” He told you in a tone that was too sweet, perhaps even on the verge of manipulative. 

Coriolanus kissed you, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, bruising force. You were taken back by the kiss, but quickly responded to it by melding your lips with his. It felt like he was sucking all of the air out of your lungs as he kissed you.

Breaking the kiss, his lips ghosted yours as he swore, “I'll bring you home with me tonight after we fuck and tomorrow I'll go talk to the general; tell him about our engagement.”

“I'm going to need a ring.” You reminded him, a small smile on your lips.

“I'll tell Grandma’am I'm ready to give you her heirloom ring in the morning. She'll know what that means.” Coriolanus assured you while picking you up and bending you over the lab table. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he warned, “This is going to be quick.” You heard his pants pool around his ankles as he told you. “You’ll enjoy it, but I'm too hard and you're too stimulated for me to drag this out too long.” 

Coryo quickly pulled down his boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. “Hold onto the edge of the table, Y/N.” He instructed, grasping his dick and giving it a few pumps.

 Looking over your shoulder, as he lined his angry red tip at your soaking wet entrance, you asked, “Is this going to hurt, Coryo? I heard it hurts the first time.”

“With how your hole’s sloppy and dripping, my cock’ll easily slip in. The stretch might burn, but it won't hurt.” He explained before pushing into you.

You bit your lower lip as you felt his large cock stretch out your tight walls. It stung a bit, like he said it would, but it wasn't painful. Not like some of the rumors you heard.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Continuing to push himself into your tight, wet heat, he pressed a kiss to your spine (a part that was exposed by the gap in your medical gown) and cooed, “You're taking me so well.” His breath was hot against your skin as he assured you, “Just a little bit more and I'll be balls deep, Y/N.”

Coryo and you both let out little moans whenever he bottomed out. He felt so good inside of you. You felt so full, and it fanned the flames of your desire for him. And Coriolanus felt that being sheathed in your tight, wet warmth was heaven. The feeling of your cunt gripping his cock was better than anything he could've ever imagined. 

When he pulled his hips back, causing his cock to deliciously drag against your walls, and pushed them forward, driving his cock deep inside of you; hitting your special spot deep within you, you let out a delighted scream. 

“That's it, let me hear you scream for me, my good little slut.” Coryo told you, his hips roughly snapping against yours as he chased down both your highs.

He knew with how sensitive you were that it wouldn't take much to get you cumming. He also knew that if he pounded into you mercilessly then he'd be quickly cumming too.

“Feels so good Coryo.” You whined, clawing at the edge of the table as you felt the head of his cock press up against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that had your cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, your cunt's so tight. So perfect, baby.” Coryo began to babble, the feeling of your tight virgin pussy sending him into overdrive. He swears, it feels as if your cunt was made for his cock. It fit him like a glove. A perfect fit. Squeezes him just right, takes him without any problems.

Coriolanus was pussydrunk on your perfect pussy. A pussy that he was claiming as his.

And only he's allowed to pound your pussy. Paint its walls white with his cum.

You let out a loud shriek when you felt his cum heavy balls slap against your oversensitive clit. That only causes him to dig his long fingers harder into your hips and piston even harder into you. 

The lewd sound of your cunt loudly squelching paired with skin slapping skin and your loud moans filled the lab. The lab table beneath you was shaking from how hard Coriolanus was fucking you from behind. But you were so out of it with pleasure that you were worried around the table flipping over.

And even if it did, that wouldn't stop the platinum blonde from fucking into you like his life depended on it. No, he'd just keep pounding your pussy.

“You feel close.” Coriolanus gritted out as his fast paced movements got sloppier. “I'm close too, baby.”

“I’m gonna cum, Coryo. I-I’m gonna cum.” You announced in a mewl, your hips pushing back against his in a desperate attempt to chase your release.

“Me too. Me too.” Coryo told you while bending his body over yours, pressing his chest flush against your back, and grabbing your hands with his while rutting into you as quickly as he could. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my cum. Fuck a baby in you; show everyone yours mine."

All you could do was let out a string of babbled broken cries as Coriolanus had you cumming for the 5th time. And as your cunt tightly clenched him, he made a couple more sloppy thrusts before shooting his hot, thick ropes of cum into your womb.

Coriolanus laid on top of you, holding you as his cock was still buried inside of your pussy. He let go of your hand, only to grab your jaw and bring your head up towards his. Using his thumb, he wrenched your jaw open, only to hover his lips above your parted ones and spit into your mouth. The feel of it was disgusting, unnatural even, but without even thinking twice you swallowed his spit.

Coriolanus’ baby blues sparkle with possessiveness as he watches you swallow down his spit as if it was fine wine. Caressing your jaw, he told you, “You're not just my best friend, Y/N. You're my girl.”

His girl. That made your insides melt. You’ve always wanted to be his girl. You've always loved him.

And now you're his girl.

FINALLY

His girl.

“I'll help you get dressed in a minute, then we'll go home.” He told you before leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Okay.” You whispered against his lush lips. 

Oh, how you couldn't wait for him to take you home with him. Where you belong.

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 @v-love @swiftieblyth

[thesilverdoll]

This is the chance of ten lifetimes.

Every five years, twenty breakthrough actors compete over ten weeks for the name of TVs newest obsession, the silver doll. The winner, decided by the global audience, is historically known to make it big. You auditioned on a whim alongside your best friend, and somehow the both of you have made it to the final round of auditions!

Now, all you have to do is make the final cut, get along with your celebrity mentor, remember your lines and... win—all with a camera (or ten) in your face. Don't get discouraged, you made it this far for a reason.

❖ FEATURES

› Customise yourself! Groom yourself into TVs next biggest thing—pick your style, your approach to scenes, your public image, your strengths and weaknesses as an actor. As well as your appearance, personality, gender and your plan b... if you have one.

› Establish relationships with your peers! Befriend your competitors or betray them... engage in a behind-the-scenes rendezvous or two, try and gain a more intimate look into your celebrity mentors life, try and befriend everyone on stage, or keep to yourself and focus on winning.

› Compete! Participate in different challenges throughout the show. Put your best dance shoes on for theatre week, practice your screams for horror week, hope you don't get paired with someone waspish in romance week... decide how you approach each performance, and see how your choices impact your results!

› Furthermore... interact with your fans! Viewership is your best friend in The Silver Doll, so make sure you're on top of your social media game... or you can try to play the mysterious cards and keep away from public eye as much as possible, if you think that'll work out for you. Just... be careful how much you share, there's a gossip blog following the shows BTS that seems to know a little too much.

❖ ROMANCE

*full character profiles coming soon.

- Beck Taylor; he/him or she/her, 21.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Your childhood best friend that convinced you to audition beside them. Computer science student turned dropout to pursue a life on the big screen, Beck may not have years of acting under their belt, but they do have a natural talent for the dramatics. Plus, with you by their side and their on-and-off girlfriend, Sarika, at home cheering them on, they can do anything.

Beck is tall at 6'6, black, with dark braided hair and brown eyes.

- Stirling 'Sekani' Stokes, he/him, 24.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Sekani, as he wants to be known as, is the textbook example of a nepo baby. Born to two of TVs most recognisable faces, he's grown up in the spotlight. Sekani is here to prove to the world that he has the talent to grace the big screen, despite his family name... and also to prove to himself that acting is something he actually likes doing in the first place. Yeah… he’s a bit of a mess.

Sekani is 5'10, white, with messy black hair and pale green eyes.

- Troy Allard-Rose, she/her, 23.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎An aspiring actress since she was making her barbies perform dramatic monologues at six, Troy is here to win, and she’ll be damned if she lets some amateurs stop that from happening. Acting is all Troy knows, she’s been in performing arts schools and film camps alike— this is her dream. She won’t let anyone tell her she’s not worthy of achieving it.

Troy is 5’5, white, with platinum blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

Esra Ihimaera, they/them, 27.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Esra is a member of the production crew, and your very own cameraperson. They’re in charge of doing the closed interviews, and also take care of a lot of the day-to-day filming. A little less extroverted than the celebrities surrounding them, but their sweet heart and eye for detail makes them a whole lot more interesting in other aspects.

Esra is 5’11, Māori, with short bleached hair and dark brown eyes.

Bethany Tian, she/they, 28.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎One of the best stylists on the show, Beth is in charge of your hair, makeup and wardrobe for the next ten weeks. Talkative and energetic beyond belief, Beth is hard to get rest around, but she’s good to keep morale up. She’s styled celebrities for red carpets and space-exploration scenes alike. From SFX makeup to high glamour looks, there’s nothing you can’t pull off when Beth is the one styling you.

Bethany is 5’2, Chinese, with long pink hair and black eyes.

❖ THE MENTORS

*both mentors are romanceable

- Rome Alivia, he/him, 26.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A successful child-actor turned even more successful actor into his adulthood, Rome is a family name. Though he’s scrutinising and hard to wrench out of his working mindset, Rome hasn’t let the fame get to his head. He’s dedicated to improving his mentee’s abilities as actors rather than having a focus on winning.

Rome is 6’2, white, with brown hair and brown eyes.

- Shaan Jha, they/them, 30.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The last Silver Doll, Shaan is happy to return to the set that kickstarted their fame and fortunes five years prior. Eager to mould their best mentee into a winner, Shaan is optimistic in the best of times and downright delusional in the worst. They've proven their talents, though, and are positive it will be one of their mentees that win.

Shaan is 5'8, Indian, with long brown and blonde hair and brown eyes.

The Silver Doll is rated 18+ for depictions of drug and alcohol consumption, strong language, infidelity, and optional sexual scenes.

[erinwantstowrite]

Kinda random but what is Natasha and Peter’s relationship like? It was mentioned a couple times in the fic and I haven’t stopped thinking about it

natasha loves her little spider!! out of all the avengers, sans tony, she spends the most time with him. sure, the super powered heroes have been helping peter learn about his strength, tony and banner are teaching peter about their respective fields of science and engineering. but natasha is the one that's teaching him how to fight. she trains with him the most, both mental and physical. peter is severely underestimating how much the Black Widow has taught him in the almost-year that he's been training with her, and underestimating how much he's retained. the reason peter is as good as he is after two years is because he learns fast and his mentors realized how much they like teaching

natasha also spends a lot of time with peter outside of training, what with being one of the ones that actually lives almost full time at the tower. he sees her before he goes to school, after school and before he goes patrolling the city, they eat dinner together nearly every day. they have movie nights and she goes to school events if she can and she does background checks on nearly every person peter comes into contact with on a daily basis, etc. when we finally get a chance to see the avengers' POV of what's been going on during November, i hope to convey that peter's presence being missing from their lives has a big impact on them

[eileenwdj]

my spidersonas! their names are Hong Zhizhu/Red Spider (real name Hong Huiran) and Zhizhu Dajun/Lord Spider (real name Xu Xia). they are connected with each other!

backstories, doodles, and other versions under the cut

their backstories:

Zhizhu Dajun (蜘蛛大君) / Lord Spider

Real name: Xu Xia (徐侠)

Born from a poor, commoner family, Xu Xia works in a wealthy noble family's home as a servant to the young master (his version of Harry Osborne probably ?) who allows him to tag along and shadow him during his studies

A god/immortal (whom we shall not name bc I can't think) messed around and accidentally cursed a bunch of animals. Some of these animals became monsters, some physically merged with unsuspecting humans, and some others granted powers to creatures they come across, like the spider that bit Xu Xia

Bro became this world's one and only Spiderman (yayy!!!) and lived the rest of his life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!)

A lot of people thought of him as a god or a powerful immortal due to his powers and started to build temples for him and worship him (he's not god, he's just some guy who happened to get bit by a spider)

He inevitably died during a great battle against a powerful enemy. Before he died, he vowed to not rest in peace until he finds a worthy successor to serve as protector and defeat the enemy (that is presumably immortal and can strike again at anytime) and he transfered his consciousness? soul? ghost self? idk tbh? to one of his spiders

Unfortunately bro is So Tired™️ that it took him several thousand years to wake up

Hong Zhizhu (红蜘蛛) / Red Spider

Real name: Hong Huiran (洪惠然)

She's a science & engineering geek but also a History major. She originally wanted to major in STEM but ended up with History because STEM majors are expensive as hell

The mysterious and reclusive Zhizhu Dajun is her thesis topic and she frequently visits the museum to look at his statues and displays

One of the displays is a taxidermed spider

It is also the exact same spider that Xu Xia transfered himself into when he died

Xu Xia has only recently managed to wake up but is still barely able to move his new body (I imagine it must be hard to move if your body is filled with cotton, RIP)

He was intrigued by Huiran when he noticed her visiting multiple times. He deems her worthy to be his successor and with the sheer power of (god and anime on his side) will, he escaped his display and bit her

Huiran becomes her world's (and her time's) one and only Spiderwoman (yayy!!) and lives life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!!)

But you see, the way the spiderbite works is that now Xu Xia is technically in Huiran's body... so... so..... it's like,, Asa and Yoru.........

