#i am tearing at the walls of my enclosure

[summertimemusician]

*deep breaths, sets coffee down* So.

I just fully caught up with the ending of TOTK.

*SCREECHES MELODICALLY IN THE KEY OF E*

HOW DARE YOU ZELDA TEAM?!

How DARE YOU CREATE A GAME THAT MADE ME ACTUALLY DETHRONE OOT/MJM AND TP IN ONE GO?!

Not spoiling anything, though I am fueled with theories and the mighty need to write. All I can say is that it truly did come full cycle in arguably the best way possible, I am SO HERE for the Ghibli vibes and the many implications, and that the two dragons on the logo make a lot of sense by the ending.

[philistiniphagottini]

16, 26, 65 and 78 from the smut prompts for aventurine plz? 👀

Hi Anon. Since you didn't specify, I chose female reader when doing this request. Thanks for dropping by, hope you enjoy.

Smut Prompts

Prompts 16 + 26 + 65 + 78

cw. smut, penetrative sex, lingerie, praise, mirror sex, pet names ((Aventurine loves to yap lol)), slow and sensual, implied chubby reader, fem! reader, MDNI

"Look at you" Aventurine cooed softly against the shell of your ear. "My pretty baby is performing so well for me."

You stuffed your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the bruised skin as a spine-tingling shiver wracked your spine. You pressed your back against his sturdy chest, squirming in his lap as he blew cool air against your ear. A lazy smirk crawled over his lips as he caught the lobe between his teeth, radiant eyes shimmering with mirth as you continued to shiver from his touch. His fingers ghosted over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps to prickle along your flesh as warmth coiled low in the pit of your stomach. His slender digits hooked around one of the straps of your bra, toying with the flimsy material with a curl of his wrist.

"You look so beautiful, wrapped in lace" he whispered with a husky purr of your name. "I told you I had a good eye for these things."

His lips grazed the soft spot just under your ear, his hot breathing puffing against your perspiring skin and making every hair on the nape of your neck stand up in anticipation. You squeaked as he let go of the strap of your bra, letting it snap back against your skin with a satisfying sound. A salacious moan tickled the back of your throat as Aventurine’s hands continued to knead at your pliant body, pawing at you like a needy cat vying for your rapt attention. You finally let go of your kiss swollen lips as his hips pressed up into you, digging into the soft globes of your ass cheeks as his cock slipped a little deeper into your sopping entrance, your wet pussy snug and warm around him.

A hum bubbled up Aventurine’s throat as your lips parted around a sweet sigh of his name, long lashes brushing over your burning cheeks as your eyes threatened to slip close. Your hands clawed at the fraying edges of the carpet beneath you, head tipping back as you rested it against your lover’s sturdy shoulder.

"Aven…rine…"

Your head felt dizzy and you could barely think past the thick haze of lust fogging up your mind. Your blood simmered in your veins as the tips of your fingers turned numb, your legs quivering as Aventurine languidly rolled his hips against your rump, dragging his cock through your soused walls slow enough that you could feel every steadily pulsing vein lining his girth. A warm chuckle blew past his lips as his hands squeezed the soft pudge of your belly, fingers sinking into generous amounts of skin until it spilled over between his digits. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, his gaze lingering briefly at the apex of your thighs where his cock parted your creamy folds and disappeared between the silky lips.

"Am I making you feel good, baby?" Aventurine asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Your nails threatened to tear holes in the carpet beneath you as you nodded, your throat bobbing as you swallowed around a harsh moan.

"Yes" you breathed. "Feels so, so good."

Golden locks of Aventurine’s hair tickled your skin as he fondly rubbed his cheek against yours, his fingers dancing along your torso as he continued to coo gentle praises against your ear. Your breathing stuttered as he rubbed his cock a little deeper inside you, the tip pressing against a white, hot nerve that caused the hot coil inside you to twist tighter, thrashing around inside your gut like a caged animal gnawing at the bars of its enclosure. Your back curved into a beautiful arch as you offered up your chest to his waiting hands, your perfect tits eagerly bouncing into the warm palms of his hands. He smiled devilishly as he squeezed your breasts, deft fingers tugging at the perky tips of your nipples that just peeked over the top of your bra. You whined his name loudly, the tips of your ears burning red hot at the sound of your pussy slobbering so filthily around his cock. Your hips wriggled, pussy eagerly swallowing around his cock as he pressed up against a soft spot.

"Good girl" Aventurine praised. "Keep moving your hips just like that."

Unshed tears clung to the corners of your lashes as your lungs pinched in your chest, hands still trying to find purchase on something; anything to stop your mind from spiralling out of control so rapidly. Your hands finally found something solid to grab onto as Aventurine’s hands slipped down your waist, the leather material of his gloves setting every single nerve on edge as your hands curled around his knees, fingers clawing at his pants as you tried to hold on. Aventurine’s gaze flicked to the full-length mirror situated in front of you, your reflection almost glowing as he observed you from a different angle. He kept his eyes trained on your figure reflected in the mirror as his fingers pranced along the insides of your plush thighs, scooping up the beads of arousal that dripped down your shaking legs.

"Pretty girl, look in the mirror for me" Aventurine purred against your skin.

You shook your head once his words registered, your eyes shyly averting from the mirror just a few feet away. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Baby, come on, no need to be shy~"

He gently nudged his nose against your cheek, encouraging you further. Still, you refused, a soft noise of protest rumbling in your chest when your head was tipped in the direction of the mirror.

"Come on, do it for me. Pretty please?" Aventurine asked, his voice flowing like honey from his tongue. "Just a little peek. I want you to see how pretty you are."

Aventurine was acutely aware of how you viewed yourself. He knew you were deathly scared of mirrors, adamant to avoid seeing your reflection at any cost. A negative habit he was gently trying to coax you out of. You looked so lovely dolled up for him in lingerie. He just wanted you to have a little glimpse at the image he had the blessing to gaze upon every single day. Maybe if you did, you might just realise why he was so sickeningly, endearing, maddingly in love with you.

You swallowed thickly as you hesitantly tilted your head towards the mirror. Aventurine encouraged you further, nose pressed into your hair as he inhaled your scent and let it curl deep in his lungs with each deep breath he took. Your eyes traced over your figure in the mirror, quickly darting over yourself. You tried not to let your gaze linger on the places you loathed to see the most, instead, trying to appreciate how well the expensive lingerie that Aventurine hand picked himself perfectly hugged your curves and complimented you so well it rendered you speechless.

Your hips shuddered when Aventurine’s fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, moving the fabric aside as your neglected clit was exposed to the cool air of the room. You hissed through clenched teeth as a shiver crawled down your back, heat still bubbling in your stomach and fanned into even hotter flames when Aventurine’s fingers traced the pretty pearl of your clit. Aventurine chuckled softly as his teeth nipped at your exposed neck, tongue following the prominent pulse of your neck as it jumped beneath the press of his mouth. Your eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirror, his glowing gaze almost hypnotic as you lost yourself in their alluring depths.

"See? Aren’t you the most beautiful thing in this known universe?"

The second your eyes strayed from his own and you caught a glimpse of your own flushed expression in the mirror, the trance was broken. A sudden wave of bashfulness shook you down to your core and without hesitation you buried your burning face in the crook of Aventurine’s neck. He couldn’t contain the fond chuckle that tickled his throat. He weaved his free hand in your hair, damp locks curling around his fingertips as he kissed the top of your head.

"Good girl. I’m proud of you. You did well."

He kissed the top of your head once more as you shivered in his lap.

"You alright baby girl?"

You nodded softly. "Hmm. Just…keep going. Want you to make me feel good."

It was just your way of asking for a distraction to empty your head of every single thought so you didn’t have to think anymore. Aventurine smiled.

"Oh, I can do that. I’ll make you feel so, so damn good."

A contented purr stirred in your chest as his fingers rubbed around the hood of your clit, playing with the sensitive nub with such attentiveness you’d think it was his favourite toy. Your hot breath became trapped in the crook of his neck as you moaned and sighed his name against his skin, fingers digging into his knees as the overwhelming bliss sparking in the pit of your stomach like fireworks threatened to consume you. Your plush walls squeezed him tighter, the slow push of his hips matching each sensual rub of his fingers over the hot little button at the top of your pussy. His eyes flicked back to the mirror as he panted, fixated on the way your tight pussy clenched every time he bottomed out as your arousal dribbled down the sides of his cock. The sight alone already had his body teetering on the razor thin edge of oblivion.

