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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months

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We talk about how mischaracterized Hobie is - which he is - but I honestly think someone else is characterized REALLY weirdly by fandom

Miguel O'Hara and Misrepresentation of His Rage: a.k.a Miguel has Ken Energy you fools

[this is a breakdown where I examine Miguel's trauma, his relationship with Miles, his role in The Society, and his personality]

I talk a lot of shit about the Hobie tag, but the over-saturation of smut in the Miguel tag is at critical mass.

And like Latino-fetishization aside, I feel like he's not written as a human.

He's written so flat.

I swear ya'll be writing him as the angriest, coldest, most anti-social man on earth. Ya'll be having him rude and avoidant with no friends whatsoever or a romantic soft latin lover and NO IN BETWEEN

which is so funny cause like... I feel like Miguel is Just A Guy

I know they're easy to overlook but I think about moments like these all the time

But I ALWAYS see him written him as friendless, and cold, or constantly irritated and angry but like - I feel like most of the time Miguel is just some dude. Like in a Good Way.

And he's fine with that.

Miguel runs a Society Full of Spider-people, and they're working for him voluntarily. Peter Parkers wouldn't work for someone they didn't think was genuinely, good-likeable, and level-headed.

He compliments Lego-Spider-Man. When Hobie was there he wasn't pissed he was just like 'not in the mood rn ngl'

and Hobie didn't take the piss outta him - because I feel like him and Hobie have a mutal understanding/relaxed relationship. All throughout the movie Hobie isn't talking bad about Miguel in specific - he never says anything about Miguel being annoying or evil - he's always taking about The Society Miguel has made.

Even Hobie - who will openly talk bad about the PM, doesn't really feel the need to diss Miguel's character in specific. Which I find very interesting.

I think this, along with a couple other things shows that the way we view Miguel in fandom is not really how he is, like..when he's not going buckwild insane.

Miguel and His Role as Canon

I could see Miguel taking his role as boss very seriously - the same way he took being a father.

Miguel has assumed the role of 'leader' over these Spider-people. In his eyes, it's his job to lead these people through their canon events to the other side, for the safety of the universe, and for them to become the people fate says they're supposed to be.

Because he made the mistake of 'going against fate'. A lot of the time we say that Miguel's justification is 'because I suffered, you must too'. But in his eyes, it's more like 'I tried to run from who I was supposed to be and it blew up in my face. Please don't make the same mistake - it's not worth it.'

Quiet literally 'Do what you're supposed to do, and things won't fall apart around you.'

And I think that really says a lot about how he feels about his own choices, and his own daughter.

Miguel broke canon to be with his daughter, and because of that, she - and billions of others, died. And Miguel feels directly responsible for that. In his eyes, he killed his daughter and murdered billions of people.

And although he loves his daughter - he sees it as not worth it. He sees taking her father's place as a mistake.

To Miguel, canon events and the pain they cause are much more 'worth it' and 'tolerable', than the pain and guilt of killing an entire universe.

Because with canon events, there is no fault. It's not your fault you couldn't catch Gwen Stacy. It's not that you're not fast enough, it's that it's suppose to happen. It's not your fault.

But in Miguel's case - it was his fault. It wasn't suppose to happen.

That's why Miles sets him off in a way others don't and can't. Because he wasn't supposed to happen.

When things are under control, Miguel is fine. When things aren't, Miguel isn't.

Miguel needs order. He needs canon. Not because he likes it, but because he feels beaten into submission by it. He feels safe in the idea that canon events happen even if you do everything right, because he still feels the guilt of having done something 'wrong'.

That's why he sees letting people die in canon events as 'the right thing'.

It's the trolley problem.

A trolley is hurtling at someone you love, on the other track there are 5 people. Do you let the one you love die, or do you hit the switch and save them - and take the blame for killing five people?

What's the right thing to do? Save your captain father and letting a universe die? Or letting your father die, but the universe will for sure live.

Miguel has already made his choice, even if he didn't know it at the time. By becoming a father, Miguel hit the switch. And he chose his daughter at the expense of a universe. And he regrets that decision. He feels guilt, like he's to blame.

When canon events happen, there's no one to blame. When anomalies happen, there is.

Miles and Miguel

Miles and Miguel have an interesting and unique dynamic with each other, one that I haven't seen anyone mention yet.

When I look at Miles and Miguel, especially in this scene:

I kinda see Miguel and a past version of himself. Miguel trying to stop what he sees - as someone about to make the same mistake he did.

When Miguel met his daughter, he didn't know about it's threat to the multiverse. And although it might be described as the best time in Miguel's life, he regrets it. If he would go back, he would have rather let his daughter live. Fatherless, but at least she would have lived.

Miguel didn't know. But Miles does. And that's what makes Miguel so furious.

Miles is going to go against canon, be with his dad, and threaten the multiverse. And Miguel believes that if Miles does this, billions of people and beings across a universe will die. 100% totality rate, 100% assured.

Miles is in the same position as Miguel once was. Miles has the same choice. To choose the one he loves over canon.

The only difference is Miles knows. He has a chance.

Miguel believes that Miles can spare himself the pain, and the guilt of murdering billions - if he just listened to him.

Miguel is the only Spider-person who has ever killed a Spider-verse. And he doesn't want that for Miles.

Miles being an anomaly was one thing. He was ready to calmly talk about that. But when Miguel sees him going down the same road as he once did, making the same choice even though Miguel is telling him not to - it makes it snap.

Because if Miguel could go back, knowing what he knows - if Miguel could only be in Miles' place - he wouldn't. Like Rio said - Miguel would kill to be in his place.

He sees Miguel like how Rio describes herself, oddly enough. Rio says she'd kill to be in Miles place, and she doesn't understand his 'irresponsible' behavior. But unbeknownst to her - his 'irresponsible' behavior is more heroic than she can understand.

Miguel is just the same. He sees Miles' choice as irresponsible, that he's making all the wrong choices even though people are throwing opportunity at him.

Miles is the only other Spider-person to risk what Miguel risked. And, genuinely believing everyone will die because of this - he's furious at Miles, the same way he's still furious at himself. He loved his daughter, and he knows Miles loves it dad. But having been on the other side of it all, he sees it as not worth it.

Miguel wants to be the only Spider-man who is the way he is. He doesn't want to Miles to do what he did, become what he is. Because he knows theres no coming back from that.

If Miguel could go back and shake himself and scream in his face to leave Gabriella alone, to just leave her dimension alone, he would. But he can't.

So he does it to Miles.

Miguel as a Boss

I don't think Miguel is an outright mean or abrasive person. I feel like outside of Miles, he's fairly calm, albeit a bit stressed. I could see him being really organized and good at time management -

And I can see Miguel being good with people. I don't think he's the kinda boss that'd be like 'Oh, you had a canon event last night? Your girlfriend fell off a building? Yeah, we get that a lot, get over it.'

And if anything - I think he'd want to help the Spider-people when it comes to processing canon events.

Miguel believes that canon events are necessary, not just to the multiverse, but to the development of who Spider-people are 'supposed' to be. So I think he'd set up support systems around HQ to help them process it, and he'd at least be a bit understanding.

I could absolutely see Miguel as the type to ask a teammate "Are you alright?" after something intense, or telling them to sit out. I could see him giving generous leave for Spiders who are going through stuff.

By Jess's response, it seems as if he leaves most of that to her, but I feel like the fact he stops to tell Gwen "Don't worry, kid." shows that he's use to comforting people, or prioritizes putting people at ease.

I mean, what Spider-man doesn't?

Miguel does seem to get along with people (aside from Miles and Gwen when he's scolding her), and it seems like people do like Miguel.

Miguel's Personality

Tbh - I don't think he's nearly as angry as fandom makes him out to be.

He was raising a child. I imagine that for the most part, he's pretty patient.

Like if you call him a name, he's not gonna get pissed. I feel like he's more likely to be like "Haha. Very funny." Or just pinch his nose bridge and be like "You done?"

I mean I know with all the gnashing and clawing and yelling and going apeshit, it can be easy to imagine Miguel as JUST that.

But I also like to imagine that most of the time, he's just like that normal boss as Target.

And a lot of his day is spent doing boring mundane things.

He's not always standing there brooding over videos of him and his dead daughter. He only does that when he's psyching himself up to yell at Miles.

Outside of that, he probably has a lot more things to do, realistically speaking. Organizing missions, checking status reports, looking over intake forms of anomalies, okaying and vetoing different protocols. Approving new technology, taking complaints from members, dealing with Hobie (an extra job in its own right), fixing things MayDay breaks, etc, etc.

And he's completely fine with that. Maybe he even finds calmness in it. When there's order, and routine, and everyone is working together and there's no kinks in the hose per say, he can operate.

Like yeah he's a little irritated and looks like he only slept 4 hours - but he's here and he's going to work with his team and employees, make sure things run smoothly, and make sure everyone gets home safe.

He's gonna try and make the society a nice place to be and make sure people on the team (like Lego) feel appreciated and odd-one-outs like Hobie get to hang and do what they want without much kickback.

The other Spider-people - like Pavi - wouldn't have joined otherwise.

If Pavi had showed up and Miguel was all stern and cold and rude, he probably would've been like 'no thanks my friend'

Miguel knew Peter B. before he lost Gabriella. So he had to become friends with Peter some way. He was putting up with Peter and his humor by choice, and in return Peter must have found Miguel cool enough to hang out with.

I think it's because Miguel is good with people, a lot of different types of people.

He's pretty down to earth, even if he is a work-aholic. He can be fun to chill or hang out with, even if he's a bit of a tight-ass.

Sure his humor may be dry, and his personality tame, but he's just him.

But I can see him as being a guy who you see at the gym routinely and never say hi to but you just nod at each other in silent respect while doing your workouts sometime.

Or the dude at your job you only see at the coffee machine - you know he does other stuff, but you never run into him anywhere else.

Or the dude who'll stop on the street when you ask for the time and lift one earphone before telling you it, then walking away without another word.

DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN DO YOU GET THAT VIBE Like just Dude He's like a dad but not like a 'Dad vibe' with like sneakers or anything but like 'Dad who comes to PTA meeting but doesn't talk to anybody and quietly leaves when it's over'.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU UNDERSTAND THIS VIBE It's giving Ken.

Anyways stop avoiding Miguel's Kenergy.

#He's just Miguel #no proofread lol #Miguel O'hara #Miles Morales #atsv #Across the Spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderman #spider man #spiderman 2099 #atsv analysis #marvel

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teaboot · 21 days

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Forgive me if you’ve already answered something similar but how do you deal with crushing guilt when you did fuck up but there’s not really anything you can do to like make amends or you’ve already done anything you could and still feel guilty?

Like I know the guilt isn’t productive at all, if anything it’s just paralyzing me, and mentally beating myself up over it isn’t actually helping anyone. But I don’t know where to go from there. Idk how to actually forgive myself, or at least be able to move on

CW FOR SELF HARM

Okay, so this is something I've had to work through for a very long time myself, and there's a few different strategies that I've used to cope and process with varying levels of success.

What I used to do was handle the "I've ruined everything and hurt people and am never going to be forgiven" feeling by hurting myself in a number of creative and stupid ways, from physical hurt (Everything you'd expect) to mental hurt (wallowing, speaking badly of myself, going over the bad thing over and over again in my head) to passive hurt (neglecting my health, not eating properly, failing to pursue good living conditions, letting others hurt me, deliberately wandering into risky situations) and despite any short-term relief or peace I got, none of it ultimately fixed anything.

At the end of the day, making myself suffer as retribution or apology didn't fix the thing I'd done and didn't make the guilt go away, and all it gave me was an additional sense of shame and isolation because now not only was I a garbage person, I was a garbage person with something to hide from my loved ones. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

The stuff that DID help was harder and is going to sound stupid because *I thought it was stupid* until it worked for me.

First: Learn the difference between GUILT and SHAME.

GUILT is how you feel about your choices.

SHAME is how you feel about yourself.

"I was late to a date again, that was inconsiderate": GUILT. The issue can be resolved by analyzing the reason behind the action and planning steps to avoid repeating it in the future. Guilt is productive because it motivates us to improve our choices. Once you've corrected the behaviour, it's over.

A"I was late to a date again, I'm inconsiderate": SHAME. The issue can be resolved by asking ourselves:

What negative thing to I believe about myself?

What other experiences support this belief? What evidence do I have that the bad thing is true?

Do those previous experiences have anything in common? Where they actually proof of a personal lack, or did someone just tell me they were? Were my choices and actions understandable? Did I have a reason? Was I trying to hurt others, or was it a mistake, accident, or learning experience? Have I grown from that experience?

Can I forgive myself for the past? What do I need to do to forgive myself for those past events? Was I really at fault at all, or was it out of my control?

Accept that.

Your present traumas and shames often have roots in beliefs you had about yourself before the new shameful thing occurred. When you dig into resolving the issues that led to today, you can use those conclusions to work through tomorrow. This is something I learned in cognitive behavioral therapy.

There are a number of ways of unpacking these questions, but as I felt I was deliberately avoiding my thoughts and feelings, I chose to jump into them directly, and found it to be effective.

You can write things down, talk to someone, paint something, draw something, whatever. Whatever at all works for you.

My solutions was to find a comfortable place on the floor, sit down, close my eyes, and do box-breathing (in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4) while deliberately thinking about every upsetting memory attached to a specific bad belief that I could recall until I had nothing left to go over.

Judge and jury. Was I a bad person, or did I make a mistake? Did I have malicious intentions, or did someone accuse me of malicious intentions? Am I bad, or have I been conditioned to believe I'm bad? And at the end of it all, am I capable of better? Do I want to be better? And would a truly bad person care?

It was more emotional than I expected the first few times. Cried a lot, actually. But if I can liken it to a common feeling, it was like getting out of a very thorough shower and realizing you didn't know how dirty you were before.

The process sucks ass, no lie, but it's worth it. Like draining pus from a gnarly wound to get it healed up properly.

I'm not an expert, of course, but life has gotten better since I started. I'm better at forgiving myself, at least.

Also: Some people will never forgive others even for tiny things. Sometimes once you've done your best, you've just gotta say "fuck 'em". C'est la vie, mon amie.

Good luck, yeah?

♡

#Self harm cw #Guilt and shame

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chastiefoul · 9 months

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valentines gone wrong ft. childe, scara, and neuvilette

a/n: yes. you read that right valentines work on september!! this is just something random i wanna write one day when i'm lying down and ofc i can't wait until february next year (also how is it alr almost 2 months since i posted something???) tags: just fluff, light-read, and everything in-between, modern au (?) just don't think too much abt it hehe - summary: it's valentines and of course you have plans to give sweets to your lover. however because one thing and another, you had to entrust it to someone else in hope it will be handed safely to them. what happened when it didn't?

childe

you went home excited, anticipating his reaction to your handmade sweets, however what greets you at the door was a sulky childe, who avoided eye contact as if his life depended on it as he limits himself to a a sentence everytime you ask him something.

“something happened today, babe?” you asked him worriedly, the chocolate was the back of your mind seeing the state of your boyfriend in. “oh something definitely should have happened,” he quipped, his lower mouth sticking out slightly. “that sounds like a dig at me, did i forgot something?” you asked as you follow his gaze to what he thought must be the most interesting flower vase ever. he shrugged, refusing to give you more.

frustrated by his rejection to tell you what’s wrong, you held his face with both of your palm, turning his face to yours. although the move met no resistance, childe still refused to look at you in the eyes and only now his childish grumbles turned into such a sad expression.

“baby? please tell me what i did,” you were gentle with it, rubbing your thumb below his eyes. “...late.”

“what?”

“chocolate. where’s mine? i saw you gave your friends one so i don’t think im crazy to expect one too, especially as your boyfriend.” he pouted and you swore it looked so adorable and so out-of-character of him that you wanted to kiss him—wait.