Several thousand-year-old stoic ancient ghost man becomes mentor and father figure to reluctant 22-year-old history student with a science obsession running on 12 cups of coffee and zero sleep

Shenanigans ensue

another version of Zhizhu Dajun’s design:

these were his original colors before he broke. red seemed too happy a color for his path. he then permanently changed to white, forever mourning the lives he couldn't save. Huiran chose to adopt these colors instead of the white.

extra doodles:

[chemblrish]

19 May 2023

I still can't believe it, but I GOT THE INTERNSHIP!! I'm going to spend this August learning at my country's academy of sciences and with my lab partner at that (honestly, I wouldn't have been brave enough to do this without her, bless this girl). We met up with our mentor for the first time today and he seems great - I mean, he told us he has four cats, of course he's great...

[kamodofilez]

Hellou!~

Could I ask about the other Shittens? What are your names? What is Penelope's relationship with them like? I loved her, she looked so much like the lamb, I also wonder what the goat is like with them...

Thank you, your art and your text, it rented an apartment in my head and now I can't stop thinking about what they would be like and about Penélope, I loved that she was inspired by a character from my favorite cartoon

Omg thank you so much!! I’m so glad you love Penelope! Hopefully you’ll like her siblings as well!

Okay so, as mentioned before, Penelope is the youngest out of her siblings:

Eldest - Scylla:

Works as the head enforcer of the cult, changing enforcer from simply making sure people were loyal to the cause to protecting the cult from any heretics that possibly find their way into the campground and wish to seek harm. This was implemented by the first enforcer Gremar, who was Scylla’s teacher, and Heket (she just seems like the type who would definitely do that, despite her being the ex-diety of Famine).

The responsibility of keeping the Cult and her family safe weighs heavily on Scylla’s shoulders. Especially when you’re at war with another cult who just so happens to have one of the crowns that went missing.

Middle - Thanatos:

Works as the Undertaker of the Cult, but he would tap into medicine (and possibly learn more about science, fascinating over things that have yet to have been solved). His mentor was probably Kallamar In this sense, since he’d probably be the cults medic around this time. Thanatos also deals with harvesting the corpses whenever they are needed for rituals.

Death isn’t uncommon, especially if you’re the son of its Deity. However, ever since the Lamb’s ascension, there hasn’t been a resurrection since Penelope became Preistess. The morgue has started getting fuller than usual.

Youngest - Penelope

Penelope is the Priestess of the Cult, being appointed after the Lamb’s ascension and leaving the cult to Death’s domain (which imma start referring to as the underworld). This position was previously taken by Narinder as head Priest, but when the Lamb left, he followed. She often tries connecting to the Underworld, to try talking to them again, but her prayers have yet to be answered. But she knows they still watch over them, via rituals, so there is some semblance of hope she’ll be able to make contact.

But that needs to wait, for now Penelope needs to catch the new crown bearer up to speed, and help them however possible. Though it is a bit harder when the due date is near.

(Thank you for reading my bullshit ideas that I have for the shittens, and I have some stuff planned out for NariLamb as well so stay tuned for that ;])

[hijinxinprogress]

Yj takes to mocking their mentors behavior after being lectured for being irresponsible and the public’s perception of YJ

Bart is going on about science that no one would understand even if he wasn’t talking at Mach 3 and popping out of no where going ‘flash fact-’ or starting a fight with a villain while eating an entire large pizza

Tim’s whaling on some fucking rogue and dude is 🤏🏾 close to being unconscious and tim goes “😡 now talk” (it doesn’t make it better that the rest of yj is in hysterics)

Anita mimicks the powers of whichever magic user she’s seen or heard most recently unless she gets bored and decides to act out horror movies which just leads to a villain cutting the power but they realize Anita showed up and they’re frantically trying to turn the power back on bc everyone thinks she’s actually possessed

Kon goes full on ‘Fear not, citizen! For I have arrived, a lone kryptonian with naught but justice in his heart’ along with saving one specific reporter first in every disaster (it’s linda and she thinks this is hilarious) he does hero landings and he says all the cheesy hero lines just bc he knows sometimes the medias perception of Clark annoys him (there’s a clip of a fan confessing and Kon goes on about how his only love is justice)

Greta before retirement is saying the lanterns oath before every attack and clowning Tim any chance she gets but Greta after retirement occasionally does crowd control which is just Greta doing finger guns and saying shit like totally tubular and gnarly while leading civilians away from danger or going on long winded rants about planes

Cissie is telling every person she saves that’s at least five years younger than her that she’s adopting them and then paying off some random debt and never speaking to them again or flirting with whichever member of yj is closest/has already taken down their opponent this doesn’t change much when Cissie retires, she just starts filing paperwork to adopt whoever gets second place and she will tell everyone that she’s married to the yj member on the news no matter where she is or what she’s doing

Cassie has a battle axe, a shield, and a lasso and somehow manages to use all three every fight while mimicking Diana’s speech patterns and demolishing anyone that gets a hit on yj (the only thing ww takes offense to is Cassie’s over the top feigned ineptness when it came to technology ‘Suffering Sappho! What is this strange contraption?!’ ‘🤨 my fucking phone??’)

[if-loves]

etude op. 10 no. 4 (torrent)

// Yandere Dr Ratio

Sum: When the rain falls, so too does your tears.

wc: 3278

warnings: implied depression, suicidal thoughts, implied suicide attempt, ooc ratio probably

a/n: sorry for the disappearance LMAO uni was holding me by the neck and not in the way i enjoy

also this was a whole load of yapping ngl maybe i projected too much xd

also pls let me know if i missed any tags!! i’d hate to mistag/forget any cw tags

likes & reblogs are appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

As a student with the honor of studying directly under the one and only Veritas Ratio, you’re more than used to the bluntness of his words and his marking. After all, he’s the Dr Veritas Ratio, arguably one of the most intelligent people, beings even, in the cosmos, and you’re just a mere academic. Sure, you’ve had your theories and whatnot, but compared to someone like Dr Ratio you’re basically a child.

Everyone tells you that you’re incredibly fortunate to be able to have someone as prestiged as him as your tutor, that you would take advantage of the opportunity and use it to further your own studies and knowledge, but you’re not quite sure if furthering your studies is truly what you desire. Coming to university was already an expectation from your parents, who in their right mind would reject them when they’ve already saved all that money exclusively for your studies?

You don’t think yourself to be especially smart or gifted in anything. To yourself, you are just a regular person who will go on to graduate, find a job, and maybe settle down if you were given the chance. You don’t expect much for and from yourself.

However, Dr Ratio clearly seems to think otherwise; or else why would he choose you of all people to be under his tutelage?

It has been almost twelve cycles of the moon, and you have yet to figure out why. The agreed period of mentoring is coming to its end, and he expects a full length thesis and three separate reports from you concerning your studies and experience under him, and you cannot for the life of you think of anything that could ever satisfy him. In the whole period of his guidance, he has never once scored you above a low thirties. The more it happened, the more you thought it was more of a him issue than yours - but that’s what people who can’t take criticism say, so perhaps you’ll refrain from thinking that thought.

The sun had long set, leaving your side of the planet at the mercy of the night. In front of you, a too-bright screen from your laptop glares at you with a blank page, as if demanding you finally do something instead of staring out of the window wistfully as if you were some widow lamenting the loss of her husband.

It takes you everything not to just give up and curl up in the warmth of your bed.

With the nth sigh of the day, you woefully start typing, frustration in the pits of your mind. What in the world could you even write about, anyway? The spinning of the sun? No, you’re sure there’s thousands of papers written about that, similarly for the moon; you’re not one for mathematics either, so that was out of the question. Science isn’t really your forte either, so your options for a paper that would gain Dr Ratio’s approval is about zero. Maybe you should just drop out.

When the world is asleep, you remain awake, and so too does something else.

~~~

There are still a few days left before your thesis and reports are to be submitted, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve written utter nonsense.

What in the world are you talking about? Even you didn’t know. Something about some mythicised substance known as Xuixzedlm, that’s apparently supposed to be what the deep oceans of your world is made of, but none have been able to explore said oceans due to their size, toxicity and the creatures lurking beneath its surface. In fact, almost 99% of the oceans have remained unexplored.

You kind of regret choosing such a substance to be the main part of your thesis, considering how little information there is of it. Sure, the main point of a thesis is to propose a theory to be proved, but for something like this where the research is extremely minimal, you’ve ended up circling back to your previous points due to the lack of ideas and, of course, proven research. Not that he’d care about your excuses.

Your days leading up to the submission date are spent typing, deleting, and referencing your paper. You’re a little less stressed about the report because it didn’t exactly require the same thinking as a thesis did, so you managed to finish those in a week. You’d still need to proofread them a few more times to ensure grammar and whatnot was perfect, but ultimately, its priority was far lower on your list.

However, something odd has happened recently.

One evening when you had finally arrived back home after spending most of the day at one of the university’s libraries, you found a silver key with lilac purple highlights and a strange symbol in the middle. You’d asked your parents, but they hadn’t a clue either, leading to some concern that your room may have been broken into. There were a few off parts about that theory, some being that none of your belongings were missing, there was no evidence of lock tampering on your windows, and most of all, why said person would leave an expensive and important looking key on your table.

The sudden and suspicious appearance of the key led to you keeping it on your person at all times, for a reason you’re not exactly quite sure of other than because it felt right. There’s an inexplicable familiarity to it, as if it belongs to you, but you can never seem to recall where you’ve seen it before, if you ever have in the first place.

Another weird thing has been happening ever since you found the key - you’ve been feeling a strange desire to enter the toxic ocean.

The sounds of the waves splashing against the shore invites you in your dreams, and you always take a step forward, one step after another until the water almost touches your toes. The sun is setting upon you, the breeze gently blowing; the sight in front of you is the picture of ethereal. Just as you take one more step, just as you fall into the abyss, someone pulls you back and you are jolted awake.

Scholars say dreams are the subconscious taking its turn, toying with fantasies and fears indiscriminately. Sometimes they mix, giving birth to hopes that only end in hopelessness, happiness that only ends in despair. If this is true, does your subconscious desire death?

~~~

Veritas Ratio has always thought himself as logical. Most have thought the same of him as well, the rest thinking him some sharp-tongued snake that will not hesitate to bite them should he see fit.

When it comes to you however, he feels an unexplainable feeling in his chest and head, a desire that has only grown since the moment he chose you to be under his guidance for a year. His harshness may not reflect it, but it is merely his way of showing he cares - by being extra critical of your work so that you know how to improve. Veritas Ratio truly wants nothing but the best for a student like you.

Lately, this feeling has grown much in size and desire, leaving him finding trouble in resisting it. It lingers like a persistent headache, and acts up when you are around, leaving him in a constant battle for retention of sanity. His mental fortitude currently leaves him with the upper hand, but who knows for how long.

For someone who prides themself on being logical, he sure feels illogical as he stares at your student ID photo.

It’s one of your least flattering pictures he’s sure, but he finds himself staring at it all the same. The nuisance in his head keeps telling him frankly worrisome thoughts, but he feels no desire to act upon them… at least, the sane part of him doesn’t.

He knows there’s something special about you, and some selfish part of him doesn’t want this mentorship to end, to let you go. There’s no way of being able to guarantee ever seeing you again, so what if…

No. Irrationality has no place in his ideals, let alone in his life.

~~~

You’ve submitted your thesis and reports to him, and now you sit in front of him with your heart pounding in your chest. Is there anything scarier than the judgment of your teacher?

Your hands are laid on your lap, the key in your pocket. The coldness of it transcends the fabric of your pants, a constant reminder of the mystery it holds, and the thoughts it brings. Even now, you find your heart yearning for the sea.

You’re afraid to look at him. You’re afraid of what his expression could tell you, of the disapproval you’re expecting. You’re afraid of disappointing him once again, afraid of his rejection and the harsh words that will inevitably leave his lips. He will berate you once more, and you will be left to silently take it because truthfully, you know he’s right.

The silence continues, and you feel a sudden dizziness and the urge to throw up. You wish the sea would swallow you whole.

“I do not have enough time to finish reviewing everything today, so proper feedback will be given one week from now in person. As for the next few days, they shall continue as normal, as you are still under my tutelage. Do not forget, you still have readings to finish before tomorrow’s class.” He shuts his laptop and takes his alabaster head with him, once again leaving you to drown in the torrent of self-deprecation.

The sea embraces all, doesn’t it? It will lap up all those who dare to offer it their lives, no matter what achievements the person has made in their life, no matter if they are even a person at all. The sea… welcomes all.

(It’ll welcome you, right?)

~~~

After you left the university, you found yourself on the train to the beach. Night is upon the city, but the ocean doesn’t sleep.

People filter out of the trains one by one, until only you are left in the carriage. Announcement after announcement of stops and the sound of the train’s wheels scraping the tracks below it are the only disturbances in the otherwise peaceful silence. Despite the quietness, you cannot hear yourself. The key in your pocket feels like it is burning itself into your skin, but it is also the only thing keeping you awake, a reminder that you are still alive.

You wonder if the ocean too will eat the key, or if it will sink into its depths. Will you sink to the depths?

The train stops at its end, and your legs automatically move. You walk until you hear the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, until you are stopped by a barrier. In an act of madness (or is it desire?), you scale the wall until there is no more to scale, until you see the other side.

There is a certain beauty about the ocean that you can’t quite describe to anyone, that pictures cannot replicate. It brings you a sense of peace, like all will be right in the world. If you could just…

The jump down from the barrier is no easy task. It is a long way down, and the sand can only soften the drop so much; yet, you jump.