He cradled the back of your head as your teeth nipped along his throat, your lips as soft as the touch of rose petals as the swollen flesh just barely ghosted over the deep scars of his past marred into his flesh. He swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as his pulse quickened. His grip in your hair tightened, unable to contain his sudden urge as he wrenched your head up to smothered your lips with his. You both shared a delighted moan as Aventurine’s tongue pried your lips apart, tasting the shape of your mouth as he hungrily swallowed your whimpers and mewls of ecstasy. He sucked on your tongue as the head of his cock brushed against the soft, gummy patch deep inside, making stars swirl in your vision as the pressure inside of you suddenly snapped.

Aventurine whispered praises against your parted lips as you writhed in his lap, coil in your stomach shattering into a million, tiny pieces as your veins were flooded with liquid relief. It felt like your heart was lodged in your throat, ears ringing as your pulse drummed loudly in your ears. The cant of your hips came to a halt as your velvety walls squeezed Aventurine’s cock so tight it felt like you were trying to suffocate him. He buried his boiling cock deeper in your constricting walls, lapping at your sweet saliva as your pussy drowned his cock with thin strands of translucent fluids. The hot, wet feeling made his dick twitch, teeth clamping down on your lip as a groan rumbled in his chest as the coil inside of him unravelled.

Warmth blossomed across your abdomen amidst your own pleasure high, hips jolting as Aventurine’s cock kicked inside you and painted your walls with thick, sticky ropes of white. Your legs snapped shut on instinct, keeping his hand trapped between your thighs as your pussy squeezed and milked him dry until you were filled to the brim and overflowing. Everything felt like a hazy blur when the lingering dregs of pleasure started to fizzle out. You parted from Aventurine’s succulent lips with a loud pop, air heavy in your lungs as you gulped down ragged gasps. You struggled to keep your eyes uncrossed and focused on him, body warm and feeling completely boneless as you relaxed further against him. A warm hum rumbled in his chest as he lazily curled his arm around your waist, hand rubbing your round belly as he kissed your cheek. He couldn’t even be bothered yet to pry your supple thighs apart and retrieve his other hand, prefer to keep it stuffed there as you warmed his cock.

"Such a good girl for me, my pretty baby. Are you feeling full?"

You nodded with a contented hum. "Ask me again in a few minutes."

Aventurine chuckled warmly as he pressed his lips to your sweaty temple. "Anything for my Princess."

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

4: The 10th Annual Hunger Games (masterlist for series)

summary: Coriolanus comes up with a plan to secure his win as the winning mentor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, but he makes a decision that changes everything.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: cheating (i’m so sorry), kissing, fluff, implied sex, mentions of blood and hurt, jealousy, mentions or murder and death, sejanus slander, italics are coriolanus’ inner thoughts.

word count: 4k +

a/n: this took a billion rewrites, but i wrote it sm better than i originally planned :) ty for your patience for this series

Coriolanus knew that winning the Hunger Games was impossible with Lucy Gray as his tribute. She could sing well and get any crowd to flaunt over her. She could care for those around her and get everyone and everything to fall for her charms. But, she couldn’t fight if she wanted to.

This led to Coriolanus sitting at his desk, eyes flickering between his father’s photo, a photograph of him as a baby with his mother, and a framed picture of him and you, looking at each other with pure adoration. He let a small smile slip through his messy thoughts, focusing on you. He loved everything about you.

Thus, he knew what he had to do to win for you and for his family. Even if it meant playing dirty. Even if it meant toying with another’s emotions.

“Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus whispered into the darkness, looking around the Capitol Zoo’s cage. “Lucy Gray!”

“You’re alive.” Lucy Gray whispered as she came over, gripping the iron bars.

“Hey, those bombs? They have changed everything.” He started, determined to get his plan through. “They blew the walls out, so that means you can escape up in the stands. There’s a hole down in the floor,” He flickered his eyes to her lips and back up to her eyes. “Leads down to some tunnels. I’ve tried it, you can disappear down there.”

She nodded, letting him clasp his hand over her own.

“So, the moment you hear that bell ring, you ignore the weapons in the middle and run, as fast as you can for that hole.” He spoke with urgency, squeezing her hand. “And you find a place to hide down below. Alone.”

“Alone? No, Jessup’s my friend.”

“No. The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone, not even Jessup.” His eyes wander the rest of the enclosure. “Just lay low down there until it’s safe to come out.”

Lucy Gray shook her head in appreciation, looking between his eyes. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I can’t let you die. I saved you.” Coriolanus got closer to her, face merely a few centimeters away. “I saved you once, I’m not risking it again.”

A tear fell down her face, “I’m sorry. I’m more hopeful during the daytime, but when it gets dark…”

“It’s okay.” He wiped her face off with his father’s handkerchief, ensuring she was focused on him. “It’s okay. I am going to get you out here. I promise.” He smiles, “Back to the Covey.”

Lucy Gray studied his face. All she saw was true intentions. After a few beats, she leaned in for a kiss, one she somehow needed from the male presented in front of her.

And he let her.

Coriolanus Snow let Lucy Gray Baird kiss him. He let one hand reach to lightly cup her cheek, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

He knew it was wrong. So wrong. But, he only did it for you.

I’m sorry.

“Is this real?” He asks her after separating, regret filling his mind. “Just tell me, if I’m going to risk everything… That song—“

I’m so sorry, beautiful. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’m so sorry.

“That song was payback, that’s all.” Lucy Gray cut him off, shaking her head. “My old boyfriend, Billy Taupe, he was cheating on me with the mayor’s daughter.”

I don’t love her. I love you.

“The girl from the reaping?”

“Yeah, she got crazy jealous. She had her Pa read my name up on that stage. And now everyone will know what they did to me.” She lifted her chin up.

“Yeah.” Coriolanus reached into his shirt, grabbing his mother’s compact. “Take this.”

“No. No, it’s too fine—“

“It’s not a gift. It’s a loan.” He grabbed her hands, squeezing them. “What’s in here, don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadly.” He took her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. “Look, I can see what war does to people, okay? I’ve seen it. And there will come a time when you need this when you need to act. We all do things we’re not proud of to survive.” Coriolanus planted one last kiss on her lips, shutting his eyes.

This is all for you, beautiful, I promise. I’m sorry.

“Hey? We are going to win this, Lucy Gray.” He rubbed her cheek, wiping one last tear. “We are going to win this together.”

With final hugs and kisses from Grandma’am and Tigris, Coriolanus left the penthouse with an unbalanced conscience and the smallest possible amount of hope of winning the Tenth Annual Hunger Games. He was going to pick you up and then walk toward the Citadel where he was to be watching his tribute along with his peers, but the Lovett car was waiting right outside; Your tinted window rolled down with your head resting in your arm.

He did a quick jog over to you — despite the slight limp he had — and bent over to peck your lips. “Aren’t you a wonderful surprise?”

“Good morning, Coryo.” You return the gesture two more times, smiling. He stood there for a minute, admiring you before you spoke again. “Are you just going to stand there? Or do you want to get in the car?”

He shook his head at you and got inside, rolling the window up and shutting the divider between the driver and the backseats. “I was heading out to get you, my love.”

You shrug, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his arms. “Do you want me to leave? I can leave you here and let you come pick me up—”

“Don’t you dare leave me.” He locks you in his embrace. “Anywhere we go, you stay with me, remember?”

You hum and peck his jaw. “I know.”

Coriolanus smiles at your action tilting his head to meet your lips. He stared into your eyes, a smile etching its way onto his face. “What if we do something fun?”

“Hm, when?” You ask in between kisses, letting him bring you closer.

“Right now.” He brings a hand up to your cheek, pushing you slightly. “We have time.”

“Do we?” You wrap your arms behind his neck and wrap your finger around his curls, tugging softly. “I think we have twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He grinned, holding you close as you both fell on top of the backseat, an airy laugh coming from you. “Just enough time.”

The car ride was filled with Coriolanus’ desire to prove his worth of loving you, despite you not knowing what he had even done earlier that morning. Sadly, both of you did not take into account how short twenty minutes truly were.

“Miss Lovett? We’ve arrived at the Capitol’s Citadel.” Your driver knocked on the divider, shifting the car gear into park.

Coriolanus watched as your eyes widened, chuckling as a planted one last kiss on your lips.

“Thank you! We’ll be out soon!” You quickly reply and push your boyfriend off of you, sifting through the discarded clothes in the small space. “It would be nice if you helped and got dressed, Coryo.”

“Right.” He murmured, squeezing your hips.

Without fail, you both got dressed as swiftly as possible. You rubbed light lipstick stains of Coriolanus while he straightened out your blazer and top, adjusting it just right to cover the newly formed bruises across your collarbone.

After checking each other one last time, Coriolanus stepped out of the vehicle, waving to the cars waiting behind as a way to make peace with them. He set his hand out to guide you onto the concrete, nodding to your driver as you made it.