“huh? but i did give you one!” you claimed, confusion rose inside you. “huh? but i didn’t get it...” childe’s face matched your expression. “well technically i gave it to scara to give it to you.. did he not... give it to you?”

“i wouldn’t be this insufferable if i got one, you know that, but no he didn’t say anything—and also really babe? scara? the guy who hates and made fun of me every chance he got?” he crossed his arm, raising an eyebrow, as he questioned your questionable decision-making. “hey give me a break, i was in a rush there thinking i couldn’t give you the chocolate in time. and he made me say please three times before he said he would consider doing it-oh i see how i was wrong there.” your line of ramble humbled you, the silence was loud.

“maybe he just put it in your bag or something?” you offered. “you really think he’s someone who’d do that?” he asked. “in desperate times i’d give even scara the benefit of the doubt,” you stated, opening childe’s bag. and there it was, put nicely at the very top, your chocolate for your lover.

you smiled, for all the shit-talk scara gave everyone on a daily basis you knew you could count on him. “see? i knew he’s actually a big softie for stuff like this.”

childe practically runs to your side. “my chocolate? aw babe so you really didn’t forget me!” he peppered kisses all over your face, then clasping the sweet to his chest like it’s a new-born baby. “of course i’d never. but maybe next year i’ll just give it directly to you.”

“yeah? please do, today’s event just wasn’t great for my heart.”

neuvilette

“welcome home, dear.” you greeted him cheerily as he just arrived home. it was quite late, and you had entrust the chocolate you were supposed to give to him at a reasonable hour so he could enjoy it instead of giving it to him at home.

he kissed your temple in return, a smile you’re still head over heels for on his lips. but it doesnt quite reach his eyes.

“what’s wrong?” you asked carefully. “nothing is wrong,” he replied, somehow looking nervous. “yet it’s strange for you to be looking so fidgety. tell me?”

“well,” he paused a little, stroking your hair as he pondered the best way to approach the sentence he’s about to say. “i saw you today giving chocolates to navia and wriothesley.. i couldn’t talk to you because i was in a rush to deal with an urgent case,” he said, not looking at you on the eyes. “oh, did that bother you? it’s just they’re such good friends of mine and it’s only friendship cookies-“

“no, dear of course not. i know you’re a loving person who always appreciate those around you, it’s just..”

“just?”

neuvilette looked like he didn’t hear the rest of the words after that you did make some for the white-haired male. a smile bloomed on his face as he shook his head. “no problem i will ask them about it tomorrow. i’m just delighted you kept me in your thoughts.” a gentle expression was loyal on his features. “well of course neuvillete, you hardly ever leave my thoughts, don’t you know?” he chuckled. “i’m familiar with that you see, considering you never leave mine as well.”

the next sentence was almost audible as he spoke. “do i not get one..?” he asked ever so softly sounding a little sad, his calloused hand ran across your arm, tracing along your vein as it touched your fingers and you're sure there's something wrong in your head because all you could think about that second was how adorable the usual charismatic man was being. yet you held your smile.

“of course you do! did it not reach you? i asked the guard in front of your door because i afraid i’d bother you at work hours. sorry neuvilette, i promised i made some for you, and i was so proud of it too...”

scara

“no i’m not.” he said, with the worst frown you’ve seen on him for a while and that’s saying a lot.

“you’re definitely sulking,” you said. “shut up,” he grumbled. “hey i was supposed to be one who’s doing the sulking. we’re nearing the end of the day and you haven’t even mentioned about the chocolate i gave you today!” you retorted out of frustration but most of all confusion because you had no idea what made your lover fall into such a bad mood.

“what.”

“what?”

“say that again,” scara said, “that i gave you chocolate?” you asked. “no you didn’t, you liar!” he complained, his frown deepened if that’s even possible. “wait what? i swear i asked childe to give it to you earlier today! i was ambushed by customers today at the shop so i was scared i couldn’t give it to you on time so i asked him. did it not get to you?” you explained.

“i came home empty-handed didn’t i? also really, that dense fool?” his displeasure was obvious upon the new information you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “don’t look so disgusted, he’s not that bad.”

“sure, although you know what’s bad? that i don’t have my chocolates right now.” he crossed his arm, fuming almost looking like a child who got their toys taken. “alright enough of your pouting. we’ll interogate him later. for now, i seem to have leftover ingredients, i’ll make you a new one.” you approached him, combing through the back of his hair as you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. he replied by pulling you closer as he nuzzled into your neck. “it better be good,” he mumbled.

at the end you didn’t even make it to 5 minutes before scara followed you to the kitchen, insisting that he made it together too because he was ‘watching over you so you don’t mess up’ but personally i think he just felt bad because you need to make a new one and wanted to help you any way he can. that’s something he’d never admit even if there’s a gun pointing at his head, though.

#genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin fluff #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #neuvilette x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff

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damagdsnow · 5 months

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Fix my reputation

Pairing: young Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look reliable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, fake dating, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play. eventual: smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praising public sex

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, eventual: mention of blood

Word count: 6.7k

Note: English is not my first language so if you see mistakes please feel free to correct me in the comments! It is also my very first time posting here on tumblr, I’ve always wanted to post my writing and finally I am now brave enough to do so, enjoy!

You hated that man.

If there was something you were sure about, it was that you didn’t want to be here with him, at the same table having lunch. You could feel his perking blue eyes staring into your soul even though he was not looking at you, he was meticulously cutting an apple with his long fingers and a shiny knife.

How did you get here? The man you so wholeheartedly hated, was now part of your life, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt like that apple he was cutting so carefully, peeling your skin, your essence, the way he was holding it seemed he was scared it could run away. You could run away.

The problem was, you would never run away. Run away to whom? To your mother who disclaimed you? To those friends who didn’t help you out? You had no choice. Now the only thing you had was your reputation ruined for a fatal mistake that could have been avoided. That was not enough, the only way to clean your image was to be with Snow. The charismatic, intelligent and kind Coriolanus Snow. Or this was what people said about him. What The Capitol said about him.

You didn’t think the same. You knew who he really was, you saw what they couldn't see. He was evil, he was the one who got the games so popular with his ideas, the one who didn’t mind sending children to death.

You and Coriolanus had only one thing in common. Maybe two or three. One of them was that you both needed each other’s influence in society for different interests. His strategy to win the elections included a woman by his side to make him look reliable and sensitive, but he mostly planned on taking advantage of your popularity to make his own name. You, on the other hand, just needed someone who could clean your reputation after a little incident.

Who better than the master manipulator Coriolanus Snow? You weren’t thrilled with the idea of spending time with him. But it was going to be just for once. The gala before the official beginning of presidential elections, the most awaited event in the Capitol.

The agreement was playing the part of two lovers who not by chance people already knew, his name was well known. Yours? Still on the news. It was just a ball, you could do a night of pretending.

“Tigris said you haven't tried your dress on yet,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, and you looked in his direction to see his expression.

He still had the apple in his hands and he was cutting it in half-moon shapes, he took one bite in his mouth and he directly stared at you while chewing. You tried to hide your disgust as Snow's eyes met yours, his smile sending chills down your spine. It was as you had imagined, or even worse, you felt his blue eyes dissecting you in pieces, like he was examining you, looking for your deepest secrets. You knew that staying calm and composed in his presence was crucial.

“I don’t want to, it fits me.” You didn’t even look at that dress, it was even sent to your house but you refused to open the box knowing that he chose it.

“I hope it will,” Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes off of yours. “At least try to read how you should answer the questions, many people will be there,” he then said while standing up from his chair. His tall frame loomed over you, and you couldn't help but shiver under his intense gaze.

“Are you giving me homework to do now?” you said, looking up at him.

“I’m simply providing you with some advice,” his voice tinged with subtle amusement. “Oh, you think it’s going to be simple after all you did? “The Capitol won’t forgive you easily,” then he walked away, leaving you alone in the dining room.

This day felt longer than ever. The morning before you had received a letter from Snow’s manor telling you that someone was going to pick you up to prepare you for the event. It was signed by his publicist, Iris. You met her a couple of times before: a well dressed woman who knew too much about anyone's business in the Capitol. It was her idea to have lunch with him, “just to get to know each other more,” she said, but for you it was just a reminder of his real personality. They even gave you a room for the day, two chambers away from his, quoting Iris’s letter “this way you can feel comfortable,” you thought she was too attentive and kind to work for someone like Snow.

Iris was the one convincing you to take part in this gala, she explained to you that someone cherished like Coriolanus would draw the attention away from the scandal. You two just had to pretend to be together, “the Capitol loves unexpected new couples,” the publisher said to you the first time you saw her, “the young aspiring president and the woman everybody talks about.” Iris was convinced that this way Coriolanus was seen as the devoted partner who wasn’t afraid of your bad reputation, and you as the woman ready to rise from the ashes.

You ran into your room and slammed the door so loud you hoped he could hear you. You found a big envelope on your bedsheets, and you hoped it was some sort of -hey remember the incident? It’s not your fault, everything it’s okay!-thing, but unfortunately, it was not a free pass to the world. It was a sheet listing all possible answers to some questions you might be asked today at the gala. It was like a script to follow to save your face, to look good in front of the cameras, in front of the-very-judging-elitè. In that sheet, you could find any imaginable question they could ask, where your dress was from or who your family were.

“Did you do that on purpose?” It was one of the questions, and you thought this was something Snow would ask you. He didn’t say a thing about what you did, in the few times you talked he never asked you directly about the scandal. He could have wanted explanations, the real version of the story from you, but he never said a word. You read the answers on the sheet, and they were all perfectly written, so meticulously explained using the Capitol-vocabulary, elegant words and a candid tone.

“How did you meet Mr. Snow?” Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t consider being asked about your fake relationship with him, it was all new to you.

“…it was love at first sight, who couldn’t love an extraordinary man like him, I immediately fell in love.” You had to read the full answer twice to be certain you weren’t hallucinating.

You would never have said those words, never in a billion years, not even under torture, of course you were ready to lie, but lying to this level? It was too much. You knew it was him who wrote this answer, you imagined the grin on his face while typing those words about him. You were mad. The answers about your dating life with Coriolanus were filled with romantic moments and exaggerated gestures that made you feel uncomfortable reading their unrealistic nature. You tried imagining those things happening in real life, but it felt completely alien and artificial. It was difficult to believe that anyone could genuinely experience those events. With Coriolanus mostly. You read the pages, over and over, a book would have been better because there was too much to read, but instead, you were stuck with a bunch of printed documents detailing your supposed love story.

He also put dates on when things happened: your first date in the lake house in July, the time you had dinner in a fancy restaurant in August and the day you moved in his place. Lies. Lies. Lies. Apparently you officially started dating three months ago. Three? You scrolled over the pages, hoping not to read what you were thinking.

“…after the incident, Coryo was very supportive, always there to comfort and reassure me even though all I did. I felt like I betrayed him too, but he always said we could get through it together, and I found myself falling for him all over again.” You knew none of this ever happened, and yet here it was, staring back at you in black and white. It was as if the words were playing tricks, as if the words were there to pretend instead of simply put on paper.

You sighed and closed the file, feeling a mix of frustration, confusion, and irritation. He was never there for you. Nobody was. You were all alone. After that day, you cried every night, and you were the one reassuring yourself, lying in front of the mirror saying ‘it’s going to be okay’ while your sense of guilt was slowly eating your guts. He wanted to appear like the perfect partner, but you knew the truth. It was all a façade. Deep down, you knew the real him, and it took all your strength to acknowledge the reality. You threw the stack of files on the floor, it was all too much.

You got up from the bed, and you went directly to his room, determined to confront him about the distorted reality that had been painted in those files. You didn’t even knock on his door, and you felt surprised when you noticed it wasn’t locked. You open the door, and you close it from behind, entering the room. He was standing close to his bed, completely oblivious to your presence. It was like he expected you to burst into his room out of nowhere.

“You finally read the file,” he said, looking at his wrist without making eye contact.

He was focusing on buttoning his cuff links, his fingers fumbling with the buttons, his white shirt still open and his blonde hair wet from the shower. His normally confident demeanor was replaced with vulnerability as he waited for your response, the tension thick in the air. It was the very first time you saw him not perfectly dressed up, without styled hair and shiny shoes. The sight of him standing there, so different from his usual self, caught you off guard.

“Yes, I’ve read your fabricated tale,” you said, trying not to look at him, at the droplets of water sliding down his temple, his fingers still struggling with the shirt. “You should have become a fiction book writer, you got talent.”

"I just wanted to impress you," he admitted, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can see I got a reaction from you,” he definitely succeeded in catching your attention, with those iper-articulated lies, not even close to what really happened.

“The agreement was that I won't say anything bad about you, just be by your side as a trophy-fake-girlfriend in this stupid gala, inventing absurd stories won't win my reputation back," you said firmly, crossing your arms.

He reached his desk where there was a glass of some alcohol sloshing around, poured himself a drink and took a long, deep swig. “They won't believe you if you only stand by me like a mannequin, you have to be an active member of their social life, so they can get to know you, sympathize you and maybe forgive you,” he said in a calm tone, you could see his profile while he was again drinking from his glass, his shirt still open that showed his toned body.

You immediately looked away taking a deep breath. “I won't be a part of any false narrative you wrote,” was the only thing that came to your mind.

He scoffed his head, “Just for the period of the presidential campaign, nothing more.”

“Are you suggesting that this ridiculous act is going to take longer than just a day?”

“I know you don’t like me, you just need to pretend you do. I’ll do the same,” he took another sip of that liquor while looking at you, “the publicist said just one appearance at the gala isn’t going to be beneficial to either of us.”

“Why are you telling me this now? The plan was slightly different,” you said

“Oh I knew you were going to be reluctant about the idea of pretending to live here, just for show,” he was serious, his fierce eyes looking at you waiting for a reply.

“I almost tolerated your presence at work, and now you want me to live in the same house as yours?” You asked

“After the gala, they are going to focus on the ‘new couple’, our performance has to be something they really believe in,” he leaned his head at the same height as yours, “we already don’t have that chemistry, at least they are going to think we live together,” Coriolanus said to your ear, his curls brushing your cheek.

“I simply decline your proposal, find someone else.” You said with a fake smile.

“Didn’t journalists harass you every time you left your little apartment? How exhausting, isn’t it?” He whispered in a sarcastic tone, making you remember all those times you ran away from photographers. “I got peacekeepers here, no one is going to bother you anymore, as long as you don’t bother me,” he turned to the desk, placing the empty glass in a tray, “strangers in real life, lovers on the outside.”

“The problem is that I despise you, I cannot do this for one more day,” you couldn’t see his expression, just his white see-through shirt displaying his back muscles.

“No, the problem is that you don’t understand how fucked up your situation is,” he was now facing you, “I know people who were condemned for way less, you are lucky,” his words were sharp as blades.

“Lucky to have you? It’s a punishment,” you said and he laughed.

“Then don’t come at me crying at why people still hate you,” he took a few steps closer to you

“So you can comfort me like you did a month ago?” You asked him pointing out the most absurd lie in that file.

“Oh, so you read every single page, you really did your homework.”

You stood your ground, refusing to be manipulated any longer. He was doing that purposely, just to provoke you, saying those things just to see how far you could take. Coriolanus was looking at you with his piercing gaze, attempting to intimidate you, he expected you to buckle down and crumble in front of him, but you would never give him such satisfaction, you were already in hell, so why not play with fire?

“Why me?” you asked him, and you saw a sense of surprise in his eyes. “Why, of all the girls in Panem, you decide the only one who can give you trouble?” You took a step closer to his figure, “there are so many good girls from rich families and intact reputations, why me? I’ll just ruin you.” You said, trying to catch his eyes looking back at you. But you could only see his frowning eyebrows, his wet messy hair and a droplet of water trailing down his neck, you were so close to him, you could hear him breathing.