Something hurts, but you’re enamored by the sparkling surface of the water. It beckons you, inviting you to a new world beneath its surface, a place to be free of all worries and pains. A place to sleep peacefully, no nightmares or dreams to plague you. It offers you everything the world cannot.

You feel your bag drop off your shoulders, like a weight lifted. A hand takes the key out, holding it tightly as you walk towards the promise of a home. What mysteries will be answered by this new world?

You’d like to apologize to your parents for the disappointment that you are. You had neither the mental fortitude nor the drive to be a success, and you’d like to apologize to Dr Ratio for wasting a year’s worth of his time on an incompetent student like you. His time would have been better spent on honor students, not a mundane, average student like you. You are destined to be just another cog in the wheel, and once you rust, you will be thrown out just like everyone else has and will be.

You find yourself a step away from the water, just like in your dream. You think you see a door. The key in your hand burns hotter. The world pauses. You take a step.

The feeling of the liquid never comes, but being pulled does.

“Just what in the universe are you thinking?!” This voice… is familiar. This voice… Who is it? It can’t be Dr Ratio, no…

But those amber eyes, so familiar, it has to be…

But why? Why?

“I…” Words fail you, just like they always have. What could you possibly say to him? He must think you mad, unfit to graduate, unfit to live perhaps.

“Do you wish to be swallowed by the gaping abyss? For what? To prove the existence of Xuixzedlm? Do you think your life so worthless that you think sacrificing it for nothing is what will make it meaningful?!” He is… angry. You’ve never seen him like this. Dr Ratio doesn’t get angry. “So? Say something, anything, that could possibly help me understand why you’d attempt such an act of foolishness!”

“Why does it matter to you?!” You shout, wringing your arm free from his tight grip. He has pulled you far enough from the gentle ocean, far away from the door. You look back at it, and it remains floating above the water. The key is still in your hand.

“Are you so dull that you need to ask such a useless question?” He scoffs. He moves to grab your arm again, but you instinctively bring the hand holding the key to your chest, afraid that he would take it from you. His eyes, shades of intense amber, follow your hand and lock on to the key you hold. He frowns.

“Yes! Yes, I am! I am so utterly stupid that teaching me is a waste of time, that you should leave me alone! If… if I wasn’t here, then there’d be one less stupid person in the universe! Isn’t that what you want?” Are tears running down your face, or is the sky weeping on your behalf?

He stares at you, and his lips do not move. It goes on like this, until you are both drenched in the rain, clothes wet and only the tempting sound of the ocean, and the pitter-patter of raindrops blending into the dark waters. Moonlight briefly shines upon the both of you, and you see his face clear - there is no anger, only contemplation.

“If you have nothing more to say, then leave me alone.” You turn around and set your sights upon the floating door once more, the key still held to your heart. With a resolved mind, you once more walk towards the beckoning arms of the abyss, the promise of no tomorrow.

Dr Ratio doesn’t stop you until you are one foot in the water. There is a searing pain, but you are one step closer to the door, to a stagnancy that life could never offer you. You are one foot in the water when a familiar symbol appears on the door, like an eye staring at you. You are one foot out of the water when you realize what it is.

“You have lost your mind.” He says, pointedly. You struggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter. If anything, his hold only tightens. The pain from the water is nothing compared to the pain of losing freedom.

“Let- me- GO!” You desperately push against his chest, legs swinging. Why couldn’t he just let you go? Why did he care so much? What value do you bring to him, other than more evidence that he is far more blessed than the rest of the universe ever could be?

“Struggling will do you no good. Stay still, and I would not have to restrain you like this.” He glares at you from the corner of his eye as he brings you further away from your salvation, and the final straw is when he wrestles the key out of your hand. You’re inconsolable as he takes you past the barrier, brings you to his vehicle, and takes you to the place you can only assume is his apartment.

You let him guide you to the bath and clean your injured foot with a gentleness that is unbecoming of him, and he runs you a bath all while you grieve. Both of you say nothing as he treats you like a child, and you let him bind you to the bedpost without any struggle. To struggle is to fight, to fight is to have a desire to spread your wings; you lost that the moment he took you away.

Dr Ratio, or rather Veritas as he insists you call him, has shown you such a different side of him that you don’t know what to make of it. He holds you at night like you’re lovers, kisses you like he means it. He dutifully takes care of you, and you do not respond in kind. Despite this, he treats you all the same, with no trace of the Dr Ratio you’ve known for the last year, and only of the Veritas that you’ve met ever since that night.