“Are you sure I look fine?” You ask with worry laced in your tone, looking across the area filled with Academy rouge.

“You look beautiful.” He linked your arms together and lowered his head to yours, kissing the side. “Thank god for your tinted windows, hm?”

“We’re done with this conversation now.” You reach for your necklace, face flushed. He chuckled at you before silence took over, only the shuffles from you and others emerged.

“Clemmie visited me yesterday.” You look up at him, tilting your head.

“She did?” Coriolanus questioned you, glancing over. “How is she?”

“She’s okay… She won’t be participating as a mentor anymore.” You look around before continuing, voice almost in a whisper. “She said Dr. Gaul was trying to kill her.”

“What?” He almost asked in disbelief.

“Coryo, she had scales appearing on her skin.” You shiver as you recall the memory. “It’s awful.”

“I’m sure Dr. Gaul didn’t want to kill her. I think she just wanted to frighten her.”

You look at him, confusion creeping onto your face as you enter the main viewing and seating area. “By letting her creations bite Clemmie? That’s not—“

“That friend of yours, Plinth,” Dean Highbottom interrupts your conversation, causing you both to whip your heads around to him. “You might want to find him a seat near the door.”

Coriolanus gave him a curt nod and led you down the stairs toward where the rest of the Academy mentors were stationed.

“What was that about?” You mutter, body close to his as he has his hand around your waist.

“I don’t know.”

You hum, flickering your eyes to the press and reporters stationed in every corner of the room, not forgetting the cameras that would focus in on Flickerman and the mentors’ reactions.

“Coryo. Y/N.” Sejanus calls out from Coriolanus’ right, making you both head in his direction.

Coriolanus flexes his hand on your waist, “Hey.”

“How’re you doing? You guys alright?” The young Plinth asks politely, squeezing your arm.

“We’re doing better.” You give him a small smile.

“Look over here please.” A photographer held his camera in front of the three of you, chasing your conversation to be cut off once more.

Coriolanus tightens his hold on your waist as you lean into him with one arm wrapped around his torso whilst the other includes Sejanus. The blond let a small smirk come across his face, you let a camera smile take over, and Sejanus kept a neutral face, capturing the essence of different Capitol students.

After the flashing of the camera, the photographer left, your smile fading and Coriolanus’ smirk dropping.

“Alright, later.” Sejanus nods a bye to the both of you, heading to his designated station.

“I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” Coriolanus tilted his head down to yours as the music announcing the start of the live stream began.

“M’kay.” You push on your tippy toes and peck his lips. “Love you, good luck.”

“I love you more.” He placed a chaste kiss to your lips then your temple.

Lucretius Flickerman began directing everyone on how they should behave, scolding Festus for not already being in his seat. Your leg bounced up and down as Flickerman continued his spiel, eyeing the screen with the bright letters reading THE HUNGER GAMES.

The livestream started and eyes immediately found Dill who was with Wovey and Lucy Gray, each being escorted by Peacekeepers. Your heart started to beat faster as her Peacekeeper pushed her with his rifle, shoving her over to her marker.

“Stay with Reaper.” You mumble as the camera view switches to the other tributes, clutching your silver rose in your hand.

The view then pans over to a District Three tribute, zooming in on her coughing, panicked state. She seemed to be staring at something in the arena that put her in such distress.

Finally, the camera finally shifts to what the girl is staring at making you silently gasp. The District Two tribute — Marcus — was tied up against two fallen concrete poles, the sight staying on the screen far longer than anyone would have liked.

“Oo, Marcus.” Flickerman looked back into the camera stationed inside the Citadel. “Guess we can all sleep better now knowing that he’s off the streets.”

You flinched when Sejanus stood and threw his desk across the front, screaming toward everyone watching the live and those inside the building.

“You’re monsters! All of you!” He yells as his eyes become glassy. Sejanus storms out of the room, your eyes following him in sorrow. You knew that Sejanus was friends with Marcus, so the heartache was just worse.

The host starts his countdown, his voice echoing throughout the room.

“Stay put.” You whisper as the horn blares, watching as the camera angles switch every few seconds. You blow out a breath when Reaper comes over to protect Dill, shutting your eyes knowing she is safe.

The bloodbath left 13 tributes left, Dill and Lucy Gray remaining. Truly you wanted Dill to get out alive, but how could she if Reaper was helping?

Would there always be one winner?

“Can I leave?” You ask Dean Highbottom as he walks behind you, fidgeting with the buttons on your desk. “I’ll be right back.”

“No one is stopping you, Miss Lovett.” He gestures.

You nod, standing and making your way over to Coriolanus. You run your hand from one of his shoulders to the other, bending down to his ear. “I’ll be back, Coryo. I’m starving.”

His eyes never leave the screen as he takes your hand, kissing the back of it. “Bring me something, yeah?”

“Sure.” You frown, hoping he would have gotten up to at least stretch.

You left the room and you headed to the dining area right outside, scanning the different food options for the day. Taking into account that you would most likely be staying inside the Citadel for much longer, you opted for the filling foods — also known as pasta.

“Y/N.” Sejanus finds you, a surprised look appearing on his face for a split second. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting food.” You say although it sounded more like a question. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to head home. I feel like it would be worse to deal with everything.” He crosses his arms, following you to a table. “Anything else happened while I left?”

You shake your head, taking a sip from your water. “Just the same things. I’m not sure anything else would surprise you too much with what happened.”

Sejanus hums, sinking down into his chair. “Are you… Are you really okay with the games happening? I mean, I know it can’t be easy watching all those deaths happen.”

Looking around the dining area before responding, you lower your voice. “I despise the games, Sej. Everything I said to Dr. Gaul was all for show, but I don’t have any power here. I’m just a woman in the Capitol. The only ones with power are those higher up.”

“I’m not asking you to stop the games right now. But would you join a rebellion against the Capitol, defending those living in the Districts?”

You search his eyes, “I don’t know. I don’t want to cause another war. You know how bad it was…”

“I know, I know. But imagine if we won? The games would be over and no child would ever have to go through this. Not a Capitol student nor a District child.” He sat up straighter and clasped his hands together, looking at you with seriousness. “Just— I can’t go through another game, flower. You know it best.”

“I know.” You look down, playing with your food. Suddenly, you had lost your appetite. “What would the plan exactly be, Sej? You can’t just go through with this with no plan.”

The smallest smile stretches across his face, “I can’t tell you. Only if you agree to help take down the games and such.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Sejanus, this is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“It only takes one action to change something, Y/N.” He sighs.

You let silence take over, glancing around the dining area and meeting Dr. Gaul’s piercing eyes, staring dead straight at you. She gave you her signature sinister grin, nodding at you in acknowledgment. You give her a wry smile, tilting your head back down to the table.

“I have to go.” You mutter, pushing yourself out of the seat, and rush back to the viewing room — not before grabbing Coriolanus’ favorite snack.

As night fell over Panem, almost everyone left the Capitol’s Citadel. The only ones left were you and Coriolanus. You fell asleep at your station waiting for Coriolanhs while he fell asleep waiting for something to happen inside the arena. All the lights were shut down and the bright screen at the very front changed from its original design to the game footage again, Dr. Gaul took quick steps over to where Coriolanus was sleeping.

“Mr. Snow.” Dr Gaul stood before the male, Coriolanus immediately waking up from his seat.

He looked at her stone face, creasing his brows. “What happened? Is it Lucy Gray?”

“Unless you can put a leash on your deluded classmate, she might as well be dead as far as you’re concerned.” She leaned against his computer and shifted so he could see the screen encasing Sejanus inside the arena.

“Sejanus?” He whispers out.

“Bread crumbs.” She scoffed at the District-made Capitol boy. “I believe sustenance for a fallen comrade on his final journey. A District Two superstition.” She held the computer screen again and faced Coriolanus. “I’ll work on finding the Peacekeeper he bribed to get him in, and cut out their tongue. In the meantime, I need someone to get him out right now.”

Coriolanus averts his gaze to his left, “You should send Peacekeepers in.”

“Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit? Felix Ravinstill is fighting for his life in the hospital, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul catches his look toward your sleeping figure. “I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my Games. Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt.” She spits out. “You choose to be friends with this radical. You want him to end the Games tonight?”

“It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two of us.” He spoke with confidence, not wanting to enter the area.

“Would you rather have your flower get him instead Or rather the both of you? It seems as if Sejanus cares an awful lot more about her than you. They did have a good chat in the dining room while you stayed here to watch the games.” She says as a twinge of jealousy and fury passes through Coriolanus’ features.