“Everybody knows your name, bad press is still press,” his eyes finally met yours. “You are the center of attention,” he took a step back, as if momentarily distancing himself from the tension. “The presidential elections are extremely competitive, it’s not a race for who’s superior to whom,” he licked his lips, “but who is going to perform better for these people looking for distractions. “We are going to be their little show”

“So tell me Coriolanus,” you stepped closer as you were before. The height difference was such that it made you look up at him, you took one side of his shirt in your hand and you buttoned up with the other, feeling his warm torso on your fingers. "How exactly do you propose to fix my reputation while bolstering your own?” you finished, a sly smile dancing on your lips and your eyes looking for him.

Coriolanus was looking down at your fingers still brushing his skin, he had his lips parted and he softly whispered, “just play the game,” his eyes still fixed on you. He was talking about making everything right again, but it felt like there was something more behind those words.

You stepped back, trying to compose yourself. “I’m just giving them another reason to hate me with this bunch of lies,” you were looking down at the floor when you heard him stepping closer to you. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on your face.

He lifted your chin with two fingers and made you look up at him, “I’ll make them fall for our lie,” he said, his voice was so deep and calm.

“You are a master manipulator,” you whispered back, looking down again as if the floor was more interesting than the man standing in front of you.

You heard him chuckle, and he leaned closer to your ear, “and I’m going to teach you how to be one too.”

Your first public appearance after the scandal was going to be at this gala. Everything was calculated in detail, the dress you wore had to be long and white, as pure as snow. Your hair had to be loose so it could cover your exposed back, and apparently you had to memorize pages and pages of answers you could give. After your intense conversation in his room you decided to play the game seeing how far you could take, how far you would do to take everything back. He wanted you under his spell, he was trying to shape you how he desired, for his own interests.

“Dear, why aren’t you dressed yet?” The publicist said to you while you were sitting on the smooth sheets of your bed. You had your bathrobe still on, it’s been thirty minutes since you had a shower but you had your head in the clouds.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Coriolanus, his wet hair, the words he said to you, his naked torso, his manipulating eyes. You repeat to yourself that he was Coriolanus Snow, and not any man, he probably told you half the strategy he really had in mind. Being with him was like playing chess blindfolded, you had to trust him but he could mess up your moves, change your plans.

“Come here I’ll help you,” Iris said, she seemed like a good person, she had a comforting smile and an elegant manner with everything she did. She was wearing a short coppery-brown color dress, it was shiny as her nails, decorated with tiny gold stones. You took her hand and you stood up, making the bathrobe fall on the carpet. The silk of the dress soothed your skin like a petal, you looked at the mirror and the weak light coming from your window gently reflected on your bright dress, almost making it shine.

“It is really pretty,” you said astonished while turning to see your exposed back. Then your smile disappeared because you remembered it was him who picked the dress.

“You are making it pretty, my darling,” Iris stated as she fastened the zip on your side. It was a simple dress yet delicate and impressive, it embraced the shape of your body effortlessly.

“It is just a little loose here on your waist,” the woman said, touching the excess fabric on your side. You remembered the conversation early this morning when you proudly said the dress fitted you.

“I’m going to tell Tigris to fix it,” Iris said and you immediately looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“No please,” she changed her expression, “it is bad luck to mend a dress the same day it is worn,” your mother always said that to you, maybe it was not a popular saying considering the publicist's face.

She tilted her head with a confused smile as she touched the yellow-butterflies-clip in her voluminous red wig. Now that you were thinking about it, you sewed your skirt the day it happened, ‘it’s just a coincidence, I don’t believe in these things’ you said to yourself, you were not superstitious but at the same time you avoided superstitions, just in case.

“Whatever you want,” Iris said with a soft smile.

You touched your neck and you thought how a shiny pendant would look good. “Iris, do we have some necklace to match this dress?” She stepped closer to you looking at your chest.

“I think you shouldn’t wear any jewelry tonight,” you tilted your head in confusion, “see, today is your first appearance after the,” she paused, “incident.”

“And what is it supposed to do with jewe—“ she didn’t let you finish your sentence.

“You could wear pearls or diamonds but what would the elite think? That you want to appear, that you want to show off,” she walked behind you so you could see her reflection in the mirror. “How you present yourself is the way they perceive you,” Iris brushed your long hair on the side, exposing your neck, “you are wearing a white dress, ‘how pure!’ No diamonds, ‘how modest!’ “try to think like the socialites, once you enter their minds, your act will get a standing ovation”. Her words put everything in a different perspective, she really knew what she was doing.

You heard a knock on the door, “the party starts in an hour!” A muffled voice said from the corridor.

“Thank you Ariandes, we’re almost done!” Iris said in a loud tone.

In less than sixty minutes you had to put on your best mask and try to change the mind of a thousand people about yourself, with Coriolanus by your side, pretending he is your supportive lover. You felt a rush of anxiety on your chest, like a weight pressing against your heart.

“I don’t think I can go,” you whispered with a trembling voice. Iris made a worried look.

“Oh sweety, I can only imagine what you have been through,” she took a lilac glass flask from the desk beside the mirror, “you are a strong woman,” she sprayed a lavender fragrance on your neck and she smiled.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and with all your strength you tried to keep the tears that threatened to spill over. “Iris, how do I fake being so interested in someone?” You asked, thinking about what was written in that file.

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked with a soft gaze.

You didn’t know the answer to that question, you had a couple of boyfriends in your university years, but were you in love?

“It’s when every atom of your body's only desire is to burn at the mere thought of being with that someone,” Iris looked up, like she was thinking of somebody, you felt even more disoriented with her answer.

You couldn’t identify that feeling with anyone, you’ve never met someone that made ‘your cells burn’. What would that even mean, you thought.

The door opened and you turned your head to see Ariandes, the political advisor, “We gotta go,” he said looking at Iris. The man had his hair pulled back in a long braid, dark as his skin. You walked in his direction and you followed him.

The moment you stepped into the car you felt a sudden tension, it was dark outside, only one side of Coriolanus’ face was lit up by cars passing by. He was wearing a red coat that covered the rest of the outfit, his blonde locks were lightly falling on his temples and you noticed he was wearing a ring on his left index finger.

“Act as natural as possible,” Coriolanus said and he looked at you, it felt like he was inspecting your body and you wished to be in his mind at that very moment.

Was everything going according to plan?

No, you didn’t want to know what it was like to be in his head, it was torturing enough being on the outside.

“I’m not very good at lying,”

‘not as good as you’, you wanted to say.

He looked at you like he read your mind, luckily you couldn’t see his expression. “Don’t be impulsive, smile and never leave my side,” you felt he was giving you orders, “what 's going to happen at the political campaign depends partially on today’s gala.”

“You know, Mr. Snow,” you started “I tried reading your fiction-book but it was so,” you tried examining his face, “unrealistic,” he scoffed and looked the other way, “you want me to paint you as the man you aren’t and never will —caring, affectionate and respectful “I can’t do miracles, people won’t believe my lies forever.”

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, “at least the whole Panem doesn’t hate me,” he said close to your face.

“Yet,” you added, hoping to maintain eye contact one more second.

“And just a reminder,” he said, “without me you would have been at home, crying and begging for forgiveness,” he whispered in a bitter tone in your ear.

“And without me you wouldn’t have the attention you crave so much,” you replied, feeling the tension in the air.

Coriolanus was too close to you, like an animal before hunting his prey, you could see his facial features reflecting the weak light outside. The engine stopped, and the driver opened the car door.

“Mr. Snow” he said and Coriolanus stepped out of the car, he didn’t even look at you.

‘He would slam the door in my face if he could’, you thought.

You took the driver’s hand, helping you get out with your long dress. Coriolanus took his maroon coat off and he gave it to an avox at the entrance. You could see him from his back, he was wearing an ivory jacket and trousers, his suit matched your gown. He calculated every single detail. Unexpectedly, Coriolanus waited for you as you stood by him in the hall, he extended his arm and you looked at him.

“Do I have to?” You asked and you noticed a white rose on his breast pocket.

“It’s just an act,” he replied and you took him by the arm.

Let the play begin.

The ballroom was lit by magnificent chandeliers and the air was filled with whispers and laughter. The atmosphere was comforting and energetic: people with colorful wigs, glitter dresses and sugary drinks. There was not a face you could recognise, it was not what you were used to, even though you have been living in the Capitol for all your life, you’ve never experienced a party like this. You walked through the crowd with Coriolanus by your side, arm by arm, while everybody was looking curiously at your direction. You’ve heard someone saying his name, and something about the girl he was walking with.

Why her? Since when does Snow have a girlfriend? I’ve heard really bad things about that woman.

And there it was, the gossip, the uncertain glances and how they looked down on you. On the other hand, people were praising him.

He’s so charming! White suits him well! Future president of Panem.

You looked at Coriolanus, the warm light was making his eyes brighter, or was it the crowd? He looked at them so proudly, with a confident smile, he was living for that moment, being the center of attention. He met your gaze, then his blue eyes looked at your dress, but not the same way people did.

It felt different.

Was he judging?

Admiring maybe? It was a mystery, nothing was black or white with him.

Coriolanus greeted a couple of his acquaintances, introducing you as his partner, then calling you his date and it once slipped from his lips calling you his girlfriend. And you actually were, in that moment, you had to act as his beloved girlfriend who had a well known bad reputation. He never let your arm go away, he was acting so well, playing the caring boyfriend who couldn’t leave you alone.

“Here they are, the couple of the night!” A loud voice came from behind, it was Flavius Windbuzz, one of the most famous tv hosts in the Capitol. His voice was recognisable from miles away, it didn’t matter if you watched television or not, he was everywhere and it was impossible in Capitol City not knowing his name.

He stepped closer to you with a glowing smile and a glitter microphone, he had his hair gray, more like silver. “Everybody is talking about you, the new Capitol lovebirds,” a camera was pointing at you and your heartbeat was getting faster, everyone stopped talking and stared at you both. “So tell me Mr. Snow, who is this young lady you are showing off?”

“You said it right Flavius, she is my girlfriend,” he did it again, Coriolanus said girlfriend, this time broadcast on tv.

“What a pleasure to meet you,” the host said to you, he took your hand and kissed it. These exaggerated gestures were the usual in this type of parties, especially where a silver-haired-man was interviewing the guests. He asked about your family, if you liked the food —you didn’t touch any but you lied, and who was the designer of your dress, everything as the script said.

“Honey, you are a really interesting woman but I have to ask you something,” Mr. Windbuzz said, “people are talking and it is my job to satisfy their desires. “So tell me, are the rumors true?”

You expected a much worse question, you stopped breathing for a moment and Coriolanus noticed that because you tightened the grip on his arm. “You tell me Flavius, what do the rumors say?” You answered with a soft smile hiding your discomfort.

“I know that during the last edition of The Hunger Games, something really unfortunate happened,” you noticed he had purple contacts on, and that was something that made you even more nervous. “Is it true that you took part in the incident we all saw live on TV?” He asked and you felt like your heart was beating outside your chest.

“It is true,” the crowd gasped, and your pulse increased.

“So tell me, how did it feel when you killed those poor and innocent tributes?” The question was worded differently than what you read on that file.

Killed.

Poor and innocent.

You couldn’t get out of your head their lifeless faces, the foam coming out of their mouths and the sound of the cannon echoing in that room. The hall started spinning, you saw the interviewer’s face, a mix of compassion and concern, as the crowd started whispering more and more you felt your head cold and heavy. The microphone was pointing in your direction but you could not even stutter a syllable, blank pages wandered in your mind and you felt a sense of emptiness. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned your dizzy head to see Coriolanus who started talking for you.

“She was more than devastated, I remember—, ” you saw his lips moving like the time had slowed down and you were not listening to his words, his voice echoed in your ears as you never took your eyes off of him.

His grip on your shoulder tightened and his eyes looked at you as he tilted his head suggesting you both could go away. You followed him even though your ears were still ringing and your sight blurring, Coriolanus was walking too fast so you took his hand in yours or you could really faint on the ground. At that action, he looked at you with a confused stare, his hand grip was firm and steady as he dragged you in the bathroom. After checking no one was in there, he leaned against the door so no one could step in. You stood in front of him, his curls falling on his forehead that was a little sweaty, then he began talking, but the sound of his words were just an intense ring in your ears. He placed both his hands on your cheeks trying to have your attention, and you woke up from your hypnotic state.

“They are just hypocrites, they are the ones who watch The Hunger Games on tv, they send money to help their favorite to kill.” Coriolanus said looking in your eyes, and you started sobbing. “They are not better than you, “stop crying and play their game.”

You felt the warmth of his hands on your skin, he never touched you this way, it was intimate, nothing you could expect from him. For a moment, you brushed your hand with his but he instantly removed it, walking away from your sight.

“He was too indiscreet,” you heard him whisper, “I should’ve expected that from him.”

“No Coriolanus, I should’ve expected this question,” your voice was still trembling, “you said it wasn’t going to be easy, I deserve this, “do you still think this act is a good idea?” You asked him.

His tall figure leaned against the green tiles of the bathroom, he had his hands on his pockets and he was looking down, thinking about who knows what. Now that you were seeing from a distance, he resembled an angel. His white suit, his blonde curls and the perking blue eyes. No, there was nothing pure and heavenly in him. You thought he was probably thinking about how you ruined his plan, how he had to intervene to save your umpteenth failure and he was now calculating another strategy.

‘Not an angel, a fallen angel, the next Lucifer of Panem.’

“The night is still young,” he said while stepping to the door. He didn’t answer your question, was he regretting meeting you?

Everything was as you left it. The party was still going and no one seemed to have noticed your panic attack. That was a relief. You tried distracting yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before. The interview, the crying, his hands on your face. Everything was worse than you had expected. You and Coriolanus were in the hallway next to the massive columns that supported the ceilings, on the other side people were dancing to a classical melody. You wanted to stay there, outside their sight, because to you the dance floor was more like an arena where people were going to attack you.

“Shall we?” Coriolanus extended his hand suggesting to go dancing with him.

“I’m not good at dancing, I could step on your feet,” you hoped it would’ve been enough for him to give up.

“I’ll take the risk.” That was his plan, acting like nothing happened and putting his best smile on to be the charming man everyone adored.

You took his hand, the same hand that wiped your tears off your face was now intertwined in yours. Every time you looked for an excuse to not like him. As if you had to remind yourself that you hated him. Did you? He was dancing with you so naturally, holding you like you had known each other for a very long time, his hand on your waist as if he was used to it. There was nothing evil in him on the outside, and that was the problem.

“I’ve just saved your face, thank me later.”

You rolled your eyes at Coriolanus’ words. “I’m used to humiliations so next time don’t bother yourself.” you replied.

“Oh but I’m not used to it and don’t worry, there will be no next time.” Without a notice, he made you twirl around.

“When will this thing end?” You asked annoyed.

“I hate it as much as you,” he pushed your waist closer to him, this way you were face to face, noses touching.

“What the fuck Coriol—,”

He interrupted you, “for the cameras.”

You turned your head and you saw a bunch of flashes, blinding your sight. Coriolanus leaned over you and your lips were brushing, you couldn’t push him away because of the photographers. You had no time to tell him something, that he kissed you. It was for a second, just one second where your lips touched. It was cold, dry and unexpected. Just like him. Snow by name, snow by nature. If only eyes could talk. You’d probably say to him how you wished you weren’t there, with him, and you wondered what his blue eyes would say to you, probably the same. After that moment, Coriolanus didn’t say a word to you. You were there, smiling at photographers hoping to drop your mask as soon as they’d left.

The rest of the night went according to plan. Flavius interviewed all the future candidates and Coriolanus had the opportunity to make his well prepared speech, he also got invitations from influential members close to the president Ravinstill, not to mention the many sponsor offers he had. At least something was going well, for him though. The ride back home was painful. You and Coriolanus were looking outside the window, his crimson coat was the only barrier separating your bodies.