You never see the key again.

~~~

One day, he has packed up everything. You briefly wonder if this meant that he’d be leaving you behind, but to your disappointment, he brings you along. He has cuffed you to himself, a reminder of the rights you have lost when you let him have his way with you.

“Veritas,” his name tastes like poison. “Where are we going?”

“The IPC has assigned me to Penacony, the land of dreams.” He responds without hesitation, turning to face you. “Naturally, you’ll be coming with me.”

You want to say no. You want him to leave you here, to give you back your key, to bring you back to the sea. The scar on your foot is a reminder of what could’ve been, what he has taken from you, and you haven’t - or rather, will never - forgive him. He will never deserve your forgiveness.

“Have… have you told my family?” You whisper, your throat as dry as the sand on the beach. Your hands fidget, and you find yourself unable to look at him; but truthfully, you don’t need to. He has ensured that every part of him has been engraved into the depths of your brain, and carved into your heart.

“…There is no point dwelling on the past. I am your family now. Clinging to such bygones will only serve to erode your mind, and limit your ability to live life.” He is firm, sounding more like the Dr Ratio you knew. He holds the hand that he has chained to his own and brings it to lips, the band of silver gleaming in the sunlight. It is a reminder. A firm, cruel, reminder of who he really is.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than an illogical, selfish, arrogant, cruel and lovesick beast who allowed his heart (if you could even call it that) to take the reins.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than a liar.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

I would love for there to be more Wonder Woman and Danny Phantom crossovers. So in the I am putting an idea out there.

-You have Pandora and Clockwork (Kronos/Cronos) who I see acting as Danny's ghost parents if not mentors. The are educating Danny (who is either the Ghost king or will become the ghost king) in history of the Infinte Realms, the politics of the Infinte Realms, teaching about all the beings (besides ghosts) that deal with the Infinte Realms (gods, demons, angels, spirits, ect.). Basically they are educating him on the ghostly sides of things.

-But they can't really help him with his human side, supernatural politics/diplomacy has a lot more fighting/violence. So they need someone to teach/mentor him on human/mortal diplomacy. Enter in Diana both Pandora and Clockwork know her and she is really the only person in the mortal realm they would trust with Danny

-Diana as a princess was raised to be a ruler and she is the ambassador of Themyscira, valuable experience to help teach Danny. Pandora and Clockwork contact Diana to ask for her help.

-Danny at this point has retired as a hero (the ghost have mostly settle down by now) and is focusing on school and his ghost king duties. I see him going to college and double majoring in Engineering and Political Science (Jazz convinced him)

-Danny probably lives with Diana and goes to school in the city she lives in to make it easier on getting lessons (maybe the DC universe is a different universe then his own).

-Diana knows about his past experience as a hero and no the Justice League has no idea what is going on. Though she does inform Clark and Bruce that she has taken on a student/ward but that he is not a hero. Bruce is suspicious but can't find anything on Danny (making him even more paranoid).

-Diana is a great Aunt figure for Danny

Both diana and Danny say the most concerning things

The JL are wondering how they thought diana was normal before danny because the shit she says is so out of pocket

The second someone asks about Danny's parents she goes feral and starts insulting the person who asked

Sometimes she's seen tinkering with something and whenever someone works up the nerve to ask he what it is she says "Fenton anti-creep stick, I'm planning to use it. On the more disrespectful of me routes"

And you can't tell me Diana wouldn't get Danny to help mess with the JL '" to test your infiltration skills" " I must be sure the security system is up to standards" " no I'm not that petty"

And Danny loves it

He causes chaos with his aunt everywhere and the paranoid furry can't do anything because aunty Diana is going to protect him

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Toshinori Yagi x F!Reader -> Mirio Togata x F!Reader

word count: 7.8k

contents: Canon divergence for final war arc and beyond, friends to lovers with history, reader has a defined quirk (magnetism) and is a support equipment safety consultant, reader is 29 and Mirio is 30, appearances from other heroes (Deku & Bakugou and they are married, in their 20's)

cw: major character death and discussions of aspects of caretaking for someone at the end of their life, discussions of loss and grief

notes: This idea could not have come to fruition without my most beloved @izvmimi and @bakvrue so thank you to them for always being the very best. I have really been having a Mirioaissance lately and as you all know I love Mr. Might so here goes. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ♡ | crossposted to ao3

“I’m dying.”

Mirio Togata nearly chokes mid-swallow, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to prevent droplets of tea from seeping out of his lips. It’s a rare Wednesday day off for Lemillion and sunlight pours into the expansive room used as an office at. He’s a guest in the home of one of the most prolific heroes of all time, as he often is, though today he was invited by the man himself instead of showing up to pop in and say hello.

All Might, Toshinori Yagi, is dying.

Technically he has been for years though hearing it from the man’s own mouth feels different than the vague conversations about ‘terminal’ and ‘incompatible organs’. 

“No,” the younger man starts but Toshinori raises a hand to stop him, shaking his head with a chuckle.

It’s no secret he has been rapidly looking more and more frail as autumn faded into winter which is now melting into the bright green of spring.

“It’s true. No matter how many times you tell me ‘you can get better’ or ‘medical technology is improving’ it will not change the fact that my time has a finite number on it.”

There has been a finite amount of his life remaining for a very long time, he’s simply managed to dodge it for as long as possible. Running away from the truth is no longer an option, the years he has been given since the War and its finish already leaving the man feeling like a perpetual cheat. He was supposed to die then, and then after that, and then again and again and again…

There are no more ducks and dodges left in him. 

“Midoriya knows and has accepted it. It’s time for you to do the same.”

The words would be harsh coming from anyone other than a beloved mentor turned friend though Yagi has always had the natural ability to soften blows when necessary. Mirio nods, blue eyes trained toward the ground and refusing to meet those of the man in the comfortable chair next to him. He dares to take a peek at the man who will forever be known as All Might, the thinness of his hands and arms and wrists alone a surprising sight. Time has run out. No medical science or quirk or act of God can reverse the inevitable. A transplant cannot save him, medicine will not save him, and he’s made the decision to be as comfortable as possible over the remaining weeks to months he has left. 

Togata’s mind unconsciously drifts to you in all of this. You are the young woman who has devoted the latter half of her twenties to taking care of this iconic man, tending to his illnesses and the complications from them with a smile and a joke, a reassuring hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his forehead. The younger of the pair has witnessed this kindness himself on more than one occasion and he remembers when you were simply a Support course student at UA high school a year younger than Mirio himself. You assisted with equipment in the war and it has followed you through your adulthood, your support item safety consulting business thriving and helping build a safer world.

The way you care about everyone is so admirable, it’s difficult not to view you as a hero in all of this. Mirio raises a brow and balls his hands together into a fist, letting it rest in his lap. 

“How does she feel about, well, everything?”

It’s a daring question to ask given the older man is well aware of the younger man’s affection toward you no matter how discreet he thinks he is about it. It’s the perpetual elephant in the room.  Toshinori sighs, shifting in his chair and positioning his hands in his lap. Mirio’s eyes dart from them and toward the older man’s sallow face, noting the hint of a smile at the mention of you. 

“She was the first person to know. It’s the least I could give her for wasting her youth on a sorry old man like me.”

Togata offers a tight smile and tilts his head to the side. The self deprecation isn’t anything new, it has been like this the last several years, though it never sits well when the man he has attempted to pattern his own morals over says something so blasphemous about himself. 

“That’s a pretty downer way to look at things, All Might.”

This gets a chuckle from the older man, the sound of his head shaking against the back of his chair causing the younger one to look up at him curiously. 

“It’s a pretty downer thing to die but telling you it’s coming isn’t the only reason I asked you here today.”

The older man clears his throat, wiping his thumb against his bottom lip and looking away, joining his hand in his lap. How can he properly phrase what he’s asking his young friend to do without it seeming sordid and disrespectful? He’s leaving you his legacy when he goes. His home, his royalties that will keep you well taken care of for the rest of your life and, well, he’s planning on leaving Mirio Togata the one gift he deserves the most - you. 

He simply lays the plot down, hands still folded in his lap.

“How long have you loved her, kid?”

Mirio feigns shock that his mentor, the one who came after the one he lost years ago, is onto him. He has always played off his affection for you as friendliness and lingering glances as simply curiosity and assumed he has been doing it well enough that nobody notices.

“It’s not like that.”

Toshinori laughs, a weak cough wracking his body and he raises his fist to his grinning mouth to cover it. Mirio leans forward in his seat, reaching for the man who waves him off and instead leans to grab the bottle of hand sanitizer on the desk next to him. 

“You are a grown man, Togata. Own up to it. It’s not going to offend me.”

There was no expectation of a trip down memory lane set for the younger man prior to arriving for this visit yet his mind launches into years of fuzzy and undefined memories. Evenings he’d come to visit you in the Support course workshop when he was younger with fewer scars covering his arms and torso, the few times in your early twenties you sat thigh to thigh with him in dimly lit izakaya hanging out with your mutual group of friends and their respective partners who are also heroes. He remembers too much and too little at the same time, skin crawling. 

Shifting in his seat, he unclasps his hands and claps them against his thighs. 

“A long, long time.” He finally responds and Toshinori chuckles in response, leaning back in his own chair and sliding one of his hands out toward Mirio. “Since I was in high school.”

The truth doesn’t hide forever. It makes him feel childish that he was so easily caught by the older man, replaying years of interactions in his head. Did he smile a little too wide at you? Glance a little too long? Pine a little too openly?

There is no way for him to change anything that has happened before now and the usually easy going man tensely lifts his head, meeting Toshinori’s soft gaze. There is no anger even if these events crossed boundaries, something the man is infinitely grateful for, and he reaches across the desk to take his mentor’s offered hand. 

“I know.” He weakly squeezes the younger man’s hand, his lack of strength more evident than ever. Mirio feels emotion welling up inside of him and blinks it back, taking a deep breath. “That’s why I am asking you to give her the life I never could, Togata. Take her traveling when you can. Remind her that she’s brilliant and will probably keep this country safer than any hero ever could. Just…be there for her. For me.”

The request carries more weight than the older man could ever possibly understand. It’s not merely a responsibility but a strange kind of bequeathing. No formal paperwork, no meetings with officials, just two men discussing a woman they both care about deeply and how to best assuage her in the sorrows to come. 

It also brings another question to Mirio’s mind he has contemplated for many years - do you have lingering feelings for him too? A far younger version of you, magnetism quirk engaged and using it to make him laugh, certainly did. He assumed those feelings just vaporized over time and with responsibility, your heart belonged to another man before he could ever ask that it be his.

A noble man. A good man who you did not want to see live lonely, by himself in his ailing years. A man Togata spent his entire life trying to emulate.

There’s a flutter of hope through the sorrow of knowing the end is coming for his friend and the younger man is the one to squeeze the older mans’ this time, gentle firm pressure to ensure it doesn’t hurt.

“I know it’s a big request. I don’t blame you if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’d like to say no,” Toshinori adds quickly. “I simply know that she cares about you a lot and always has.” His voice cracks and he swallows his sadness, only grateful that his life has been so glorious the last few years thanks to your gentle touch and your silly stories and your tendency to ad-lib songs to make him smile. “She deserves to be happy.”

The younger man couldn’t agree more. He nods, emotion continuing to rise, breaking eye contact to gaze down at his lap to allow him a moment to compose himself. For his entire twenties, he regretted losing his chance with you despite his gratefulness for the care and love you gave Toshinori. Now, entering his thirties, he gets the opportunity to try again. To speak up when he should and to put the feelings he has harbored for more than a decade to good use.

“I will do everything I can to make sure she is, you have my word.”

Even if it means you want nothing to do with him and keep yourself away from everyone forever. Whatever makes you happy, Mirio Togata will make sure you have it. 

“I only have weeks. Months if I’m lucky but I don’t think I’m all that lucky anymore.”

The words make Mirio look up from his lap, brows furrowed. He didn’t think there was so little time left but he is a man of action and nods.

“Then let’s make these next few weeks memorable. What do you need me to do?”

A chuckle from the older man as he finally drops the younger one’s hand gently, tucking it back into his lap to join the other.

“For now, just be around if you can make it work.”

That he can do and he does for three more weeks.

On a warm spring day, a little past the end of cherry blossom season, the world loses All Might.

‘The days I spent with you were the happiest of my life. Let me take care of you for the rest of yours. - Toshinori’

The note he left you, the one you were handed by some man in a suit you’d never met before in the days following his death, rests on your desk. It feels too soon to tuck away the increasingly wrinkled piece of paper and you’re far too grateful for the life he has put between your two palms to stop glancing at the note every few hours each day.

It doesn’t answer any of the questions you have about what becomes of your life now though.

Emotion wells up in you again, a lump in your throat you have to swallow down to continue working, the results from your audit of the Dynamight agency’s safety audit on the screen of the tablet in front of you. They’re generally highly rated, Bakugou’s fastidious tendencies seeping through even the smallest detail of safety and care of his employees, but you have to look away. You close the screen cover and slide the device aside, standing up from your spot at the kitchen table to walk into the living room.

The house feels like a mausoleum even if it’s now yours and yours only. Being alone for the first time in weeks leaves a strange taste in your mouth and you fold your arms over your chest, padding across the wooden floors to plop down on the overstuffed couch you picked out three years ago. Deku’s wife spent a week by your side, the first seven days after the tremendous loss ensuring you ate and slept, sleeping in your bed with you and letting you cry on her shoulder. The day she went home hurt almost as badly as the day you lost the man himself, the encroaching loneliness feeling claustrophobic.

Thankfully, the second week was dotted with various visitors, your former classmates and long time friends of Toshinori paying their respects posthumously by being good to you in his departure. Dynamight’s wife tended to you and forced you out of your house, inviting you over with the promise of visiting with her eager to see you children. 

The third week was much of the same, even chatting with his old friend David and accepting condolences from other heroes former and current. Your refrigerator stayed full, your mailbox overstuffed with more cards than you could open wishing you well and thanking you for taking care of him.

The fourth fewer people came but you still stayed busy. The fifth, same. The sixth, seventh, and eighth all followed suit although the amount of visitors thinned. Ninth, tenth, eleventh your house became empty outside of your close friends and Mirio. Now you are twelve weeks past his death and facing down a lifetime of uncertainty in a house that feels too large for you but too small for your pain.

Your heart swells recalling the love you’ve been given but it shrivels when you look around, wondering when it will start to feel full of life again; when you will.

Standing, you lumber over to the wall adjacent to where you sit, admiring the artwork and memories on the wall. There are photos of a freckle-faced teenager who became a freckle-faced man with his wife and children alongside Toshinori. Photos of Mirio grinning and giving a thumbs up in a vintage American All Might t-shirt that was almost too small for him. Photos of you and Toshinori smiling side by side when he was still well enough to attend the occasional event, you in glittering floor length sequins and him in a custom suit built to accommodate his ever weakening body. 