She hums at him, “Who knows? If you get him out unscathed, I’ll whisper your name in his father’s ear. You still want that Plinth Prize, don’t you? I’ll freeze the feed for an hour. I estimate that’s all we have until the people notice.”

Dr. Gaul gave him one last look before leaving the vicinity to freeze the video. Coriolanus waited until she left to go to you, softly shaking you awake.

“Beautiful?”

You hum, still half-asleep.

“You need to get up and go home, my love.” Coriolanus took your face in his hands and rubbed your cheek, needing you to wake up.

“Why?” You mumbled. “I’ll be fine here.”

“No, you’ll be here alone. I don’t want you to be.” He kissed your head. “Come on.”

“Why won’t you stay?”

“I have to get Sejanus out of the arena.” He muttered, making your eyes go wide.

You look over at the screen, watching Sejanus kneel by his fallen friend. “Why is he in there?”

“It doesn’t matter, but he’ll die if I don’t get him out,” Coriolanus spoke with a strict voice, sending an odd feeling to your stomach. “I need you to go home, beautiful.”

“No! I won’t let you go in there, Coryo.” You stand now, grabbing his arm like he would leave any second. “Why can’t someone else do it?”

“Dr. Gaul—“

You roll your eyes, “Are you seriously going in there just because she told you to?”

“She threatened to send you in there.” He whisper-shouted at you, almost as if there were people around to watch. “Now listen and go home, Y/N.”

You crease your brows and scoff, pushing away from him as you leave the Citadel. Coriolanus shook his head at you, but left, heading toward the arena to get Sejanus out.

But of course, you were stubborn enough to not listen and follow him closely to the arena. The Peacekeepers wouldn’t let you go inside, but they did let you wait until they came out.

“Open the gate! Open the gate!”

You heard Coriolanus’ scream from inside the arena, making you whip your head toward the Peacekeepers. He ran faster at your figure being present, quickly engulfing your body as he made it out of the arena, protecting you. Coral’s pitchfork hit the metal bars, making the both of you flinch at the noise.

“Coriolanus!” You grab his face in your hands, scanning his features. “Are you okay? I didn’t—”

“What are you doing here?” He spoke through his teeth, taking in sharp breaths. “I told you to go home.”

“I couldn’t just leave you, Coryo.” You frown, your eyes are glassy at the way he breathed heavily and his dirtied figure. “Everywhere we go, I stay with you.”

“You are horribly headstrong, my love.” He leaned his forehead on yours, shutting his eyes.

“Watch those screens, gorgeous,” Coral says as she bangs the pitchfork on the gates. “ ‘Cause I may have missed you tonight, but your songbird’s next on my list.”

She left as you stood holding your boyfriend’s face, still searching him for any injuries.

“Where did you get hurt?” You murmur as he winces at the sudden pain he received after the rush disappeared. He reached for his back, pressing on the wound he obtained from inside. You take his hand and remove it from damaging the wound any further.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Coryo, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sejanus repeated from his knelt position. “For all of it…”

You give him a sad look, running your hand up and down Coriolanus’ arm. “It’s not your fault, Sejanus.”

“It’s all my fault.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” The sound of car doors opening catches your attention, Strabo Plinth and his wife stepping out. “My father… Let the buying begin.”

Sejanus’ mother rushed over to him, bringing him into an embrace as they exchanged words. Strabo Plinth nodded in your and Coriolanus’ direction before Peacekeepers grabbed the both of you.

Dr. Gaul had a car waiting for him at the front of the arena, sending him over to the laboratory. Coriolanus made sure you tagged along for two reasons.

One, he had to make sure you were safe now that it was really late. Two, he was far more distraught that he murdered a tribute, needing your around for comfort.

You held Coriolanus’ jacket as he held your free hand, rubbing circles to calm himself as you entered the Gamemaker’s building.

“Snow stormed down. Down in his head. It stormed down on his head. And now the boy is dead.” Dr. Gaul spoke from her desk, hands put together as she spotted the two of you. She chuckled, “You’ve had enough of the games tonight, I see. Come sit, I’ll stitch you up.”

“You should go home now.” Coriolanus turned to you, taking his jacket from your arm.

“No.” You insist, standing your ground. “I can’t. Not after what happened inside—“

“Beautiful, go home. Don’t worry about me.” He stroked your cheek, his eyes glassy this time. “Promise me you’ll go home?”

“You are insufferable, Coriolanus.” You wipe a tear from his face. “I promise.”

“Take the car.” He presses a quick yet tender kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You nod, “Love you too.”

For now, you left with Coriolanus’ love and worry for him while Coriolanus stayed with a more ruined conscience and the thought of keeping you safe.

With every thought consuming both of your minds, neither of you would know how much shit was about to go down and how much it would affect your lives.

All because of a deal.

taglist: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @emma-andrea1 @psychicpuppyarcade @chrryluna @whodis-26 @coconut-dreamz @cowgirllharry @slytherinholland @lacysversion @perks-of-being-jojo @itzmeme @noodlesketchbook @ohmyzai @upsidedownjill @axionn @mizuki80 @unclecrunkle @tiaamberxx @bxtchopolis @starrynightstory @namelesslosers @lugiastark @didneyworld13 @dangelnleif @aemondsb1tch @witchsbitchestime @ryujinraven @ace-spades-1 @ordinarylokix @kookie29 @secretsicanthideanymore @angelscrime @melodyoflove99 @ms-longbeach @rosieleej @alpha-mommy69 @loklaufeysonssgodess @aoi-targaryen @imaginebeingmentallystable @sighsophiia @innercreationflower @cascadingbliss @edb954 @castellandiangelo @lot4ever (comment to be added)

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[nordarknessdimsthesky]

A linguistic analysis of tumblr hyperbole in the tags

This post expands my previous analysis of hyperbolic reactions to cluster tags by themes. There were too many themes, some of them overlapping, to create a cohesive graph. Instead, I present several overarching themes from a data set of 50 tags observed and documented in various corners of tumblr.

1. Feeling Normal™️

Tags within this cluster profess Normal feelings (read: extreme excitement, enthusiasm, obsession, derangement, etc.).

#mmmmrrrghuhhhhghhh #I'm so normal about it teehee #absolutely not rending my clothing #feeling very normal and not feral at all #i will simply never recover #gif sets sent to personally destroy me #i can't cope #the eyes #i'm a puddle #i am INCONSOLABLE #i am DISTRAUGHT #IM NOT OKKAAAAAAYYYYYY #FEELING TOTALLY ONE HUNDRED PERCENT NORMAL

2. Feralness

The following data points conjure animalistic behavior. There’s a non-zero amount of biting and chewing involved.

#chomping biting barking #biting my arms off #rattling my cage #[incoherent biting noises] #chewing glass #chewing through wood #*shaking the bars of my enclosure* HELLO!!!!!!!! #climbing the walls #biting gnawing chewing #im gonna rip off my front door and eat it

3. Noisy Emotional Outbursts

These tags encompass crying, screaming, yelling, and other loud reactions.

# shaking sobbing crying #SCREAMIIIING BANGING MY HEAD ON THE WALL #*no thoughts only wailing* #i am SOBBING #IM CRYING LIKE A BITCH #*just fucking yelling* #S C R E A M #screeching into a pillow #brb sobbing for 5-7 business years

4. Throwing

All of these tags except the last one involve being thrown instead of throwing things. I, personally, am entertained by the range of places/situations people are throwing themselves into.

#i am going to THROW MYSELF into the SEA #hurl me into the sea #hurl me into the sun #trebuchet me into the sun #hurl me straight at europa #vent me out of an airlock #slam me against a wall #put me in a box and throw me down the stairs #throwing myself into traffic you know? #just defenestrate me already #defenestrate me #absolutely hurl me through plate glass #i'm going to start tossing furniture

5. Bodily Harm

There’s a good deal of overlap with the previous theme. Nearly all of the tags involving throwing would result in varying degrees of bodily harm. Here are the tags outside of the Throwing subgroup.  

#im going to throw upppppp #tearing my hair out #banging my head against the wall #SCREAMIIIING BANGING MY HEAD ON THE WALL #biting my arms off #microwaving myself #crumple me up and microwave me

6. Absurdism

My personal favorite cluster. The imagery conjured and resulting comedic hyperbole is just [chef’s kiss].

#im gonna rip off my front door and eat it #crumple me up and microwave me #put me in a box and throw me down the stairs #defenestrate me #absolutely hurl me through plate glass

7. Keysmashes

These tags center less around meaning and more around style, so they form the last group. A handful of these could fall under Noisy Emotional Outbursts because they represent reaction noises. In my linguistic judgment, keysmashing increases the hyperbole – consider augh versus aughfhghghghhh – the latter reads as prolonged and more intense emotionally.

