#sorry I didn’t include all of them but I’m happy to add on more if you have a request for someone who isn’t included!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + one

authors note: hi! this is a complete rework from another roman story i wrote but needed to redo. it's a mafia au, so understandably super dark. a 'blink and you'll miss it' bit of a beauty and the beast retelling. not meant to be anything groundbreaking or unlike most mafia stories.

i've found that my writing is best when 2nd person pov, so i wanted to challenge myself to make this third person to better my writing, thus, bear with me, ya'll. :)

if any cw/tw's are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, mention of parental death, vague hinting at past sexual trauma

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes' by leann rimes

words: 5.2k

Through trial and error, mostly error, a lot of error, Solana Miller has learned and mastered most of the things that upset her father. 

Speaking out of turn. Meals not being ready on time. The house being a “mess.” The actual list is a living breathing thing that grows with each day and every unfortunate occurrence, but always at the very top of this list is lack of punctuality. 

There’s nothing Xavier Miller hates more than lateness. 

And that’s exactly what she is. 

Solana nearly faceplants into the three steps leading into the house with how fast she’s running. Her shaking hand and sweaty palm make it take longer than usual to unlock the front door, and the force in which she slams it shut behind her should be enough to knock the nearby family photo off the wall.

The photo that she is not included in, of course. 

She’s brushing off invisible lent as she rushes into her father’s office. “I’m sorry, there was an—” Her panting mouth snaps shut when she reaches the doorway, hand holding onto the frame of the door. “—accident.”

The minute Solana saw the flashing police lights and array of red brake lights was the moment she realized that she was in for a brutal punishment. She’d started to mentally prepare for such, trying to recall if she’s restocked the first aid kit kept in her bathroom and frequently retrieved. But, it’s not until she’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, an office that’s filled with not only him and her brother, Wes, but other men that she realizes the ferocity of this punishment may be unlike any she’s received in some time.

Not only is she late, but she’s now interrupted some sort of meeting that he wanted her present for. 

Xavier’s eyes land on Solana with faux happiness that conceals flames she recognizes as a precursor for what’s to come. Naturally, like he’s not imagining all the cruel ways he can hurt her, in a way that only he can do, he slaps on a tight smile. “Ahh, there she is.”

Solana also realizes how almost everyone’s gaze is on her, and that doesn't make for a good response because she finds herself asking, “what’s going o—”

Xavier’s smile is very much unlike the ice in his voice. “Silence, child.” 

The sharpness of his command evokes an immediate response. Her shoulders slump and head drops. The displeasure just keeps growing. Solana can already feel the bruises forming, the sting of the ice on her busted lip. 

One of the men, an oversized, middle aged white man with a sharp gaze speaks. “I take it, this is your daughter?”

“It is,” her father confirms. If she didn’t know any better, Solana could almost swear she hears a hint of proudness. “Please forgive her lateness. She knows the importance of obedience.”

And the repercussions of obedience. Repercussions Solana knows await her once this meeting ends.

“I hope she does.” The same white man clears his throat. Solana hears the ruffling of papers but refuses to look up. Her gaze is better served focused on the ground, her silence and submissiveness certainly music to her father’s ears. “We received the requested medical report, and it appears you weren’t lying, Miller. The girl is still a virgin.”

That….that is the moment where it takes all willpower for Solana’s head not to snap up, eyes wide with both confusion and partial recognition. She’d wondered why her father asked her to schedule her yearly check-up with her GYN when she wasn’t due for another couple of months but knew better than to question, so she went ahead and did it. 

And she wondered why this checkup was so….different. Labs were taken, more questions asked, and a vaginal exam that had her leaving more uncomfortable than she’d ever been with Dr. Boyd. Not that seeing the woman was ever an enjoyable time in the first place. She's cold, stoic, an obvious doctor on the mafia payroll, but she's still a woman. 

Solana can't have a male GYN. She can't have a male doctor in any sort of specialty.

The confusion, however, comes into play at this man’s words.

“The girl is still a virgin.” 

That couldn’t be farthest from the truth.

“Her blood work also indicates she should have no problems conceiving a child.”

Emotions overpower reason as Solana breaks her silence and lifts her head. “What?” One furious glance from Xavier, and immediately, she knows that she’s fucked up.

She also realizes that she’s failed to notice one very important member whose sheer size takes up almost the entirety of her father’s onyx black loveseat.

Solana has heard the name Roman Reigns more times than she can keep track of over the years. It’s inescapable to live in this life and not know of the brutal ruler of the Bloodline, one of the most notorious mafia bosses in the underworld. But never in any of her 28 years has she seen him in person. Maybe somewhat in the same vicinity but never in close proximity, not like now where he’s sitting mere feet away from her.

He’s reclined back into the seat, thick legs spread, a blank expression on his handsome, bearded face. His features are sharp and predatory, yet there’s something about his eyes, a beautiful, light shade of brown that’s such a contrast to the cold blooded killer he is. Bulging, rippling muscles seem to be at battle with the plain black shirt he wears, and she notices his silky black hair is pulled back into a surprisingly neat bun of sorts. 

