#she mentored you. was vulnerable with you and had you there with her when she met her mother again. all while complicit in breaking you

[eruukat]

in el terms i have recently* replayed kotor but im missing bastila so bad. and cutscene comps for kotor SUCK the last time i went looking for tattooine clips, op slaughtered all of the tusken raiders just to get some czerka credits WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YUO so anyway methinks ill have to replay it myself. or something.

*translation: like 3 years ago

[mistyorchid]

Unrequited

Logan Howlett x mutant fem!reader

Summary: Your deep-seated fear of rejection is the only barrier preventing you from kissing the smug grin off of Logan's face. Thankfully, Logan can smell how much you want him. *reader's power is optimism, which Logan loves distrusts. Warnings: MDNI. porn with plot, no use of y/n, implied age gap, reader is 21+, masturbation (fem!), scent kink, oral (fem! receiving), voyeurism, size difference, pussy worship, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, bub, doll, good girl), mention of unprotected p in v, using Logan's hair as handlebars. wc: 3.2k

Your world used to revolve around men. Now, your life revolves around the duty of saving it. If yearning for boys who never liked you back was an Olympic sport, you'd definitely win gold.

Everyone was in a good mood, having just returned from a government-sanctioned mission. The world needs the X-Men. You belonged to a community that respected your unique abilities. Powers aside, you were still a young woman yearning for romance. You forgot how it felt to be embarrassingly invested in a one-sided crush until you met Logan.

Your first mission seemed simple enough: act like Logan's arm candy for the night to investigate New York's elusive anti-mutant club. Memorize the names of club members, hide a mic in the manager's coat. In and out.

Unfortunately, Logan was more focused on how high the cut of your dress was. The unforgiving pink latex material suffocated your soft body and exaggerated the protruding curves of your breasts. As Charles described it, you needed to look like a liberated woman. The manager had a soft spot for confidence, and Charles explained that power attracts power.

Logan wished his hard cock was liberated from the uncomfortable friction caused by his slacks. That night, he learned that beauty truly is pain.

He watched as you glided around the room, earning lustful stares from the human members. Logan was ordered to blend into the crowd and allow you to complete the mission. His usual stoic demeanor was replaced with a charged, jealous glare.

"You're compromising the mission, Logan. I thought I taught you better," Charles tutted. His bald mentor checked in on their progress using cerebro's telepathic power.

Logan swatted his forehead, momentarily disoriented at the intrusion of Charles.

"Not my fault you put miss goody two-shoes in that god-awful dress," he snarled. "She's out of her element, and you know it."

"Her powers are extremely useful in this situation," Charles sighed. "You may not trust her, but her bubbly personality is the key to securing the club's trust. Just let her work . . . alone."

When the pressure in his head subsided, Logan knew that Charles no longer supervised the unholy thoughts bouncing against the adamantium confines of his brain.

He drifted to the bar and sat down, positioning the stool so he could maintain visual of your progress. Your kind eyes crinkled as you laughed and playfully swatted the manager's bicep. He painfully recalled the moment you revealed your powers to the group.

A month earlier, the X-Men gathered in the danger room to discuss how to approach the mission.

"The manager is emotionally vulnerable at this time. Surrounded by humans whose lives revolve around hate and mutant discrimination." Charles rubbed his temple to alleviate his anger.

"What is the opposite of hate?" Charles asked, turning his colleagues into students once again.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Please tell me it's not love, for Christ sakes."

"Optimism. The enemy of hate is hopefulness. Now, everyone, please give a warm welcome to our newest recruit." Charles gestured to a woman who was the physical embodiment of those girly 90s rom-coms Logan secretly enjoyed.

Her smile reached her eyes, symbolizing genuine happiness. She sported a vintage Talking Heads tee with an image of a lopsided smiley face. Logan's eyes drifted to the tiniest shorts he's ever seen, stopping just under the swell of your ass. Its whimsical star pattern complimented your sparkling teeth.

"Hey, guys. I'm so grateful to be here!" You cheered. Logan could tell you caught him staring by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you timidly explained, "Sorry about the get-up. My uniform's not ready yet."

Logan watched as you surveyed the room, eyes silently acknowledging Jean, Ororo, Scott, and Beast.

You confidently returned Logan's gaze with a dismissive scoff.

Logan found himself inexplicably drawn to your cheeriness. Usually, he distrusted kindness. It was a quality that was manipulated to deceive him countless times throughout the arduous decades of life he had unwillingly lived through.

Your benevolence seemed organic, almost innate.

You continued, "My power is optimism. In addition to what Charles explained, I can extract positive values from anyone and replace their malicious thoughts and intentions. Basically, I'll help the manager override his hatred of mutants. Hate is taught . . . I'll teach him a different lesson. One of hope, equality, and human-mutant coexistence."

Logan felt a blush brewing behind his rugged cheeks. Your eloquent explanation exuded more wisdom than he expected from a "sunshine and rainbows" type of girl. You matched his trademark cynicism with a grounded perspective of reality, but still saw the good in others.

Before Logan chose to introduce himself, Scott raised an eyebrow, silently teasing him for blushing at your words. Logan wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being right about his budding interest in the new recruit.

He mockingly countered, "That's great, a 'glass half-full' mutant has never gotten us killed before. What's your code name, Cheshire Cat? Twinkle Toes?"

Scott caught Logan's eyes and mouthed, "Nice," with a sly smirk.

You wouldn't let him bask in the reflection of tears falling down your cheeks.

Logan cursed himself as you turned to face everyone but him. "I don't have a code name. I've got nothing to hide," you coolly responded.

Your face contorted with pain as you recalled your first interaction with Logan. After you'd successfully earned the trust of the anti-mutant club manager, however, he followed you around like a lost puppy.

Everyone was confused. This behavior was extremely irregular for a man who struggled with trusting long-term friends, let alone a woman he'd only known for a month.

He was addicted to the sweet aura of unbridled positivity that radiated from you. A tale old as time, darkness intertwining with light.

The jealousy he felt during your first mission played a significant factor in his romantic interest. It took all of his restraint (and Charles' disapproving words) not to slash the throats of every man who lusted over your latex-clad form.

You remembered Logan sitting at the bar, clearly uninterested in the mission at hand. Uninterested in you.

Clearly, communication was a skill you both needed to hone.

"Nice work, sunshine." Logan clapped a hand against your shoulder, congratulating you on another successful mission.

He was genuinely proud of you. You were awarded a medal of honor by the president for using positive forces to bridge the gap between mutants and humans.

Picking up your pace, you whipped your head around to acknowledge Logan. "Thanks. You know how much I hate that nickname, right?"

As the rest of the crew filed inside the mansion, excitedly discussing how to wind down after a job well done, Logan used his leverage on your shoulder to spin you around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Love to see how red your face gets." A smug grin was plastered over his stupid, annoying, handsome face.

You paused at the mansion's entrance. "Whatever, Logan. I'm not in the mood for your belittlement."

Slipping past the kinetic hallways of mutant students, you swung open the door to your room and started to undress, hoping to destress after a long day. You shrugged off your new uniform and slipped on your favorite Talking Heads tee, not bothering to wear shorts.

"God, so annoying." You sighed, crashing face-down into the bed. You replayed the interaction with Logan, hurt etching its way into your heart.

I won't let him get to me. He makes me feel like a fuckin' teenager!

"Nice work, sunshine," you mocked in a gruff voice.

Logan doubted your abilities, ignored you on your first mission, and patronized you with nicknames. It wasn't fun being the butt of a joke at the hands of someone you secretly admired. You wondered if his recent interest in you was malicious or sincere.

Despite the telltale signs, you seriously doubted that Logan was romantically interested in you.

Never chosen, always on the prowl for scraps of affection. Never again. Your kindness had been taken advantage of before. You quickly learned that the only person who truly loved you was yourself.

Sunshine. The crinkle of his eyes, those stupid tufts of hair that make him look like a cat.

Your hands slowly slipped under the hem of your shirt, inching towards your breasts.

He was staring at my ass when I met him. Wasn't he?

Your right hand softly tweaked your sensitive nipples. Sighing, you allowed yourself to toy with the thin band of your underwear before circling your clit.

Soft moans quickly grew into labored huffs of desperation. Lost in the gratifying haze of your pleasure, you forgot an important detail about your new living arrangement.

Logan couldn't believe the sounds he was hearing.

It's as if God himself probed his mind and decided to fulfill his deepest desires.

A beautiful arrangement of moans and sighs traveled through the hollow wood wall that separated your rooms. To confirm that he wasn't hallucinating, Logan tentatively pressed his ear against the wall.

"Oh, fuck," he heard you whine in a hushed voice.

He could hear the spontaneous hitch of your breath. "Ah! Logan . . . fuuuuck."

His body reacted to the utterance of his name, unconsciously unsheathing his claws.

It took him five seconds to bridge the distance between his front door and yours.

An abrupt knock on your door forced you to pause the act of self-love you were so invested in.

"Hello? Who is it?"

Logan smirked before answering, "It's me. You okay in there? Sounds like you're having a hard time breathin, bub."

That cocky motherfucker. You slapped a hand against your mouth to muffle your surprise. He probably heard everything, you thought, moving to open the door.

"Logan! I- I'm so sorry." You started playing with the loose strands of hair framing your face. He was leaning on the door frame, his large body teasingly blocking the entrance.

His eyes flitted to your hand, noting the nervous tick. As the scent of your hair wafted into his perceptive nostrils, his pupils dilated. He noticed the unmistakable smell of your arousal.

"No need to apologize, sunshine. Just wanted to make sure you were okay." Logan tried to ignore the enticing scent emanating from your body. His eyes searched the room for a point to fixate on. Anything but your pouty lips.

He registered bare legs. The adorable way you were standing, your right leg shifted over the left to distribute your weight. Any decorum he had vanished when his eyes landed on the girly panties you were wearing.

You inched closer to his broad frame, looking up into his downcast eyes. They were still trained on your lower half.

Sunshine. The heavy weight of his gaze. Familiar hallmarks of past interactions. Except this time, he was gawking at your panties instead of those cosmic booty shorts.

"I can smell you. Can't be that unbearable to be around, hm?" Logan teased, finally making eye contact.

"No, you're still an asshole. I'm done playing hot and cold with you." Your clothed tits grazed his taut stomach.

"You want this? Because if not, I'll take it like a man and leave." Logan asked, searching your face for any signs of hesitation.

You averted your eyes. "Do you want me?"

He understood why your response was laced with insecurity. His previous actions had placed a seed of doubt in your mind. Logan gently raised your chin, tilting your eyes into his. "Of course I do, doll. I might be a stubborn asshole, but I'm not too stubborn to admit that I want you. Always have, since I first met ya."

Shock flooded your features. A charged silence lingered in the air.

You caught Logan staring at your lips.

"Just kiss me, you big oaf." You brazenly commanded.

The arm that leaned against the door frame descended to the small of your back, pulling you close to his chest.

Logan closed the gap, not wanting to give you any reason to doubt his feelings for you.

It started sweet and timid, an innocent collage of bumping noses and delicate gasps. When you pulled apart for air, a thin string of spit connected your bottom lips.

You decided you needed his lips on yours in a drastically different way.

"Since you're here, think you can help a girl out?" You pushed yourself away from Logan, palms extended to his chest. You sat on the edge of your bed, slowly spreading your legs.

Logan choked on his words. "I, uh . . . I'd love to." Once in front of you, he kneeled down on his knees.

The playful contrast between your vintage Talking Heads tee and the lacey pink panties that covered your most intimate area made him dizzy.

The frilly nature of it was enough to make him crazy, but they just had to have a cute little bow at the top.