#aghdjakgsjadhjaka * #hrhrhrhgnnnghhhhh #aughfhghghghhh #mmmmrrrghuhhhhghhh #I'm so normal about it teehee #waughfhghghh #oughhhhghghhh

*one digression in a friend discord server was how people interpret keysmashes in their minds. Some hear the first couple letters and then some sputtering, others hear static. It’s a common joke that you need a minor in linguistics to understand conversations in this friend group. Such is the nature of things when the chaos linguist energy is strong.

[museofthepyre]

I am thinking about Fruity the fruit fly, and CHNT File 18 in general... (MAJOR CHNT S1 FINALE SPOILERS)

When Sydney and Jedidiah were playing house as children, Jedidiah grew an emotional attachment to a fruit fly they were pretend-parenting… he didn’t want to leave it behind, even after the day was over. So he decided to keep it. He put the fly in a container, kept it under his bed, and took it out every single day to admire from the outside of that tiny little jar… ���He loved that bug. He thought that was enough.”

Then, the fruit fly died. It died because in all the time Jedidiah had it trapped within that container, throwing itself against the walls, unable to escape or advocate for itself… Jedidiah never thought to feed it. It starved in there, all alone. But… Jedidiah LOVED that bug. He thought that was enough.

When Jedidiah decided to resurrect Sydney— Sydney had no voice to speak for himself. Jedidiah could sense the imminence of their time together coming to an end (both due to their strained relationship, and Sydney’s failing health). But Jedidiah hates endings, he didn’t want to leave Sydney behind… even after their time was over.

So he decided to keep Sydney.

Resurrected, “alive”, if only within this little container.

Now Sydney is bound to the campgrounds, he can’t leave (he becomes incredibly sick, for yet unspecified reasons). He’s stuck in this lonely little jar that Jedidiah put him in to keep, so that he’d never have to let go— so that he could look in from the other side of the glass, as the insect throws itself against the walls of its enclosure, where it will slowly die of starvation and neglect.

Jedidiah is the only one who can “feed” Sydney (metaphor here being ‘nourishment via love’, as food often symbolizes love in CHNT… his presence and attention, etc)— he took on that responsibility when he decided to keep Sydney in this state of liminal existence (largely for his own sake, though I don’t believe he was aware of that subconscious motivation).

Leading up to the time in which Sydney was resurrected, he had no voice to advocate for himself— he had no say in it at all. We know Sydney likes closure, he likes endings, he’s stated “Any eternal life that any wannabe necromancer would try and offer you is bound to be a fate worse than death.” Would he have chosen this? Would he have chosen this pseudo-life of endless sickness and loneliness?

That question is irrelevant now, because Jedidiah made the choice for him, to bring him back… and then to leave him there. Alone, in this miserable existence that he did not choose, and he cannot leave. He’s trapped, alone, empty, and starving (you can see where I’m connecting things here).

I do think Jedidiah should be subject to criticism for his neglect of Sydney. It’s so much more complicated than “he shouldn’t be forced to spend time with Sydney if he doesn’t want to anymore”. He’s the one who put the fruit fly in the container, and closed the lid.

Some additional quotes that I’ve formed this analysis from:

Jedidiah makes me cry tears I love him very dearly, he truly thought he was doing the right thing, he was desperate and afraid— but that doesn’t mean he’s exempt from responsibility. File 18 feels like a little peek into his subconscious processes and this is just my personal interpretation of that :3 I love love love character analysis thanks for letting me ramble :3

[heartfullofleeches]

Imagine Miller doing a subbathon with yan chat except instead of donating bits to keep the stream going, they’re donating bits to see Y/n. Y/n is just sitting there next to Miller reading a book or something whilst they play a game and anytime the counter runs out because chat didn’t donate Miller juts kinda, throws a blanket over them or something until someone donates

A shadow appears outside your tent.

"Mind if I come in? Looks so cozy from here I might not leave.. Ow, ow, shit- not again." Setting up for the stream, Miller pokes their head through the curtains of your enclosure to attach a mic piece to a hanging frame, cerulean dreads snagging on the velcro latch in the midst of their playful banter. They mutter expletives, since as they tear their locks free. They crawl inside the tent and tap the mic overhead where you lay with a book in your lap and surrounded by a small library filled with more novels and other items needed for the duration of your stay. When Miller told you they'd be pulling out all the stops for your new corner - they meant it.

The whole idea for the space came when they discovered the very foundation for it online. They had mindlessly scrolling through various forums looking for ideas to make their room feel more of a home for you when they came across a frame for a floor bed fashioned in the design of a small house. It went in their cart that second and on their doorstep a day later. After gutting one side of their floor and setting the bed up, Miller fit it with your favorite sheets and pillows. They strung up mood lights and installed shelves into the walls for your trinkets. By the time they were done, the area was more decked out than their entire apartment. A fair act given who it was for. You warmed up to it well enough and that's all they could ever ask.

Miller grabs the remote for the lights and turns them up. "Quiet read in the dark unless you want eyesight somehow worse than mine." Their voice softens the closer they get until their lips graze your cheek. "You good to start?"

"Mmm...." You pull the blanket trapped beneath their knees over your lap. "Now I am."

Miller smiles. "Good. Remember, just turn off the cameras if you can't handle the attention. There's one there, there, and obviously here-" They point around the room, stopping on the front facing camera of your laptop. "And you have my card if you want order something to eat while we're live. I'll check on you in about an hour. Be good."

Miller nabs the pillow cushioning your elbow and lightly smacks your knee with it before backing out of the tent. They place it behind their neck as they sit down at their desk and adjust their headphones over their ears. Waking their monitors up, they find the feeds from your cameras on one and the scheduled stream on the other. Right before they tune in, Miller presses a kiss to the pads of their fingers and places it on the screen where you sat. The curtains draw back.

"Saw that!"

Miller hushes you, wiping the snicker off their face as the stream goes live. "Hey, guys. As some of you may know if you follow the community page, we have a special stream today."

They eyes the chat as you get comfortable. You yawn, laying on your side with your book in hand.

[I'll take your entire stock.]

[So glad I got paid yesterday. How are they so freaking cute?!]

[If someone gives a certain amount can they read to us too???]

[Alexa, what's my location]

"Your first mistake is thinking I'd have one of those things. Your second is not realizing we plan on moving every two years. You can watch them all you want, but it's best you remember Y/n is my partner. Cross any boundaries and I will take them away just as easily as I have shown them off to you.... but I'll still send pictures from the wedding!... Baby, you doing okay?

You hold your finger over your laptop's camera, reading the flood of messages and donations from your phone. "They absolutely hate when I do this.... but I think it works in our favor."

[iamthecomet]

Thots on the new Ghouls first impact scene?

What if he saw Mountain putting Rain back in his place over his knee in the middle of the common room after he had been real bratty all day. To start the new ghoul was shocked and worried that seemingly sweet, gentle Mountain would do such a thing to his mate but when Mountain asked Rain for a colour after a particuarly hard hit started the tears flowing, he put two and two together from the gentler, sensation and teasing based scenes he has been part of so far. Watching Rain endure his 'punishment' has his brain shorting out and he decides right then, he absoloutly wants a piece of that.

Which ghoul does he go to about it, does he bring up the subject and ask nicely for what he wants or does he just try bratting like Rain and Dew on for size, to see where it gets him? how does the scene itself go down? I have so many questions i am gnawing the bars of my enclosure!

Thoughts below the cut. Not quite a ficlet and not quite headcanons, just nearly 1,000 words of unhinged ramblings.

Two things happen when he watches Mountain spank Rain. The first, is that he realizes he really likes to watch. He likes the way Rain shudders, the way he yelps. Loves the way his body jolts with each solid hit. He feels the sound in his bones.

There is something about the way Mountain asks for a color that makes Aeon feel insane. The care evident in his voice. The way he pushes Rain's sweaty hair out of his face when he asks. The desperate nod to Rain's head when he says he's green. 'm green, Mount don't stop.

The second is that he realizes he needs this. Needs to feel that sharp sting. Needs someone to talk to him like this. Needs the vitriol mixed with the love like his life depends on it.

And you might think Aeon tries to broach the subject with Mountain or Aether. Maybe even one of the ghoulettes. He definitely doesn't try to just brat himself into it. He's seen enough to know that there's negotiation involved. And it would be smart to ask one of the bigger ghouls. The level headed ones.

But he doesn't want Mountain to hit him. He thinks he does, when he's watching the scene unfold. But then Dew strides into the room, looks at the scene and barks out a laugh and Aeon knows exactly who he wants.