“Did they ever tell you how bad you are at kissing,” you hated silence so much you could say the stupidest things that came to mind just not to hear your thoughts. You turned your head to see him and his eyes were already on you.

“Mhm, girls usually compliment me for other qualities,” he chuckled, “and then that wasn’t me kissing, remember it’s just for show,” he whispered looking at the driver hoping he wasn’t paying attention.

“Well, no one believed your poor attempt to look in love,” you said and he untied the knot of his white tie.

“I was caught off guard,” he said looking at you, cars speeding in the window behind him, “and I can’t just kiss how I would normally do.”

You tried not to laugh at his words, ‘what would that even mean?’ you thought. “Just try to convince them, because you didn’t even convince me.”

“How should I kiss you then?”

He put his hand on the back of your head, with his thumb brushed your temple and he pulled you closer, his lips touching yours softly. You knew what was going to happen, but you let him do it.

The way he kissed you, like he was starving for your lips, hungry for your taste. Was he the same man that kissed you before? You melted in his touch, his hand slided down your neck, his fingers pressing on your throat, making you shiver even more. He tasted like mint and posca, his hair smelled of roses and his skin was warm under your touch.

Coriolanus pulled away from your lips but you came closer to cut the gap separating you. It felt like an instinct, like you were not satisfied enough and you could feel a sense of heat down your core. He pulled away the coat that was between you and his other hand was now on your exposed back, keeping you closer, his tongue still dancing dangerously with yours as you intertwined your fingers in his locks.

“Coryo” you said between kisses.

He wasn’t intending to stop and neither did you, but you remembered who was the man who was holding you that way, whose hands were making you shiver, whose lips were making you want for more and what nickname you just whined.

“I think we should,” you managed to say, trying to stop yourself from doing something you were going to regret. You broke the kiss, his lips were swollen still too close to yours.

He whispered, "I told you, I can be convincing when needed.”

🦋 A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, let me know what you think in the comments! I’ll probably explain the details of the scandal and how they met next time, it’s way more than you can imagine from here. Also I KNOW there is no smut here, but bear with me, it's a slow burn and trust me in the next chapter I’ll add some ✨ spice ✨. In this first chapter I wanted to set up the atmosphere.

A special thanks to Freddie Mercury and the song “Play the game” that helped me when I was stuck, to the poet Taylor Swift who reminded me of the many ways you can say the color red. PLEASE let me know if you want to be tagged next time 💌

ask me questions here !

@gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @badbussylol @gracieroxzy @coolcatyarb @coriosgf @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @wearemadeofstardust0

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #slow burn #enemies to lovers #young coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coryo smut #coryo snow #coryo x you #tom blyth #the hunger games

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for venting to my friend about my fiancée?

I (24M) have been with my fiancée (26NB) for about 3 years now. I try to avoid venting to my friends about it when I’m having little relationship annoyances because I used to do that for a while and it ended up with them just getting a horrible image of her because when good things happen that make me happy I would be responding IRL with my fiancée or gushing about it publicly e.g. on Twitter which most of my friends don’t use, vs when bad things happened I’d go to them to vent directly so they were only seeing the shitty moments. They would just always tell me she sucked or to break up with her which just wore on me because I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t think I need to. Our relationship is super affectionate, has helped me massively in improving mentally and socially and in my confidence, makes me genuinely happy, and is for the most part, with certain problems we’ve been working on aside, healthy.

It’s not a communication issue or anything, I’ll address any issues with my fiancée directly as well and we’ll resolve it between us, just sometimes I’d feel the need to vent out my upset first while calming down or talking through what to say to her before I brought it up etc.

However this changed recently. my fiancée has always been a very physical person, she’s cuddly and loves kisses and just general touching, and that also translates into her playfully hitting me a lot, which I’ll do as well. Smacking each other on the ass when we pass each other, jokingly hitting each other’s arms (gently) when we’re making fun of each other, stuff like that. Very occasionally this will bother me (the other day she pinched my face hard enough that it hurt for like 20mins afterwards) but for the most part I genuinely could not care less and I take it as all in good fun.

She has never hit me in anger before, until today. She was playing a video game and died, and I laughed while sitting next to her when I saw it, and she just turned around and hit me full force. Like, harder than she’s ever hit before, and causing genuine pain. Usually I would just brush it off because like I said she hits me in a joking way a lot, but when I kind of gave a startled “ow” she just looked at me and hissed “Don’t laugh” through her teeth and she looked genuinely pissed off, and the force behind the hit just caught me completely off guard. It was also very very sudden because we’d been talking normally and light-heartedly, had even been cuddling a few minutes before, and although she was pretty clearly exasperated at the game (sighing, saying “oh my god” when the fight was going downhill) I didn’t think it was serious anger, so her abruptly whipping around and hitting me like that was so sudden and whiplashy I didn’t even have time to register it.

I have PTSD (C-PTSD? don’t remember what the specific diagnosis was) from my last relationship which was abusive in pretty much every way you can think of, and one of my biggest triggers that has been relevant in this relationship as a result of it is raised voices/anger around me (not necessarily At me, just like when my fiancée is getting frustrated or stressed and she’ll start hitting her keyboard or shouting and it’ll make me start panicking), but this is the first time I’ve had to confront being triggered by a physical violence thing. I started dissociating like hell so I left the room when she was distracted by the game and ended up slipping out of the house to call one of my best friends via Discord and lowkey cry about it

I genuinely don’t really remember what I said, the gist was just that I’d been triggered by my fiancée hitting me in anger and that I needed to calm down before I went back. This may have been a dick move because this friend is a mutual friend of me and my fiancée - I knew her first and am closer to her, but she recently met my fiancée in person for the first time and they seemed to get along well, and we’re in several servers and stuff together.

After I was done I went back in and my fiancée apologised for hitting me so hard. I said thank you and we moved on

But afterwards she confronted me because my friend had sent me a message after that basically just checking in on me and my fiancée had seen the message on my laptop that she was using to game. I usually have my Discord on Do Not Disturb when she’s using my computer just so she’s not bothered by notifications beeping at her constantly so I’m not sure if it wasn’t on for some reason and it popped up on-screen or if she minimised the game and saw it somehow, but she was incredibly upset with me because she said I’d made her out to sound physically abusive. I did explain that I’d made clear to the friend she’d never seriously hit before this, but she said that didn’t matter because it was still giving off that impression and that it was unfair because her hitting me was done in a moment of frustration/anger and I shouldn’t have laughed at the game.

I apologised and we dropped it but I do notice that since then she’s been on my computer/phone more often and she’s slid into a few of my friends’ (and I mean My friends, not ones she talks to or knows and not ones I’d said anything about this to) asking if I’ve ever spoken about her and if she can give her side of the story. My friends came straight to me about it because they felt uncomfortable with what they saw as being prompted to talk about me behind my back.

Reasons I don’t think I’m TA: She hit me, and I know she vents about me to her friends too, and although it does bother me that her friends don’t like me because of it (for I assume much the same reason some of mine don’t like her for, AKA only hearing about negative stuff) I’ve always maintained she has the right to do it. I think everyone should be able to vent to friends about partners or family and vice versa in private because venting is normal and as long as it’s not dishonest or just pure shit-talking them I think it can be helpful and even healthy.

Reasons I think I might be TA: I went to a mutual friend so she also has something to lose if this friend forms a negative opinion of her, I laughed at her dying in the game even though I know she gets incredibly frustrated and competitive in games, and I’ve never had an issue with her hitting me more playfully before so she may have just misjudged how hard it was.

So AITA for telling my friend my fiancée hit me / getting so upset about it or is it just PTSD acting up and making me overdramatise something that is basically on the same level as the joke hitting?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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jenoslutie · 3 months

Text

the one that almost got away l y.jh

❥ Synopsis: When your friends decided to leave you alone with your long-term enemy, Yoon Jeonghan, he takes it upon himself to prove to you that he's not as much of an asshole as you say he is.

❥ Pairing: Enemy!Jeonghan x Afab!Reader

❥ Genre: Enemies to lovers Au, Smut, Kinda fluffy if you squint idkkk,

❥ Warnings: Enemy Jeonghan, He's not mean but he's Jeonghan, Unprotected Sex (be smart don't do that), i think that’s all!

❥ Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: request by anon!! ily anon mwah

“I literally cannot stand you, Yoon Jeonghan.” you spat, insanely annoyed at the man sat across from you with the same cocky smile he always sported when he was with you.

“Then sit?” He replied slyly, leaning back on the couch he was sitting on before facing you with a smirk. It was a lame comeback, one you’ve heard used multiple times but still it managed to piss you off because it's Jeonghan. You don’t know how he could talk to you so casually as if you both didn’t hate each other’s guts for as long as you’ve known each other.

You couldn’t stand a single moment with him, he always had to make some stupid remark or comment that had you seeing red but here you were, alone with Jeonghan in his apartment that was homier than you’d ever want to admit. Your friends had abruptly left earlier, promising to be back soon but it’s been an hour already and the both of you had yet to hear from them.

“Why are you always so mad when you’re with me?” Jeonghan asked while taking his phone out of his pocket, not even sparing you a glance as he awaits your response. You gave him the most puzzled expression, aware that he’s not even looking at you. “Because you’re you, Jeonghan. You’ve been insufferable since the day I met you” That causes him to look up at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I’m insufferable?” He scoffed, looking directly into your eyes with a serious expression. Somewhat offended that you had him painted out to be some sort of asshole that he wasn’t. “Have you ever considered you might be the asshole and not me?”

“No, I guess I haven't. Enlighten me though, what would getting to know you be like?” He smirked and patted the seat of the couch he was sitting on. You wordlessly obeyed and sat next to him. The close proximity had you feeling a little hot. Your heightened senses make his soft fresh scent get to your head. Feeling dazed, you look over in his direction and regret it immediately when he’s already looking right into your eyes.

“I guess getting to know me would include getting to know how I feel about you. I’m not an asshole you know? I just like seeing you all riled up” He cuts himself off with a small giggle “You’re cute when you’re all angry” You could almost explode hearing that. There is no way Yoon Jeonghan, the man you had a mutual hatred for for the past however many years, is calling you cute right now. On top of that, he’s been pissing you off all this time because he thinks you’re cute?

You looked away, avoiding the way his eyes were observing you so closely. “Look at me pretty” Jeonghan cooed, turning your head towards him gently.

“You look so pretty like this, can I kiss you?” he smirked “Hopefully that'll make it up to you for the past” He’s right, you never really got the chance to know him. All of your interactions with Jeonghan consisted of you taking all of his jokes to heart and snapping at him, necessarily ruining both of your nights but Jeonghan never let it show. You just thought he was always an unbothered asshole.

You thought for a second before nodding your head ‘yes’ and Jeonghan’s gentle hands were back on you, cupping your face softly before pressing your lips together in a soft kiss. Jeonghan’s lips felt close to perfect on your lips, you could taste the same strawberry lip balm that he always carried with him on his lips. The gentleness of his lips on yours was short lived because in no time he was moving you to lay down on the couch so he could hover above you, kissing you with more passion than before. You could only describe it as hungry, Jeonghan was rushing to get his hands on your hips, anticipating something more.

"Gonna let me fuck you Baby?" Jeonghan pulled away from you so he could look into your eyes while he waited for your confirmation but you didn't even give him a chance to look at you properly before you blurted out a quick 'yes' before pressing his lips back onto yours. Anyone could tell you two were more than desperate for each other the way you two were grabbing at each other in the most desperate way.

You were the one to pull away first this time, grabbing at the hem of his T-shirt, hoping he'd get the hint of what you wanted and of course Jeonghan got the hint because immediately he's pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside on the floor beside the couch. "Can I take off yours too?" You nodded before Jeonghan pulled your own shirt over your head, leaving you in only your pretty lacy bra.

"Take it all off Jeonghan" You pleaded, looking up only to see him grinning before looking down at you expectantly "Please?" You added, hoping that that's what Jeonghan was waiting for and you'd assume you were right with the way Jeonghan murmured a quick 'that's my girl' before sliding your sweatpants and panties off together before tossing them in the little pile of clothing the both of you formed on the floor. He rid himself of the rest of his clothes before carrying you over to his bedroom. It’s not somewhere you’d been before considering you never liked Jeonghan’s company to even stay at his place for anything over an hour and a half.

“How do you want me Baby?” Jeonghan asked as he brought you over to his bed. You thought for a moment before settling yourself onto all fours for him, presenting your pretty holes to Jeonghan. You heard him groan before you felt his hands on you, carefully taking in every inch of your body that he could in the position you were in. “You’re already so wet” Jeonghan groaned as he examined your pussy that was so prettily on display for him.

You were sick of waiting, all that making out and groping from earlier turned you on way more than it should’ve so to say you were only wet was an understatement. You were dripping with need for Jeonghan. For him to touch you where you needed him most, for him to fuck you to make up for all lost time, for him to finally calm your aching pussy. So immediately, you denied the prep Jeonghan offered. Eager to get his cock in you and fucking you into whatever dimesion he sees fit.

“Please just fuck me Jeonghan”

Jeonghan didn’t need to be told twice. He was immediately lining his cock up with your entrance, ever so slightly pushing the tip in before pulling it out and repeating the action over again. It was enough to make you let out a small whimper of his name but not enough to give you what you actually need. “Please baby, need you so bad, ‘m so wet and ready for you” You wiggled your hips slightly before pushing back on his cock, pushing it in deeper.

“Needy girl” Jeonghan chuckled. Giving in finally and bottoming out all the way causing both of you to moan out. Your legs already shaking by the size of Jeonghan alone. He was big and stretching you out so good you almost teared up at the feeling. Jeonghan wasn’t doing any better, he was fighting the urge to fuck into your tight pussy already but he held back until you gave him the green light and thankfully he didn’t have to hold out longer because in no time you were rocking your hips back against his, moaning loudly at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapping his cock so snugly and the way you were so wet had Jeonghan’s eyes rolling back. Enthralled by the way you felt so wet from only a bit of teasing and kissing and the fact you were so tight?? Jeonghan almost felt as if he wouldn't be able to move with the way you were gripping onto him.

Jeonghan soon found a pace that had you moaning out loudly, arching your back and grabbing at his perfectly white sheets. Perfect like the rest of him, you thought with the little drop of sanity you had left to even process any thoughts.

“You feel so good Hannie” You whimpered, reaching one hand down to rub at your clit. You could almost taste your orgasm creeping up on you. Your body reacts to every one of Jeonghan’s thrusts in the most delicious way and you can tell Jeonghan was not far away from what you were feeling by the way he was letting out a plethora of profanities and whimpering in your ear every so often.

“You close pretty?” Jeonghan chuckled, pulling you up by your shoulders so your back was pressed directly onto his chest making you let out a whine at the loss of and your head lolled back onto his shoulder before you nodded your head ‘yes’

“I want you to say sorry to me when you cum” Jeonghan grins, bring one hand down to your clit and rubbing harsh circles, forcing your orgasm to hit you in waves, each wave hitting harder than the last, babbling endless thank yous to Jeonghan and he smirks while whispering small praises into your ear. The position had him able to feel your body go limp against his, letting him hold you up while you came around him.

“Can’t believe you made me wait so fucking long for this” Jeonghan growled lowly, his orgasm hitting him as hard as yours hit you. His thrusts slowed down as he dipped his head down to press his lips onto yours, his cum painting your walls white as it spilled in you. The feeling of his warm cum filling you up had you moaning softly, body flopping down on his bed, allowing him to slip out of you and wander off to grab something to clean you up with.

“Guess the Yoon Jeonghan can be less of an asshole huh?” You joked, feeling him clean you up so gently.