Logan ground himself into his jeans, its denim fabric the only layer separating his cock from the air.

"You sure about this, doll?" he asked, reluctantly drawing his eyes away from your cunt to analyze yours.

You tentatively weaved your fingers through his hair, paying special attention to the tufts. When he leaned into your touch, you knew that the admission of his affection was genuine.

Your hands ghosted over his, pulling them to land on the wide expanse of your thighs.

"I need you, Logan. I want this. Want you."

That was all Logan needed to hear before he hooked four fingers around the elastic of your panties, slowly moving them off of your legs.

You shivered when the room's cool air met your bare cunt.

Logan hooked his strong arms under your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed with ease. "Much better, doll. Wanna be close to her," he drawled, resting your legs over his shoulders.

His mouth hovered over you, fanning warm breaths that made you throb with anticipation.

Logan's lips ghosted over where the bow on your panties was and descended where you needed him most.

He gently kissed your clit, earning a soft gasp.

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" You whined a high-pitched "Mhm . . ."

Logan suddenly licked a broad stripe from your hole to your clit, collecting your wetness on the tip of his tongue.

"Need your words, bub. Wanna hear you."

He pulled away momentarily, massaging the sensitive flesh of your thighs. "Oh my god. Yes, I love it . . . please don't stop," you whined.

"That's a good-" Logan paused to pool the release still on his tongue and let gravity drip it onto your folds. "-girl. Fuck."

You sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth. He stared at your cunt fluttering open and closed in response to the contact, aching to be filled.

He would tend to that later. Right now, he wanted to make you feel loved, cared for.

"You taste so fuckin' sweet, doll." Logan cooed, tracing the sensitive outline of your hole before sinking two of his thick fingers into your warmth.

Your hands found purchase in his hair, gasping at the sight of him stretching your walls. He slowly thrust his fingers in and out, steadily building the tension in your body.

"Yeah, hold onto me . . . guide me where you need me." The soft squelch of your wetness made him groan into your pussy.

"Fuck . . . you sound so beautiful, baby." Logan praised, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your clit once again.

He alternated between languidly enveloping your folds with his mouth and licking urgently at your sensitive bud.

"Ah! I- I'm close, Logan." You mewled, hips suddenly rising off the bed. The spontaneous action made your clit catch on the ridge of his strong nose.

You locked his head in between your legs, thighs abruptly closing due to the contact.

"You like that, hm?" he teased. You nodded rapidly, capturing your bottom lip in an attempt to subdue the embarrassing whines Logan was drawing out from you.

Once your thighs rested back on the bed, Logan pulled your legs even closer. You couldn't believe your eyes.

He started making out with your pussy.

Logan's mouth opened and closed again and again, latching onto your swollen lips. His pursed lips glistened with your release.

He actually sighed into your body when a particularly noisy kiss made you clench around his fingers.

"That's my good girl. So responsive . . . can you come for me, baby? Wanna taste you."

He curled his fingers, coaxing the spongy pad of your cervix on every thrust. His palm met your pussy with a steady plap, burying his fingers into your crying cunt.

Your legs started shaking. Unable to stave off your release, your thighs fluttered around Logan's head.

"Oh, fuck, Logan . . ." you moaned, sharply tugging his hair while falling backward onto the bed. You couldn't bring yourself to watch his sly grin as you came undone around him.

"Yes . . . ohmygodohmygod, ah!" You incoherently babbled.

Logan playfully slapped your puffy folds, stimulating you through your orgasm.

"Aw, would 'ya look at that . . . your pussy's blushing just for me, doll." He pressed another kiss to your pulsing clit, smirking into your skin.

He slowly removed your legs from his shoulders and caged your body under his, arms outstretched so as not to crush you.

Logan traced the plush outline of your bottom lip, teasing, "Speechless, huh? Guess I'm not that big of an asshole."

Your pupils dilated as you caressed the rugged expanse of his cheek. You hummed a soft, "Mhm . . ." in response, too fucked out to mumble something more comprehensible.

"Figured you deserved to feel good after what I put you through." Logan averted his eyes. He felt guilty, opening his mouth to apologize, but you silenced him with a sloppy kiss.

You tapped his right arm, silently asking him to lay down on the bed next to you. He moved to cuddle you, but you turned around and straddled his pelvis.

Grinding over his clothed bulge, you teased, "No need to apologize, Logan." Your release was creating a noticeable wet spot on the faded denim.

His hips bucked up to meet your tantalizing movements. His back arched at the thought of his bare cock finally feeling the plush embrace of your cunt.

"Let me make it up to you . . . you deserve to feel good, too."

Logan's hands rested on your torso, stilling your hips.

"If you keep moving like that, I won't get to come inside of you. You want me to fill you up? Hm?"

You mischievously dragged your cunt over the fly of his jeans, clit catching on the button.

"Who said you couldn't come in me more than once?"

Logan wrapped his arms behind the small of your back, pulling you to crash against his broad chest. His lips found your ear.

He whispered, "You fuckin' tease. Be careful what you wish for, bub. I have regenerative powers, remember? Could fuck you for hours, if you let me."

You suddenly nipped at his earlobe. "Oh, yeah? prove it. I'm not so sure, old man."

Logan propped up your chin, caressing the supple skin of your cheeks. Eyes darting between your doe eyes and pouty lips, he responded, "If I didn't heal so fast, you'd be the death of me."

You sealed his promise with a sweet kiss. The only lack of communication in your blossoming relationship would occur during intimate moments like these, lips slotted into the other's, ethereal sighs mingling with his intoxicating groans.

Whew! I spent a lot of time refining this one. I'm slowly working on improving the pacing and atmosphere of my work. Thank you for reading! Reblogs are extremely appreciated :)

[cyberesc]

THE BOY IS MINE. (PART 1?)

pairing: Prohero!Bakugo x Prohero!Reader

rating: angst, requited unrequited love (?)

note: since mha ended I thought I should clean up some of my old drafts, part 2?👀

part 2

The city of Musutafu was alive with chaos, the roar of explosions filled the air as you and Dynamight chased down a villain. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you leaped from rooftop to rooftop, your focus laser-sharp on the figure darting through the streets below. This villain had been wreaking havoc all day, and it was up to you and Dynamight to put an end to their rampage.

But even in the heat of battle, it was impossible not to feel the tension that had been building between you and your hero partner. Bakugo had always been a force of nature, his presence intimidating, and his skill unmatched.

Although you’ve worked together since you were sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency, your heart still pounded with the thrill of working with him, the current number two hero in Japan. Working alongside him had been both a blessing and a curse—because somewhere along the way, you had found yourself falling for him. And that had complicated everything.

Bakugo had always been focused and determined to reach the top, something he’d spoken about often when you were alone together. It wasn't uncommon for you to end up patrolling with him, just the two of you, sharing quiet conversations during those fleeting peaceful moments. There were times when he opened up, letting down his prickly exterior just enough to show you a sliver of vulnerability. Those moments had led you to believe there was something more between you, something unspoken but deeply felt.

It was why, as you jumped from building to building, you couldn't help but glance over at him more than usual. His face was set in a determined scowl, as always, but you’d learned to read the subtleties of his expression, the way his eyes softened when he was in a good mood, or how his posture relaxed ever so slightly when he was around you. You wondered if he felt the same spark you did.

As a pro hero, it was inevitable for Bakugo to take on sidekicks, a mandatory responsibility held by the commission. Among these sidekicks was Hitomi Mori, aka Shockwave, a newcomer to the agency who had become a thorn in your side. Hitomi had a knack for showing off, constantly trying to one-up you and prove she was the better hero. But it wasn’t just about the spotlight—she also sought Bakugo’s attention.

Your feelings for Bakugo weren’t exactly a secret, not to those who paid close enough attention. And unfortunately, one person had been paying close attention: Hitomi.

Bakugo had mellowed out since high school, the consequences of the war having deep seeded impact. In his own way, he was sweet—people who cared enough to read between the lines would see his kindness in the way he took care of those around him. He’d never admit it but he grew soft, it was evident in the way he handled his sidekicks. He understood more than anyone the anxiety and determination it took to prove oneself as an up-and-coming hero, and he took it upon himself to mentor his sidekicks with a level of care that made others take notice.

You’d catch Hitomi in the break room trying to flirt with him but to his credit, Bakugo seemed completely uninterested, barely acknowledging her advances with a dismissive grunt or a roll of his eyes. If anything, it made her try harder, convinced that his indifference was just him playing hard to get.

But lately, there have been whispers around the agency. Office gossip buzzing with speculation about Dynamight and Shockwave, suggesting that there was more to their relationship than just mentor and mentee. After all, she was a constant presence by his side, needing more training as a newly hired sidekick.

You brushed it off at first, certain that it was just idle chatter, but sometimes doubt crept in your thoughts, couldn’t help but question if there might be some truth to the rumors, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

While you and Bakugo soared through the air, hot on the villain’s trail. You landed on a rooftop, ready to make another leap, when something caught your eye—a massive electronic billboard across the street. It displayed a celebrity gossip segment, the headline flashing in bold, obnoxious letters:

“DYNAMIGHT DATING HIS SIDEKICK? HERO ROMANCE IN FULL BLOOM!”

You didn’t believe it. But when you saw the accompanying photo, your heart dropped to your stomach. The image showed Bakugo—or someone with a striking resemblance to him—with his arm around a pretty young sidekick you recognized as Hitomi. They were smiling at each other, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Your vision blurred at the edges as the words on the screen seemed to taunt you. The candid moment captured in that photo didn’t look posed or forced—it looked genuine. Real.

For a split second you clung to the hope that it was all a lie, but then you noticed the sign in the background, blurry and unfocused, but unmistakable—a hidden konbini that Bakugo frequented during his breaks between patrols.

It was a place few people knew about, a spot Bakugo had mentioned in passing. Seeing it in the photo made it all too real, solidifying the rumor in your mind.

Everything you had let yourself hope for, every secret glance and every careful word, crumbled in an instant. The world tilted on its axis, leaving you feeling unsteady. How could you have been so stupid? You had let yourself believe that you had something special with him, that maybe he was just taking his time before making a move. But now it seemed that he had only been keeping you at arm's length while he entertained someone else.

“Hey!” Bakugo’s voice crackled through the intercom, snapping you back to reality, but it was too late.

The villain, sensing an opportunity, lashed out with a powerful blast of energy. You felt the impact before you could react, sending you flying backwards. Pain exploded in your abdomen as you crashed into the wall of a nearby building, the world spinning around you. You hit the ground hard, gasping for breath, the wind knocked out of your chest making it difficult to think.

“Y/H/N!” Bakugo’s voice was sharp with panic, but it sounded distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears. You tried to push yourself up, but your body refused to cooperate, the pain too overwhelming.

The villain advanced, ready to strike again, but Bakugo was there in an instant. He didn’t hesitate, unleashing a large blast that sent the villain crashing to the ground, unconscious.

As soon as the threat was neutralized, Bakugo was at your side, his hands hovering over you, unsure of where to touch. “Y/H/N, what the hell happened?!”

You could only manage a weak shake of your head, your vision blurring from the pain and the overwhelming weight of your heartbreak. “’m fine,” you mumbled, though you knew it was far from the truth.

“Like hell you are!” Bakugo snapped, his voice a mix of anger and concern. He quickly called for backup, his eyes never leaving you as he barked orders into his comm. “Stay with me, Y/H/N. We’re getting you out of here.”

Soon enough the ambulance arrived. As the medics carefully lifted you onto a stretcher, you could feel Bakugo’s eyes on you, burning with the intensity of a flame ready to ignite, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t be around him right now, not when your heart felt like it was in pieces.