Dew makes a comment about Mountain not hitting Rain hard enough and suddenly Aeon needs to know what those bony hands feel like on his ass. He's staring before he realizes it--and worse, Dew's staring back. Mouth quirking up into a sly smile that makes Aeon's stomach do a disastrous flip.

Dew leaves the room without a word.

Aeon tries to think of ways to ask Dew for this without embarrassing himself. He really likes Dew. Wants to impress him. He rolls possible ways to get it to happen around in his head for two days. He watches Dew during practice, during dinner.

He knows he's making a mistake. That Dew isn't going to treat him nicely like Mountain treats Rain, and Aeon's ok with that. He doesn't particularly want nice. He wants Dew.

He doesn't end up having to ask. Dew corners him in the hallway on the way back to their rooms from dinner. Comes up behind him, twists one arm behind his back and shoves him, chest first, into the nearest wall.

Strong despite his size, and Aeon can't think of anything except being bent over his knee. The smell of Dew invades his senses. He's hard already, dick grinding against the stone wall as Dew pins him.

"You want me to hurt you, don't you?" Dew asks, and Aeon nods, he whispers please against the wall and he can feel Dew's grin on the back of his neck.

Aeon half expects Dew to get right to it. To force him to undress, to drag him over his knee and just start. But Dew makes him talk about it first. Sets ground rules. Explains the color system. Tells Aeon that he isn't allowed to force himself through this if it's too much.

That conversation alone is almost too much. Dew's as serious as Aeon's ever seen him. Arms crossed, eyes focused on Aeon's as he talks and forces Aeon to answer.

By the time they're ready and Dew orders him to strip, he's shaking. He's hard, embarrassingly so. His cock already dripping. And Dew takes one look and huffs out a harsh bark of laughter.

He drags Aeon over, bends him over his knee, and tells him that if he makes a mess on Dew's jeans--he's going to have to clean it up.

Dew makes him keep count. The words stuttering out of his mouth after every sharp hit. Dew starts off easy. Sharp hits that sting but don't ache. Aeon lurches with each one. Gasping as Dew's hands land on alternating cheeks. Purring as he kneads at them between strikes. Melting deeper and deeper into Dew's lap. His face pressed into Dew's sheets--they smell like him.

Aeon grinds his dick against Dew's thigh and mewls.

The first hard strike takes him off guard. He yelps. He feels the sting of it deep. Feels the impact in his legs.

Dew tells him he's going to make sure Aeon thinks about him every time he sits down for the next week and Aeon suddenly believes him. Knows that by the end of this his ass will be a myriad of colors.

He can't wait to see.

The yelps turn into moans after a while. Dew fists his free hand in Aeon's hair and drags his glassy gaze up so he can really look at him.

"Fucking pain slut," Dew accuses and Aeon can't deny it. He just nods, and when Dew asks him for a color, Aeon tells him green.

And then he asks for Dew to hit him harder.

Aeon only makes it two more of those hard hits before he's cumming all over Dew's jeans. Sobbing with it. Tears soaking into Dew's bedspread.

Dew scoffs. Calls him pathetic. Tells him to clean up his mess. Aeon slips off Dew’s lap and kneels between his legs and dragging his tongue over the rough denim while Dew keeps a firm hand in his hair to guide him. Dew drags his mouth over his cock. Tells him if he really wants to be his good boy—he’ll suck his cock.

Aeon is more than happy to oblige.

[f0rlorn]

i’m not a violent dog → coral

coral!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you get to understand coral a little better. feminine intended reader.

warnings → descriptions of brandy’s dead body, other typical thg warnings. also me giving characters angst alert!!! not edited & uploaded via iphone (i didn’t know how to end this lol) AND ME NOT REMEMBERING HOW THE BOOK WENT LMAO

     you barely managed to choke back a scream as brandy’s body dangled in front of you. heavensbee hall went silent, as the crane hauling her limp form, which was ridden with gunshots, paraded through the street. below brandy, the tributes could be vaguely made out, chained up. you couldn’t help but scan over them quickly, trying desperately to account for coral. spotting her, you sighed, though not of relief. perhaps it was shame that this is what your home had come to, exploiting the youth of it’s country. maybe it was even sympathy for coral, but seeing her in the state she was in brought anything but relief. coral was slouched over, making herself as small as possible, a stark contrast to the brave face she had put on at the zoo, when you had first met her. swallowing the vomit that threatened to rise, you decided to give her a visit later that night.

     when the time came, you vowed to immediately make your way to the zoo, declaring that determining her safety was more important at the moment. and as soon as class ended, you were off. peacekeepers formed a wall in front of the entrance, forcing you to buy your way in. after arguing with the peacekeeper, who finally gave in when you had offered him payment, you were allowed visitation, but only under supervision and for a limited amount of time. you tried to be polite with the gruff older man, making small talk with him as he guided you to the monkey cage, but once you saw coral you were out of his sight.

     “coral!” you cried. once she had noticed you she made her way to the front of the enclosure rather slowly. they still had the tributes chained up. “please tell me you’re not hurt.”

     “not. but i can’t take much more of this.” she admitted. her gaze was fixed to the floor, and the refusal to look you in the eyes broke your heart.

     “i.. i know. i’m trying my best to help but dr. gaul won’t give me the time of day.” you explained, eying her with worry. “i can’t believe they’ve chained you up like this, it’s inhumane.” while that was true, compared to the rest of the list of things the capitol was enforcing, this hardly scratched the surface.

     “i wish they’d just kill me already.” coral muttered, voice gravelly.

     “please, coral, don’t say that. you can win, i know you can.” you pleaded. her eyes bore resentment at your words.

     “why do you believe that, huh?” she gripped the bars that separated the two of you forcefully, “because i’m big and scary? do i intimidate you?” her voice rose and her tone grew angry. the chains holding her hands together rattled as she moved. seeing as you almost flinched, she scoffed, slouching once more. “i don’t want to be the way i am, y’know,” coral mumbled, her lip quivering. “i’m.. i’m not violent. i don’t know why i fight. we’re all animals to them, that’s all we’ll ever be.” her words brought tears to your eyes. 

     the dehumanizing of the districts had gone on for far too long. there had been countless encounters with your classmates where the district people were referred to as “animals,” and the thought truly disgusted you. but up until this point you had merely been a pawn. despite the countless opportunities you were given to speak up to your classmates, you remained silent. even worse, you had ignorantly laughed along with them in the past. but what better way to wash away your guilt than play the savior in someone else’s story? even if the ulterior motive went unbeknownst to you, the privilege you had couldn’t be ignored by yourself. you could make a difference if you tried, if only you knew how. the best you could do for now was try to get your tribute out of the games alive.

     “you’re not an animal, coral. you’re a girl. a strong one, and a really, really brave one. coral, please.” you begged her, you didn’t quite know what for, though. “the fight you have in you is nothing to be ashamed of, it’s how you survived. i’m sorry, coral. i’m so so sorry.” you broke down, allowing the tears to spill from your eyes. “i wish i could do more to help you. this is so… messed up,” you sobbed.

     “back home, they tell us not to cry. there’s too much work to be done for tears. me and my siblings start work before dawn, and we work till night. if only they could see me now,” she laughed humorously. “and the things they’d say about you, gosh… you wouldn’t last a day there, princess. i can’t imagine you being able to haul crates of fish. let alone be able to catch one.” you pressed your forehead against the bars and let her words hang in the air. after a minute or so, her head rest against the bars as well, nearly touching yours. silence rang in the air as the two of you sat, contently.

     “alright, girly, time’s up. you’re way too close anyway.” the peacekeeper approached you after a while, grabbing your arm and sweeping you away before you could object.

     “coral!” she glanced up at you. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” coral took that as reason to get ahold of herself, suppress her vulnerability and impress the cameras tomorrow. besides, the cameras weren’t the only thing she wanted to impress. maybe, just maybe, if coral won the games she could have you too.

[m1xieup]

Vague and I mean vague spoilers for 97, like it’s probably fine to read this but I want to be sure

going insane over 97, I am tearing at the walls and ping ponging around my enclosure (room) at the speed of light. My crops are watered and my hunger for Nevermore grows exponentially. I am so so so so so excited for ep 98! I know it’s gonna be so good! :)

[qlala]

Long casefic mentioned: screaming crying tearing at the walls of my enclosure

listen I know I've been sooo lock and key about this one for years because I wanted it to be perfect before I posted any WIP snippets, BUT... 2024 we are all learning to say "death to perfectionism," so december 2023, I am also saying "After all, why not? Why shouldn't I share a little snippet?"

setting notes for the below: a CCPD precinct, a few months after Flashpoint. (If you never got there in the show, don't worry about it; Len doesn't know what it means, either.) Barry and Len haven't seen each other since Len tipped him off to the Trickster ambush the previous Christmas, and as far as Barry knows, Len has been off with the Legends ever since. (He hasn't been.)