Solana knows that she shouldn't stare, but it’s hard not to. The man is objectively beautiful. He’s also staring directly at her. 

Panicked, her head drops down, eyes returning to continue counting the amount of beige swirls in her father’s persian rug. 

“Shut up…. ”Wes speaks from the other side of the room. He’s leaned up against the column near the bookshelf, lazily spinning around the pocketknife he never goes anywhere without. 

It’s the same knife that’s cut into her skin at least more than a couple of times over the years, drawing various amounts of blood depending on the extent of his anger.

Wes is always angry.

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Heyman.” Solana doesn’t even need to be looking up to know her father has his hand over his chest, that faux sense of honor painting his harsh features. “I would never disrespect the Tribal Chief by wasting his time.” Solana’s throat goes tight. “My daughter is a worthy candidate.”

Candidate. Heir. Virgin.

It doesn’t take long with these major clues for Solana to piece together what they’re discussing, why her presence was required when never before has her father wanted her anywhere near one of his meetings.

Arranged marriage.

They’re discussing a possible arranged marriage between Solana and Roman Reigns. 

Her fingers flex and suddenly start to rub nervously against the soft material of her dress. Any appetite she had prior to entering the home is no longer present, vacated, replaced by a thick, heaping layer of anxiety.

Arranged marriages are far too common in this life. There’s not a week that’s gone by since she became of age that she doesn't hear about some union between two members of rivaling or partnering families. It's just how these things are done.

However, at 28, much past the typical timeline that daughters are married off, she’d accepted that that was not her fate. And she was okay with that, more than okay. Is okay with that.

Solana has a……complicated relationship with men, anyway. With people in general, but especially men.

The thought of her being paired off to Roman is so bad that it’s almost laughable. Their compatibility is in the negative range. He would never give her a second look, not even a first. A man like him needs someone who matches his prowess. She isn’t even on the radar.

And yet…..

And yet her father has somehow garnered interest, provided his counsel with her medical information “proving” her worthiness, and secured a meeting.

Circling back around to the medical report has her chest feeling tight and heavy. Lies. Her father has clearly paid off Dr. Boyd to write up whatever he believed needed to be said to increase his chances of locking in this deal.

She doesn’t know about the fertility portion, never really bothering or concerning herself with that part of her health. Someone has to have to have sex to conceive a child, and as far as Solana is concerned, that's never going to happen.

Not....not again.

But the virgin part is most definitely a lie. The physical exam certainly would have confirmed that.

And yet, the exact opposite was stated. 

Chills instantly move down her spine. Her father is perpetuating a fraud. Even more, he’s perpetuating fraud to a man who’s rumored to have a body count in the thousands. The same man he’s trying to pawn her off to.

This….this is not good.

It’s not good at all.

—----------

“She’s weak.”

That’s the first thing to leave Roman's mouth since they entered the Miller Manor, and it’s not announced until they're back in the SUV and on their way back to his estate.

Checking emails and clearing notifications that piled during the time his phone was tucked away, he continues. “Too young. Has no backbone. It’s embarrassing.” Roman’s tone, much like everything else about that pointless meeting, reeks of boredom. 

“Her father clearly has her on a tight leash,” Rikishi adds. He brings the handkerchief he keeps in his shirt pocket and swipes it across his forehead, dapping up the light sheen of sweat that’s already formed in the walk from the house to the SUV. “But, a very pretty girl.”

Roman cannot and will not disagree on that. She’s undeniably beautiful, but everything else about her is unappealing. And saying Miller has her on a tight leash is an understatement. She’s terrified of him. The brother too,  and Roman would take a solid guess that one of the two is responsible for the slightly faded but still visible bruise he noticed on Solana’s upper forearm. 

There’s some conflicted emotion present at that piece of information, though he mostly leans in one direction.

Women and children should be off limits. Specifically, women and children who aren’t already indoctrinated into the life to the point of training. Roman knows plenty of kids who completed their first kill while still in single digits and women who fight better than some of his men. For them, it’s free game. They’ve proven they can handle themselves.

Solana doesn’t fall in any of those categories, and he’d be shocked if she even knows how to hold a gun.

Thus, in his mind, she’s off-limits.

Nonetheless, his family is full of fighters, regardless of sex.

So there's the other part of him that can't understand her passivity, that believes she's just weak. 

The thought process generates a list of other, much more adequate options. “What about Belair?”

“Engaged to be married in the Montez family.” Roman rolls his eyes. That fucker is an irritating prick. Seems like a desperate match. 

“Cargill?”

“She….” It’s slightly comical for Roman, watching the older man work his hardest to explain what was inarguably a disrespectful rejection. “---is not interested.” 

A dark chuckle leaves his throat. “She said fuck off, didn’t she?”

“More or less.” 

Roman smiles. He would expect nothing less. Cargill is a beast of a woman, a sure fun time in the sheets if she would ever remove the stick from up her ass.