The medics fussed over you, bandaging your scraped and bruised side and insisting that you head to the infirmary for a proper checkup. You nodded numbly, barely hearing them as you replayed the scene from the billboard over and over in your head. The pain in your side was nothing compared to the pain in your heart, the realization that whatever you had hoped for with Bakugo was nothing more than a fantasy.

Later, back at the agency, you locked yourself in the bathroom, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale, tired, but more than that, you looked broken. Why didn’t he just tell you if he was seeing someone?

The pain in your chest tightened until it was hard to breathe. You remembered the conversations you had shared, how he had told you, in his own way, that dating wasn’t on his mind. That he was too focused on his career, on becoming the number one hero. And like a fool, you had believed him.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to hold back tears that threatened to spill. Memories of moments between you and Bakugo flashed through your mind, each one now tainted with doubt. Quiet conversations during late-night patrols, times he comforted you during a mission gone wrong, homemade bentos, and the small gestures—like the way he brushed a stray hair from your face or the rare smile he’d give you after a lame joke.

Bakugo Katsuki was a hero who didn’t need distractions, and you were a distraction. That’s all you had ever been. You couldn’t bear the thought of facing him again, of pretending that everything was okay when all you wanted to do was scream at him for breaking your heart.

So you avoided him. In the days that followed, you changed your patrol routes, swapped shifts with other heroes, and did everything you could to make sure you wouldn’t run into him. When he called, you let it go to voicemail. When he knocked on your office door, you pretended you weren’t there. It was cowardly, you knew that, but you couldn’t face him—not when the pain was still so raw.

Bakugo was relentless, though. He kept trying to reach out, his messages growing more and more concerned, until they finally stopped altogether. That hurt more than anything, the silence that followed. It was like he had given up on you, just as you had given up on him.

You never learned the truth about the billboard, afraid that the rumor would be confirmed. You never found out that the gossip magazine had fabricated the whole thing to stir up drama. Bakugo wasn’t dating his sidekick, and he never had been. But the damage was done, and you didn’t give him the chance to explain, to tell you that the only reason he kept his distance was because he didn’t want to hurt you—because he knew he couldn’t give you what you deserved.

Bakugo had always been driven by a relentless need to be the best. His world was dominated by the quest to be number one. In the midst of his single-minded pursuit, he often overlooked the people around him, including you.

You didn’t know it but a part of him cared deeply for you, even if he rarely showed it. He always admired your strength and dedication. You were one of the few people who truly understood the weight of his dreams and the sacrifices he made. That’s what made it all the more painful that he could consider ever being with you.

Bakugo couldn't shake the feeling that he was unworthy of you. He was aware of his flaws—his abrasive nature, his relentless drive, and the emotional walls he built to shield himself. He believed you deserve someone who could be fully present, someone who could offer you more than just fleeting moments of affection with his chaotic schedule.

He feared that your love and commitment might be wasted on someone who couldn’t reciprocate it in the way you truly deserved. So, he kept his distance, believing it was for the best, protecting you from the inevitable heartbreak.

His fears were solidified by the silence that followed your last encounter, Your unanswered calls and messages were a painful confirmation. The way you avoided him—your refusal to meet his eyes, the abrupt end to your conversations—only reinforced his beliefs that he couldn’t be what you need.

As much as you tried to convince yourself that you were better off, that it was better to focus on your own career, your own path as a hero, the ache in your chest refused to fade. The image of Bakugo smiling at someone else, was burned into your mind, a constant reminder of what could have been.

What should have been.

But it wasn’t, and you didn’t know how to move forward when it was still dragging you down, pulling you under with every step you tried to take.

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/edit/translate/copy onto any other sites.

[targaryenluvs]

— HUNGER GAMES

a/n: look at my cute lil smiley fin 😭 god i love hunger games so much you don’t understand it’s my comfort movies and finn is my comfort character ❤️

RED MARKED STORIES HAVE DARK THEMES. READ WARNINGS PLEASE.

FINNICK ODAIR

— want and desire (req) dark themes

— summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but apparently your fate had been signed, as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him, no matter how hard you tried.

— spring cleaning (blurb req)

— summary: finnick finally decides to clean out the garage with your help after you asking him forever.

— victors spoils

— summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

— lonely waters

— summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you.. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.

— my people ft annie cresta

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

— miss officer

— summary: you’re tasked with training finnick odair for war and to fight in the captiol. only problem? he’s completely enamoured with you.

— breakups and makeups

— summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you make up or break up? again?

— damage control & lifeline (anon blurb)

— summary: finnick and his mentor getting into a fake relationship for damage control after peeta and katniss’ stunt at the 74th games + finnick saving his stylist from execution by proposing marriage.

— unrequited (anon blurb, implied smut)

— summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!

— oh baby! (smut)

— summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

— capitol girl (req blurb)

— summary: finnick loves his favourite victor.

— love you best part two (req, smut)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t exactly like you around other men without him.

CORIOLANUS SNOW

— trapped

— summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.

— delicate*

— summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

— ravage delicate pt 2

— summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.

— safe and sound ft lucy gray baird

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— worth it

summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.

— runaway

summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.

— our little dove ft lucy gray baird

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— late to the party

— summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, your managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?

— brown jewel (req)

— summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

— temper tantrum (req)

— summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?

— mr president (req)

— summary: mr president seems to be especially enamoured with his favourite maid, you.

— all grown up (smut)

— summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

— charity (req)

— summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.

— love you best (req, smut, read as coryo or finnick)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t like you around other men without him.

PEETA MELLARK

— sweet like sugar (blurb req)

— summary: peeta teaches you how to bake since you’re nowhere near as good as you thought, not that you’d admit it.

—paranoia (dark req)

— summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.

SEJANUS PLINTH

— coming soon!

LUCY GRAY BAIRD

— safe and sound ft coriolanus snow

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— destined

— summary: you and lucy enjoy time together at the lake.

—our little dove ft coriolanus snow

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

KATNISS EVERDEEN

— coming soon!

JOHANNA MASON

— underestimate (blurb req)

— summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.

ANNIE CRESTA

— my people ft finnick odair

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

TRIBUTE!READER

— coming soon!

(in general, no ship just the reader in the arena, with katniss n peeta etc)

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[hanasnx]

bruce trying to explain to dick and jason that the young woman they saw in the manor is his 19 yo situationship !!

PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+

BRUCE WAYNE cuffs his last link, and straightens out the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"I'm not sneaking around." JASON TODD insists, as if it should be obvious and he's disgusted Bruce would imply such a thing. A resentful smile replaces it as he claps a harsh hand on the back of DICK GRAYSON. "Birdie here was just helping me out, he told me you'd be gone by now. Didn't know you kept my copy." He raises the book into view and wiggles it.

"Of course, I would. It has all your annotations." Bruce replies calmly, and Jason's expression drops subtly. Bruce approaches you and adjusts the blanket you held so you'd be more covered up. "Why don't you go freshen up? The car's waiting." Your cheeks heat even more than before, you're sure he can see the color bloom on them and spread to your forehead. He's not the least bit interested in your nightgown that the boys commented on, instead keeping warm and rough hands on your shoulders protectively.

"Hold on a sec', who is this?" Jason has the need to be combative, especially after the flash of vulnerability he displayed. He gestures to you with the book. "Getting younger every year, aren't they, Bruce?" A wolfish grin spreads onto his lips, his canines glinting in the firelight and you frown at his rude implications, talking about you like you're not even there.

"She's my date for tonight." Bruce replies coolly, and you glance between them, puzzled over how he keeps such a level head around someone intent to get under his skin. You were alone five minutes with Jason and he'd managed to annoy you. Bruce somehow senses your unease, and meets your gaze, a soft glow in his eyes.

"Yeah, Bruce, I'm with Jason here. She looks younger than us." Dick has joined in on the conversation that apparently does not include you. "Are you sure that's the kind of statement you wanna make?"

"This conversation is over." A harder tone takes root within Bruce's voice as he commands, and you've had enough.

"Hello? Why are you all talking like I'm not here?" you demand, looking between their expressions of varying shock. "I'm the Ice Princess of Gotham, goddamnit, I won't be ignored!"

A snicker breaks out from Jason, who pats Dick's arm with the back of his hand. "Damn, the kindergartner's got a mouth on her." Dick does not engage in the banter, batting Jason's hand away with a scolding, "Jason."

"I'm tired of this!" you declare, and bunch up the blanket, rolling it up and tearing at it with your claws before throwing it to the ground. "I hope you have fun going to whatever-it-is by your-self, Bruce. I'm going to spend my time with people more civilized." you hiss, proudly sticking your nose in the air as you go to the exit.

"Tell 'em, baby! You go, girl!" Jason jeers after you, "A little more ass next time, that nightgown's too long."

Dick has the urge to shove Jason into the fire, but now that they're adults it's not as feasible as when they grew up around each other. "You're a piece of shit, you know that?" he tells him, but it's more or less tired.

Jason side-eyes him with a shrug. "I knew she couldn't handle it. I'm a tough pill to swallow, and a little princess like that needed some humbling."

"Who says? Jesus, Jason, you think everyone needs to be taken down a peg."

"So, Bruce, what were you celebrating tonight? Her sweet sixteen?" That grin stretches back onto Jason's countenance as he interrogates his former mentor. "Finally sick of pussy your age?"

"She was a distraction." Bruce answers, passing through the two boys. All of the polite inhibition from before is lowered, the playboy veil gone now that you've left the room. All that's left now is Batman, and he opens the window. Dick and Jason's eye follow his back as the cold night air hits them. "Penguin and Batman are at odds, and if Bruce Wayne is the center of controversy, the tabloids don't even notice the dealings of a vigilante." He watches you enter a cab in a huff, your longcoat thrown over your nightgown and heels, and drive off. He turns to Jason, and tips his head toward the open window. "I'm assuming this is how you got in, so out you go."

"This is the fourth story, Bruce."

"So you'll have no trouble."

[kaiser1ns]

𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: you can't play hide-and-seek forever, right? well, that's until someone discovers your secret.

╹contents :: fem!reader, fluff, secret relationship, softie rin, shidou being a menace as usual

╹notes :: i love rin so much<333 hope you enjoy it! sorry for any grammar mistakes.

The aroma of delicious food filled the air as the members of PXG gathered around a large table. Y/N, who had been tirelessly assisting Loki, their mentor, was surprised when the Frenchman insisted on treating her to dinner as a token of appreciation for her hard work. There was a rare moment of peace, and to the surprise of everyone at the table, there was no food fight as they enjoyed their well-deserved meal from the hard training.

Shidou couldn't resist teasing his favorite(and only) female friend. He turned to Y/N with a mischievous shit-eating grin and asked, "Hey Y/N, do you like someone from here?" The question caught her off guard, and she raised an eyebrow before responding, "It's none of your business." she replied, returning her attention to her plate.

But we all know Shidou Ryusei’s nature, you will be teased for the rest of your life, "Oh, come on! There's definitely someone, hmm?" Y/N rolled her eyes, replying with a hint of sarcasm, "The only thing I like is the money I'm getting from Ego, nothing more, nothing less." She finished her last bite of food and added, "Now, if you excuse me, I have more work to do. If anyone needs me, I'll be analyzing Bastard Munchen's players in the monitor room."

With that, the girl excused herself from the table, bid everyone good night, and disappeared into her work. The glow of the large TV screen illuminated her focused expression as she delved into her analysis, ”I swear if I don’t get more money in my paycheck”. Little did she know that, in the moment of her murmuring, someone was approaching her from behind.