It was fascinating to watch Snart pull the Captain Cold bravado around his shoulders, even with his hands cuffed to an interrogation room table and no parka in sight. He rolled his shoulders back, slouched down in the chair—as far as the cuffs allowed—and crossed one ankle over his opposite knee. Then he rolled his bored gaze insolently in Barry’s direction and raised an eyebrow. 

“Seems you have me at a disadvantage.” 

Barry realized his mistake, a moment too late; as far as the CCPD was concerned, he and Snart had never met.

“Right,” Barry said. He wasn’t an officer, so protocol was fuzzy on whether he was supposed to introduce himself to an... inmate? Had Snart gotten himself arrested again?

Snart’s smirk deepened at his obvious floundering, so Barry looked to Joe instead.

Joe gave him the same resigned look he’d just received from Singh, but unlike Singh, Joe took pity on him. He flipped shut the file he’d been reading, then slid it across the table toward him.

It came to a stop within inches of Snart’s fingertips, and Barry saw him test the cuffs covertly as if considering intercepting it. Barry picked it up before he could try, throwing him a knowing glare. 

Snart didn’t bother looking chastened. 

The file, Barry noticed, was thicker than most that passed through the CCPD. When he flipped it open and saw the FBI seal emblazoned on the front page, he understood why.

A paper clip held a picture of Snart to the next page: a recent shot, judging from the hints of gray in his hair. Barry started to turn the page, then became aware of the twin looks of apprehension he was receiving from Joe and Snart. When he glanced questioningly at Snart, he looked away, feigning interest in his handcuffs. Barry looked to Joe instead, and felt a prickle of uneasiness when Joe only shook his head, knuckles pale where they were wrapped around the back of the empty metal chair across from Snart.

Barry flipped forward in the file. The next few pages were background on Snart, with no major changes from what Barry had expected. He was familiar with Snart’s rap sheet already, and the psychological profile they’d drawn up on him was about as accurate as a tabloid horoscope. He did feel an old pang of guilt when he passed a memo noting the unexplained disappearance of Snart’s electronic files, but it was getting easier to brush that feeling aside every time.

Unsurprisingly, the medical records from Iron Heights were sparse. Several pages were entirely blank, but there was a scribbled correction stapled to the bottom of one, noting, of all things, a severe food allergy to pineapples. Barry couldn’t help but grin at that; for such a mundane detail, it had apparently only recently been wrested from Snart, and with great effort. 

He skimmed the rest of Snart's section. It was obvious that—tropical fruit allergies aside—the FBI knew less about Snart than he did. He pulled up short, however, when he turned to the next section and found another photograph clipped into the file.

“What is this?” He looked up at the answering silence, but Snart avoided his gaze, and Joe crossed his arms with obvious discomfort. “Joe?”

“Bartholomew," Snart interrupted, before Joe could answer, and Barry looked over at him in surprise. Snart gave him a slow, knowing smirk. “It is Bartholomew, isn’t it?” 

No one had ever said his full name with such obvious relish, and Barry seriously considered throwing back a Lenny just to see how he liked it. But he caught himself in time, and he bit back an exasperated sigh.

“How do you know my name?” he asked. 

It wasn’t very convincing, and a flicker of annoyance crossed Snart’s expression, obviously displeased that he wasn’t playing along with proper enthusiasm. Then the smirk was back, and Snart leaned back in his seat with an air of indifference. 

Barry watched him suspiciously; he looked far too in control of the whole situation despite being the one handcuffed to the table.

“Feds didn’t tell me much,” Snart said. “But this…” He dragged his gaze down and back up Barry’s body in a long, appraising look. “This, I can work with.” 

“Joe,” Barry repeated, pointedly ignoring Snart. There was a slightly hysterical edge to his voice, though, and Joe sighed and unfolded his arms. 

“What do you know about the Morellos?” 

Barry blinked; whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that. The name was vaguely familiar, and it took him a few moments to put together where he’d heard it before. 

“They’re an East Coast crime family,” he said, slowly. He looked to Joe for confirmation, and Joe nodded. “They practically ran Metropolis during Prohibition. Not much from them, since? I think they’re still active, but… they’ve mostly been pushed out by other Families.”

“Someone’s been listening to his podcasts.”

Joe didn’t so much as glance at Snart for the interruption, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Until recently, that was the case,” he said. “Members of the other Families have started dropping like flies, and the FBI thinks the Morellos are moving to take back power.”

Barry flipped through the file until he found a brief on the topic, and nodded for Joe to continue. 

“Last year, they worked out some kind of alliance with the Russian mob,” Joe said, “and now they control ninety percent of the heroin passing through Metropolis. The FBI couldn’t figure out what they were trading for that kind of power, until they realized the drug deals were lining up with major art thefts in the city.”

Barry glanced up from the brief, thrown by the apparent non-sequitur. “What would the Russians want with stolen art?”  

Snart snorted, and Barry turned to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Universal value,” Snart explained. He swept his palms in a broad gesture, though it was restricted by the limited reach of the handcuffs. “Markets crash, currencies fall. A Picasso stays a Picasso. And canvas is easier to smuggle than gold.”

There was a certain logic to it, though Barry suspected it was a lot more complicated than Snart was making it sound.

“And, what, you’re involved with this?” he asked.

Snart actually looked insulted. “Drug trade’s a nasty business,” he said, a curl to his lip despite his light, almost bored tone. “Messy work. Lotta bribes, lotta bodies. Hard to make a profit when the product keeps killing your buyers. Not my scene.”

“What’s this got to do with you, then?” Barry asked. He pulled the second picture out of the folder and held it up. “Or me?”

It was a copy of the photo from his CCPD identification. It was a few years old—his hair was longer on top, his shoulders a little narrower—and Snart’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Cute,” he said. 

Barry rolled his eyes and slid the picture back into the file.  

“Snart’s managed to get it into the FBI’s head that he’d make a good criminal informant. Apparently, he’s an expert in modern abstract expressionism,” Joe said, the last part clearly a quote. When Barry turned to him, surprised, Joe only shrugged. “I know. Surprised me too.”

“Learn all kinds of interesting things in my line of work,” Snart said, picking idly at the edge of his handcuffs. “Ab Ex dominates the market, has for decades. Post-War’s always in style. It's easy. People get it.” 

His fingers didn’t curl around air quotes; they didn’t have to, his voice going vapid in a way that almost, almost pulled a smile out of Barry. Leonard Snart, closet art snob.

 “Unspeakable horrors,” Snart continued, with a lazy, ‘and so on’ twirl of his fingers. “Expressible only through feelings over form…” He circled the gesture back the other way, with momentarily distracting, long-fingered grace. “Yada-yada-yada. Modern art fan, Bartholomew?”

He was having too much fun with the name, and Barry gave him a flat look for it. 

“Barry.”

Snart’s lashes dipped on another once-over before he met his gaze again, eyes sharp and amused. “Pleasure.” 

Barry didn’t need the way Snart leaned hard on the word, drawing it out even as his lips curled up at one corner, to tell him he’d walked right into that trap.

Snart lifted one hand and twisted the cuffs to extend the other out toward him, as close to offering a handshake as he could manage. “Leonard Snart. At your service.”

Doubt it, Barry thought. But he bit back the comment and crossed his arms instead, folding his hands pointedly against his sides, then said, “Yeah. I know.”

Snart’s eyebrows lifted at the slight, and he lifted both hands in surrender. “Ouch.” He dropped his lashes on a private smirk just to flick his gaze back up again, not finished with the taunt yet. “Thought we might have something in common. Civilian to civilian.” 

Even the decades-old camera in the corner could probably pick up the amount of irony dripping from Snart’s voice, but Barry’s warning glance didn’t deter him in the least. 

“What with you being an employee of the CCPD,” Snart said, tilting one hand in Barry’s direction before curling his fingers back to indicate himself, “and me being an employee of the FBI…”  

“Criminal informant's not an employee.”

Barry didn’t jump at Joe’s correction, but it was a near thing. What was it about Snart that made it so easy to forget that there were other people in a room? 

“Tomato, tomato,” Snart drawled. He didn’t so much as glance in Joe’s direction, attention still trained on Barry. “Feds want me to infiltrate the local underground in Metropolis, see if I can't rustle up a few Morello 'associates.’” That time, he did curl his fingers in quotation marks around the word. “I pass along the names, the feds arrest them. Everybody goes home happy.” He paused, then added, “Morellos excluded.”