“Guess you’re not so bad yourself”

#jeonghan smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #yoon jeonghan smut

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dunmeshistash · 1 month

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What do you think about Shuro? And more specifically his relationship with Laios, and idk if you talk about ships but what are your thoughts on laishuro

I have this headcannon that Laios has some sort of unrequited crush on Shuro just because it's sorta funny

I ship pretty much everything. Like, as default I think everyone should kiss everyone 👍

If I'm honest I'm not much of a Shuro fan, he's a little boring to me and reactions to the chimera episode made me dislike him a bit lmao.

Ignoring the fandom I like him as a character and I LOVE his fight with Laios. Shuro's relationship to Laios is my favorite part of that character so laishuro pretty much saves him for me.

In universe Shuro is said to be quite the introvert even for people from his country. He's not the standard for someone from the eastern archipelago and it bothered me a bit when people used that to justify how he wasn't honest to Laios. I understand the idea that he comes from somewhere where reading social cues is not only expected but required but he's also someone who avoids confrontation and is quiet/shy in general.

Here's a bit from Maizuru's description from the adventurer's bible

"People tend to describe Shuro as "drab" and "shy" (...)" so specifically HE IS the exact type of person who would cause the biggest misunderstanding with Laios, just compare him to how his retainers or even his father and brothers act.

It took them saying they used ancient magic on Falin/seeing chimera Falin for him to finally snap, everything else he decided to just take it cause he thought it was better to take it than to confront Laios directly.

So besides the cultural differences you have to take into consideration this was pretty much the perfect storm brewing for that confrontation, and it's as much who Shuro is as a person and who Laios is as person that caused it.

I also disagree that the fight was a "they're both in the wrong" situation. Don't get me wrong, Laios was VERY culturally insensitive to Shuro and even more insensitive to his feelings, but there was nothing he could have done differently with the information that was available to him.

Specifically I see this comic being used to justify how Laios was to blame too, making Shuro into the victim

Like that's a major white guy move but he DIDN'T HEAR Shuro's name and Shuro never corrected him. I'd understand it if his reaction was "Your name is too complicated so I'll call you Shuro instead" that would be a major dick move, but Laios did not hear his name because Toshiro mumbled it, and for someone that forgot Kabru's name several times I imagine he made an effort to remember Shuro's.

Laios never met someone from the eastern archipelago before this, nobody ever explained to him he wasn't acting in an appropriate manner and most of all he thought they were friends. He trusted Shuro to set boundaries for him, he always respects boundaries that are set even when he doesn't fully understand them (Recalling the "I forgot about feelings.." when Chilchuck says it feels wrong to eat merman)

Instead of explaining ANYTHING to Laios, Shuro instead held it all in until it exploded all at once, he blamed Laios for not knowing something he couldn't know, and accused him of not being serious about saving his own sister.

Just imagine how this must have felt for Laios, everyone is always underestimating how serious he is, everyone accuses him of being stupid, clueless, and now this guy is telling him he isn't serious about saving the person he loves the most in the world and wants to protect always. To me this wasn't a "they're both in the wrong" situation, Shuro is far more in the wrong than Laios. But that's just how I see it.

That all being said, they understood each other finally and made peace after that fight.

And several times after this we see that Shuro really cares for Laios, and Laios still wants to be his friend. He even offered to save Laios if he fails (and he's sure he's gonna fail). So their relationship is dear to me, especially cause after this they finally have the foundation for a true mutual friendship <3

I think my dislike of Shuro comes from relating to him to be honest, it happens often that I see my own failures on a character and get angry at them for being angry at myself lmao. I also got a little annoyed cause I only saw people defending him, apparently those were made as a response to hate he had gotten? But since I never actually seen the hate it just felt annoying to see Shuro being white knighted.

Anyway I love the two of them together and I'm really happy they finally understood each other better. laishuro might be my favorite Laios ship, one sided crushes are great.

#Sorry I dont like being negative and I hope this wasnt too mean towards Shuro #its hard to be objective about him cause of personal feelings but I tried #Dungeon Meshi #Shuro #Laios Touden #Ask #Longpost #Rant #long post #Oh yeah I've said it before but I live under a rock I rarely know whats happening in fandom #might be part of the reason why only the shuro defenses found their way to me #dunmeshi thoughts

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arlestial · 8 months

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hi, could i please request nagi, isagi, bachira and chigiri when they forgot a date and accidentally stood up their s/o?

❝Break me like a promise❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Nagi Seishiro, Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : angst

word count : 2000 words

author-note : Hi !! As I said before, I’ve never been aware of my requests in my ask-box so here I am writing them 1 year after they’ve been given 💀 Sorry for the long wait, hope you still like it :) Took me a lot of time to write for my food wars ask so writing for this one was not my priority at first 😭 If you want a part 2, I’ll gladly do it 🫶🏻 I’ll do Chigiri in another post !! take care of yourself ♡

ISAGI YOICHI was, once again, lost in his thoughts. Soccer was keeping him busier than he’d like admit, sometimes leading to ghosting you for one day or two - but it was rare, fortunately for you. He was the sweetest, really. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, calling you at random hours in the night “just to hear your voice”, murmuring sweet nothings with this tired, hoarse, yet, mesmerizing voice of his. And then, no news for 4 or 5 days, if you were lucky enough. Sometimes, you felt like you were too clingy, too lovey-dovey, but he immediately was shushing your words by peppered kisses on your face, between giggles and intertwined fingers. And then, no news for 5 or 7 days, if you were lucky enough. This has been going on for months, and you were slowly - and painfully - becoming tired of it. You decided to confront him, puzzled by his sudden change of behavior. Was it Blue Lock ? Or you ? Why was he so distant ? One night, you took your phone and called him, concerned, fidgeting with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you last time he came home.

“Honey ? Hi. What’s up ?”

“Hi, Yoichi. You busy ?”

“’Need to sleep soon, we have a big training tomorrow. Why ?”

“Am I a burden to you, Yoichi ?”

Isagi frowned on the other side of the phone, looking at the screen, as if he was checking he was calling the right person.

“Wait what- you’re speaking nonsense, are you okay ?”

“I am. Do you still love me ?”

“Obviously. Why are you asking me this ? Did I do something bad ?” His voice broke a little, your heart tightening slightly.

“Yeah- I mean, no. It’s complicated. I feel like you’re avoiding me all the time. You’re here, and right after a call or a text, you’re disappearing, ghosting me afterwards. I legitimately don’t understand. Is it my fault ?”

“N-No, not at all ! Blue lock is just keeping me busy, love. You don’t need to worry.”

You don’t need to worry. You never have to worry with Isagi by your side. However, the time, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. This weird sensation caused you to keep your mouth shut; and it was visibly concerning to the raven-haired boy.

“Love ? You’re still here ?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little bit tired, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about me,”, you nervously chuckled, before murmuring a small “love you” like you always did before ending a call with your lover.

After some time overthinking your entire relationship, you decided to talk to him face to face; meaning you had to head out directly to Blue Lock buildings. The following morning, you woke-up rather early, rushing your usual routine to take a random bus, supposed to drive you to the famous quarters.

You felt the knot in your lower stomach again; sweetly palms grabbing your tote bag to keep it from falling, opening the doors of the building. You gulped as you made your way to the receptionist, asking her if you could see your boyfriend just for some minutes. She refused several times, visibly quite annoyed by your presence. After endless pleas, a woman with sort of chocolate-brown hair appeared, scolding the receptionist for “the lack of respect she showed”. She apologized and introduced herself, Anri Teieri, Jinpachi Ego’s assistant, co-director of the Blue Lock project, as she walked in the large corridors, gesturing you to follow her.

So, you did, eager to see your boyfriend, your steps and Anri's echoing on the bare walls. You finally arrived to the dorms, and Anri knocked on the door, making sure nobody was changing or something. When she was assured that the room was safe, she flashed you a smile and opened the door for you to enter. You immediatly spotted a surprised Isagi, turning his head to look at the person who entered their shared dorm. When you two made eye-contact, a huge smile appeared on his features, and he ran to you, engulfing your form with his strong arms.

"Y/N ?? Gosh, I'm so relieved to see you. I missed you so much." Several shared kisses later, Isagi promised to take you on a date the following day, saying he had Ego's permission to take a break from training. So, as he said, you waited in the restaurant he booked the day prior. Anxiety was beginning to fill your mind as you desperately stared at the front doors, hoping with your entire-being for your boyfriend to show-up. But he never did. After one hour and four pity glances from the waiters, you left, your heart heavy in your chest.

Little did you know, that Isagi was actually playing a training game against professional players. When his teammates had asked him to join them on the field, he had bit his lower lip, letting his thoughts wander between you and the human yet unreachable figures he always admired. With some sort of "fuck it, I'll deal with the consequences later" curse, he let go of his bag and hurried to the changing rooms, not realizing what decision he had just taken. But it was an occasion he couldn’t miss, right ?

And when you saw him on the screen of your phone, more precisely, with the Blue Lock broadcast channel, in his blue jersey, tossing the ball to Nagi, the knot in your stomach disapperead.

Giving way to a boiling anger. And a message on his phone, lying on the bench of the field,

10:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

NAGI SEISHIRO was a bit lazy. It was his personality; you loved him that way, and you weren’t going to plead him to change his lack of motivation for you. But when he refused again to go on a date with you, you had just enough. And sighing was not an option. Your arguments with him were quite rare, because Nagi always found a way to shut you up and apologize sincerely. But this time, it felt like he genuinely wasn’t understanding your point. For the nth time that night, you growled in frustration, your face in your hands. Nagi was lying on the bed, not even bothering to turn off his phone when you were talking to him. He kept humming quiet “mmh”, “yeah”, too busy with his new phone game to actually listen to you.

“Nagi, please ! I’m sick of it,”, you cursed under your breath, fists clenching in order to keep your boiling anger to yourself. You didn’t want to lash everything on him right now. “Can’t you just look at me when I’m talking to you ?”

He frowned; hearing his last name instead of the usual petname for him seemed to get him out of his thoughts.

“What ? I’m listening.”

“You’re not. You’re never listening. That’s the problem with you.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. You crossed your arms, lifting an eyebrow, clearly not amused by his nonchalant attitude.

“Really now ? Hey, come here. I don’t know why you’re so annoying, I guess it was a long day fo-”

“The hell ?? I’m not- you are the fucking issue here, Nagi. You’re always refusing everything.. I can understand that you’d rather stay at home but at least, can you grant me some quality time ? Grant us some quality time ?”, you sharply said, trying to keep your tone as calm as possible, rubbing your temples. He turned off his phone, giving you a hard glare.

“You knew I wasn’t the romantic type of guy when you decided to date me. You did anyway, so why are you complaining ?”

“Because I don’t want to be constantly the second choice, for fucks sake ! I can deal with your hobbies, with your passions and all. I’m just asking for one moment with you without your phone, or your stupid videogames, or-”

“Okay okay, quit it, I get it. I’m sorry, baby.”, he slowly approached you, gently stroking your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, ‘right ?”

With that, you both fell asleep cuddling. The next morning, you woke up to a cold bed; Seishiro must’ve left early in the morning with Reo to train, you thought. You stretched, used to his absence. But you were glad that he had promised you a date tonight, telling you to wait for him at home. So the day goes by, doing your own activites, a smile on your face as you wandered about what you were going to do with your boyfriend later.

But your smile quickly vanished when you saw Reo’s story on Instagram. Angry tears covering your eyes as you threw your phone on the mattress. You were sending texts to Nagi for 20 minutes now, asking him when was he going to arrive. And you discovered - much to your dismay - that he was hanging out with his Blue Lock friends, sat on a couch of what seemed to be an arcade. Apparently, he was going to enjoy a long night with his friends, considering the story caption, “stayin up all night w homies”.

4 or 5 hours later, Nagi entered your shared appartement with a yawn. He called for you through the kitchen, frowning when he noticed you weren’t answering. He quickly went to the bedroom, searching you everywhere.

And suddenly, it triggered something in him; he forgot. He forgot about you. Again.

BACHIRA MEGURU was clueless. Clumsy. It was the main issue in the relationship; sometimes, he’d act before thinking, or say things he’d regret some time later. It’d lead to arguments, sobs, quivering lips and broken sorry’s, foreheads against each other. As much as Bachira loved you, he was still the bubbly man who often forgot things. Usually, you’d have laughed, his brows furrowed until you gave him his wallet, now smiling and kissing your cheek with a thank you. It was funny, earning a chuckle from you here and there, right ? Until you were the forgotten thing waiting for him. You felt useless, insecurities eating you alive as you cursed them constantly. Looking at the calendar, a red line encircling a somewhat random date, your couple’s anniversary. Well, not so random. You prayed, over and over again, that he would remember about it. Bachira was hard to read when it came to inner feelings : you tried to drop some hints, hoping he’d reciprocate them in a kind of way.

3:21p.m. | y/n ♡ : hi, meg :) ready for tomorrow ?

- read at 3:24p.m.

3:25p.m. | meguru ♡ : hi !! for tomorrow ? wdym ?

- read at 3:26p.m.

3:28p.m. | y/n ♡ : uh

well that’s awkward

Nevermind

- read at 3:29p.m.

3:30p.m. | meguru ♡ : no wait ! Sorry, did I forgot something ?

sunshine I’m sorry :( was it important ?

Your stomach churned at the question. You bit your lip, taking a long breath.

- read at 3:33p.m.

3:34p.m. | y/n ♡ : no it wasn’t don’t worry

just an hair appointment :)

- read at 3:35p.m.

3:36p.m. | meguru ♡ : don’t forget to show me then !! I have a surprise for you too !! <3

- read and liked at 3:39p.m. by y/n ♡

You felt your mood lighting up. He remembered ? Maybe he faked it from the beginning ? You smiled to yourself, now completely delusional; your brain was fully aware of it, but your heart kept hoping naively.

So when he showed up at your door the following day, you dressed up in your favorite clothes, ready to spend a day out with him. He greeted you with a hug, tilting his head to the side when he caressed your hair.

“You changed the color ?”, he questioned, perplexed.

“I canceled.”, you lied, a little too easily for your own taste, “It’d have been a waste of time, we have a lot of things today.”

“Not really, tho. It’s just a regular day, after all ! Isagi told me about a new restaurant he wanted to eat into. Want to join us ?”

“You.. Meguru, you don’t remember ?”

“About what ?”

He hummed; a smile displayed on his face . Yours quickly fade, your heart clenching. Oh. The pain was still here, even though you knew it from the very first start.

“Our anniversary. You don’t remember about our anniversary. Again.”

His smile faded at your words, faded at the sight of your wet cheeks. His mouth opened, trying to form words to express his sudden turmoil. You walked back inside your house, closing the door on a distraught Bachira. He tried to apologize. He really tried. He spammed your phone in calls, drowning you with apologies texts, but could you forget again his clumsiness ? Love is keeping a promise no matter what; and he broke it too many times for you to stay at his side.

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koolades-world · 9 months

Note

Hello, I'm looking for some angst.

I would like to order an extra harsh reality of

"The brothers will pick their sister over Mc if given a chance"

And some side dish of "The undertables having to fight for Mc"

Thanksiiee!!

hi!! Sorry I took so long to get to this but I was so looking forward to writing this when I got it! slight mentions at nsfw but nothing is described or really directly talked about. also spoilers for lesson 16 and also also long!! much longer than I anticipated

everything I write turns into Satan pieces somehow lol

Took inspo from Harry Potter, specifically Tom Riddle’s diary in the Chamber of Secrets (don't @ me used to be a huge hp fan)

update: part two is out and can be found here :)

the dance of the haunted (part one)

It all started with a simple trip to the second hand bookstore. Satan always invited Mc, so they were together. He needed a hand carrying back his purchases sometimes and they always went someone to eat afterwards, Satan’s treat as he could never imagine asking Mc to pay.