She felt a pair of strong hands gently wrap around her waist, and a familiar voice whispered in her ear, "You work too hard, you know that?" Y/N smiled, recognizing the voice instantly. Itoshi Rin, her secret boyfriend, leaned down to kiss her cheek, putting his head in the crock of her neck.

“And you do that too, but at least I’m taking breaks, Mister Striker”.  The dark-haired boy didn’t say anything, his head still resting on his girlfriend's head. It's so nice — the feeling of peace when no one is looking at you, no teasing remarks from Shidou, no homework from Loki, and no high expectations — she's so nice.  

With his body relaxing and all his weight on her body, he can fall asleep right then and now, but he knows he can't do that. "Hey, sleepyhead," she said, nudging his head lightly with her finger, earning a groan from Rin "Go have some rest in your room, Loki said, not to tell anyone, but tomorrow's training will be even harder." Again, no answer. Still in his embrace, she decided to somehow move to the chairs with the 186 cm tall boy wrapped around her like a koala. "You are so cute, but you will break my bones."

What she didn't expect was Rin's sharp turn, as he sat down and y/n settled onto his lap, she couldn't help but feel her heart beating faster at the sudden turn of events. His arms tightened around her, securing her place, and she found herself looking up into his tired but vibrant teal eyes, blush coming up to her cheeks. "What got you so clingy, Rin?” 

“Nothing. I just wanted to be with you…” he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. Y/n's blush deepened, but she smiled back at him, understanding the unspoken words between them. Savoring any moment they can spend together. With a gentle laugh, she teased, "Well, next time you feel like using me as a human pillow, just ask nicely." 

Hearing noise from outside, they looked at each other, fearing that someone would enter the room in need of Y/N’s help. The striker suddenly stood up, releasing her from his embrace. “I should probably get going. Have a good night, Y/N”

With a teasing grin, she replied, "Well, get some rest, Rin. You have to be fresh like a daisy tomorrow." tip-toeing to reward him for today - a little peck on the lips. “Love you.” With one last nod, he left the room with a smile on his face.

As he disappeared into the hallway, Y/N couldn't help but smile. Yes, their relationship is a secret from everyone—a game of hide-and-seek, it’s hard to manage but as long as no-one suspects a thing, everything is okay.

“I KNEW IT!” again a familiar voice called from behind her, and it’s no other than Shidou Ryusei himself. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, turning around to face “the demon” and in a threatening tone said, "If you even dare to tell anybody about this, I will personally make your life a living hell - no more Chainsaw Man manga, no more yukhoe and a restraining order against you for Itoshi Sae.”

If until now Shidou was not afraid of anything, now he is definitely afraid.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[damagdsnow]

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 vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

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

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)

Word count: 11.3k

note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.

At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.

”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.

You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.

“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”

You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?

”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.

“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”

“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.

“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”

At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.

You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.

You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.

You felt kinda intimidated by him.

You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.

He intrigued you.

You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.

Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“

“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.

His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.

Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.

Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.

He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.

“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.

They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.

Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.

“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.

Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.

At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?

Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.

Check, check, check.

You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.

One of these included him.

Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.

The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.

Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.

You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?

No, the kiss.

The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.

Also, you didn’t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.

When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.

"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.

Of course it was not over.

He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.

You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.

Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”

Not as funny as she thought.

Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.

The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.

The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.

You were their only hope but you became the death of them.

Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.

An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.

“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.

”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.

”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.

”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.

You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.

Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?

“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.

You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.

“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.

”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.

You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.

“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”

“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.

She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.

“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented

“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.

You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.

“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”

“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?

“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”

Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”

“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”

You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?

”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.

“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”

”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.

“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.

”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.

”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”

“Well it kinda is–”

”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.

His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.

“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.

“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”

You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?

“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”

“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.

“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”

”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”

”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”

”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.

“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.

“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.

“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.

Did you just sign a pact with the devil?

He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.

“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.

You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.

“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.

“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.

“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.

“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.

”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.

”For the record, they are tasteless.”

He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.

”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”

Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.

Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.

The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.

You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside  but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked. 

“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.

”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.

Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.

”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.

Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that? 

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.

He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.

”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it. 

“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him. 

He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.  

“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn. 

“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.

In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.

��Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.

“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall. 

You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams. 

Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders. 

”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!” 

You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened? 

What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying. 

“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.

You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.

After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”

Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.

It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.

For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.

Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.

He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”

Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?

Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.

His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.

You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile. 

You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.

“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.

You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"

“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”

"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”

You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.

You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.

His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.

”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.

You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.

The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."

You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.

Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.

“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.

“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.

“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”

“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.

”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.

A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”

You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.

“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.

You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”

“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.

”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”

Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”

His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.

“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.

It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.

So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.

Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.

As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him. 

Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.

But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.

“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.

You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.

”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.

Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?

“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”

You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.

”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.

“He did what?”

“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”

Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.

“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.

You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?

“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.

“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.

“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.

“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”

“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.

You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.

“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.

“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.

“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.

“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”

“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”

“As the sun and the moon?”

“Maybe.”

The comparison did fit well.

One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.

Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.

Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.

Is the door locked? Am I safe here?

The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.

Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.

However, that was still his house.

Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.

Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.

You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.

“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”

So cheesy for what?

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.

“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?

You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.

“Oh so you’re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?

“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.

“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.

“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.

You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”

“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.

“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.

He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”

You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.

“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.

“Just for show,” he echoed.

You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.

“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.

“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.

You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.

First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?

That was not what the script said.

You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.

At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.

The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.

“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,” you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.

Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.

The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.

“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.

“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.

“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.

“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.

The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.

“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.

“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.

Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.

He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.

“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.

“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.

Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.

“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”

Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.

“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.

“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.

You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”

“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”

“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.

“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”

The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?

“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”

“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.

“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.

“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.

Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.

“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”

“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.

“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”

“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.

“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.

You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.

“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”

“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.

You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.

“Why? Did it turn you on?”

His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.

“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.

The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.

“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.

He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.

“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.

This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.

“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.

Fuck. That was not your plan.

You can always get back to it.

“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.

I won.

”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.

His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.

You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.

His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.

“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”

That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.

You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.

“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.

“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.

Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”

Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?

Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.

Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.

Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?

“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.

Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.

“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.

It’s just one bite of the apple.

You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.

No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.

“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.

“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.

Oh.

You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.

That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.

“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.

What was he doing?

“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.

Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.

That was his revenge.

You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.

Self sabotaging.

“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.

Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.

Who?

“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.

“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”

Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.

He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.

Fuck him.

You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.

Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.

Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”

You sick bastard.

Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.

He won.

After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.

“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.

“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”

He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.

You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.

You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.

Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.

He is the forbidden fruit.

I am tempted by thee.

A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all

ask me questions here 💌

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[blindbeta]

Hello! I have two questions, so I'll send two asks in case you want to answer them separately. First, a lot of your posts suggest writing multiple blind characters into your story to help avoid tokenism. However, when I try to write multiple blind characters, they always stand out or feel shoehorned in. Do you have any advice for writing multiple blind characters more "casually" so they don't feel as out of place?

Examples of How to Write Multiple Blind Characters Using The Owl House

Hello. Thank you for your questions! I actually started on this months ago and returned to it answering this question here.

I suspect this is what stops many writers, although they aren’t aware of it. This feeling of forcing representation is the result of society’s ableism and it can be difficult to recognize or deal with.

It might help to think about the reverse- isn’t it strange that so many characters in books and shows are abled? Isn’t it strange that so many disabled characters have no community?

When you write multiple blind characters, you are giving your blind character a community.

Another thing that might help is to show different characters having different conditions and different ways of dealing with their blindness. This is a technique I use all the time. You can even list all the blind characters and their characteristics so you can consider them all at once. For fun, we’ll use The Owl House. I feel that using all-ages examples might help writers feel comfortable engaging with the material.

The following will contain discussions of external and internalized ableism. It will also contain heavy spoilers for The Owl House up to the show’s finale.

Here is an example I came up with:

Main character, Luz, has a low vision in both eyes. She uses a cane for nighttime, mostly, but she feels like more of an outcast when she uses it at school, compared to the enthusiasm with which she used it and showed it to her classmates when she was a child. She stopped using a cane before entering high school. She packs it for camp just in case and uses it all the time on The Boiling Isles. There, she feels more comfortable using it every day. She is eventually able to use her cane and other assistive devices, whether magical or non-magical, whenever she needs to. Growing up, she struggled in school due to neurodivergence and not always getting her accommodations or maybe even struggling to ask for accommodations. She is happy to find that Eda and Hexside are able to accommodate her without making her feel othered. Although she has felt rejected in the past, she is able to fully embrace her blindness once more, celebrating a part of her in a way she was able to as a child. Also, she has several copies of The Good Witch Azura books in regular print, large print, and audiobook forms.

Eda, her mentor, had total enucleation in one eye and wears a prosthetic. How did she lose her eye? She doesn’t remember, now stop bugging her. Due to macular degeneration, her vision isn’t so good in the other eye and is decreasing over time. She doesn’t use a cane after struggling against her mother in childhood. She can use her Palisman or King as guides if she needs help. (King appointed himself her unofficial guide demon.) Her visually impaired partner, Raine, has gently and jokingly encouraged her to do what helps, including using assistive devices. After they started dating again, Eda feels comfortable using Raine as a guide, which also gives her an excuse to cozy up to them. Eda eventually comes to terms with her blindness much like her chronic illness. When she and Raine go on walks, she jokingly makes them carry things, stating if they want her to use a guide demon or a cane so bad, they can lend her a hand considering she only has one. She switches between the cane and guide depending on what suits her that day. Raine also supports her in her times of vulnerability. She can also have her phone or use spells to read, but reading is for nerds so she would rather have someone else read to her, such as her sister, Luz, Raine, or King.

Principal Bump is blind with residual vision and uses a guide Paliman to help him navigate and magnify things if he needs it. When he had Eda as a student, he was excited to help a student with similar experiences, but he quickly learned she was a troublemaker.

Willow is totally blind and uses a fluffy guide demon. She also has a cane decorated with flowering vines, which she enjoys using because she can have interesting tactile feedback. She was born blind and doesn’t struggle with her blindness beyond the occasional frustration with ableism or lack of accessibility. Her dads are very supportive and helpful. They sent her to Hexside hoping having a blind principal would assure she would get accommodations. She enjoys using magic with physical and textural elements, which is why she tried the magical school tracks she chose.

Gus is also blind with a bit of remaining vision. He enjoys looking at colors and lights. Gus chose to focus on illusions because they make interesting shapes and colors, providing his brain with a lot of sweet, sweet stimulation. Gus also enjoys that a track that is very visual is something he can excel at. He met Willow when complimenting her on how pretty her plants looked, describing to her what looked like a colorful blossom on a vine. He uses a cane to navigate, finding it more helpful for stairs and general independence even if canes aren’t quite as popular on the Boiling Isles as magically assisted options such as Palismans and guide demons. He also enjoys using something more similar to what humans use, as he is very interested in humans. He feels very comfortable with his blindness, finding a similar outlook in his friend Willow. Together, the two feel more understood. Willow and Gus pass Braille notes to each other in class. Gus prefers to have his spelled books or illusions read to him, though.