Sighing, you reach out and brush your thumb along the frame. The photo doesn’t move, anchored into the wall, and you know that all of the care you gave him wasn’t wasted for a moment. He truly made your life better and you believe you did the same for him, though your eyes flit back to the photo of Mirio for a moment. 

You took the picture a few years back while cleaning out the spare bedroom used solely for merchandise and collectables Toshinori had been given over the years. You accosted the younger blonde for pulling a shirt that was clearly too small for him over his head but snapped the photo anyway, grinning behind your phone at his silly posing. 

Mirio. 

He has been here for you almost as much as your closest friends, popping by daily if able with food or stories or just…sunshine, which is exactly what he is and always has been for the time you’ve known him. Even when the two of you were back in high school he knew your favorite candy and delivered it to your desk daily while spending his evenings sticking paper clips to your arm or the side of your face while your quirk was engaged.

Reaching into your pocket, you grab out your phone and dial his number. He answers before the first ring can even finish its trill.

“Hey-o, what are you doing?”

You giggle at his greeting though he hears the strain in your voice that indicates you are feeling down. He tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling his sweatpants on in the changing room of the agency, ready to head home. 

“Nothing. I tried to work a little bit today and couldn’t focus. I’m sure Bakugou will bitch at me but his audit will simply have to wait another week.”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckles, rising to his full impressive stature and heading toward the exit.

“Do you need a distraction? I could come over.”

The offer is appreciated but you wrestle with how to respond to it. What you assumed were long forgotten feelings for Mirio surface every time you are around him and in your grief and confusion, you struggle to separate them from reality and what’s a balm to make you feel temporarily better. Would seeing him now, only three months removed from losing Toshinori, be appropriate? Is it what’s best?

“You don’t have to, I’m sure it was a long day.”

Togata scoffs, using his coded keycard to exit the building. The sun is still somewhat up, a hot summer evening encroaching and he does not want to go home when he could be spending time with you. The day exhausted him a bit, lots of petty crime picks up during the summertime, but he’s never too tired for you.

“Actually, this was the easiest shift I’ve had in a long time.” He’s lying and you can tell by the lilt in his voice, a particular tone he takes when he’s pretending everything is fine you’ve heard before but you are in no condition to press the issue. “I can pick you up in about thirty minutes and we can just drive if you want?”

You shake your head although he can’t see it. Part of you wants to say no, to rebuff your own feelings once and for all, but you’re weak and hurting and needy. 

“We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just stay here if you want to come.”

And come he does, in that promised thirty minutes. He doesn’t bother to knock on the door anymore, punching in the code and announcing himself with a boisterous smile, then plopping down on the couch next to you.

It feels a lot more like coming home than it reasonably should but every time he feels guilty for envisioning his place in his life, next to you, he remembers the promise he made. He will make you happy no matter what that looks like.

Time passes so quickly when he’s around and it’s welcome to have something besides your own loneliness to listen to while he explains one of his heroic saves of the day, enthusiastically explaining phasing through a tree to capture a runaway attempted bank robber.

“So I caught the guy and somehow managed to save all the money too, which is crazy when you think about it. I thought the wind would carry half of it off but not today.”

You smile at him fondly, eyes crinkling at the corners, but he can tell something else is on your mind. Repositioning himself on the couch, he turns toward you and props his head up with his fist.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He has always been able to tell when something is bothering you and your brain screams that you should say no. You should turn down all of Mirio’s kindness and lock yourself inside of this home with your grief forever, a timeless pseudo-widow trapped in a prison of her own making.

But the warmth of his gaze encourages you so much, words bubble out of you before you can stop them, your hands instantly flying to your face to be pressed against your cheeks.

“Despite what people have said, I loved him.” 

Mirio’s face falls into a concerned frown when he notices your eyes welling up, your glance firmly trained on his face. The papers were pretty harsh to you when the news of his death and your subsequent appointing the heir to his agency, legacy, and image were announced. Opportunistic seemed to be the media’s favorite term, honing in on the age and vitality difference between the two of you rather than the fact a fairly selfless young woman took care of him not knowing any of this was in her future.

You never took care of him in hopes of getting anything, only out of compassion for a man who has made the lives of others so much brighter. Who heals the healer? You took it upon yourself to be the one and you do not regret a moment of it, sitting cross legged at twenty-nine with a sense of pride despite it all.

“Maybe not in a conventional way. I never had,” your face falls a little, as though you’re fearful of reaction toward what you’re about to say. “You know…sex or anything with him. We kissed a few times, we held hands on occasion but my days and nights revolved around him for five years.”

Your voice breaks and immediately you push your thumbs against your eyes to keep yourself from crying where someone else can see it although the sniffling gives you away, sharp little inhalations through your nose. 

“What do I do now?”

The question appears to be rhetorical though he feels compelled to answer, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulders and gently pulling you against his side. The lack of personal space between the two of you is honestly nothing new, certainly more so since Toshinori’s departure, and you settle into the warmth of him. It’s a comfort you need desperately, his fingers drumming a little beat of four into your shoulder.

“Whatever you want.” 

You remove your thumbs from over your eyes, sensitive and red rimmed as they are, glancing at the man next to you carefully. The brightness of your living room causes you to squint and he reaches his free hand to wipe tears from your bottom lashes, his crooked index finger pressing delicately against your skin.

“I know that sounds callous and it probably is the wrong thing to say but your life isn’t over just because he isn’t here to watch you live it.” Now it’s Mirio’s voice that cracks and he clears his throat, hand flexing against where it rests on your upper arm. “He left you the tools to live however you want. You have a successful business, you are young and beautiful and…”

He trails off and you blink at him silently. The true feelings he has tried so desperately to hide for the years he has known you are seeping out of him. How much longer can he possibly hold it in before the pressure starts to cause cracks? Before it spills out of him wildly, an ode to you from a boy who has loved you since seventeen?

You stop him from spiraling, opening your mouth to speak while tears escape over his finger and roll down your face.

“I think I’m scared, Mirio.” 

This is the first time you’ve admitted it, even to yourself. An undefined future is a terrifying prospect and while Toshinori was here, you were guaranteed to always have him. Scheduled pills and injections, showers and quality of life activities. Even your work is unstructured outside of your scheduled annual audits, only being called upon when you are needed. 

He holds you against him, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead. This could be just what you need and although he worries about pushing boundaries, you prove his worries wrong by snuggling further into his side. Your tears drip onto the cotton of his t-shirt and he uses his second hand to begin wiping them away, shushing you gently and affectionately.

“It’s okay to be afraid, he wouldn’t judge you for that, but don’t let it make you waste the opportunity to live exactly how you want.” His words are comforting and you nod against his chest, sniffling. “There is no right or wrong way to handle this.”

This is the first time anyone has told you that it’s okay to not know what to do right now. Not that you’ve ever asked, too fearful of making missteps to try and prevent them at all. You need reassurance and although you’ve been given it, it’s hard not to seek it from a man you’ve found so much comfort in over the past few months. He has been vulnerable with you, it seems only right to do the same for him in return. 

Sighing, you unbury your face from his chest. “Do you think I’m doing okay?”

There is a version of you, more than a decade younger than you are now, that lives in Mirio’s mind and he sees her in the way you look up at him with uncertain eyes. It strikes him how long the two of you have known each other; how long he has been dancing around his feelings for you. He nods, removing his arm from your shoulder to cup your cheeks in his palms.

The urge to kiss away those tears is strong but he talks himself down, tilting your head until your gazes fully meet. All of the love he has kept to himself for a decade further threatens to spill out. He stops himself, self restraint a requirement of being a hero after all, and his thumbs gently stroke the rose petal soft skin beneath them.

“You’re doing better with all of this than anyone else ever could.”

There are no words he has ever meant more than these besides the ones he decides to keep to himself, saving the oft considered ‘I love you’ for another day. 

“Thank you. For everything. I kind of worry I’m asking too much from you,” you rush to apologize and he keeps his grip on your face gentle but firm. 

“You can ask me for anything you need.”

He means it more than he meant his promise to the last man that loved you.

“Alright, I think we’ve had as much fun as we are going to have. Babysitters get paid hourly, you know.”

Katsuki wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her close to him beneath the same lights the six of you used to drink under a long time ago while saying his goodbye. He has never been much of a drinker and hasn’t indulged even a bit tonight but his wife’s relaxed expression gives away how many beers she’s had and you giggle at her, squeezing her hand as she walks by on their way out.

“Be careful you two,” you call after them, Mirio turning to look at you while you glance over your shoulder. Only Midoriya and his wife remain seated across from you two, snuggled in the corner of their side of the booth. Deku’s ever lovely better half raises a brow and nudges her husband in the ribs gently, subtly motioning toward where the pair of you sit.

This is the first night you’ve really enjoyed yourself in the six months since you’ve lost Toshinori. It has been a great walk down a memory lane you haven’t bothered to explore in a long time.

“Gosh, he’s so grumpy,” you laugh to yourself and Mirio giggles beside you, looking as smitten as he always does. Izuku notices it and looks down at his wife, the two of them communicating wordlessly by the time you glance at them. “I’m guessing you two are next to head home?” You tease, your own brain slightly hazy from the few beers you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in. 

A little voice in the back of your head made you fear showing your face in public, especially after the scrutiny that came so few months ago, but nobody has taken a second glance at your group of friends despite all of the men in the group landing in the top five of the Hero standings. It appears whatever backlash was sparked has faded quickly. You make a note to thank the classmates you had that now work in the media who were likely behind it, hoping you remember it later.

You haven’t just had a good time tonight, you’ve had a great one. Smiling gratefully, you look over at your two remaining friends.

“Like Kacchan said, babysitters are paid hourly,” Deku raises his brows and shrugs. His wife kisses his cheek, beginning to slide out of the booth while he holds onto her hand and follows.

Mirio nods at Izuku and smiles at his wife, having known the two of them since high school as well, the same story with the now gone Bakugou’s.

“Get that beautiful wife of yours home safe, Deku.” He jokes with a chuckle and his friend laughs in response, reaching across the table to pat his shoulder and then yours. 

It’s hard for him to believe how much has changed over these years but how much has remained the same simultaneously. His close friends married their high school sweethearts and settled into their family life, kids and recitals and dinner parties. A piece of him has wondered for years if that could have been the two of you as well if he’d left less up to chance as a young man.

Does it do any good to wonder? Mirio doesn’t know yet he does often, tonight especially.

“You ready to go?”

A little lost in your own world, you look up at him with your eyebrows raised and nod slowly. He looks so handsome, even in this poorly lit room, and heat rises in your face straight to the tips of your ears. It has been a long time since you’ve felt that particular heat, the kind that makes your stomach flip flop.

Would it be wrong of you to ask him if he wants to hang out with you for a little while longer? You don’t have ill intentions in wanting to spend time with him, at least that’s what you tell yourself, and the few beers have made you feel brave.

“Do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? We can just go back to the house or find somewhere else or…” you trail off slightly, a little self conscious. Do you seem desperate? Lonely? Annoying? “If you don’t want to though, I understand.” 

Finishing your question hurriedly, you glance up at Mirio who looks at you with that same earnest stare he has given you for years. There are depths in those pretty blue eyes, humor and pain that he has experienced and joy and so much. There is simply so much more to this man than most people know and unexpectedly, it isn’t just your face that feels too hot, it’s the entire room.

“Of course I do. Let me just take you home and we can hang out there, that way I’m not keeping a lady out too late.”

He knows he’s taking a risk by being outright flirtatious with you after months of trying to keep it subtle. He is but a man and knows that look, though. That ‘through the lashes, lips slightly parted, beautiful woman who wants to spend time with you’ look. He’d be a fool to say no, even if you two do nothing but talk for hours. There’s nothing else he’d rather do with the remnants of his night anyway.

“After you,” he offers with a bright grin. The few beers he has had make his cheeks pink and you want to reach out and touch them but refrain, uncertain of how to do all of this correctly. You’ve never really dated, outside of a few hookups in your early twenties, so this is truly foreign territory. It’s a lot to wrestle with the guilt of moving on, something you have reluctantly admitted to yourself it seems you’re doing, and the weight of grief on your shoulders at all times. 

When does it ever get better or at the very least, when does it become less of a struggle?

Saving those questions for another, less fun evening you slide out of the booth and he follows after, placing his hand against your back to walk you out of the bar. It feels natural, his fingers splayed across your spine and heat once again blooms. It’s embarrassing to feel so excited by sheer touch.

Your relationship with Toshinori was never sexual. Always a companion more so than a lover despite the deep love that bloomed between the two of you, you spent a lot of nights in a different bed exploring your own body while he slept in his own room down the hall. This was always the arrangement, comfortable for both of you. He was physically incapable of having sex and you never wanted to make him feel like less because of it, still complimenting his appearance and doing your best to make him feel attractive. Which he was, even until the end that smile and those jovial blue eyes had the ability to light up a room.

It’s just different with Mirio. This isn’t the first time that heat has bloomed beneath your belly button, begging you to follow it all the way down a rabbit hole you aren’t quite sure you are ready for and the alcohol is making it worse tonight. If he can tell, he’s being a gentleman about it, something to be grateful about.

The two of you stand in the now cool autumn night air, the city still noisy outside. The breeze chills your warm cheeks and you look up at him to find him glancing down at you, wearing an expression that tells him some of the same things on your mind are on his.

“What are you thinking about?”

The question is laced with humor, as most of what the man says tends to be, and you feel caught with your pants down. Playing it off with a giggle, you decide to push back; to make him feel like he’s the one being surveyed instead. 

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we were in high school?”

The topic of first kisses came up tonight, your friends reminiscing about how they’ve shared their first everything together throughout the years, and you recall yours being lackluster. Some guy you went to college with named Dai who slobbered all over your face your first year.

Certainly not who you would’ve preferred sharing a kiss with.

Your question has caught Mirio off guard and he rubs his neck, scrunching his nose and refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is that he was simply too afraid to make a move and by the time he was able to, it felt improper given the conflict and all that happened.

It was hardly a time for making a move on the girl you had a crush on and the two of you just went your separate ways after that. He became a Pro Hero, working his way up into the top 15 within his first year and then the top 10 the next and only climbing from there, you went to college to pursue your public safety certification. By the time you were able to reconnect in your early twenties, your lives had diverged so wildly it no longer felt appropriate to, well, go after you.