They bookstore they visited today was a usual for them. It was close enough to walk, but far enough to avoid running into his brothers. Satan knew Mc really enjoyed old cookbooks and worn fantasy books. They also often searched for children’s books to read to local demon children as part of a school club. While he was initially concerned with them coming into contact with a cursed book, he grew more comfortable after seeing their magical ability and that they always carried an enchanted talisman that Solomon gifted them for that purpose.

Mc was over in the nature section, flipping through a book about creatures in the 3rd ring of hell. Satan found himself in the tomes section again. He, as usual, found himself rooting through the very back trying to uncover hidden gems. He was about to pick up a book he thought Mc might like to flip through it, when he froze. Just a sliver of this book was in his vision, but he already felt the magic oozing from it. It's a wonder he didn't sense it sooner. He put the other book in a hurry and pulled out the book from the back.

It was unlabeled, with a faded green cover and a golden ribbon attached to the spine. It marked a page close to the beginning. The magic radiating from it didn't seem bad in any way. It actually seemed quite positive. He was able to place it quickly after he felt the ribbon sticking out the bottom of the book.

This was most certainly a book infused with an angelic blessing at the very least, but how in the world had this ended up in a second hand book store in the Devildom, of all places. He flipped it over, looking for anything to go off of, but found nothing but a cursive golden letter L etched on the bottom right corner. He was a little afraid to open it, giving that it was in the hands of an angel at some point. After thinking it over, if anything happened to him, Mc would help him as soon as they noticed something amiss. Thanks to the pact, it would be almost instantly.

With the thought of Mc, he slowly opened the book. On the first page and on the inside of the front cover was handwriting that seemed oddly familiar. He struggled to read the words on the page at first due to the sense of familiarity. He suddenly got deja vu, as if he had held this book before. He closed his eyes for a moment to stop the world from spinning. When he reopened them, he felt like crying, and yet, he still wasn't sure why. Once he finally read what was written, he understood why.

On the inside cover, it read "Property of Lilith Morningstar" and near the bottom in large writing was a messy scrawl he recognized as Mammon's handwriting. It said "mammon waz here" with a little drawing of himself sticking his tongue out. A heart in a different color of ink enclosed the message and drawing. On the first page was a note seemingly from Lucifer. Satan would recognize his handwriting anywhere. It was a heartfelt message from Lucifer to Lilith, saying that he hoped the gift reached her well, and that he missed and loved her.

He closed the book for a second and suddenly felt faint. He sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He thought about what he had just read for a moment. The book that he had somehow found, maybe by chance or fate, belonged to his brother's late sister. It was a gift from Lucifer to Lilith while he was away. He realized that's probably why he felt his emotions raging. The Lucifer in him recognized the book, since he had seemingly picked it out himself to give to his sister. How had this ended up in a second hand bookstore? He theorized maybe it had been made in the Devildom and Lucifer had purchased it during one of his trips. But, angel Lucifer would have never done that. He was disgusted by the mere thought of even having to go down at the time, so the thought of him browsing shops was out of the question. Deciding to come back to that thought later, he decided to quickly flip through it, just to see what it was.

As he reopened the book, new waves of magic hit him. He didn't recognize them, but they felt as familiar as his brothers. He guessed their magic was also somehow within this book. But since it was all angelic magic, everything having to do with this book happened before the fall, before he even existed. Much to his dismay, everything beyond the first page was blank. He closed and opened it a few times, but nothing happened. He guessed it might be locked by magic in some way. The thought of trying to magically pry it open scared him again. He was a demon through and through, and since this was blessed by angels, he had no clue what might happen to him if he tried. He was certain whoever blessed this book did not accommodate for whatever he was, but he thought it to be unwise to test the limits.

"Satan. What are you doing on the floor?" Mc walked up to him, holding a few books in their arms.

"Oh, just looking at book on the bottom shelf. I got tired of crouching." He quickly placed the green book down on top of a stack of his other books.

"I get that. Just wanted to let you know I'm ready to be done when you are. Don't rush for me." They turned to walk away, but Satan stopped them.

"I'm done too. I was finishing up." He moved to get up. Mc turned back around to look at him.

"I made great timing then! Here, I'll carry some of these for you." They grabbed the first few books off his stack. He felt his stomach lurch when they touched the green book. He couldn't help but feel nervous with them handling the book, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't want to say anything about it to them, and again, he didn't know why. For now, maybe it was best he kept this to himself anyways. Mc’s expression didn't change and they continued to pile on the books until the green one was in the middle. There was nothing special about that book to them.

"Thank you." Satan made himself say. He picked up the remaining books and they proceeded to the check out together. Today, an older demon worked the register. She was familiar with the pair and had a soft spot for Mc.

"Is that everything for today?" She asked them as she counted the books. Between the two of them, they had thirteen books. Satan handed the demon the needed amount of grim, and waved them on their way. Satan insisted on carrying the bag of books home, since this time there wasn’t too many.

"Let's stop at a café on our way home. I'm dying for something warm to drink right now." Mc grabbed Satan's hand and pulled him in the direction they wanted to go in. He smiled and allowed himself to be dragged off. While they were enjoying coffee together, he was able to temporally forget about the book he had discovered. All of his thoughts were about Mc for the time being.

When they arrived home together, Mc loudly announced that they were there. Mammon came running to greet them. "Mc! I got somethin' for ya! Ya gotta come with me right now!" He grabbed both of the hands and began to pull them away.

"Thank you for the coffee and books, Satan. Tell me about what you bought at dinner tonight." They looked back at him before looking at Mammon again.

"I will. I'll drop off your books in your room. I had a great time." He lifted a hand at them, as a goodbye.

"Mc!" Mammon began to whine.

"Yes, yes. Let's go now." Mammon took off with Mc in tow, leaving Satan stewing in his thoughts again. He went back to his room with all of the books. The other books he had picked out were no longer interesting compared to the Lilith book. However, he didn't want to mess with it while his brothers were awake. The last thing he wanted was them finding out. While he felt bad keeping it from them, something in him was telling him not to show it to them yet. He had promised Mc he would tell them about the books he picked out. The only one he wanted to read was the one about cats. He could easily talk about it to Mc anyways, without having to worry about the Lilith book crossing his mind.

He read until it was time for dinner. Today, it was Asmo’s turn to cook. He was actually a pretty good cook, probably the best in the house. It always turned out well and was plated gorgeous on top of that. He came to the dinner table with the book he hand been reading, still reading. He took his seat across from Mc, not looking up just yet.

“Hey, is that one of the new books?” Satan looked over his book and saw Mc peering at him.

“Yes, actually. It’s a cat book! Cats are the best.” He happily pointed to the picture of a cat on the front. As they ate, the conversation began to drift away from books, and onto something that Satan thought was irrelevant. He tried to go back to reading, but found himself reading the same lines over and over again. His thoughts had reverted to the little green book sitting in a pile of books on his bed. He has buried it, just in case someone happened to walk in.

As Mc mediated yet another argument between Levi and Mammon, he couldn’t find it in himself to silently seethe and glare at his brothers as he usually did. He blankly stared at his book, picking at his food. He was stuck wondering why the book didn’t say anything. He planned what he would do once he got back to his room. He knew he had a book of protective spells somewhere in the house that he might use to protect himself before attempting to interact with the book more.

“Satan. Is everything alright?” Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder, catching him off guard. The table was basically empty now, much to his surprise. It was only Beel, Belphie and himself still seated. Beel was still eating and Belphie was passed out next to him.

“Nothing is wrong.” Satan snapped back after a moment.

“Alright. Please don’t forget do the dishes.” Lucifer retraced his hand, and with one final, unreadable look at Satan, left the room. He was unsure about how to feel about Lucifer noticing something was amiss. He snapped his book shut. He wasn’t really reading it in the first place. He put the book down on the kitchen counter and began absentmindedly doing the dishes. He was lost in though about the book currently buried underneath about twenty other books on his bed.

He finished in record time. He grabbed his cat book, figuring Beel could wash his own dish once he was done. He retreated to his room. He was released to find everything just as he left it. He dug up the green book from his pile, placing all the other books on the floor for the time being. He sat at his desk, running his hands over the cover. Under his little desk lamp, it seemed to sparkle in a way that he hasn’t previously noticed. Once he opened it, he was greeted with what he has seen earlier that day. But, to his surprise, there was more beyond that.

Most of the pages in the front of the book curled from usage. At the top of each page, was a note of the date. Below this, was a diary entry of sorts. Sometimes, it was just a to-do list, or a recipe. Others, he found Lilith’s accounts of her day to day life. He decided to start at the beginning, reading the first ever entry. He hoped to gain a little context of what exactly this journal was and how it worked.

Lilith had written on the first page after the note from Lucifer about how he has sent her this journal while on a trip to the Devildom, stating it was made by a human according to the tag on the outside of the journal. He enchanted it himself to only allow her to see the contents of this journal.

Satan paused his reading for a moment. If it has been enchanted to only allow Lilith to read the journal, how was he able to read it just now? He wasn’t close to her. They never knew each other. As he flipped to the next page to hopefully skim it for context of any kind, the words in front of him began to fade. The ink retracted into the page, from the last letter she had written, to the first. He wasn’t sure what he could do to prevent this, so he just quickly read what he could. The next page was something about how Belphie had wanted to take a look at it and something about Beel. Once he got there, the words has begun to erase themselves. He watched helplessly as everything disappeared. Soon, he was just stuck with the plain book he had discovered that afternoon, and the cover no longer shimmered.

He sighed, flipping through it again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He was about to check out the back cover again when he heard his door being pushed open.

“Satan! Thought I would find you here.” Mc greeted him.

“It’s my room. What did you expect?” He shut the book in a hurry.

“Well, I can just as often find you in the library.” They approached him, touching his face. They outlined his jaw and smoothed his cheeks with their thumbs. He reached for their wrists, touching them with an imploring look.

“What’s the matter?” He petted their hair. They sat down in his lap and placed their head on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry that the journal was right in their view now, but he hugged them close nonetheless.

“I just feel lonely.” They sighed and buried their face in his neck.

“Really? After all that time you spent with Mammon?” He laughed a little at their predicament.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not the same as when I’m with you.” They pouted and puffed their cheeks out. He chuckled a little more at the cute face they made at him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. What can I do for you, my beloved?” He could get lost in their eyes.

“Give me affection! Just kisses will do.” They pointed to their forehead. Satan smiled at them, amused.

“As you wish.” He began to pepper their face in kisses. As Mc grew more needy, the more he satisfied them. One thing led to another, as they ended up in Satan’s bed. They stayed together for the rest of the night, the journal long forgotten.

Early the next morning, after their night of passion, Satan awoke abruptly. He looked around. He was in his own room, but his clothes were scattered around the room. A shirt was hanging by a thread off a tall pile of books. Mc was asleep next to him, their arms wrapped around him. His lamp light was still on. He reached over as far as he could to reach the off switch. Before he could hit it, he saw the journal. He glanced back at Mc. He didn’t want to wake them, but he felt the urge to open it. He reached out to touch it, and as soon as he did, he noticed it began to shimmer like it had before. He was amazed. He quickly flipped as best as he could to a random page with one hand. He could see lots of writing. He shut it again, taking his hands off of it. It remained shimmery.

He decided not to flip through it now, since he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to at the moment. Instead, he noted the time; 4:03 am. Once he woke up, he would check it again to get a rough idea of how long it would stay open for since earlier, he wasn’t sure how long it had been open for. He finally shut the lamp off and let the book flutter closed. He took his mind off the book, and laid back down. He tucked an arm around Mc as best he could without waking them, and drifted back to sleep.

He awoke for the second time that day. Everything was essentially the same as it was earlier except for the time and the noise outside his door. Mc was still asleep next to him, griping him tightly. It was 8:24 am now, and he could hear Lucifer pacing around past his door in the hall. He didn't make any noise. The last thing he wanted was to see his ugly mug first thing in the morning. Because of this, he decided not to leave him room just yet, but he also didn't want to open the journal either. He would, however, check if it was still "open" or readable. He flickered on his little desk lamp again, and was greeted with the shimmery cover. He didn't want to touch it, because he was almost certain he was able to set it off that morning. Once he was able to think clearer, he would revisit that.

Instead, he grabbed the first book he could get his hands on and began to read. He wasn't sure how long he was there, just reading, but eventually he felt Mc begin to stir. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Satan greeted the bleary eyed person snuggled into his side.

“Good morning love. How long was I asleep?” They yawned, making no move to sit up. Neither of them were dressed at the moment anyways.

“A decent amount. Longer than I did anyways.” He shrugged, placing the book facedown on his desk, over the journal.

“Thanks for not waking me. You wouldn’t guess how many times Mammon or Asmo have woken me up way too early. Granted, it’s usually on accident. Asmo with his skincare and Mammon with… I don’t actually know.” Mc rolled on to their side to look at Satan better, throwing one of their arms over his torso. He felt himself growing shy under their sleepy gaze. He knew he wasn't the only one graced with that privilege, but the way they looked at him made him feel so special. He would give them every star in the sky if they asked.

“That makes me all the more grateful that they don’t dare enter my room. Makes it quite the sanctuary, don’t you think?” Satan chuckled.

“Mmm, yes.” They yawned again.

“What do you want to eat for breakfast, sweetheart? Or is it too soon to think about that?” He asked.

“Give me a few more minutes and then I’ll find an answer for you.” Mc closed their eyes again, potentially going back to sleep. He used that time to reflect. His thoughts grew a little grim as he let them wander. That journal kept finding it's way into his mind. How had he been able to find that? What were the chances of that happening? Maybe it would have made a little more sense if one of his brothers had found the book instead, since part of them seemed to linger between the lines. He was a different story, though. The magic within must had been much more powerful than he anticipated.

Even as he turned his head to the side to look at the book again, he saw the pages glimmer in the light that didn't exist. Something seemed... wrong. He hadn't noticed it before, maybe due to the excitement of simply finding it. The circumstances of which he found it in too was bizarre. As a powerful demon, he should have noticed the angelic energy as soon as he entered the book store. He dwelled on this idea. Perhaps last night's activities had had an affect on it. He coughed a little, covering up his embarrassment from the invisible audience. As he thought more, it really made no sense that he just happened to find it. Had it been planted there for him specifically, or was it the journal itself? Just what did this book know? He did consider himself exceptional, but not nearly as much as his brothers. Their story was far more interesting than his own. He was just the consequence of their actions. Whatever the case with this book, he felt the urge to get to the bottom of it, despite the creeping dread in his gut.

He spent the next few days of his reading time picking though every page of the journal. He was able to learn so much about his brothers' days in the Celestial Realm, far more than they had ever bothered to tell him. Perhaps they thought speaking about it might bother him. Whatever the case, he found it strange to refer to them as angels. Lilith wrote lots about the twins and Asmo. She wrote less about the older brothers but it was clear they were just as important to her. He had know Asmo was the Jewel of the Heavens, but the way Lilith described him made him sound like the most amazing thing the world had ever seen. The more and more he read, the more he saw the similarities between himself and her. He too considered Asmo a trusted confidant, and a close friend of his. He too found himself sneaking off with Belphie for mischievous reasons, or spending time with Beel for his quiet, comforting presence. He began to realize how difficult losing her might have been for them. In the past, he knew it was a sore subject, especially among the youngest, but now he could really feel their pain as Lilith wrote about their daily misadventures. What they missed. Would they exchange him for her if given the chance? He shook this thought off, not liking the implications it might have.

Her innocence was painted clearly for him on each page, yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He checked the book again and again for traces of demonic magic but found nothing. The strangest part was that he couldn't even find his own. There was traces of various angels, most of which he didn't recognize, likely from the far gone past. The journal continued to puzzle him.