Amity deals with internalized ableism stemming from a need to be perfect, as well as many terrible implications from her parents that she doesn’t let on hurt her. She concentrates on not letting her disability stop her, as that’s what a Blight does. She has low vision, similar to Luz, and progressive vision loss. Unlike the other characters, she does not have much positive support. Principal Bump tries to encourage her to use the many aids and accommodations provided by the school, surprised that she knows the Boiling Isles equivalent of Braille, but only because her parents thought it would give their child an edge and because she attended the same early childhood classes as Willow. Amity politely rejects his help and goes on the be the top student just to prove a point to everyone (a.k.a her parents). She grows up being friends with other kids who say ableist things, leading to Amity feeling even more pressured to rely on her remaining vision. Eventually, her relationships with Luz and Willow help her to accept herself. She is able to act more authentically. This includes confronting her former friends, apologizing to the people she bullied, and attempting to use a cane at school. She is surprised to find that nothing really changes and a few people, including her siblings, even comment on her cane use positively. Willow also shows her how to get her phone to read to her, as well as use the spelled books you can buy that read out loud, which helps reduce eye strain. The similarities between her and Luz helps to strengthen their bond, but otherwise their relationship is unchanged from canon. Amity also has another troublesome barrier to asking Luz to Grom, such as how to make the note accessible. She ends up going with large print and high contrast ink. If she can read it, she knows Luz will be able to.

Hunter has an inherited retinal disorder, such as LCA or Stargardt disease. All of his predecessors have had a similar experience and Hunter takes pride in being part of that line. Each Golden Guard has decreased vision compared to the last, it seems. Hunter views his blindness as a part of him. His blindness allows him to adapt in ways others may not have a chance to explore. He becomes aware of advantages he has over the many sighted people he works with. He is known for his talent, adaptability, and resourcefulness. Hunter struggles with photophobia, which his mask helps with. For navigation, he has a cane, as well as his staff, which he prefers to adapt for navigating. It is about chest height and acts similarly to a WeWalk cane. He can use it to teleport and use magic, but it is mostly for identification and navigating if needed. Eventually, he considers switching to a guide demon like Willow’s, which can also offer companionship along with his new Palisman. Hunter can read the Boiling Isles equivalent of Braille, which he uses for labeling, personal note-keeping, and reading when his eyes are tired. He can keep working longer this way, although he does occasionally read or write for fun if he has a spare few minutes. Hunter also makes tactile maps.

There we go. I provided examples of several blind characters in the same place. Many of them know each other and maybe even meet because of their blindness. They all have different types of blindness and different experiences with their blindness, even when compared to characters who are on similar places on the blindness spectrum. I explored how they navigate, how they view their blindness, and ways in which they relate to others. Some struggle with internalized ableism, but not all of them. They have their own arcs related to their blindness, although they have the same arcs and interests as in canon.

Rather than seeing multiple blind characters as an obstacle, view it as an opportunity for characterization. For example, Amity’s experience with ableism is heavily rooted in how she was raised, in how her parents treated her blindness as a defect or something to be ignored. Meanwhile, Luz’s experience with ableism originated in childhood rejection. Compared to them, Willow, Gus, Principle Bump, and Hunter are all thriving. Even Eda is mostly cool with everything, only having a confusing and uncertain relationship with mobility aids. Additionally, Luz is able to let go of and unlearn her internalized ableism as soon as she finds people who accept her. Amity, in comparison, takes much longer to accept herself.

I know that some writers who aren’t blind may feel unequipped to write internalized ableism. It isn’t necessary, but instead something I thought fit Amity’s original character arc. Internalized ableism can be a lot more subtle than this or not feature in your story at all. Luz and Eda might struggle with this as well, but to a lesser degree. It would also be similar to their arcs in canon.

Here are additional character breakdowns because I thought they were fun:

Who uses Braille?

Willow, Hunter, and to some extent, Gus

Braille literacy is declining, so not everyone knows it in this A.U, which is similar to real life. However, I prefer to have at least some of my characters use Braille to push back against that.

Who uses audio to read, primarily or some of the time?

Gus, Amity, Luz, Eda

Who uses regular or large print?

Luz, Amity, Principal Bump

Who uses magnification?

Principal Bump and probably Luz in childhood

Who uses a cane?

Luz, Amity, Hunter, Willow, Eda

However, Luz, Amity, and Eda all struggled to get there to some degree. In real life, few blind people actually use canes despite possibly benefiting from them.

Who uses an animal guide?

Eda, Willow, and, later, Hunter

On the Boiling Isles, creatures participate in training schools and are matched with potential handlers. They are mostly given to adults, although some schools allow kids to apply, such as those in their upper teens. I have a post on guide animals here.

Who has some residual vision?

Luz, Eda, Bump, Gus, Amity, Hunter

Who is totally blind?

Willow

In real life, 85 to 90% of people who are blind have some residual vision, depending on what source you draw from. Most of the cast can still see something, even if only colors, light, and shadow.

I hope this helps. This is my first time sharing something like this. Readers, feel free to use this however you like, for stories or fan art.

-BlindBeta

[sepublic]

The Owl House Ending Anniversary Livestream

            These are the notes I’ve taken from The Owl House anniversary stream, just the stuff related to the show (though there was a hilarious anecdote from Sarah about having a theater light shine on her bald spot while attending an acting school);

For the finale, the VAs (and Dana and Eden) got to record voice work together for the first time since the covid lockdown. Sarah scream-cried and sobbed right after finishing the final lines for Luz. The recording occurred a few months before the finale aired.

            Zeno revealed that anime dub voice directors usually want a different direction for voice acting than with western animation, but when Zeno did a take for Hunter that he thought might’ve sounded too anime, everyone else was in full approval. From there, Zeno approached Hunter as the “anime emo boy” or “Sasuke” of the show, going for an “eastern anime edgy feel.” Sarah thought this fit given how much Hunter is trying; Zeno feels Hunter wears his emotions on his sleeves no matter how cool he tries to be.

Hunter would 100% be an anime fan and be obsessed with anime conventions in the human realm. Eden mentioned that Dana took a lot of anime inspiration when doing segments such as fight scenes or character power-ups, with Luz’s Titan form being based on Pokemon evolution.

            When voicing Lilith, Cissy would pull from her memories of her aunt Kim in translating the “fun, goofy” energy, and she normally does this for other fun aunt/maternal roles. Elizabeth Grullon brought in parts of her culture and ancestry when doing Camila, as per the advice of her late mentor Ken Washington.

            If the VAs could hang out with their characters for one day: Eden would take Boscha to therapy, and all of the VAs agreed, with Zeno ready to pay for Hunter’s (“The credit card will NOT decline”). Cissy would have a ride on Mike Socks. Elizabeth would visit the Demon Realm with Camila, get some drinks in her, make some arroz con pollo and tostones, put on some salsa music, and just vibe out. Sarah would also visit the Demon Realm with Luz, and wherever Luz likes to hang out; Maybe a beach day.

            Cissy thinks Lilith would go full-nerd when visiting the human realm, having a notebook and pen and going mad as she’s scribbling everything down. She’d stop people on the street to ask if they’ve had apple blood, and be an absolute menace, people would be freaking out.

            Pulling from themselves, Avi thinks Raine would meet things with a little bit of caution, having lots of disinfectant wipes, and eventually get comfortable, freely exploring without inhibition.

            Eden imagines Boscha would thrive in the human world, since there’s so many gullible people she could trick into being her followers. She’d either use the third eye for attention, or grow bangs/wear a beanie to hide it. Cissy joked that Boscha would run for president and win in a landslide, which is a bad idea because she’d have too much power at her fingertips.

            When it comes to Camila exploring the demon realm once everything’s cooled down, Elizabeth thinks she’d be a bit skeptical, but eventually relax, have some apple blood, kick back and make some friends… And then be ready to go back. Not an overnight stay, just a brief visit.

            Cissy was proudest of her performance as Lilith was “Why were you so easy to curse?!” in Agony of a Witch. For Zeno it was Thanks to Them, he felt it was a closed circle for Hunter; He enjoyed balancing various Hunter elements like the Golden Guard role, and the catharsis with Luz right afterwards. He’s glad it was vulnerable and open, wanting his performance to be honest and realistic. For Elizabeth it was Camila reacting to various Demon Realm segments such as Belos, or preparing to fight Kikimora.

Eden liked Boscha’s arc in For the Future, how it came full-circle when she helped the resistance because she didn’t mean real harm and just wanted things to go back to normal. For Sarah it was the ending of Yesterday’s Lie where Luz promises to stay in the human realm, she found it heartbreaking how it was Luz’s two worlds colliding; Sarah couldn’t wait to see the episode in its entirety. Raine was Avi’s first voice-acting role for animation, and they summoned the ‘guttural response’ to free themselves when doing the possession scene with Belos in the finale.

Luz’s favorite human realm drink is coffee or matcha due to her ADHD, the caffeine can help her focus, “turn Demon Realm,” but is also helpful for a nap. Sarah often brings large drinks into the studio, and described her performance as Luz as a cold brew, plus a giant gallon of water, plus some tea with honey after she’s done screaming.

            Hunter would like Red Bulls and go crazy with the energy. He’d apply Demon Realm mentality by believing Red Bull’s “gives you wings” advertisements, and write a letter to management demanding a refund when this doesn’t literally happen.

            Camila would love café bustelo, it’s a big Latina drink and was introduced to Elizabeth by her mom. The 4pm kind brings you to life and it’s the time for tias to gossip.

            Boscha is either a giant slurpee girl, or popping boba, because her third eye gives Boscha an inclination towards eye aesthetics. Plus Boscha could spit boba at people through her straw, which led to Sarah joking about Luz and Hunter walking in bespeckled with boba (“No Hunter, they do not give you wings”).

            Lilith would like pina colada, she’d think it’s the cool thing that everyone drinks, what with there being a whole song about it. Then she’d drink it and go on a tangent about how her mom never loved her, and Luz would ask her in concern how many she’s had. Lilith would collect several of the parachutes in her hair.

            Raine has a sensitive stomach, so they’re into kombucha and brew their own.

            (Fun fact; The group realized the eclipse was happening during the livestream and had a discussion over how to protect your eyes when watching it!)

            Rebecca Rose herself sent a question, asking what they think a palisman would taste like. They joked that Matthew Rhys was NOT here, and Dana apparently headcanons that palismen essence tastes like gushers. Zeno and Sarah joked that Belos has a sweet tooth and he’s obsessed because he left the human realm before they invented gushers. It never even occurred to Eden that palisman essence would have a flavor, it’d just be an energy boost, like pipe tobacco (and Sarah added this was appropriate because palismen are made of wood). Yesterday was Rebecca’s birthday and the VAs wished her a happy one.

            Zeno’s favorite quality about Hunter is his loyalty and dedication; When he sets his sights on something, he’s pretty relentless. He has a really deep well of complexity in him, half is angst but the other half is real heart.

            Elizabeth loves how Camila loves her kid so much that she’s willing to step past herself and her own limitations, her own fears and comfort zone, to connect with and support Luz. Sarah noted it’s like Camila is learning to be a kid again with her arc.

            Boscha doesn’t have a ton of great character traits, but she’s a strong athlete, doesn’t give up, and is powerful; Eden admires that about her, she’s badass. Everything else about her though…

            Sarah likes how Luz doesn’t have an ego; Yes she’s unapologetically herself and doesn’t know any other way, but when she messes up, she has no problem taking the blame and apologizing. She’ll own up to things and fix them. Though it was misguided, Luz was even willing to let go of everything she loved to make up for letting down the Demon Realm and protect everyone. It’s not easy to put aside your own wants and needs sometimes and apologize, accepting that you’re wrong.

            Lilith had a lot of faults, but her willingness to admit her own wrongdoing and go into the depths of her soul to figure out how to be better; Such as being a better auntie/sister, forgiving her parents, etc. She had a lot of growing up to do, and Cissy felt Dana gave Lilith such a beautiful way to go about that.

            Avi was glad to see Raine have stage fright and awkwardness/shyness in public and with social settings, but they can transform by stepping into this fierce protector/hero role, and find that confidence. It’s a multi-faceted character, a full human experience, and felt genuine to Avi.