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “I think I was afraid you didn’t like me back.” Snorting, you attempt to stifle your laughter. He glances down at you, tilting his head, feigning offense.

“Really? I’m being honest with you and you’re going to laugh at me?”

Wrapping your arm around his bicep, you attempt damage control by resting your head against him. A breathy sigh leaves you and you glance upward to catch him staring down at you once again.

“I had such a crush on you that even Hatsume gave me shit about it.” You speak through your nose, attempting the now most sought after equipment outfitter in all of Japan's higher voice and inflection. “Where’s your little boyfriend, magnet girl?”

The two of you devolve into a fit of childish giggles, not unlike the ones you shared back then, and without warning he leans in close to you. You still cling to his bicep but he’s bent at the waist, lips inches from yours, one of his hands reaching to rest against the side of your neck.

“Can I make up for it now?”

Ocean eyes search yours, pleading for an answer. All of that heat courses through your body at once and without putting too much thought into any real consequence, you nod. Just a kiss won’t hurt either of you, for old time’s sake regardless of what may or may not be blooming here. Mirio closes the distance between the two of you and gently brushes his lips against yours, gentlemanly and chivalrous even in the throes his tremendous need to touch and feel and be close to you, and you whimper when he pulls away sooner than you liked.

“Was that okay?”

Giggling, you lean in and kiss him again to give him his reply. It was more than okay, it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, a sharp comparison to the well kept and bulky rest of him that you have had to stop yourself from eyeing hungrily on more than one occasion. His mouth tastes like salt and beer and love.

Pure love lives on his tongue that is working its way into your mouth while he hurriedly backs you two into a narrow alleyway between the bar you just left and the building next to it. His knee rests between your barely parted legs and your hands reach for anything they can grab, forearms and biceps and his shoulders and chest. You touch recklessly, one hand sliding up the side of his neck to cup his jaw and the other rubbing circles just beneath the hem of his shirt, above his belt buckle.

“Hey,” he stops you unexpectedly to catch his breath, chest heaving while he glances down at you. “I want to keep this going but I have to tell you first that I love you.”

There it is. The thing he has been keeping to himself for twelve long, torturous years. Mirio loves you so fiercely he wonders how he’s managed to even breathe the last 12 years without you by his side, your laughter and light filling his days and nights no matter how they go. 

How could he ever live without you again? He isn’t sure that he could.

Blinking up at him, you slide your hand further up his face and tousle his blonde hair between your fingers. 

“I don’t care if it’s too soon for you to say it back or if you ever will but I love you. I have for such a long time it hurts to keep it to myself any longer.”

The smile on your face turns into a full blown grin, fingers still snaked in his hair. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe lust is winning the battle between your wits and your heart or maybe this is a chance to say something you’ve felt for longer than you realized. 

“I love you too, Mirio.”

It doesn’t make your love for Toshinori any less real to admit you love the man who has been by your side for virtually 24 hours a day for the last six months and long before that too. 

He leans back in and kisses you again, silencing any thoughts other than the two of you and it leaves you breathless, gently grinding against his jean clad thigh and sucking on his tongue. Another pause and he pulls away, cupping your face. 

“Take me home with you.”

It isn’t a plea of desperation but one of pure unadulterated need. He needs you, any way you’ll let him have you, tonight. 

Nodding, you close the distance and press your lips against his.

“Let’s go.”

In all the time that has passed since you lost Toshinori, your home feels a little brighter when you arise in it each day. 

It feels like somewhere you can build your own life now instead of living trapped inside the memory of his. You were concerned that changing anything about this place would rob you of the comfort of having once loved the man who left it to your care but you know he wouldn’t want you to stand in one place for long. All those months ago, Mirio was right when he told you that Toshinori would want you to make the best of what you’ve been given.

Move forward, he’d assure you if he were still here. Be yourself and find happiness.

Despite all the ways you’re still healing, you have. 

You think about him every day. You will forever, regardless of the nature of your relationship and how other people view it. Some days the memory of him cuts through you like a knife, especially the last year of your life with him spent doing a lot more caretaking than you’d done the prior four, and other days it’s a gentle breeze. A whisper and reminder that he’s watching you, he loves you, he’s proud of you.

You’ve done the All Might legacy well, donating a large chunk of his fortune back to the communities he so committedly served. Scholarships for students who want to go to hero academies but may not have the pedigree or wealth to let them in, rebuilding the last remnants of an over decade old war that still scar areas of Musutafu tourists don’t visit. 

The dreams you have yet to fulfill with what you’ve been provided make your future seem more full than ever. Hospitals bearing his name, education about the balance of hero life and personal life, safety equipment becoming better than ever. Your ambitions are big and you will make them all come true, a vow you made to him on the day he died even if he wasn’t cognizant enough to understand what you were saying.

This is all for him, dearly departed, a man you cared so deeply about you would’ve taken care of him for ten more years if you had to. You’re grateful it didn’t come to that if only for his sake, the suffering his ailing body was facing more than you like to think about even today, but all things considered it was a good life. 

Even the papers have commended the woman they once referred to as an amoral opportunist. 

Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.

And today when your feet hit the ground, the sun rises and fills the room with light through the gauzy curtains you put up a few months back. The cat you recently adopted twines himself around your legs and looks up at you expectantly, breakfast already a few minutes late. You couldn’t go long without having something new to take care of, the cat was once a beat up little thing brought to you by Lemillion himself one evening after a shift that has grown into a demanding beast.

“Saving little lost cats is a bit cliche, isn’t it?” You joked when he unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and produced the fuzzy, green eyed lump that mewed at you the moment he saw you. Mirio grinned and half shrugged. “Yeah but I’m good at it, right?”

Good he is, you think looking over at his still sleeping form in your bed. 

For some, it may be too soon to cautiously lend your heart to another man. You love Toshinori and always will, the impact he left on your life is profound in ways you’ll discover for years to come, but a part of you has always loved Mirio even if circumstances prevented the pair of you from being together. He was once a silly teenager who was too afraid to ask you to be his girlfriend when he graduated high school, satisfied to leave things up to fate, and now he is a grown man who has been by your side through the most painful loss of your life so far, holding you together on the days when you were worried you would crumble.

Both of you are grateful that fate decided well although she took her time and brought a lot of pain on her way.

Instead of getting out of bed, you lean down and pick up your now purring cat and slide back into bed beside him, his hands instinctively reaching behind him for your thighs to pull you closer. 

“I didn’t think you were awake,” you whisper and he chuckles, scarred hand running up the expanse of your thigh while your cat climbs onto his shoulder and licks his face. There’s no use in trying to carefully swat the creature away so he lets him settle onto the pillow above his head. 

“I always notice when you get up and I have to fight the urge to follow you.”

Giggling, you wrap yourself around his back and rest your cheek between his bare shoulder blades.

“Why’s that?”

He finally turns to face you, blue eyes glancing down at the thing he has wanted for years. Your unmade, half awake face. The domesticity of your cat purring above both of your heads. The promise of packing to take a week off from heroics to go and enjoy a far off destination neither of you have been together.

“In case I ever lose you again,” he admits vulnerably and you smile up at him, hand reaching to cup his cheek.

The half awake mumblings have more truth to them then you could possibly imagine, fear that something else will hurt you or pull you away from him. Fear that he’s going to waste his time again, precious days he has always wanted to spend with you meaning nothing because he’s too cowardly to fight for what he wants. Maybe a younger version of Mirio Togata would have let this happen but not this one, older and wiser that he is. 

The ring he plans on proposing to you with this week is nestled in his suitcase, buried beneath too many pairs of socks and probably too few pairs of boxers. He won’t even mind a long engagement, if you need one, as long as he knows forever with you is what waits on the other side.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I think we’re stuck together for life after all we’ve been through.”

As he promised his mentor a few months over a year ago, he will ensure that you are.

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, masterbation (m & f), p in v (alluded to), Dark!Coriolanus, Young Politician!Coriolanus, Secretary!Reader

This one got away from me so it's a bit long. Whoops...

You're at your desk, logging into your computer to start the day whenever the door to the office opens and in walks your boss. Senator Coriolanus Snow. One of the youngest Head Gamemakers and Senators in the history of Panem. He's only 24 years old and he's already so successful.

Crazy, right?

Your older brother was in the same graduating class as him at the Academy. Rein was a slacker that wasn't in the top 24 while Coryo- uh Coriolanus- was the top student, won the Plinth prize, and even did a short stint as a Peacekeeper to serve the greater good of the country (like his father General Crassus Snow did before him) before attending the University as a double major in Political Science and Military Strategies. Oh and while attending the University he interned under Dr. Gaul, became an Assistant Gamemaker, and even became the Head Gamemaker himself when Dr. Gaul died in a tragic lab accident involving her mutts.

And he did all of that by age 20.

Age 20!

After graduating from the Academy, Rein was shoved into the Peacekeepers by your father, retired Colonel Javanis Halvir. Your brother was sent to 8 and he complained in all of his letters about it. Once he was eligible to take the Officer's Aptitude Exam, your father had ordered him to sign up. So, Rein took the test and became an officer. He got assigned to PK Base D-12.

And that's what your older brother accomplished by 20. Oh and he also knocked up a local barmaid from the Hobb, causing your father to have a stroke. Your mother found it very comical.

And then both of your parents told you that you needed to redeem the family name, blah blah blah, and pushed you to be the top student in the Academy. So, of course you ended up in the top 24. And you mentored a tribute, a 17 year old boy from 7, that won. He was very proficient with an ax. You didn't have to do too much mentoring, he basically just hacked everybody to bits…

But you still won the Plinth Prize anyways. And during the ceremony for the prize, instead of Strabo Plinth handing you over the Plinth Prize it was his heir instead.

Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.

After handing you the prize he had asked you to have a glass of posca with him, causing your mother to glare angrily at the interaction. Your father on the other hand was ecstatic that Coryo-uh Coriolanus- wanted to talk to you. He served under General Snow in 12; thought that Coriolanus was a man cut from the same cloth as his father.

Anyways, once you and Coriolanus Snow got to talking he admitted that he was going into politics and would need a personal secretary; an assistant per say to help him with his day to day tasks such as scheduling meetings, etc. and much to your surprise, he offered you the job.

That was a couple of years ago.

So, yes, that's how you got your job. And you really liked your job. It wasn't that hard to do plus it made you feel important that such an accomplished and powerful man trusted you to manage his life.

If you only knew that Coriolanus, who's been insisting that you call him Coryo for roughly a year now, has been lusting after you since he saw you in a cute dress that hugged your body just right when he presented you the Plinth Prize 2 years ago. Also, your boss is a dark soul. A cold man. But he does have a soft spot for you.

And only for you.

Which is why he greets you with a wide, manic smile that makes the corners of his baby blues crinkle. “Good morning, Y/N.” The platinum blonde senator says while crossing the room, heading to your desk.

“Good morning, Senator Snow.” You politely smile, pulling up the excel document in order to print out the day's schedule for your boss. And talk about your boss, he's holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a tray of coffee along with a pastry bag in the other as he stops at your desk.

Coriolanus sets everything down, only to grab the vase on the corner of your desk and bring it over to the trash. All the while saying, “I brought you some fresh roses, courtesy of Grandma’am’s rooftop garden, to replace the wilted ones on your desk.”

The blonde politician did that every Monday for you. He brought fresh flowers for your office vase. A vase he gifted you for your one year work anniversary last year.

Dumping the contents of the vase out in the trash can, Coriolanus gestured to the coffees and brown paper bag on your desk, only to explain, “The barista at the coffee shop got my order wrong, so I had to do a second order, but since I already paid for the wrong order I figured I'd give it to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Coriolanus, Sir.” You simply smiled, grateful for the free coffee. You were going to put a pot on in the break room as soon as you printed out Snow's schedule, but getting an unexpected cup of coffee’s always nice.

Perhaps you'll pay it forward and treat him to coffee tomorrow. The gods know that you have his coffee order memorized.

It's black, just like his soul, with a couple of sugar packets. Not Splenda, not Sweet ‘n’ Low, not Truvia, but real sugar made from sugar cane grown down in 11. Oh and he always has a chocolate filled croissant too.

You also know his afternoon tea order by heart along with his dinner orders from a handful of takeout places he prefers. Hell, you even know his liquor order for after hours meetings. But it's your duty to know those things since, after all, you're his personal secretary.

Literally his right hand woman.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to, please, call me Coryo.” Your boss shook his head at you while bringing the empty vase to the nearby bathroom to fill up with water.

It must've been at least a hundred times by now, maybe more. But it felt weird to you calling your boss such a personal sounding nickname. You're both professional adults, if you call him by his name it should be Coriolanus. If not then you'll just refer to him as his title, since he's your boss.

“You know I can't call you Coryo, Coriolanus. It's not proper; you're my boss.” You remind the senator, who's dressed to the nines today in a perfectly tailored three piece black suit- complete with a white dress shirt and striped tie, as he walks out of the bathroom and back into your foyer office with the filled up vase in hand.

A vase that looked dwarfed by his large grip. “We've known each other for a couple of years now, darling. I'd like to think of us as being on friendly terms, wouldn't you?” Coriolanus asked, placing the vase down on your desk and arranging the flowers in them for you.

You clicked the print button on your computer, only to swivel your chair around to reach the ink jet printer behind you. “Yes, we're friendly, but you're still my boss.”

“And as your boss I'm now ordering you to call me Coryo.” He told you, pulling out the coffee that was yours, due to error, and setting it on your desk while you watched the printer spit out the paper with his daily schedule on it.

“Fine, I'll call you Coryo.” You gave in, grabbing the paper and swiveling back around to face your him.

“I got two croissants since I had to get my order remade, so it looks like you'll be getting one this morning, darling.” Coryo told you, opening up the paper bag and pulling out a pastry. He grabbed a napkin that was stuffed into the drink carrier and put it on your desk, next to your coffee, before depositing your croissant on it.

“Thank you.” You simply smile. Handing him over his schedule, you announce, “Here's your schedule for today.”

The platinum blonde gives you a closed lip smile and nods before stretching his hand out for the paper. “You've got a dinner meeting tonight at 7 o’clock sharp with a political sponsor.” You reminded him, your fingertips brushing, while he grabs the outstretched paper from you.

Briefly glancing over the paper in his hand, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”

“What?”

“Dinner at 7 o’clock sharp. Would you like to go with me?”

Shaking your head, you politely decline his offer. “Oh no, I'm sorry, Coryo, Sir, but I can't go.”

“Why not? Got a boyfriend or something occupying your time?” The senator sharply asks, his baritone heavy with a tingle of jealousy.

Coriolanus prayed to every God he never believed in that you're single. If not, well he's going to go whack some unlucky bastard to free you up to be his girl. He's decided that he's tired of pinning over you; stalking you.