As time passed, the entries grew more and more chaotic. From her new lover, to the growing tensions between Lucifer and their father. They grew shorter and less carefree. Even her handwriting differed. She seemed to understand the gravity of what she had done. He knew this is when the Celestial War was about to begin. Her last entry was about her lover, again about how enchanting she found them, and how one day she hoped to spend the rest of her life with him, no matter what. He paused for a moment, realizing this entry was written likely days, or even hours before he was born. After that entry, the pages were blank. There were some pages with stray pen marks, but that's all he was able to uncover. He knew the ending to this story. The silence told it all. He sat for a while, reflecting again about everything he had seen. As he was thinking, words began to appear on the page in front of him, in the same handwriting and ink color as he had seen in the entire journal. It was Lilith's. Satan paused. He could tell the journal held magical properties, but this was not something he expected to happen.

"Hello? Anyone there?" The words appeared suddenly. He continued staring at the page until more words appeared. "You can say something you know. Ink will do." Satan began to look around for a writing utensil at these words. Once he found one, he began to pen a response.

"Hello. Are you Lilith?" He wrote down underneath the previous words. He got his own response quickly.

"Yes, I am! How'd you know that?" Satan paused again, about to write more, but was cut off as Lilith began to write more. "Haha! Just kidding. This is my journal. My name is in it. It would be weird if this wasn't me. Who are you, by the way? I don't think I've ever had a visitor." Right away, Satan thought Lilith reminded him of Asmo. He was probably like this when he was an angel.

He stopped before bringing his pen down to the page again. He was unsure on how to introduce himself. During his visit to the past, he went by Sully, which was the stupidest name in his opinion. But, he also didn't want to lie to her. Would it be wrong to tell her his story, and what happened after the war? "My name is Satan. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too! That's a pretty cool name. Interesting for sure." She wrote.

"I don't want to scare you away, but I want to make this clear as to not deceive you." He wanted to tell her the truth. He felt like she deserved to know. After all, he had always felt like she was supposed to be in his place. She even wrote in green.

"Oh, tell away then. I'm all ears. I won't judge, unless you're about to confess some sort of sin to me!" She wrote, most likely jokingly. That made him a little nervous at first, but he continued with the original plan anyways. Maybe this was his way of healing, somehow. He felt better after getting everything out. He told her almost everything. He omitted the part where Belphie murdered Mc. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, anyways. It felt wrong to tell her that her death had driven him to such an extreme. She stayed mostly silent, chiming in with a few questions and stray blots of ink on the pages near his writing, as if she was resting her pen on the page.

"I hope that wasn't too much to take in at once. Much has happened." Satan was still a nervous. He really hoped she wouldn't hate him. He was just the messenger. After all, without her, he wouldn't even exist.

"I won't lie, it was overwhelming at first. But, I'm happy to hear my brothers are doing well without me. It's comforting to know that they have you and Mc now." Lilith drew a little heart next to her message.

"Glad to hear. Sorry to leave so abruptly, but I agreed to meet Mc for an outing shortly, so I will see myself out." He wasn't lying. He had agreed to meet Mc, but it wasn't for another two hour.

"Alright. Have fun! Talk to you later." With that, everything she had said sunk into the page and left no trace behind.

"Goodbye." His words also disappeared. Just like that, their entire conversation was gone. He shut the book. He was glad she didn't object. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to leave early. He felt a little bad leaving her to stew in the information dump, if she actually existed beyond the book being open. Everything about the book confused him. Looking back at it, maybe he made a rash decision. Maybe he shouldn't have info dumped to her like that.

He decided to forget that for now to enjoy his time with Mc. They had an event to attend, and he had to get ready anyways. Later that night, he came back to the journal in order to study it. He opted not to talk to Lilith just yet. The sick feeling in his stomach had returned. Something was wrong with this journal, very wrong. It made no sense, even after chatting to her. She seemed sweet enough, but that wasn't enough to dispel that gross, nauseating feeling. He just couldn't place his finger on what. He felt as if he was losing his mind checking over and over again, for something, anything. But, he found absolutely nothing.

Eventually he got to the point where he was determining if he should burn it or not. He regretted even talking to her in the first place. He wasn't sure why, but he grew uneasy even having Mc in the same house as the journal. Somehow, it felt as if he was talking to someone else, as in not the Lilith who made the original entries. He placed the journal back on his desk, underneath his latest book finds, leaving to find Mc. He eventually found them by the door, putting their shoes on.

"Hey Satan. Good to see you!" They looked up at him.

"Hi, Mc. Where are you going?" He was relieved they were leaving the house.

"Purgatory Hall. I was invited over to play some games. Sol's idea." They began searching for their jacket. Satan noticed it hidden behind Lucifer's big overcoat. He grabbed it, and helped them put it on, thinking hard. "Aww thank you. You didn't have to do that." They beamed at him.

"I wanted to, it's no trouble." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Hey, do you think it's possible that I could come with you. I don't even have to play these games if that's an issue, I just want to be with you." He would feel even better if he was able to be with them, and get away from that journal for a while.

"Oh, of course! I'm sure they would love to have you. Besides, I've basically always got one of you brothers attached to me, they might find it weird if I showed up without one." Mc laughed. "I thought you were planning to read tonight, since I've been taking up almost all of your nights for the past week. Did something happen?" They seemed concerned, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you. Really, I can put off reading again. All time spent with you is precious. It's hard to be away from you, you should know. You're simply enchanting." He took their hand and spun them into his arms.

"Alright, if you say so! We should get going if we want to be on time. I can let them know if you need a little time to get ready?" Mc giggled, buying his excuse. They might have seen though him, but was glad they chose not to say anything.

"I just need my shoes and coat as well. I wouldn't want to hold you up, anyways." He only let Mc go in favor of getting ready. "You know, I'm honestly surprised you aren't already bringing Mammon or Asmo." He told them.

"Me too, actually. Asmo was busy, and Mammon was too distracted with his car repairs to pay attention to what I was saying earlier. I was almost held back by Belphie too. But, I'm here now and I get to spend this time with you." They stood beside him as he tied his shoes and shrugged on his jacket. As the two of them made their way to Purgatory Hall, Mc held his hand so tightly and gazed at him so tenderly, he was almost convinced they were the only thing in the world.

When they arrived, they had plenty of fun. Solomon had arranged a collection of games to play as a group that were randomly decided by drawing slips of paper. To nobody's surprise, Solomon and Mc ended up winning most of them because they were human games. Satan forgot all about the journal. That is, until, he received a phone call in the middle of one of their games. Mc was draped over him with their arms around his neck, also curious about who might be calling them at a time like this. It was Lucifer.

"I told them we were heading out. What could he need?" Mc reached for the phone but Satan stopped them.

"If the call is for me, it's probably to yell at me or something. I don't want you to be on the receiving end of that." Satan rolled his eyes, and brought the phone to his ear, planning to brush off anything he said. He was really only answering because Simeon was in the room, who would answer it for him.

"Come home. Now. You have explaining to do." Lucifer growled through the phone. At first, Satan wasn't worried. He got ominous calls from his older brother like this all the time.

"What is it?" He sighed. Mc laughed a little, causing him to smile. The others began to chat among themselves while he was on the phone. This was normal.

"You know exactly what this is about. On your desk in your room. Underneath three books. Your keys on the left. The pen you used on the right." Satan froze. The smile left his face. Lucifer always sounded serious, but this was one of the few times he sounded like he was about to rip his throat out. He had found the journal. Mc didn't hear what he said, somehow, but noticed his change in demeanor.

"What's the matter, 'Tan?" Mc brushed some hair off his forehead.

"Nothing, my love. Don't worry about it. It's the usual nonsense." He moved the phone away from his ear for the moment, and then back once he was done speaking.

"Let me speak to Mc. I want them home too. Now." The tone Lucifer used to dangerous. Satan knew that was unwise. He didn't know what his plan was, but he didn't trust him at all.

"No. I will come home, but I'm not bringing Mc. I will not needlessly involve them. This will stay between us." Satan began to grow angry. He couldn't help it. Typical Lucifer, complicating matters.

"If you don't come right now, I'll drag you both back personally." Satan knew he wasn't kidding. None of his threats were empty.

"Fine. Have it your way. We'll be home shortly." Satan hung up before Lucifer could respond. By now, the entire room was staring at him. He looked totally different than he had before. He was tense, his rage obvious.

"Are we leaving? What's the matter? Did something happen?" Mc looked at him, concerned.

"I'm heading home to take care of something, but you're staying here. I promise it's nothing serious." He lied through his teeth. He didn't know why Lucifer wanted Mc there, but he knew it couldn't be good. The journal was bad news, and they were involved in no way.

"Are you sure? Lucifer said he wanted me there, right? You know how good I am at sorting out issues in your family. I really don't mind, if that's the issues." They squeezed him a little. They were so caring. Too caring.

"I'm sure. I won't act out or anything. He's probably mad about chores or something. I wonder if Mammon sold his underwear while it was my turn to do laundry again." Satan smiled. They cracked a small smile back.

"Alright. Keep me updated. I'll be waiting for you." Mc pressed a kiss to his forehead before climbing off of him.

"Simeon, before I go, can I have a quick word?" Simeon, who was comforting Luke, turned at the sound of his name.

"Of course." Simeon stood up, gesturing for Mc to take his seat next to Solomon. Luke was seated on the floor between them. Mc looked worried, but moved regardless. Solomon looked around the room, studying everyone's expressions. Simeon walked with Satan to the entry way. "What's the matter?" He asked, holding out Satan's coat for him.

"I want you to place a blessing on this building. Do not let any demon in under any circumstance. Including me. I don't care what they say. I don't have time to explain, but something is very wrong at the House of Lamentation and I don't want a single one of my brothers near Mc." He shoved his shoes on as he spoke. He hastily put on his jacket and turned to look at Simeon one last time.

"I don't know what could be wrong, but I trust you. Mc is safe in mine and Solomon's hands." Simeon let his hands fall to his sides, opening the door for Satan. He watched as he took off running in the opposite direction of the House of Lamentation. He could only stare and wait for him to be a good distance away, before shutting the door. He went back to the living room to find Mc hugging Luke, Solomon with a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Solomon." Simeon said the sorcerer's name. He stood up and walked over to him. "Satan didn't tell me what the matter was, but I need you to do a quick check of the house to make sure nobody but us is in here. Satan requested I bless the house to keep his brothers out." The expression on both of their faces was grim.

"Of course." Solomon shut his eyes and waved his hand. Once he reopened them, Simeon knew he had completed the check. "Nobody but the four of us are here."

"Thank you. Normally I would ask Luke to help me perform the blessing, but I would prefer to leave him alone for now. Will you accompany me?" Solomon nodded. Simeon led him away, leaving the room together, leaving Mc and Luke along together on the sofa in the once full room.

"What's wrong, Mc?" Luke asked them. For once, they had no clue how to respond to the boy.

"I'm not sure. Simeon might know more, but for now, we just have to wait. In the meantime, do you wanna play some more of the games?" Mc hoped to take his mind of the ordeal.

"I don't really feel like it, sorry." He sighed, worried. He had always had concerns about Mc living with demons and them seemed to be coming to fruition.

"That's alright. Do you want to watching something maybe? Simeon made cookies that are cooling in the kitchen, right? We can get those." Mc tried again to get him in better spirits.

"Let's wait for Simeon and Solomon to get back. They might be worried if they return and we're gone." Luke admitted.

"Good point. I'll turn on a movie for now. What do you want to watch?" Mc got up, leaving Luke in their spot.

"Anything." He usually had more to say. Mc could tell Luke was very worried.

"Alright." Mc went through the various dvds Solomon had stored away near the tv. After finding one they liked, they put it on. The two of them watched this movie together since there was nothing better to do. Eventually, Simeon and Solomon returned with said cookies. Rather than sit on the free couch, they all sat together. They could all tell Luke was worried. The desserts remained untouched.

"I have a surprise that I think you'll like, Luke." Solomon spoke up. Luke picked up his head. "I was told that Mc could stay the night, so we can have a big sleepover together. Does that sound good?" Luke perked up.

"Oh, good. That sounds great! I don't want to send Mc back to those icky demons. Where are we sleeping?" Luke sounded excited, making the rest of the room smile.

“We can stay in my room.” Solomon watched as the little angel jumped out of the cuddle pile and ran to gather pillows and blankets.

“It’s nice to see him happy again. I honestly think he might be more concerned than me.” Mc sighed, reaching for a cookie.

“If we knew what was wrong, we would tell you. I just know Satan asked me to place a blessing on the house.” Simeon explains.

"I figured. It's fine. We just need to hope for the best..." Mc stares at the cookie, thinking about Satan and what he might be doing right now. They just hoped he was safe.

ty for putting up with me and not putting out anything for so long... and sorry for the cliffhanger lol. really wanted this out but a. not sure how much longer it will take and b. not sure what I want the ending to be yet! lol

part two soon hopefully sorry to anon for taking so long!!!!

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selyeji · 21 days

Text

little changes

pablo gavi x reader

summary : exchanging of words, despite he’s an athlete and you’re more reserved. you interpret life similarly. (uni au)

warnings : none

neatly gathering your pens, slowly dropping them into your pencil case, zipping it. closing your neat, thin notebook, waiting for the professor to wrap up the lecture.

you scan the room, the light brown haired boy at the corner of your eye. he sat straight and proper, focusing on the board. he was indeed good-looking, curls perfectly combed, well dressed. it wasn’t a question why he was so well known. snapping from your thoughts when he turns his head around.

lecture was over, stacking your scattered notebooks on the table, slipping it onto your messenger bag. placing it over your shoulder but rested at your opposite hip. you walked around the campus, deciding what to do to pass the time.

it ends in the same destination, the library. it was your comfort space, everyone respected each others privacy, the air conditioning cools the entire place and it was quiet. sitting 2 seats away from the window, to avoid sunlight.

grabbing your notebooks, reviewing the lecture from earlier. your notes were neatly done, thin letters from the mechanical pencil you used, neutral color highlighters to bring attention to important details. spinning the pen your finger, rereading until an hour passed by. you could barely focus, you couldn’t point your finger on why. deciding to take a walk around, to refresh your mind.

the campus was big, greenery covered most of it. you continued to walk around, you were too familiar of the continuous routes you take everyday. until you were met with something unexpected, not in your routine.

there kneeled pablo gavi, on the grass, teeth gritting, brows furrowed. he had a scar on his shins, really bad, the blood gathered up, reddening the skin. the keychains on your bag stop while he continued to groan. walking up to him, pulling out your arm before doubting yourself whether to help directly him or not. pablo noticed you before you could even do anything.

“y/n… im glad you’re here. could you help me go to the clinic?” his expression immediately softened from his aching face when he faced you. “yes of course.” you said in a firm but soft voice, almost like writing with a pencil.

continuing the walk to the clinic, you pondered how he knew your name. you two never talked before, your lives never clashed together. pablo couldn’t talk much, he was still aching from the pain.

entering the door, the cool air hits your face, the smell of hospital alcohol filled your nostrils. the front desk was empty, deciding to leave pablo on the beds to find a staff. you look around, still no one to be found. slowly walking back to the bed where pablo sat at the edge at, showing clear discomfort in his face.

you knew the infection would get worse, staring at his wound. you had no choice but to help him yourself. grabbing the alcohol and cotton balls from a shelf, you sat on the sit next to the bed, facing him. “stay still, i’ll help cover it up. it will sting a bit.” you softly said, looking up at him. the window next to the bed reflected sunlight at his face.

his features became more defined. the properly combed curls from earlier was faded, strand of hair stuck to his face from sweat. the light glowed his eyes, brown hazel pearls gleaming through his dark long lashes. thick brows making his face more masculine.

you continued applying the alcohol, cleaning up the blood. he spoke up, asking about various things, whether they were related or not. it moved from how he got hurt, sports, activities, food, anything. no matter the topic was, it felt like it would never end, talking forever.

you wrapped up the wound tape around tightly. he smiled from above, thanking you. you packed up your things until pablo stopped you before leaving.

“wait y/n… i was wondering if… we could meetup again. tomorrow. just by the lake where you found me, on the benches.” his joy radiating through his words. you quietly agreed, smiling back at him. walking back to your dorm.