            When asked if Boscha ever said sorry to Willow and Luz, Eden joked that love means never having to say sorry; Boscha probably skipped over that. Assumed she already said it at some point, the others just have bad memory. I’m sure they know, I helped them. I didn’t kill them and they’re still alive, so clearly…!

            The hardest episode to record was Thanks to Them for Zeno, the VAs had to take a break. It was already cathartic and then Hunter didn’t even get a break afterwards, plus Zeno had the knowledge of the show ending. For Elizabeth it was the finale due to the sadness of the show being over, but otherwise there was nothing hard for her because the experience was a dream come true; She was in pure joy when in the booth. Even when Camila was crying or saying goodbye, it was still fun for Elizabeth. But when she herself is saying goodbye, that’s when it’s hard for her.

            Eden also agreed on the finale due to how long it was (and she accounted for her role as voice director as well), mentioning how the episode was the culmination of so much, there was a lot of ground to cover, etc. It was so emotional how everyone brought so much, saying goodbye together as a cast. Not to mention the catharsis/closure of stamping Belos to death together.

            Sarah concurred, it was meta saying goodbye to the show and each other. But she also found Reaching Out hard, due to Luz’s complex emotions, her coming in and out a lot. She’s dealing with a great loss, and Sarah wanted to honor that grief, but also had Luz masking it, popping up, acting out, and needed to choose how/when to let that emotion come out. The grief wasn’t super-fresh, it comes in waves, and it was in that state where some are in shock or others cry; You never know when it’ll strike, when it’ll put you on edge. So Reaching Out was hard to map out for Sarah, especially with Luz just popping up to do one weird thing and then going away. It was a lot of fun, and workwise it was a lot of pressure to get it right.

            Cissy also had the finale, with the switch from Lilith making amends to being terrible again in the dream sequence being jarring. There was also Agony of a Witch, as the landing needed to be stuck to make the episode work; But Eden and Dana were there for the recording session to help.

            Avi had Follies at the Coven Day Parade, when Eda and Raine had their duel. Avi really had to tap into being angry and mad at someone they care so much about.

            If Elizabeth could give advice to any character, it’s for Boscha to go to therapy. Sarah tells Lilith to stand still and feel her feelings, you poor beautiful witch. Avi tells everyone to not be so hard on yourself. Cissy, to all (especially teenagers): It gets better, you think you know everything and you think you have the weight of your world on your hands (and tbf that was the case), but it gets better. Eden would tell Hunter to take a day off, take a nap. Zeno would tell everyone to do the same, it’s okay to let go. Eden would also advise Eda to lay off the law-breaking, Sarah said not to start her day with apple blood (save it for happy hour).

            Sarah’s favorite Hooty moment was the tea party, and how he would be haunted by his actions forever in Adventures in the Elements. Cissy loved Hooty and Lilith’s friendship, “No witch is an island!” Eden loves the first appearance of Port-a-Hooty, it had her in stitches the first time she saw it; There was sheer terror knowing he could travel. Sarah loved Hooty’s off-screen attack by Amity. For Zeno, it was two guards struggling to describe Hooty. Elizabeth concurred with everyone, and Avi liked it when Hooty just ate things and sometimes ruined a situation because of it. Cissy brought up Hooty’s skeleton bathing.

[swordoffrivolousthings]

Thoughts about Heroes of Olympus and how it could have been better.

Sometimes I think about what would have made HOO a better series. And I'm not talking about the obvious 'too much focus on romantic relationships' and the lack of usage of certain characters or the dumb ending.

I mean the little things that would change so much (mainly character dynamics but also worldbuilding i.e. Camp Jupiter and Gaia's reasoning)

Some of the points are inspired by @crisisreading and their posts. They are the first I saw raise some of my own points so! part 2

Make the ages vary more in the main cast, trust me

Let Percy, Annabeth and Grover get older by 4-5 years. Let them become adults and find themselves outside the godly war. Let them even finish college, I wouldn't get mad. Let them do anything beside being teenagers.

I promise this would make the dynamics more interesting. Percy and Annabeth will be more mentor figures, than fellow comrades. This would create some distance between some of the them, but ultimately create something fun. Piper would come to see some aspiring female figure in Annabeth (I think this would ether be positive or negative, depending how Annabeth changed as a character over the years, but I tend towards negative). Leo would potentially have someone older to exchange ideas with. Jason would possibly feel intimidated by Percy's vastly superior age, prowess and experience, instead of being able to clash heads with him.

Hazel would have not one, but two that people that would play parent to the others' reckless behavior. (go snort your harmful stereotypes up your ass, Riordan.) Frank, when telling Percy and Hazel about his stick, would possibly find in Percy a kind hand (not that he wasn't kind already, let me explain) and Percy would probably share with him this feeling of vulnerability - not dump it on Frank - about having your life tied to a specific thing. I mean his Achilles heel, with which he would have lived for far longer.

And a whole lot more.

2. Add Grover into the series as a perspective character

You have a new trio dynamic introduced in the first book of the series. Let the original trio interact as main characters and let us see how their relationship has changed.

Grover's opinion on the conflict between the gods and Gaia would be important. He is the Lord of the Wild, and Gaia is the literal personification of the Earth. Let us see his struggle between the loyalty he has to the gods and his friends and his powerful feelings towards protecting nature.

Also, he would act as a protector for the demigods. Because while I enjoy Hedge, he is not enough to keep them safe.

3. Throw the bullshit about Gaia getting revenge for Kronos' defeat out of the way

Gaia, as mentioned before, if the personification of the Earth. One of the first gods to emerge from Chaos.

Gaia can, of course, keep her resentment for the gods defeating the son that freed her from her pain (caused by Ouranos initially). But she is a mother goddess. She should want obliterate humanity because humans are slowly killing her. Painfully. She wants to survive and the only way she sees how if by killing all the humans. She wants to save her children, aka animals, insects, nature, and the only way she sees is bloodshed. Gods are not rational in their anger, no one is. So let her be angry and vengeful and out for human blood.

DO NOT MAKE HER A FUCKING VILLAIN, MAN! Make her an antagonist, but someone's whose ideals are worth taking in and adapting. Kinda like Luke about the demigod and minor god recognition. Where have the themes of the original series gone? Remember, an important theme in BOTL was protecting the environment. It was one of the most important moments when Pan faded. Do not let that go to fucking waste. Especially not now, in the world we live in.

4. Show the effects the war had on Camp Half-Blood. Hint it at Camp Jupiter, when Percy does not have the memories to corelate it with

We've had years since the end of the Second Titan War. How did the gods change the course of events ? (the victors write the histories) How much of Luke's reasoning for starting the war was erased. (hint, all of it.) Show us how much the perspectives were shifted and how much the people that fought in it were made into martyrs and villain, basically becoming caricatures.

Let us feel how much this hurts Percy, Grover and Annabeth. How it had impacted and impacts their trauma, grief and utter horror. The younger, newer campers see them as wonderful, all-just and loyal heroes of the gods. The way they hate it.

Good moment to implement the new cabins for the gods and let the new ones forget that it wasn't always this way. Let Percy's demand to the gods be forgotten, shoved under the rug. The tragedy unfolds, use it.

Since in Camp Jupiter none of the main characters have fought, let us see the subtility. Let the older legionnaires be ragged, scarred. Older and weary, with eyes glassy and suspicious. Have younger recruits have this heavy air around them. They know what happened, what killed most of the older people in the legion.

Have Jason, Hazel and Frank see these things in Annabeth, Grover and Percy too. They realise that oh. oh. these three have fought in the war, of course they would. Show them gain respect for the trio. The same kind of respect they have for the veterans back home.

5. Cut one of the Seven from the prophecy.

I know this seems radical, but it is a symbolism thing, which I think would be more interesting in a world based on Greek mythology.

It is established in PJO that three (3) is an important number: 3 Olympian sisters (Hera, Demeter, Hestia), 3 Olympian brothers (Hades, Poseidon, Zeus), 3 Fates, 3 quest members, 3 Furies, 3 godly realms (the Underworld, Olympus + the sky, the seas). Use this.

Give us six (6) prophesized heroes. It is, after all, the second most used number in the series and a multiple of 3.

I suggest Annabeth. Why? because she has her quest from Athena. Let that be her top priority, while hanging out on the Argo II to get to Rome. Let her bond with the younger demigods and have her possible death be always on her mind. Bring her hubris into play and she would think herself the chosen one, the one demigod child of Athena to survive. This would make her falling into Tartarus with Percy not letting her go more taxing on her psyche.

Show us how she hates herself because she took one of the principal quest members to certain death. She feels like she'd jeopardized the whole saving the world thing.

Cut the Seven to Six and let Annabeth die in Tartarus. Show us why a single-man quest is a death sentence. Why three (3) is such a valuable number.

6. CONSEQUENCES!!!

Jumping straight off the last point.

Change why Annabeth would end up in Tartarus. Make her ignore the string around her ankle because she thing that nothing bad can happen to her now. After all, Arachne is gone, right.

Let this be her undoing. I do not care how she dies, but make her choices, her hubris, be her undoing. Do not let her death up to a chance, a mistake or miscalculation. Show how toxic Tartarus is, because we do not see it enough, but make it Annabeth's idea, the plan by which she dies.

Do not make it Percy's fault. Let him try to do everything to keep her alive, but still failing. Attack his sense of loyalty, his self-esteem. Show how the experiences and her death affect him.

Bring the trauma from the last war back in those chapters, in a place where demigods leave something behind.

To less drastic things - let the others get hurt. Permanently. Show how this life affects and damages people physically, too.

Have one lose an eye, another get horrific scars. Lose a limb, a part of themselves. Do not make it seem like any other could have gotten the same wound.

Tailor them to their character, their pride and their skill. Hit them where it hurts most and let us see how it changes them.

Also, about Leo. Kill him too. The fact that he ended up alive is a deux ex machina. He should have suffered the consequences.

Also also, bring back the fatal flaws. They are missing from the series. Play with them, show why they are important parts of their characters. Bring back ancient Greek fatal flaws, and new ones that make sense in a modern world.

Hurt them because what hurts them is part of who they are. Show us why the Greeks invented tragedy.

7. Age up the target age. Go more young/new adult

I understand that PJO was made for middle schoolers. But the target audience had grown up alongside the characters, and as such they have matured.

This is why I said to age Percy, Grover and Annabeth up further. Leave some distance for the old and new readers to get up and personal with the new main characters. Have them find common ground with the new demigods but have their anchor in the old ones.

Make the readers work to understand and refamiliarize themselves wit the older demigods. Because they've changed.

Targeting a more mature audience allows exploring n. 6. The realistic consequences of living with the fear that something will come and eat you. How just a little mishap could change you for life. (or what has been left of it)

Please do not go grim dark. Show that despite this all, their purpose has not stopped existing. A life exists outside of your appearance or disability still exist, and while it would be hard, do not lose hope.

8. Hope, or lack of its importance in the Heroes of Olympus series

Alongside other callbacks and reinforcements of PJO's lore, where is Elpis (hope)? Why doesn't she appear as a larger theme in the books? I don't know.

Elpis is still in the jar, having been used as a threat of defeat. But now Kronos is gone. Have Gaia use it as s symbol for her own cause.

Make hope Gaia's argument. The most important part of why her cause stands. Gaia is waking now because there is no hope for the betterment of the planet while in human - and therefore godly - grasp. She wants to save the planet, but they, the destroyers, are opposing her.

Hope is what she wants to bring back. The hope that death will not be the end of life, but further evolvement and betterment of all species.

This argument is what the counterargument should unravel. All species? Why are humans considered irredeemable, unworthy of becoming something greater?