Coryo's ready to take things to the next level. He's ready to fucking corrupt you; make you his forever. He's going to be announcing his bid for the presidential runoff, the first step in becoming one of two candidates to face off for the presidency, and it's time for him to get into a relationship.

A public relationship.

And you're perfect for that. Coriolanus knows, without a doubt, that you'll make a perfect First Lady. That your beauty and slight innocence will be the perfect contrast to his cold, stoic, but regal stature. That you're a perfect fit for him.

Plus he's getting tired of paying for whores. Whores that he has to keep disposing of so that they can't blackmail him about his sexual appetite. Coriolanus prides himself of being from one of the founding families of Panem, from the Old Guard. He even runs on the Old Guard ticket; he can't have some disgruntled whore tarnishing his reputation.

It'd be much cheaper and easier to just get you into bed; fuck you in all the ways that he likes.

But he also has a soft spot for you. Coryo likes you. Okay, that's a lie. He's obsessed with you in such a dark, sick way that if he sees a man smile at you or get too close to you then he's killing that man. Yea, Senator Snow’s in love with you, or at least in his head he's in love with you.

It's more like an obsession.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't have a boyfriend.” Well, you had an on-again, off-again thing going on with your neighbor across the hall from you, but since it's currently off Coryo doesn't need to know about that.

Coriolanus swore that he heard the heavens singing hymns upon hearing that you're single. Yes, now’s the perfect time for him to make you his.

“Then I'll have my driver pick you up for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

Once again, you decline him invitation. “You're my boss, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you tonight.”

Usually Coriolanus appreciates your professionalism and dedication to your job, but right now he loathes it. Why can't you just accept that he's taking you to his dinner meeting tonight. That he's showing you off on his arm for the entire Capitol to see.

Leaning against your desk, he gives you a piercing look with his icy eyes and tells you, “It's a very important business dinner with a political sponsor, Y/N, and you're my assistant.” A calculating look crosses the politician's face as he adds in, “It's actually, you might say, very vital that you attend dinner with me tonight.”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

“Okay, I'll go to dinner with you tonight.” You relent, causing a smug grin to appear on Coryo's face.

“Good.” Coryo grins, making his face light up like sunshine, as he grabs his coffee and pastry bag. “Since dinner's at 7, I'll have my driver pick you up at 6:45. That'll leave a 15 minute window to get to the restaurant.” The platinum blonde told you the plan before pivoting on his heel and striding over to his office. Pausing at his door, with his large hand hovering over the knob, he looked over his shoulder and told you, “Wear either a red or black dress, but preferably red.”, before opening up the door and disappearing inside of his office.

Oh, how did you get into this mess?

Coriolanus sat at his mahogany desk, going over documents for various bills that he could either sponsor or just straight up deny. Honestly, most of the shit that got dumped on his desk he denied. If it didn't pertain to the Capitol and the Capitolites then he just shoved the document in his shredder and made a note to vote no, well in the Senate it was ‘nah’, on it.

And Senator Snow was notorious for voting nah on everything.

As he sat in his office going over mindless matters, he couldn't help but wonder about what you'd look like all dolled up for dinner tonight. He knew that you had a few nice cocktail dresses to pick from, but the mystery of whether you'd listen to him and wear something black or preferably red versus another color altogether made his head spin a mile a minute. He hopes that you're a good little secretary and listen to him about the dress.

But what he really can't help fantasizing about is what you'll be wearing underneath your dress. He can't help picturing you in a bra and panty set that hugs your body in the right ways. The senator's daydreaming about delicate lace molded against your most private parts, that are hidden away only for your lover to see.

And just thinking about becoming your lover, stripping you out of not just your dress, but your soft, delicate lingerie has his pants growing tighter. So tight, in fact, that it was downright uncomfortable.

Letting out a barely audible groan, the platinum blonde stood up from his desk and went over to his door. For just a moment, he leaned his forehead against it and debated on whether or not to call you into his office; have you on your knees underneath his desk for him. But then he decided against it; locked his door instead and went over to his desk chair to take care of himself.

You're not some district whore, you deserve to be properly wined and dined first before he has you on your knees for him- choking on his cock with tears and mascara messily running down your cheeks.

Oh, just the thought of you with your pretty mouth around his large cock had said cock twitching in his pants.

Quickly, Coriolanus makes his way over to the small sofa that's in the corner of his office. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, only to tug his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free before sitting on the sofa. Spitting in his hand, he leans back into the sofa and wraps his large hand around his cock.

He feels his dick throbbing angrily in his cold hand while sliding his thumb over his tip’s leaky slit. The platinum blonde bites back a moan, and closes his eyes- pretending that it's your hand wrapped around his shaft and your thumb teasing his cockhead. Fuck, how he craves your touch. Using his thumb to spread precum over his tip and down the length of his dick, he started to move his fist up and down in measured glides.

Coriolanus knows he should just rub one out as quick as possible since he's at work, but the fact that you- the object of all his fantasies- is right outside won't let him. Being in such close proximity to you feeds his fantasies and he has to have a proper handjob session.

Coriolanus has to indulge in the make believe notion that you're the one pumping his cock up and down, twisting your wrist slightly every now and then. That it's you playing with his cum heavy balls, making his toes curl in his socks and black floor shines, as the fist around his cock starts to slightly pick up pace.

Gods, he's getting lost in his fantasy of you pleasuring him with your hands, hell even your mouth- that he's sure will be aching from his cock unhinging your jaw when you suck him off- that the loud ringing of his office phone startles him.

“Goddamnit! Can't I fuck my fist in peace?” Coriolanus grumbled.

He's angry that his fantasy was broken; that he has to fist his cock faster than he wanted to.

The phone continued to ring off the hook as he furiously moved his hand up and down his dick. He bit his lip and bucked his hips, spurting his cum into his left hand. The one that he was using on his balls before the damn phone started ringing like crazy.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the side table next to him and wiped off his hand. Standing up to right his boxer briefs and pants, he heard your heels echo down the hall. Great, just great, now you're on your way to his office because the phone’s ringing off the hook.

Quickly, Coriolanus tosses the tissues into the wastebin. Rushing to his desk, he grabs the phone, only to slam it down. Hard.

Hey, he made the excessive ringing stop. Whoever called should just stick to the after 3 rings, hang up and try again later rule. Coriolanus has more important things to do than listen to a phone ring endlessly.

More important things: like jacking off to daydreams and fantasies about his secretary.

His secretary that's knocking on his door and asking him if he's alright.

“I'm fine, my darling.” Coriolanus called out to you while crossing his office. He unlocked his door and opened it, only to give you a manipulative smile while feeding you the bullshit lie of, “I just zoned out reading a grant proposal and didn't realize the phone was ringing.”

“Are you sure you're alright?” You asked, only to follow it up with the offer of, “I can always read some of those grant proposals and take notes on them for you, if you want. That way you won't get so bored to death reading them that you miss important phone calls.”

“You'd do that, for me?” Coriolanus asked, feeling a bit touched by your offer. Oh, how he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.

A perfect angel sent to him from the Lord above. And he's your golden angel too.

Lucifer, that is.

“Of course, Coryo. It's my job to help you with paperwork.”

And before another word could be shared between you two, his phone started ringing. Again.

“Oh, I'll leave you to your call. Just put whatever you want me to read for you on my desk later.”

“I will, darling.” Coriolanus smiles at you, watching you walk away before closing his door.

Storming over to his phone, he sees that the video option light is blinking. Sitting down, he answered the phone and pressed the button to turn on his video call screen. As soon as the face of the half-assed idiot that was one of the Junior Gamemakers appeared on the screen he immediately felt a migraine coming on.

“Senator Snow, are you neglecting Head Gamemaker duties in favor of politics? You never answered my call.” The redhead man with a bad combover had the audacity to tell his boss via the phone screen.

Poor soul must not value his life…

“There’s 3 fucking months before the games, that I'm designing, so there's no damn reason for you to call me and let the phone ring off the hook. Are you incompetent? If you had the common sense that God gave a mule the. You'd know I was busy with other matters and couldn't answer your ridiculous call.” Coriolanus seethed in a long winded rant. His veins were protruding from his pale neck; a red vein was angrily popping in his forehead too. But it was his eyes that held so much hate in their icy orbs.

The man on the phone screen, despite being a few years older then Senator Snow, was a complete incompetent idiot in Coriolanus' opinion. Age certainly didn't make him any wiser.

“I'm a very busy man; next time you pester me I'll have you thrown into a tank full of rabid mutts.” Coriolanus promised the Junior Gamemaker before hanging up, hard, on him.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps into his overstuffed leather office chair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples and tries to calm down by daydreaming about dinner with you tonight.

Your day went on as it usually does. You took calls and made appointments for Senator Snow. You also read and typed up some cliff notes for a few bills that Coryo left for you before he took off for lunch. He didn't say where he was going and you didn't ask.

When he came back from a power lunch, you knew he went somewhere for drinks cause you could smell a hint of whiskey radiating from his pores, he greeted you with a simple thin lipped smile and placed a container of food on your desk. He didn't tell you to take your lunch break, but the way he wordlessly moved his baby blues between you and the doggie bag he just dumped on your desk was more than enough to give you a hint that he wanted you to eat. So, you simply thanked him, before handing him some notes and taking the food he got you to the break room.

After lunch, the remainder of your day was mundane. Or at least it was until Coryo emerged from his office and strutted over to your desk. You didn't pay him any mind, figuring that he prolly just wanted the other bills back along with the notes you just finished up on them. So, when he perches himself on the corner of your desk, all the while suggesting, “Darling, why don't you leave early. You can pamper yourself with, say, a rosewater bubble bath before tonight's dinner. Yea?”, you're taken aback.

You're in total shock.

Your nose scrunched up, reminding Coriolanus of a little bunny rabbit, as you asked incredulously, “Excuse me, Senator Snow? You're sending me home early?” Softly, you trailed off, “To take a bubble bath…”, while tilting up a baffled arched eyebrow.

“A rosewater bubble bath.” The regal platinum man corrected with a long finger high up in the air. Leaning slightly, so that he towers over you as you sit behind your desk (and gets a nice little peek down your v-neck blouse at your modest cleavage), he tells you, “You're such a dedicated employee; I think you deserve to go home early and pamper yourself before I drag you out to a dinner with my potential political sponsor.”

And what he wasn't telling you was that Mr. Feathersworth was bringing his mistress along. Oh yea… So, technically, it's a couples dinner.

Really? He wants you to relax and pamper yourself before a dinner full of political talk? Wow. You weren't expecting that from your boss.

“My bath and beauty products are actually rose-vanilla scented, Coryo, not rosewater.” You told him, before you could even think better of it.

A smirk appears on Coryo's face and desire briefly flashed in his cerulean eyes. The imposing man favored roses; in fact it was his signature, so that fact that you used rose-vanilla scented bath and beauty products had his cold, black heart beating with warmth, life, and daresay love for you.

“Darling, you deserve to pamper yourself in that rose-vanilla bubble bath. We'll be in for quite a long evening; you don't want to be tense beforehand, now so you?”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

Sighing slightly, you gave in with, “Fine, I'll leave early and pamper myself with a bubble bath.”

“Rose-vanilla bubble bath.” Coriolanus corrected with a ghost of a smile tracing his lush lips. Patting your cheek, he tells you, “Go ahead and go, darling. I'll be fine here for a few more hours.”, before pushing himself off of your desk.

“Thank you. I'll see you later for that political dinner.” You genuinely smiled, grabbing your bag out from under your desk and shouldering it before standing up.

“Remember, my driver will be by at 6:45 sharp.”

“Oh, that's right. You need-” You began, intending to give Senator Snow your address, only to be cut off by a raised hand. “I have your address in my employee files, Y/N.” His baritone hung thickly in the air like honey stuck on a honeycomb; slowly dripping down, as he ordered, “Go home and pamper yourself; get all dolled up in something red, my darling rose.”

As you sat neck deep in your tub, surrounded by bubbles, thoughts of your boss floated around your head. You never really thought much about him, or at least you didn't til now. Yes, you always thought that he was easy on the eyes- platinum hair (you always secretly wondered if the carpet matches the drapes), striking crystal blue eyes, a prominent nose, sharp jawline, tall and lanky build. But you never truly fixated your attention on his looks, or at least until now that is.

You can't explain it, but the interaction you had with him before leaving the office had your blood racing. You're flustered with dirty thoughts. Things that you've never truly let yourself imagine about Senator Coriolanus Snow.

But now…

Well, now you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking about your boss while relaxing in your bath; trailing hand over your breasts while your other hand’s rubbing your clit; dipping two fingers in and out of your pussy.

It's best to get this out of your system now, before you're stuck going to dinner with him tonight.

“Coriolanus, I was expecting your driver to pick me up.” You gasp, hand tightly gripping the doorknob of your open door, as you're shocked by the sight of the tall platinum blonde standing in front of you- dressed impeccably in a deep crimson suit with a single red rose in his hand.

“Bentley drove me here.” Coriolanus informed you. “Now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk up to your door to get you our dinner date?” He smirks, offering you the rose.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Dinner date…but I thought this was a professional dinner with a potential political backer, Senator Snow.” You tell him as you shakily take the offered rose from his large, outstretched hand.

“Yes, well, my darling, Mr. Feathersworth informed me that he's bringing along his mistress to Mizuna’s so I don't see why we can't mix some business with pleasure as well.”

Before you could utter a word, the door right across the hall and behind Coriolanus opened; out walked your on-off neighbor ex. Bastard was dressed like he's going out somewhere (or going out with someone). His sea-green eyes look over at you and lock Coriolanus back a bit curiously: portraying that he can't believe you're all dolled up and going out with someone so regal looking.

Deciding that you didn't like the look on your ex’s face, you put your hand on Coriolanus' label and press a quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “Let me put up this rose, Coryo, and then you can take me on our date.”

Coryo grabbed your face in one of his hands and kissed you again, this time his lips searing and hungry, before running his hand over your cheekbone and darkly smirking, “You can just take it along with us, darling. I'm taking you home with me tonight; it'd be such a shame for you to leave your rose alone on a side table all night.”

“You're taking me home with you?” You asked, finding this information entirely new to you.

At least your bronze haired ex wasn't standing behind Coryo; gawking at you anymore.

Pulling you out of your apartment and locking your doorknob, only to slam the door shut, he bluntly tells you, “I’d be a fool not to, Y/N, and, frankly, I'm anything, but a fool.” Coryo smoothly tell you while leading you down the hallway; towards the elevator bank.

And of course when you reach the elevator your ex is just stepping into it. Great, now you're going to be riding in an elevator with your on-off neighbor ex and your boss/sudden new fling.

Oh boy…

“After you, darling.” Coryo sweetly tells you, guiding you into the metal box while following right behind you.

You feel your ex’s eyes on you, burning a hole into the side of your face, as Coriolanus hits the buttons to both close the door and go to the lobby.

“Should've known you'd be cozy with Senator Snow, considering you're his personal secretary.” Flew out of your ex’s mouth as soon as he saw Coryo's large hand come to rest on the small of your back.