Barry was tempted to ask Snart how long he’d been waiting for him to ask, but he had more pressing questions. “And you agreed to help, what, out of the goodness of your heart?” 

Snart leaned across the table towards him with a dangerous smile, handcuffs scraping pointedly over the metal surface. 

“Let’s agree to disagree about the goodness of my heart,” he said, and any lingering concerns that Barry might've had about Snart might not know exactly who he was disappeared at the private gleam in his eyes over those words. “But no. Feds had a little chat with the District Attorney here in Central City. Detective West knows the details, but—“ He drummed his fingers on the table, then ticked his head toward one shoulder in a shrug. “Like I said. Everybody goes home happy.”

When Barry looked at Joe for clarification, Joe shifted his hands to his hips before pulling his glare away from Snart, one hand settling pointedly beside his gun.

“The Mayor of Metropolis reached out to our governor," Joe said. "They’re talking pardons.”  

“Yahtzee.”

There were a hundred follow-up questions Barry could’ve asked. But Snart was clearly still enjoying himself too, and Barry wasn't in the mood for more roundabout non-answers. So Barry turned his back on Snart and faced Joe head-on. 

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “What's my role here?” 

“For the record," Joe said, slowly, almost placatingly, "I told Singh this was a terrible idea.”

Joe hedging was never a good sign, and for the first time, Barry felt the stirrings of real apprehension in his chest.

“You told Singh what was a terrible idea?” 

[leenfiend]

I am tearing at the walls because of the latest WUT. Screaming crying throwing up gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

slkndfawenf THANK YOU sorry for waiting to answer this until the next update went live. I hope u like this one too B)

[wings-of-ink]

i have so many thoughts and yet so little words available to me that can truly capture them but firstly, hello!!

oh my god where do i start….the beginning will do. i started and caught up in gc in two days and within one day i finished my replay. i finished this EXTREMELY detailed if 2x in the span of 3 days. ????? i’m speechless. i have zero words. i love this so much?? i love you and your brilliant brain what the heck????

the writing is impeccable, the characters are all so lovable i’m literally on the floor rolling around. AND THE WORLD LORE i’m a sucker for this stuff it’s so detailed, there’s quite literally a whole different world and i get transported in every damn time! the way mc’s hobby one way or another relates and contributes to their work,,,,, chefs kiss it’s so detailed i’ve been trying to dig up all the hidden details. like how my healer mc is good at doing stitches if she’s into needlework or how she soothes the patients if she’s into singing?? im in tears. i have devoured every crumb i could find and i feel like a caged animal at the zoo who’s shaking the bars of their enclosure to be let out every time i find something new. sorry does that come off as weird? im trying to convey how giddy this game has made me, its stewing in my head.

i feel like i’m bouncing off the walls and i’m so excited for chp4! i usually don’t comment or interact at all with creators because it’s kinda nerve wracking for me but as i said before the contents of this game has just been stewing far too much inside my cranium and i was ITCHING to say something 🙈 i might just loiter about and hang around as a little anony ghostie after this,,,,,,

aaaaa in short! you’ve rekindled my love for fantasy worlds with mountains worth of attention to detail and keep doing what you’re doing and thank you so much for gracing us with your work >_<

My toasted friend, you are way too kind and sweet (and delicious, I love brioche). I don't know what to say. I am so giddy that YOU are giddy over this! I am glad you send in your message, it lit up my day so much...and may have made my eyes a little misty (we'll keep that between us).

I'd be happy to have you haunt me! I love spirits and spoops! I can't wait to share more of the world with you, my dear. ^_^

[sweetronancer]

im thinking about nancy wheeler again. and also losing my mind. i am absolutely bouncing off the walls over here. clawing at the glass of my enclosure. gnawing at the bars of my cage. climbing the ceiling. jumping up and down. trying not to cry tears of absolute joy. nancy wheeler please come home, i miss you.

[mayonaisalspray]

BANGING ON THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE SHAKING RATTLING THE BARS TEARING MY PILLOWS TO SHREDS JUMPING UP DOWN ALL AROUND OH MY GODDDDDDD

THEY CANNOT LEAVE THSI BITCH ALONE IN ANY UNIVERSE AND I AM SO THANKFUL FOR IT!!!! GOD BLESS

[the-lavender-room]

Random blurb

what if: the gene cleanser only partly worked

Ft curt feeling bad bc he can’t help anyone

Spider-Man’s back hit the cold, hard ground of the enclosure. The frigid water drenched his suit, and the cold seeped into his aching bones and muscles. He was tired; felt the strange need to sleep now, but he couldn’t. He needed to hold out for a bit longer. For the gene cleanser to work.

The lizard stomped over to him, snarlingly. Spider-Man crouched low to the ground, ready to leap out of the way of any incoming attacks. It lunged at him with a low, guttural hiss. Spider-Man dodged froward; nearly avoiding its claws; the sudden pain and warm liquid let him know.

The lizard narrowed its yellow eyes. It screeched and shook its head violently. It wrapped it claws around its head and clasped to the ground with labored breaths. Spider-Man crawled closer; slowly. Large, brown eyes stared back at him. “Ss-spi…der…Ma-an?” His voice was slow and raspy and tired.

“Doctor Conners! Are you…with me?” Spider-Man yelped, putting his hands up in front of him. ‘He can talk now, but…’

He flicked his tongue out twice “I…th-think…so…” Conners rose to a crouch; eyes aimed at the ground and tail curled around himself. “I h-hurt you…”

Spider-Man place his on the still-reptilian-man’s shoulders. His scales are cold. ‘He’s still a lizard…’ “It’s fine, don’t need to worry about lil’ old me!” He joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“DAD!”

They both looked up at the small yell. Billy and Eddie were leaning over the railing; eyes big wide. Spider-Man helped the doctor up the wall. He sat still on the railing; rubbing his cold hands together.

Curt Conners reached a hand out to his son, but pulled back when he saw his own monster-ish claw; blood seeped in between the scales. That did not stop Billy for wrapping around him, tightly; tears staining Conners’s shirt. “I’m-I’m just glad you’re okay!”

“I am too…” Conners replied, bending down to fully embrace his son. His eyes burned with tears as he sobbed silently.

Spider-Man stayed for a while, even after Martha Conners arrived. It wasn’t until he heard the distance sound of sirens that he decided it was time to leave. ‘Go home, take a shower, wrap up my injuries, sleep until graduation…’

————————————————————————

It had been a week since the lizard incident, and since Peter and Gwen had been to the lab. Peter had decided not to use the pictures he took that night; not that the media wasn’t all over it the next morning. “Local scientist turns into giant lizard; fights Spider-Man in subway station!”

When they got to the lab; the entire entrance was swarmed with people and cameras. They pushed their way to the doors; where Eddie was there to pull them in.

“Oh, Peter, may I talk to you for a second…Privately.” Doctor Conners asked when he saw him. His voice still sounded a bit…hissy. Peter followed him to his office, though he could see Martha watching him. Intently.

They stood there in the dimly lit office, awkwardly staring at anything but each other. Conners looked at Peter and flicked his tongue out a few times, a bit too close for Peter, and sighed.

“Are…are you Spider-Man?”

“Uh!… what?! No!” He shuddered. “Why would you think I’m Spider-Man?” He asked, trying to sound as little suspicious as possible.

Conners looked away, a bit embarrassed. “You…uh… smell the same.”

“That’s creepy.” Peter remarked, leaning against the wall.

“I know.” Conners flexed his claws a bit. He looked between the sharp, black nails and Peter before asking. “Is your back okay?”

Peter sighed, “I already told you, I’m not Spider-Man!” He headed for the door; helping Gwen with organizing sounded really fun right now. “My back’s fine, my hand’s fine, I’m not hurt. Because I wasn’t in danger!”

“I didn’t mention your hand.”

Peter’s head slumped against the door, ‘I’m NOT getting out of this!’ He turned to look at the lizard man. “What do you want?”

“Do you need help? I… don’t remember much, but- I hurt you. I could’ve killed you…” he squeezed his tail; tears at the corner of his eyes. “…even if it’s medical supplies, please, just let me help you…”

“whoa, hay! I’ll think about the help! But please stop with the crocodile tears, I feel bad when people cry for me.” He placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “Just tell me your also be helping yourself.” The lizard nodded. “Did you tell anyone?”

“Just my wife.”

“Good, good. How is she taking… this anyway?” Peter gestured to Conners’s body. An attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

“Well, better than I thought at least.”



[adfeelsthings]

Tearing the walls off my enclosure . how am i supposed to be normal now