Why can't they not coexist and why can't humans learn how to care about the world surrounding them.

Make hope for humanity and for the environment not a question of if they are capable to coexist, but how we can manage that. Humanity and nature are not mutually exclusive, but two halves of the same whole that need each other to sustain their longevity. Yes, nature can exist without humans, but humans can't.

This does not mean that the best way forward is to kill all humans.

There is no need for hope in HOO because there are no greater questions being asked about topics that require hope, because otherwise we would descend into nihilism and fatalism.

9. Give the gods reason to act the way they act, or a look at a greater narrative problem in the series

I may be generalizing, but the gods act erratically and make choices convenient for the plot, as it is, to happen.

Hera: how, specifically, does she know that Gaia is rising and what her plans are. Why is she against Gaia, when the older goddess has a track record of helping the Olympians on different occasions in the myths. Why does she decide to act when she does, how she knows that the king of the giants (whatever his name may be) is coming after her right then.

We don't know.

Athena: we understand why she wants the Athena Parthenos back. Why not force the Romans to give it back. After all, she is a goddess, even if the Romans don't respect her as the Greeks did, she has power and sway over them. Why send her children, a supposedly important part of what brings her glory, to a near-certain death. Is it misguided vengeance, an obsession to get the statue back at all cost, or simple cruelty. These reasons could apply very well to sending the Romans, yet she doesn't.

Zeus: why lock down Olympus? Paranoia, which fair, but you are a King, why wouldn't you look after your subjects? (bc Riordan chose to ignore part of his characterization in the myths and part of his godly domain) (I know kings aren't perfect, but after the last war, one would think he would do everything in his power to stop another one before it begins) Why not seek justice for Octavian's lies, that affect their ability to win the war, and kill/imprison him? Justice is part of his domain, as Zeus Nomius.

I know that we wouldn't necessarily need these answers, but without some of them, some choices left hanging seem to be there only to add to the drama and danger of it all.

All in all, I have many problems with the 'Heroes of Olympus' series. Some of them are nitpicks and personal preference as a high fantasy reader in my free time. Some of them would really add to the story and continue the themes of PJO.

Please ask me if something wasn't clear to you. I'll happily explain further.

If you find something you don't agree with, let's discuss. I'm open to changing my opinions.

[creepy-friday]

Just came across your blog and I ended up binge-reading everything! I'm in love with the way you write the characters, specially the Proxies. And the female Proxy is definetly my favourite👌.

How it would be if, instead of being Slender's trusted minion and already a experienced Proxy, she was a newbie and fresh meat? Kinda like Cody, younger and dragged there with little to no choice because the Operator saw potential in them. Would the dynamics change, since she doesn't have a high rank to rely on?

Maybe Brian is appointed as her mentor and he gets advantage of her inexperience by corrupting her?

I'M VERY GLAD YOU ENJOY MY BLOG💖

Creepypasta Proxies x Newbie!Female Proxy

The overbearing silence after the buzzing static faded away was bringing in a new damned life.It's been a month since you were bought here,locked in your room until The Operator decided it was enough for you to settle in

It was time for you to meet again with the masked men that dragged you here-the same killers that were supposed to be your team, "allies" even

Every resident was looking down on you,even EJ that pitied you and looked at you with mercy behind his blue mask.The first time you had to pay a visit to his clinic he even asked if you are scared because deep down,his instinct made him to enjoy it

The harassing is real,but this time it's more dangerous.Remember,you're a helpless outsider in a place full of rapists,killers and awful fantasies.Walking down dark hallways is always in a hurry,same as eating and showering.

Since Brian was assigned to your ass,you're almost totally saved and worry free next to him,but he's also a piece of shit

He sees your potential,after all, if The Operator views you as valuable-then you're most certainly priceless.

He's a gentle guy,takes his sweet sweet time to teach you everything you need to know.

Sure,he respects you,but during training sessions he will do everything in his power to get you under him,sort of helpless.

"See,it's not that hard" he breathed out as he guided your hands on the right places "if you ever happen to find yourself in this position you know what to do now,right?" he smiled in a gentle manner,slowly standing up from above you,taking you by your hand with him."Do you want to reverse the roles?"

He will defend your name even if you are in the wrong during proxy meetings.He will keep on bringing up how fucked up all of them felt when they arrived there,and this point always works.(more or less for Masky)He knows how to pull the strings when he wants to

You already know the drill,Masky is a menace to work with,especially with newbies.Don't get me wrong,he doesn't expect you to be fully prepared to know shit,he enjoys having you dumb,but he will always make you feel like shit,he will try his best to bring a pained expression to your face because it makes him feel better and he's bored of Toby

Definitely uses you as a vent chat,no restrictions for him,from inventing some fucked up story to telling you about his miserable life from before the mansion and during the present since he doesn't expect you to stay

The only time he stops is when his friend gives him the sign.It's crazy,but he respects Brian more than he cares about breaking some of your lovely bones

Toby was more than glad to know another woman "joined in",especially since you're new and vulnerable,he now has the chance to look out for someone and to be needed

Altough Toby was the most unusual individual,Cody was the one to give you the creeps most of the times.And he does it on purpose

Since he's no longer the fresh meat everyone looks down to,he feels superior that now he has you around

He wouldn't bully you or make you feel bad on purpose, but he will definitely baby you around A LOT

Kate is complicated.She doesn't talk,she doesn't look at you,she doesn't make any effort to teach nor to train you.She looks down on you,and the only time she will open her mouth is to either tell you to stop what you're doing or to answer any of your questions with a phrase so vague it will make you have even more questions

Time is precious,so don't waste it.Every hour can be spent becoming stronger,but also every hour goes by terribly slow when around every fucking corner someone is gawking their eyes at you

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you make hc for the judgment day being super protective over the reader, like she is the baby of the group being younger and everyone is super protective of her

the judgment day x reader (platonic)

the baby of the group

the judgment day knew how to scare people around them but when you joined the group, they all felt a sense of urgency in order to protect you and make you feel safe. as you joined the group you were only nineteen, the youngest of them all and they all wanted to show people around that no one had to mess with you, otherwise they would make people’s lives a living nightmare.

rhea ripley

rhea saw you as a little sister, as you reminded her of her younger sister due to your young age. she loved your bubbly personality, it brought a new vibe to the group that she was loving. she acted more like a big sister kind of protector, always checking on you if you were going out at night, offering to pick you up in case you decided to drink and you couldn’t drive, making sure the clubs or bar you went to were safe and not full of drunk people and always telling you to call her if you found yourself in trouble. she promised herself that she was always going to keep you safe and she wasn’t going to break that promise anytime soon.

finn balor

finn adored you. he adored you from the second you stepped into the judgment day. he was like a mentor to you, always helping you train and teaching you new moves and tricks. he loved spending time with you, due to the huge age difference between the two of you, he loved how you taught him how to use new apps, how you showed him everything that kids your age liked nowadays, new slangs and way of speaking and everytime he tried to speak like you did, he sounded like the cool dad who tried to make a good impression on his daughter’s friends. he saw you like a daughter in some way. he felt the urge to protect you from the world outside sometimes, because to him, you were only a teenage girl who was still learning about the world and he knew how sometimes the world could be cruel with people and he didn’t want you to face the reality, not yet at least. he was a shoulder you could cry on if you needed, he would listen without judging you and that’s why you loved him so much, he showed you a vulnerable side that he wouldn’t show to the other members of the group and you were so grateful you had found someone like finn.

damian priest

damian was your guardian angel. he was the one to make you laugh and smile in case you were sad. he was the one to take you shopping if your friends were busy. he was the one who would stay up all night with you just gossiping about other wrestlers but he also was the one who would kick boys asses in case they would make you cry. he was like rhea, always checking on you if you wanted to stay out late but he had like a sixth sense sometimes and he couldn’t help to “spy” on you. he trusted you, he didn’t trust the boys around you. you caught him in the same bar as you a few times but instead of being mad, you were thankful that someone cared so much about you that would even start spying you. a few guys tried to hit you up and when you politely declined them, they wouldn’t back away and so damian had to intervene. he made sure that those boys would never hit on you ever again. sometimes he even helped you through your hungover, he would let you stay at his place because he didn’t want you to stay alone in case you felt sick. he always made sure you were safe and comfortable and you always reminded him how thankful you were to have him in your life.

dominik mysterio

dom was like the “best friend protective mode” guy. you were at the same age of his sister so he knew how to deal with you. you two went along immediately. you two had a lot in commons and it made it easier to connect with each other. he was funny and he always made you laugh but at the same time he was a great friend, always being there for you if you needed him and you were the first person he told that he was going to propose to his girlfriend. you were there for him the same way he was there for you, always having each other’s back.

[menaceoffandoms]

LMK analysis rant: Mei

I said I was gonna do this and I'm keeping to my word! The only thing that may stop me is my procrastinating... and the fic I'm slowly writing but uhhhhh-

ANYWAY- We're here to talk about Mei, our favourite white horse dragon pepper girl!

Mei stands out as the most different from her inspiration, something the writers perfectly portray in the yellow-robed demon episode of s4, which is likely to do with how little they had to go off of. Despite being one of the pilgrims in jttw, Ao Lie dose very little in the novel. His most notable chapters being when he's introduced and when the group faces the yellow-robed demon, which is why we met him in that memory in the scroll. Combined with my belief that Mei isn't a reincarnation of Ao Lie -- just his descendent -- means that Mei is one of the most unique characters in the entire show.

There's just less source material for her to draw from, it let's the writers have more fun and do more things. It's not that they don't make the others characters unique -- they like to play very fast and loose with things over all -- but Mei feel like her own complete and original character. She's inspired by Ao Lie in the same way Mk is inspired by Monkie King basically and she all the better for it.

Being the female lead (isn't it interesting how most of the female characters in this show are villans?), Mei is a refreshingly strong, confident girl who begins the show as the most powerful cast member. Being a descendent of the great dragon gives her amazing powers that no other cast members have, a birth right that leads to her being the most protective of her friends and the first to help out in any fight.

What she has in power, however, she lacks in experience. Mei has no mentor -- other than her parents, but I believe its safe to assume they weren't very focused on teaching her combat -- which leads her to trust her gut more, rush into things and learn through observation, like when she mimics what her great x1000 uncle did in s3.

Overall Mei is an excitable, energetic and loving person with a "You only live once" kinda attitude, for lack of a better explanation. Even still, she has her own insecurities and flaws which make her all the more interesting. Due to the shows run time, Mei and many of the other main characters don't really get explored as much as Mk, however what we do see of these struggles and fears is incredibly interesting even on a surface level.

Her tendency to rush head first into danger without first examining the situation or creating a plan, truthfully, tends to work out for her, but it can't always. It's something shown perfectly in s4, when Mei is the only member of the group to not get a star from Master Subohdi, however what a lot of people seem to miss is how Mei actually did earn that star eventually.

When they leave the temple and head to the celestial realm to try and stop Azure, Mei leads them there with no plan at all. As such, they fail and need to be saved by Mk. Faced with proof of Subohdi's criticism, Mei makes the more important amendment to Mk's plan in the s4 special. I don't think we've even seen Mei make a serious plan until this point, which feeds back in to another one of her flaws: being unable to take things seriously.

This isn't something I see said about Mei often, but when watching her character I think it's externally obvious. Don't get me wrong, Mei can be serious, but usually only in moments of vulnerability or high stress. For example: when talking with her pearents, after she gained the Samahdi fire and whilst imprisoned by the Yellow-robed demon.

I think this flaw is Mei's own version of Mk playing dumb. They both behave this way to lessen the emotional impact of serious things, to protect themselves and help those around them deal with trauma or difficult topics. Mei and Mk really are two sides of the same coin and I'd love for them to do more with that in the show.