“Odysseus…” You chastise, nearly hissing at him.

Coriolanus snapped his head around so fast, it was as if it was going to spin off exorcist style, and narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired man next to you. “I can have you turned into an Avox for slander against Miss Y/N, so I’d mind that useless tongue of yours if I were you.”

“Coryo, calm down. My neighbor-”

“Ex” Odysseus supplied at the same time you uttered the word neighbor, causing Coriolanus’ face to turn into hardened stone.

“She doesn't belong to you anymore, Odysseus. My darling seems to have gotten tired of settling for beans and has upgraded to the filet mignon.” The senator told your ex in a smooth, but eerily cold tone. “You ought to consider yourself lucky that I won't be calling for your tongue, but I'm sure I'm we can agree to you not bothering my sweet girl anymore, can't we, Mister-”

“Odair. Name's Odysseus Odair, Senator Snow.” Your ex shot out, his voice fake and sugary, as he played with fire.

Snow melts, but fish fry. And unfortunately for Odysseus Odair he'd learn that the hard way after Senator Coriolanus Snow gets him exhiled to District 4 for the crimes of slander. Coriolanus' cold ass gives Poseidon Odair, Odysseus’ father, an ultimatum- either sign over his assets, investments, and company over to him and go into exhiled on 4 with his son or his son would be turned into an Avox for slander against you, the senator's personal secretary and girlfriend.

Coriolanus Snow was a cold ass to everyone except for you. Something that you'd come to discover in time. But right now it's not important.

No, right now what's important is keeping the senator from tearing your ex apart limb by limb.

Sensing that Coryo was starting to unravel (something that you've never seen and, frankly, didn't want to) you rubbed his shoulder while telling him, “Coryo, please, just let it go. You don't want to be in a bad mood before dinner with your political backer, do you?”

Coriolanus’ jaw twitched for a moment before he gave you a slight smile, “Of course, darling.”

Odysseus found Senator Snow's demanear changing into sweet and loving for you at the drop of a hat very alarming. Honestly, he thought it was downright scary that Snow went from menacing one minute to practically cooing at you the next.

As soon as the elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged open, your ex practically ran out of them. It made Coryo chuckle.

You and Coryo walked out of the elevator together, only to cross the lobby and head out of the building towards his car. His driver, Bentley, was standing by the black luxury sedan that was parked in front of the curb. Upon seeing you with the senator, he quickly opened the back door. You thanked him and let Coryo help you into the backseat.

“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier, but you look truly beautiful in your red dress.” Coryo told you, once he was settled in the back seat next to you.

“Thank you, Coryo. You look handsome yourself.” You replied with a smile as the driver took his place behind the wheel and pull the car away from your building.

“And tonight we'll make quite the debate as a stunning political couple.” The platinum blonde confidently told you as you rode to the high end restaurant the meeting with major political endorser Mr. Feathersworth, and his mistress, was taking place at.

Tonight is only the first of many spent at Coryo's side. It's safe to say that you're Senator Snow's darling sectary; that he has a soft spot for you. After all, he charmed you into becoming his girlfriend with the guise of attending a political dinner with him for work related purposes.

But you'd accept that dinner invitation again and again no matter what universe you're in because that dinner ended with Coryo fucking you in the backseat of his car. The poor driver nearly drove the car off a bridge and into the opposite lane of traffic he was so startled by what his boss and you were doing. Yes, the two of you still were clothed (for the most part) but Bentley knew that if he looked into the rearview mirror and saw something he wasn't supposed to then Snow would have his eyeballs pickled in a jar (literally!). And after fucking in the backseat of his car, a life was created with Coryo and you never left his side.

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[giuliettagaltieri]

Duel of Knowledge

Pairing: Uni Student!Coriolanus Snow x Uni Student!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Rival

Warning: academic rivalry, elitism, morally gray reader, greed, Dr. Gaul's laboratory, mentions of mutated animals, Capitol cruelty, nepotism, spoilers

Word Count: 2487

2 of 6

It was a fresh start for Coriolanus Snow.  A life in the university, studying under Dr. Volumnia Gaul. 

After District 12.  He was a different man.  His purpose now was clearer, his actions more calculated, more dangerous.

Society welcomed him with open arms.  The star mentor, the academy protégé, and Crassus Snow’s legacy.

Life was also serving him well.  He no longer had to wear buttons made from the bathroom tiles.  No poisoned rats to dispose of.

Sejanus Plinth’s parents invite him for a luncheon on weekends.  He also met the president a couple of times because of the said couple.  Dr. Gaul has also been most helpful.

Had it not been for her, Coriolanus would still be rotting away in District 12.

The university was almost similar to the academy, only better.

He was with the same set of people he studied with.  Although, Clemensia Dovecot steers away from him now.  Two small scars from sharp fangs reminded her what happens when she crosses Coriolanus Snow.

The lessons are much more difficult than what was taught in the Academy but it was nothing he cannot conquer.  He was blessed with the most brilliant minds.

Connections made in the University are better too.  The people he meets are the ones who are currently the ones ruling the world.

The secrets he learns about them, invaluable.

Coriolanus understands the power that a piece of information can hold.

Information saved his tribute in the games.

Information nearly got him hanged.

Information nearly drove him mad.

There were all sorts of it.  Right, wrong.  It was up to you how you use it.  And use it well, he did.

And then, there was you.

The daughter of Thanatos Swansworth, a former associate of his late father.

He had gotten to know you as the girl who craved his attention and thirsted for his validation.

The last time he saw you, he knew he might have broken your heart.  You were just good at covering it up with your smiles.

And until today, he is seeing that exact same smile from across the room.

The air around you is different.  You are more mature, more sure of yourself.  You carry yourself with confidence like how a real Capitol woman does.

“While ethical implication might raise some concerns about the modified epigenetics, the boldness of the concept and the possibility of pioneering a breakthrough is reason enough to continue this research.  My study can advance the frontiers of science in a way that benefits humanity on a broader scale.”  You spoke calmly to Dr. Volumnia Gaul as she cross examined you for your research.

Coriolanus sat with his back resting against the chair, his calculating eyes watching your firm yet inviting demeanor.

A few more questions from Dr. Gaul did not make you falter, you managed to make every query an opportunity to showcase your work.  It was something that he can commend.

“Miss Swansworth, I would like you to come to my office later on to further discuss these ideas of yours.”  Dr. Gaul grins at you.

A glint of pride is visible in your eyes, making Coriolanus narrow his.

“Of course, Dr. Gaul.”

It seems he has competition for Dr. Gaul’s odd fascinations.

Coriolanus watches you return to your seat, his finger tapping atop his desk.

A focused look was plastered on Coriolanus’ face the entire day, he almost cannot wait to meet you by Dr. Gaul’s lab later.

When classes are over, he makes his way to the secured lab of Dr. Gaul.  The strong smell of formaldehyde greets his nose, he has come to get used to it.

His steps are long and purposeful but he was careful enough to silence his glide.

And he was glad he did.

He finds you crouched in a corner, your skirt touching the floor, you are too engrossed with a mutated animal that was trapped behind the glass.

“You found Thumper.”

The startled squeak you made had a sadistic smile spreading on Coriolanus’ lips. 

You glare up at him before standing up.  “Do not sneak up on me.”  You say coldly.  “Especially here.”

The mutated rabbit in front of you gives a jolt with the sound of your voice, its eyes trained on you.

“What did she do to it?”  You ask silently, looking at the mutated animal with chin slightly tipped higher.

Coriolanus stands next to you to eye the poor rabbit. 

Its once soft fur was replaced with a coarse beard-like iridescent coat.  Its paws were bigger with ears larger than normal, and its eyes, ghostly pale.

“Nothing.  The rabbit was exposed to the toxic aftermath of an outdoor experiment.  We had it captured in case it proved dangerous.”

“Is it?”  You ask, trying to maintain your indifference.

“Do you pity that mutt, Miss Swansworth?”

Both you and Coriolanus straighten your posture as Dr. Gaul saunters inside her lab.

“It simply piqued my curiosity.”  You respond carefully.

Coriolanus leaves your side to sit himself in a desk set off for him and your eyes squint at how he acts so casually in the place.

“That was a good presentation you gave earlier.”  Dr. Gaul says as she cuts open what you think is-...was a salamander.

“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.”  You try to not to sound too giddy, you must have failed as you hear a snicker from Coriolanus.

Her hand stills and she looks at you with those dangerous eyes of hers making you hold your breath.

“You mentioned earlier that your study can advance the frontiers of science and that humanity can benefit on a broader scale.”  She looks at you fully now.  “To whom are you referring to, with this…‘humanity’?”  She waves her blood red glove in the air as she asks.

The scratching of pen stills from Coriolanus’ desk and you match Dr. Gaul’s intense stare with yours.

“Who else but us, Dr. Gaul.  The outcomes of my research will contribute to the collective well-being of the Capitol.  Subsequently, the Districts can derive…some advantages from the positive outcomes we achieve.  We cannot reap the same rewards.”  You tilt your head to the side, looking at her coyly from under your eyelashes.  “Afterall, anyone who is not us is an enemy.”

Coriolanus looks up from his desk to eye you.  Dr. Gaul recognizes the look.  It was the same one Crassus Snow had when he married his wife, and the exact same when he submitted the idea he had stolen from Casca Highbottom.  Dr. Gaul only laughs as she resumes her work.

“Would you be interested in studying under me?”  She asks after calming down from her crazed outburst.  “I see potential in you, just like Mr. Snow.  I would love to watch the two of you rise to power.”

You glance at him from your shoulder and find him already looking at you with so much intensity.  You had your eyes on him as you uttered your next words.  “I would love to, Dr. Gaul.”  With much satisfaction, you watched his jaw tighten, bringing a sly smile to your lips.

Having to work after classes in the laboratory gave Coriolanus a chance to observe you.

You were very much like the person you were before he left, but ironically, also really different.

He recognizes the way your eyes narrow and how your hand finds your chin when you encounter a setback.  You also became really proper.  The smiles you gladly throw at everyone back in the academy are gone.  You attended the social events alone too, no longer following Coriolanus around to get him to ask you to come as his date.

There was also the swarm of boys he loathed.

You did not entertain them of course, kindly declining their invites for coffees and luncheons.

“You seem awfully popular with the male population of the Capitol.”

The comment did not stop your movements, not even for a second.  The decadent caramel tart was far too good to waste a moment.

“Mmh, it appears so.”  You reply to Corioalanus who seated himself in front of you at your table.  You preferred having lunch alone, it gave you time to think.  But apparently, that was too much to ask.

You saw this a mile away.  He was coming to talk to you sooner than later, and here he is.  His caramel tart ignored as the polished man found you more interesting.

Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you reach for your coffee as you locked eyes with him.  Almost taunting him to say something about it.

Now, with his slicked back platinum hair, tight jaw, and eyes so cold and calculating.  He looks every bit like his father.

“Is that all you are here for? To talk about my suitors?”  You lean back in your chair, careful to keep your posture straight.

Certainly, that is not all he is here for.  You have witnessed this all around you, even back in the academy.  Protégés sizing up their enemies and rooting out possible competition.  It was not your fault Dr. Gaul was interested in how your mind works, although you have to be responsible for your mischievous glances after you win an argument against him.

Winning arguments, if only you knew how much he was holding back, to save you the embarrassment, to not scare you away with his twisted arguments.

He is letting you go as you please, letting you think you are winning, it would be far more rewarding when he steals the prize right before your eyes.

Coriolanus wonders if he can get you to cry.

“No.”  He grins charmingly, making your blood freeze.  “The Plinths invited me to golf this Sunday.  They asked me to bring a friend.”

Your eyes dart all around his face, trying to search for something that would give him away.

“What are you playing at?”  You spoke slowly.

Coriolanus only laughs heartily, a hand placed over his chest in feign hurt.  “You wound me.  I simply wanted to catch up.  Afterall…”  His eyes dart to the family crest pinned on your chest, his eyes suddenly darkening, smile sharpening dangerously as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.  “We’re childhood friends, aren’t we?”

He can be very persuasive. 

Especially those eyes of his.

You heave a sigh and gently bring your cup to your lips, taking your time to sip. 

“Alright.”

“Perfect.”  He beams brightly.  There is something awfully unsettling about it.

Coriolanus Snow finds your distrustful nature inviting.  You are right to be wary of him. 

Sunday comes faster than you would have appreciated. 

The Plinths were very kind people.  Partly because they oh so wanted to be accepted in the Capitol. 

You are leaning on the golf cart, arms folded as you watch Coriolanus laugh with Sejanus Plinth’s parents.

Your thinking posture returns as you observe them.  Back in the academy, you do not recall Coriolanus and Sejanus to be very close.  They were acquaintances, yes.  Nothing beyond that.  In retrospect, Sejanus was a really lonely kid.  Everybody loved his money but friendship with him was something the Capitol kids never crossed.  The kindness Coriolanus showed him, he must have mistaken it for bond.

Poor Sejanus.

“Y/N.”  Mrs. Plinth calls you over and you fix your sunglasses back on and you head their way.

“Sorry, needed to cool off a bit.”  You smile at them.

“Oh, of course.  Would you like some refreshments?”  She asked, worried.  You smile at her, watching closely if this is real or not.  It might be.

Coriolanus swings his club and sends the ball flying to the cup.

Mr. Plinth slaps his back showering the young boy with compliments.

You are unaware that it was you who is being watched now.

“It has been difficult for my husband and I.”  Mrs. Plinth says softly as she guides you under the shade and pours you a tall glass of lemonade.

You thank her but are not letting your guard down for whatever she may spring at you.

“Our son is gone but that boy.”  She smiles in the direction of Coriolanus.  “Our son loved him like a brother.  It may be selfish on my part but I see my boy in him.”

You drop your head, watching your reflection in the lemonade.

“And he has the Plinths’ full support for his endeavors.”

This catches your attention and the woman smiles at your expression.

“In every victory Panem has, there is always a Snow behind it.”  She raises her chin to gauge your reaction.  “And a Swansworth to help them see it through.”

You tip your own chin up and watch Coriolanus do a perfect swing.

“And so there is.”  You give her a sly smile and she returns it with her own.

You might have just met an ally.

The day ends and you cannot be upset with how it turned out.

“In a better mood, are we?”  Coriolanus says cooly, lips tugging up to one side.

You shrug as you both enter the building where you both live.  “Mrs. Plinth is not an awful company.”  A playful smile is also thrown his way.  “I also enjoyed the view.”

There it is.

“Oh, you did, didn’t you?”  He stops you dead on your tracks, preventing you from getting in the elevator.

You did not let his height be a great advantage as you met him with a proud smile.  “The golf course, I mean.”

“Indeed, the golf course.”  He nods as he looks down at you, a smirk tugging on his lips.  “The golf course with its blistering heat and dry wind, that golf course.”

“Exactly.”  You smile sardonically.  “Now, if you don’t mind, I must get to my apartment.”

He lets you inside the elevator and he follows closely.

You stand next to him in silence as the elevator ascends.

A couple of times, your gazes meet in your reflection.

“I’m running as president.”

You sigh as your back meets the cold elevator wall.

“I know.”

He looks at you now, arm leaning on the handrail.

“I want you with me.”

You roll your eyes, arms crossing.

“I was afraid you’d ask.”

He chuckles lowly.

For a moment, only the soft whirring of the elevator accompanied by the classical tune playing was the only noise filling the space.

“Forgive me.”  He finally says.

It is long overdue but you appreciate it still.

“There is nothing to forgive.”

The elevator dings and you get off.  He walks you to your apartment. 

“Good night, Y/N Swansworth.”

“Good night, Coriolanus Snow.”

And you gently close the door, your eye contact never breaking until all you see is the hardwood door.

You stand there for a long time, contemplating.  Your apartment is cold and empty but the lights from Capitol reflect inside your apartment, casting a soft glow in your family portrait and you look at your father in the eyes.

“Snow will land on top.”

Hunt for Glory