23 hours passed since the incident, you walk up to the meeting spot. pablo was already there, sitting one of the benches awaiting for your arrival. you quietly sat down next to him, turning his head to face yours and gave a soft smile. “why did you want to meet up?” you went straight to the point, “just wanted to be your friend, when we talked yesterday. the words spilled out my mouth, im usually cautious of what i spoke. but with you, i was comfortable. it’s like we can talk for hours without an end. despite us being opposites.” pablo said, hint of embarrassment from what he said.

from then on, you met up everyday, occasionally visiting the football practice with him. he was the universities star in football, he brought that title with him throughout the entire school. popularity was something he could not avoid. a boy approached you during the practices, it was one of pablos teammates.

fermin, one of the more popular players within the school. he was charming, smart, well known with the girls. you never exchanged words before until he often saw you in the field. approaching you mid practice, cleats still covered with cuts of grass. he was being flirtatious with you, but still soft.

feeling the gaze of gavi on the field. no matter the distance nor the height of grass, his eyes were on you, leaving a trail of touches even though he doesn’t use his hands. before you knew it training was over, helping pablo pack his things.

this was a daily routine now, walking alongside gavi back to dorms, talking about your day. “right, i forgot to mention. fermin asked to meet me tomorrow by the coffee shop down the street. you know why?” you ask pablo. the keychains hanging from your bag still jangling while walking. his heart mentally frozed but his feet still kept going forward, not stopping his steps. “i’m not sure… sorry…” his tone was quiet, gavi knew exactly what would happen.

fermin would confess his love to you, he unfortunate knew the result. you would say yes. who wouldn’t? he was a great friend and a guy. he reached your dorm as you went inside, thanking him for accompanying you. pablo went to his dorm, rushingly opening the lock. laying on the lower bunkbed, staring which was met with the mattress on top.

it was foolish he would’ve thought you two would be together. your dreams were widely different from his, but your soft personality was different from everyone else. gavi always offered a jacket when the rain splashes down from the ashy sky, carrying you back to your bed whenever you slept, always gentle to you. his spot in your life would be taken and replaced.

afternoon came around, everything was a haze. fermin just confessed feelings you cannot give back, your heart was set for someone else. he was disappointed indeed, but he respected you, your decision before leaving the cafe. you sat alone, chatter spilling out your ear to the other in the cafes busy hours. deciding to go to a nearby bridge.

the sound of footsteps of your leather shoes taps the ground, repetitively until you saw him. pablo with his navy blue hoodie, covering his brown hair. you continue going up to him, standing next to him to view the river. the sky was a gloomy but comfortable blue, insisting the rain about to pour.

you two both stare at each other for a while, takin in each others presence. “what happened back there?” gavi asked about fermin and you. he thought that only confirmation would help him let go of you. you folded your hands on the railing, using it as a pillow for your chin.

“he confessed his feelings to me, but i rejected him.” you said, more in a coldly tone. gavi was confused, why would you? “but why? he’s a great guy, smarter than me, better at football, a gentleman too. wouldn’t you want someone like that?” he asked, his brow curving.

“but i have you.” you say softly. silence, only the honking of cars could be heard behind you. your heart fluttered, there was nothing you could do to turn back. “i mean… sure you view him better than you, but i don’t love him like i do with you.” he couldn’t say anything, the words stuck to his chest, not even reaching his throat.

you never said anything out of impulse, always giving it a long thought but this one was different. your heart throbbing in your ears thinking you made him uncomfortable, unable to receive back those feelings. “im sorry, i don’t know how to keep silent, especially when my heart is speaking.” you said quietly, removing your head and hand from the railing. wanting to flee the scene before the tears catch up to the rain.

knuckles were softly held and pulled by pablo. not wanting for you to leave. the small drops of rain trickle down, felt by your hands. “y/n please stay.” he said hurriedly before words spilled out his tongue. “the day when we started talking, the memory stood by my chest even until now. i want to be a part of your life y/n. no matter what situation it is i will be there.” his voice was pleading.

the rain got heavier by the second, but it wasn’t as important than what stood in front of you. his hands gripped onto your shoulders to face him. slowly bringing your hand up to his flustered cheek, circling your thumb around. gazing into his eyes, almost seeing yourself in them.

his soft lips meet yours, wet from the rain. hugging your arms around his neck, not caring who would pass by. your lips separate from each other, you hid your head onto the crook of his neck. “let’s just go home.” you softly said, your lashes fluttering could be felt on his neck.

daily click to help palestine

a/n: got writing block while doing the reqs ermm sorry… that fermin or joao felix fic coming up though

#pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagine #football x reader #footballer x reader #football imagine

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totheblood · 1 year

Text

true blue. (two)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: both ellie and reader are u-haul lesbians and there is a jump scare

warnings: SMUT! suggestive themes, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: this chapter... idk it has me giggling and blushing.

read part one here!

Ellie felt like throwing up.

After finding out about your history with Cat, she decided that it would be best to only talk about the project with you. She knew she came off cold, but for some reason she didn’t care. When it came to Cat, Ellie almost always shut down, and when it came to the idea that Cat may have also stuck her tongue down your throat, Ellie felt physically sick. A part of her felt bad about having feelings for you, but another part of her was deeply disturbed by the fact that you were into Cat. She also didn’t like that you still had the photo up on your Instagram.

A part of her also knew that she was being dramatic, but the less rational side of her was winning over at the moment. She found herself ranting to Dina about it almost 5 times a week, or everytime they smoked together. At about three hits in, Ellie was already ranting about you and your pretty hair and your pretty lips and how they were tainted by Cat. Like clockwork Dina would roll her eyes, rip the joint from Ellie’s hand, and diffuse it in the ashtray they made at Color Me Mine.

“You need to get over this, man.”

“I’m trying.”

So here Ellie sat, writing the second part of the project in your dorm and refusing to make eye contact with you. You almost instantly noticed an immediate shift in Ellie’s demeanor when it changed weeks ago, but you were at your breaking point. At this point it almost seemed that anything you did would annoy her, or whenever you spoke she would act shocked as if she forgot you were there. Not only was it extremely aggravating, but it was also getting in the way of the quality of your project.

“Did I do something?” You questioned, breaking the silence Ellie was enjoying causing her eyes to shoot up to yours. Yeah, you fucked my-

“No.” She grumbled as she continued writing.

“Are you sure? Because the first day I thought we got along really well, and sometimes I just say everything that’s on my mind and I don’t realize I’m doing anything wrong until well-” You gestured to her with an almost panicked look on your face. “This.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tired is all.” Ellie mumbled as she went back to her work, pretending to not pay you any mind. All you could do at this moment was roll your eyes and try to get back to work without anxiety overcoming you.

“You’re just like my fucking ex.” You mumbled under your breath as well.

“What?” Ellie snapped her head up at you, unsure if she heard you correctly. Because if she had heard you correctly, you were comparing her to Cat.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, this time it was your turn to avoid eye contact with her.

“No, you had something to say so say it.” She continued, her voice rough. This time you looked directly in her eyes, something behind them she just couldn’t place.

“I said, ‘you’re just like my ex’. Happy?” You gave her your best fake smile and went back to your work. It had never occurred to Ellie that maybe you hated Cat as much as she did. The difference between you and her, however, was that she would never keep up a photo of her making out with Cat for over a year.

“What does that mean?” She snapped with an almost immediate need to defend herself.

“It means that things were nice at first until you started being an asshole with no real explanation of what I have done.” You answered simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“I didn’t do that.” Ellie lied.

“You totally did!” You protested. “We were vibing, you were like telling me about your life and I was telling you about mine and you were fucking laughing. Now, you don’t even crack a smile.”

“I smi-”

“You do not, Ellie!” You took a deep breath before starting again. “I thought we were going to be friends. I wanted to be friends. You’re funny and hot, but you’re being a real bitch right now and I don’t like that. I’ve done it before and I really don’t have the heart in me to do it again.”

Ellie blinked at you a few times, the guilt from giving you the cold shoulder finally setting in. A part of her really wanted to blush at the compliments thrown her way, but she was overwhelmed by the idea that her behavior was mirroring Cat’s. You really were an innocent party in all of this and she took her frustrations out on you, the cute pen dealer.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through a tough time.” She lied, not wanting to reveal that the person you’re comparing her too right now is the reason she’s been acting this way. “ I know what that’s like, my ex was like that too and I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

She saw your hard exterior falter at her sentiment and the guilt inside Ellie began to build again.

“I had no idea, Ellie, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to push but if you ever want to talk about what’s going on, I am here.” You seemed completely genuine and that tore Ellie’s heart to bits. In an attempt to be kind you reached out and placed your hand on Ellie’s forearm again, right over the tattoo. “Plus, he didn’t deserve you.”

Ellie couldn’t help but snort at the comment, earning a confused look from you.

“She.” Ellie laughed. “She didn’t deserve me.”

You covered your hands with your face laughing at your own heteronormativity.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You apologized, moving your hands from your face to stare at her freckled own trying not to burst out laughing again.

“You really couldn’t tell?” Ellie teased, gesturing to her forearm tattoo, earning a giggle from you and a red face from her.

“I mean, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” You teased back. “She’s smart, she’s funny, and she likes girls? Nuh-uh, too good to be true.”

As funny as the situation was, Ellie felt a deep warmth at your words. She wanted to believe you were flirting with her, but as of two minutes ago you had thought she was straight.

“Good with her fingers too. The whole package.” She added, a dimly lit fire behind her eyes.

“Oh yeah?” You feigned surprise. “I wouldn’t know. She should show me.” You leaned forward, pushing your laptop to the side table and getting dangerously close to Ellie.

Ellie almost choked on her own spit as you leaned closer. She eyed you up and down, her eyes lingering a little bit longer on the space between shirt and skin where she could see your cleavage poking through.

Without hesitation, Ellie threw her notebook to the side, leaned in and captured your lips with hers. You reciprocated immediately, your tongue trying to fight it’s way into her mouth. She parted her lips for you causing a moan to slip out of your mouth into hers. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Ellie’s mind was racing. What the fuck was she doing, she thought. Not even an hour ago she was barely talking to you and now the sounds that were coming out of your mouth were about to make her come undone. Her hands wandered down your body, tracing the curves of your hips before slipping under your shirt. The feeling of her warm hands on your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Again, you moaned softly into her mouth as she teased your nipples, rolling them between her fingers. Breaking the kiss, Ellie moved her lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your hand moved to caress her hair, grabbing it lightly. She gently moved you backwards on your bed, never stopping her assault on your neck, not wanting your whines to stop. She was going to lose her fucking mind. As she worked her way down, her hand slipped into your pants, finding its way to your wet center. She began circling her fingers in what felt like slow motion as she peppered kisses along your collarbone.

“Ellie..” you moaned, causing her to look up at you. The minute she did, you pulled her head upwards, attaching your lips to hers once again. Ellie felt like she was fucking floating, but her movement never stopped. As she picked up her pace she reveled in how you were squirming beneath her. She made a mental note to remember this moment for later.

With practiced ease, Ellie slipped a finger inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips and causing you to separate from her. She pumped in and out, curling her finger just right to hit the gummy spot inside and making you scream out her name one more time. “You’re doing so fucking good.” Ellie soothed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You writhed against her hand, your hips bucking in rhythm with her movements.

As your pleasure built to a crescendo, Ellie added a second finger, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you came hard, your body shaking with pleasure.

Ellie pulled her hand out of your pants, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied smirk on her face. Your body relaxed into the bed as you tried to catch your breath. She sat back up, nearly panting, but still soaking wet.

“Well, that was quite the show,” you managed to say between gasps. Ellie grinned and leaned in for another kiss before sitting back on her knees. “Looks like you'll have to show me what you've got too, baby."

E: I FUCKED HER.

D: WHAT????

D:.. who?

D: if it’s cat i’m going to go to wherever you are and break your rib.

E: Not Cat.

D: YOU DIDN’T.

D: cute project partner?

E: Yes.

D: it’s giving u-haul lesbian

E: It’s giving best sex of my life.

D: really??

E: REALLY. And I did all the work.

D: you are a freak

E: She’s so fucking hot… I don’t know what to do with myself.

E: I can’t do this project with her, I’m just gonna think about finger fucking her the whole time.

E: I miss her.

D: oh my god

D: get a grip

E: I’m TRYING.*(@HFh3uq9)(U

D:...

D: anyways.

D: are you coming to the party tonight?

E: I will be there.

Later that night Ellie found herself tucked into a sweaty frat party. Dina and Jesse really wanted to go and Ellie was still somewhat disoriented from her morning with you so she thought there was no better place to sober up. She was nursing a red cup with a brown colored liquid inside when she almost keeled over at the sight in front of her. There you stood in an impossibly tight dress, throwing back the very same gross drink Ellie had in her cup. Ellie looked around for any sight of Dina or Jesse but assumed they had found a quiet spot to make out and grind on each other for the rest of the night

She watched from the wall as you threw your hands in the air and started dancing to the very loud music with your friends. You were obviously drunk, but it was still nice to see the carefree side of you that she wasn’t able to see in the classroom. In your dorm room, however-

“Ellie!” You screamed across the dimly lit room, stumbling towards her and bringing her in for a tight hug. Ellie tried to say your name as enthusiastically as you had hers, but her voice got lost as you pressed your body up against hers.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, the giddiness in your voice shining through. You were standing ridiculously close to her with your hand on the wall behind her, right above her head. You were smiling as wide as you possibly could and Ellie couldn’t help the smile on her face that grew each moment she was in your presence.

“Looking for you, obviously.” She teased, eyeing you up and down causing you to giggle into the crook of your neck. Her hand moved up to pinch at your waist, her eyes now steady on yours.

“Aw, look who’s all confident after fucking me.” Your smirk, coupled with the already free flowing alcohol in her system, caused her to laugh. “We’ll see how confident you are after my turn.”

Ellie swore you were going to kiss her, and you almost had if it wasn’t for your name being called behind you by your friends who gestured at you to come. You turned to look at them and nodded before you turned back to Ellie.

“We’re going to another party? Want to come with?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt.

Ellie sighed, looking around the room for Dina but seeing no sight of her. What Ellie did know was that Dina wouldn’t leave the house without her, and it was an unspoken rule that she would never leave the party without Dina. She wanted to leave with you, but girlcode takes priority.

“I can’t.” She responded. “I’m with friends and I can’t leave them.” Ellie hates to admit this, but she took great pride at the sight of your face falling.

“Oh well, see you Monday.” You somberly replied, waving goodbye and running to join your friends.

“See you Monday.” Ellie said under her breath, practically to herself as you were already out of sight.

Ellie found herself upstairs after that, searching for Dina and Jesse so she could go home. However, she found someone she wasn’t looking for, or rather, they found her.

A cold hand tapped Ellie’s shoulder, causing her to turn around in relief that Dina had found her.

“Dina, thank go-” Her words got caught in her throat as she saw her ex standing in front of her with a sickly sweet smile on her face.

“Ellie! So good to see you, I see the tattoo is healing?” She began, ignoring the dirty look Ellie was throwing her way.

“What do you want, Cat?” Ellie spat. It was evident that Cat wasn’t being nice, and Ellie wanted her to get to the point.

“Well, I just wanted to say how cute it was that you would flirt with my ex to make me jealous.” She disclosed, the smile on her face strong.

“I wasn’t trying to ma-”

“It worked, I’m jealous.” She simply stated, moving closer to Ellie. Ellie was frozen, never in a million years would she ever think that Cat would be saying any of this. She leaned in close to whisper in Ellie’s ear.

“Swing by my dorm room tomorrow, my roommates are gone for the weekend.” She pulled away from Ellie, smiled again, and patted her on the chest before walking away back into the party.

And to be completely honest, Ellie wasn’t sure what she was going to do.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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