Going back to Mei's parents, one of her biggest struggles is reconciling who she is with who she's meant to be. She is a noble dragon, a descendent of the great dragon of the West Sea and practically the successor to Ao Lie. It's a lot to live up to and -- evident in episode 3 of season 1; Welcome home -- she doesn't believe she dose.

Mei is confident in her abilities, she's sure of her strength and quick to help those around her, but in the face of her legacy she stands uncertain. It's another thing her and Mk have in common, though in vastly different flavours, and it's interesting how this legacy colours Mei as a character.

She wields the dragon blade, proving herself as a worthy part of her family and gaining the approval of her parents, however the stark difference between her and the rest of her clan is more blatant than ever. We see this perfectly in season 3 when they visit the great Dragon of the East Sea, Mei being put into fancy clothes she instantly ruins in order to have a place to hold her sword. She fights against her uncle, fights against her family, because she knows they'll never understand her. But even still, she knows she's still one of them and she's so proud to be.

Becoming the vessel of the Samahdi fire is only more proof of Mei's legacy and connection to her family. It gives her a moment of pure vulnerability where she vents her frustrations and fears before rushing away, wanting nothing more than to protect the people she cares about.

When Red Son finds her she's still serious, but even with just a basic understanding of the fire within her Mei falls back to her normal nature; a silly excitable girl not taking things seriously. We see this after Red Son attacks her with the spears and when she's eating later on, but even if her attitude doesn't show it, she's still listening and taking the training seriously. She just needs to be silly so she won't freak out again.

Since we're on the topic of the Samahdi fire, I think most people can agree that the way it was handled post s3 was very poor. With only one mention of it in s4, by Master Subohdi no less, I assumed that the fire had been resealed, this time correctly. Something that dangerous should be locked up, even if a capable wielder is around. It would also prevent power creep and stop the show from having another Wukong predicament, by which I mean a character so powerful they need to find a way to prevent them from trivialising whatever threat they have to face in the plot. Wukong will get his own post soon don't you worry...

Instead, we learn in s5 that Mei still has the fire, she just kinda forgot? She learned to fully master it when breaking out of LBDs mech, so since the fire was no longer a raging uncontrollable inferno she just didn't realise it was still there... for an entire season. Yeah it feels lazy and honestly is probably the worse written choice the show has even made. Even still, it dose lead to a very interesting and in character moment for Mei.

When attempting to seal the willow wisp with Red Son, Mei loses her confidence, believing that she lost the Samahdi fire and thinking she's lacking. Mk getting Monkie Kings powers was one thing, but the rest of her friends now having cool weapons and magic? If their all so strong and only getting stronger, then what's the point in Mei? She was the strongest but now she might be the weakest, and that terrifies her cause if she's weak she can't protect people. How can she act when she's powerless to do so?

This dilemma is quickly resolved by Red Son telling her she's had the fire the whole time, amending it's use to Mei's lightning motif she's had since s1 -- I know fire benders in ATLA use lighting but come on -- and basically saying she's been using the fire the whole time. It takes away from Mei's whole struggle to be honest, but I do think there's potential for her to relearn this now tamed Samahdi fire so she can better use it. Just depends if the show wants to do that...

Moving on from my thinly veiled complaints about season 5 (I like it I swear but it is the weakest seasons to me so far), let's talk about Mei's role in the group a bit. Aside from being the token girl, she's also Mk's best friend and the only other character his age and acts around the same age as the shows target audience. Mk's the main character and leader, Tang is the lazy historian smart guy, Sandy the loveable giant, Pigsy the cynical brute and Mei's youthful and silly power house.

I would love to go into some narrative tropes, specifically the 5 man band since jttw is one of the primary bases of the trope, but I've realised I have far too many thoughts about that to fit here. This is the 21sh paragraph and I'm sure at least some of this is a mess, but I hope I'm getting my point across! Overall, Mei is an extremely compelling character how often gets side-lined due to run time and other stuff, but is honestly one of my favourite characters in the show.

[1bibypersecond]

Finishing this study and reading through some forums, I did a little analysis of Viktor.

I believe that not many people understand that he is a VERY empathetic person. It is not wrong to perceive him as a scientist focused on saving his life through technology, which eventually becomes an obsession for him as a way to evolve (LoL lore). And yes, for the most part, we see his curiosity about the power of Arcane as a means to save himself, but he's a character that goes far beyond that based on the context we're given.

First, I believe that the reason he left Zaun wasn’t to improve his own life, as he knew he was already on death's door, but to improve the lives of those who continued to live in the same vulnerable conditions he did as a child. When Mel asks Jayce about Viktor’s illness, he says that he was affected by the poisonous gases of Zaun, a situation they wanted to remedy when they teamed up as colleagues. Still, they never managed to do so due to bureaucracy and the greed of Hextech investors.

Second, Jayce mentions that Viktor often disappears. And Viktor also mentions that he knows someone, who is Singed, his mentor. I believe that Viktor visits Zaun frequently, whether to visit his mentor or immerse himself in his 'metal oasis,' which is part of Piltover's drainage system that ends up in Zaun. Where he sits to think, you can also see the lake where children used to play when he was little.

Viktor is a character who knows the reality of the people of Zaun, of HIS people very well. He always knew that with his mind, he could help those who suffered from social and environmental inequalities.

That’s why he gets so angry at Jayce when he orders a lockdown between Piltover and Zaun, he believes that Jayce understands the consequences of the inequalities in Zaun, but he doesn’t. Jayce still belonged to the wealthy, and it would always be that way because they were born in different contexts. Jayce obviously loves him like a brother, a fraternal love with admiration and deep gratitude for saving his life, but he doesn’t understand the needs of people like Viktor. That’s why Viktor decides not to tell him about the shimmer he carried, knowing Jayce would oppose it and 'wouldn't understand' like he did.

He doesn’t understand that saving the people who live in Zaun is a priority.

It’s entirely understandable that Viktor focuses on saving his life in the last few months he has left because he knows he can help many more people by staying alive and, obviously, because he doesn’t want to die and lose his intellect. It may be an egocentric thought, but it’s a very valid human thought.

This empathy is also noticeable when Sky, Jayce and Viktor’s assistant, dies. The relationship between them isn’t detailed, but it’s mentioned that Sky also lived in Zaun and that he knew her from there when they were children. Amanda Overton (one of the show’s writers) mentioned on her Twitter that she believes that it was Viktor who recommended Sky as their assistant in the lab. Although it was a one-sided love on her part, Viktor had known her for a long time and recognized her talent as a researcher. She wasn’t his friend, but she was within his social circle, which wasn’t very large (Jayce).

When she dies, he feels extremely guilty. It is a natural guilt because he knows that he killed her. But I think it’s something more personal. He cries because another life from Zaun was taken, and this time it wasn’t by the rich people of Piltover, the bureaucracy, but by him, who always wanted to heal people, to save them. Yet, in his hands runs the blood of a Zaunite, like himself. Which makes the situation much, much sadder.

[d-romanov]

eep i’m obsessed with your stories!! if you want any inspiration, maybe soft mama nat taking care of R when she’s sick? R probably isn’t used to being cared for in that way because of her past, and is adamant at first that she’s fine. Ofc Nat provides lots of cuddles and carries weak R throughout the tower

everyone needs a sick day

[ 845 words ]

[ natasha romanoff x teen!widow!reader ]

notes: i'm so glad you like them!! i'm always a sucker for soft nat, and it was fun to write reader being so stubborn :P i hope you enjoy!!

summary: reader is sick and stubborn and natasha thinks it's funny.

cw: mentions of past abuse (the red room)

You figured that your sneezing the other day had just been allergies, and that the chills you had last night were simply the air conditioning being up too high. The unpleasant aching all over must have just been from overdoing it while you were sparring the other day, and your cough was simply a consequence of the air being so dry. It was the middle of winter in New York City, after all.

At no point did you truly consider you were sick. Avenger or not, you were still a Widow, and Widows simply didn't get sick.

Being sick meant you were vulnerable, weak. Weakness wasn't tolerated because weakness got you killed.

It took a long time for you to unlearn all the things you'd been taught, no matter how often Natasha reminds you you're safe when you wake up from a nightmare.

You'd made a lot of progress in your year at the tower, but there were some things that just didn't go away that fast.

So, out of a deeply rooted fear, only exacerbated by the low-grade fever you've had the last two days, you decided you wouldn't tell anyone.

Of course, Natasha, your mentor and mother figure, saw through it straight away when you walked into the kitchen for breakfast. She noted your especially sluggish movements and subtle shivering while you shuffled to the counter.

"How'd you sleep, y/n?" You rub your eyes to try and wake yourself up.

"Fine, you?" It comes out really scratchy and bugs your throat, but you're able to suppress the cough that threatens to bubble up. You're fine.

"I slept alright, just got a little too warm last night, did you notice that?" You're not sure if she's caught on, but you know the tower has impeccable temperature control.

"Eh, a little, wasn't that bad though." You throat feels especially dry when you swallow, and you try to suppress another cough. It doesn't work however, and the choked noise that leaves you is painful.

"Yup thought so." Natasha makes her way next to you and hold her hand to your head, to which you unconsciously lean into the cooling touch. "You're sick, hun."

"M'not sick." You grumble, not bothering to move your head away or sit up straight. You know you've been caught.

"Sweetheart, you're burning up. Let's get you back to bed and get some medicine in you."

Your sick daze impedes your rational thought, and your heart skips a beat at the mention of "medicine."

"No, no Nat 'm fine, really." You stumble when you stand too fast, but Natasha catches your arms gently.

"No, you're sick y/n." Her tone is soft but firm, she's not trying to punish your weakness, she just wants to help. "Now are you gonna listen or do I have to carry you back?" Her mouth quirks up.

You glare defiantly up at Natasha's slightly amused expression. You're not a baby, you don't need to be carried.

Your face scrunches up. "I'm fine." And you sneeze right as you say it. Wonderful.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you. "Alright then," Next thing you know, she's scooped you up with her hands under your back and legs. "Carried it is."

"Wha-! Nat put me down!" You practically squeal as you squirm in her arms, but her hold doesn't falter once.

"Nope! You, miss, are going back to bed and resting until you're better."

"But-!"

"No buts."

You grumble and cross your arms, tucking your head into her neck, which feels cool against your hot forehead.

As Natasha carries you through the tower, you feel yourself relax. Her neck is relief from the fever and headache, the rhythmic bounce from every step is practically rocking you to sleep.

Your body is still periodically shocked by a harsh cough or chill, but Natasha kisses your forehead and shushes you, or squeezes your body a little tighter against hers.

You think you hear someone say 'hi' because Natasha stops before you're on your floor yet, but you're too content in your position to acknowledge it.

Soon enough, you're being placed gently back in your bed and being handed a glass of water and some Tylenol.

You tiredly swallow the pills and drink most of the water, which is soothingly cold as it goes down.

Natasha tucks you in warmly and swipes your hair from your face. "You'll feel better if you get some rest, малышка, and I'll make you some soup when you wake up."

You giggle tiredly. "You can't cook, мама,"

Natasha blows a raspberry at you. "Okay, I'll microwave you some canned soup. How's that?"

"s' good." You're failing at keeping your eyes open, and Nat turns the bedside lamp off and moves to leave. You grumble.

"What is it, детка?"

You reach your hand out lazily, eyes shut and brows furrowed. "Stay."

Natasha smiles and lifts the covers, scooting down and pulling you close under her chin. "Sleep, love."

After some shifting you settle against her and your breathing soon evens out, soundly asleep in your mother's arms.