“If I may, my Tribal Chief….” When Roman remains quiet, he takes that as his cue to continue. “The girl may be young and docile, but that also makes her moldable. She will do whatever you want with no protest. Is that not a possible advantage?” Roman continues to look out the window, allowing Paul to add on, “and she will have no problem giving you an heir, which is inarguably the most important thing at this point in your life.”

“He brings up a good point, uce,” Rikishi chimes. “With your temper, it’s probably best for you to take a wife who is more passive than dominant.”

Logically, it makes sense, but the idea of a stuttering, stammering wife who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than a minute doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. 

“And as far as age, she’s closer to 30 than anything. You go for any older, and you might run into fertility struggles. This is the perfect age.” Rikishi’s crooked smile is followed by a small chuckle. “You ain’t so young yourself anymore, uce. Gotta have an even balance.”

There’s a difference between a balance and a child. Roman is prepared to say as such when Jimmy speaks, deciding to add his two cents from the passenger's seat.

“Look, Big Dog. All you need is for her to give you a kid, and you heard Paul. She can do that. Ain’t no need in making this bigger than what it is.” His insertion and contribution to the conversation ends up being valid. Granted, if he was anyone else, the delivery would have resulted in a maiming. But, this is Jimmy. He’s like a brother to Roman. Him and Jey. Hence their privilege with speaking so bluntly. “Shit, and did you see that body? Mannn, I’d never pull out of that.”

Also a valid point. Her dress was fitted around the chest area, accentuating heavy breast he could most definitely see himself palming as he fucked her from behind. The rest of the dress wasn’t as contoured, but it flowed against her shape when she walked in, and he could make out the curves he was certain she preferred to keep hidden. It’d been a while since he’d taken a woman to bed with a body like hers, a preference, but also not as easy to find in his world of fit assassins and killers who spend more time in the gym than anywhere else.

His latest set of women were on the slimmer side, moderate thickness, nothing like this girl.

But sexual desirability aside, her passivity indicates she’d be….that kind of woman. The woman who expects words of affirmation and quality time. A “gentle” kind of woman who’d want him to be sweet and patient in the bedroom, to make love to her. Roman is neither and none of those things.

He fucks, and he fucks hard. Subsequently, his wife should be cut from the same cloth. 

“Just….think about it, my Tribal Chief, hmmm?” Paul’s voice is tentative, laced with that tone that indicates he believes the decision should be made sooner rather than later. Granted, he values his life and standing in the bloodline, so he opts to not implement time constraints. 

A wise decision. 

“The scars.” Roman counted eight of them total, the one most pronounced on her face, slashing across her right eye and into the top of her cheek. The type of scar that’s embedded into the skin. And the soul. With a few of his own, it’s one of the first things he noticed. “What’s the story there?”

Paul quickly pulls out the portfolio from his briefcase, hurriedly flipping through papers when he settles on the one he’s looking for. “Ahhh….” Paul clears his throat, a telltale sign that’s he uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “2005. It was a hit. Her mother was killed in the attack. Knifing. Solana survived, clearly.”

Roman turns his attention from the passing cars to look at his Wise Man. For the first time since this whole interview process began, Roman is intrigued. “She was there?” Paul confirms as such and says something else, but Roman’s attention is out the window again, haphazardly watching the flow of traffic, assimilating and accommodating this new piece of information. 

This may be the one and only thing he can understand about this girl. Something…something he can relate to. 

Survival

One doesn’t go through something like that without coming out on top or letting it bury you. Unlike him, she’d clearly gone the latter route. Granted, just making it out alive, physically, he knows better than anyone, is a feat in and of itself.

“Give me her file.”

—-------------

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was…..a day.

I’m not even sure where to begin, because I’m not sure what to even feel at this moment to be honest. Dad is trying to marry me off to a mafia head, which would be fine, except….except that head is Roman Reigns. He’s….he’s a monster, mama. Has no soul. Not that many men in this life do, but there’s something about him that’s even more terrifying than the others. To make matters worse, dad had Dr. Boyd lie in my medical report. She wrote that I’m still a virgin, I guess something about my hymen still being intact. Mama, that’s a lie. There’s no way that’s possible. 

Not.....with what they did to me.

I’m trying hard not to panic, because there’s no way Roman would go for me. He’s a monster, yes, but even Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel. He’s a very handsome man. He would never want someone like me.

I don’t know any man who would.

“Solana.”

Solana quickly snaps her journal closed, using the pen in her hand to mark her spot. She’s met with the gentle smile of 73–year–old Meryl Jensen, a widow who’s worked at this library for almost forty years.

Solana still remembers the first day she met Mrs. Jensen. She was 6-years-old, and her mom was looking for a certain book she’d read about in the newspaper. A book that she hoped would further and better her English speaking skills. A native of Mexico, Nina Miller taught herself English by immersing herself into American literature, film, and music. 

Similarly, Nina taught her Solana Spanish by immersing her daughter in Spanish literature, film, and music. A secret among the two as an always hostile, paranoid Xavier “banned” Nina from teaching their daughter a language he couldn’t understand.

If he couldn’t control it, it was a no-go.

But it was when Mrs. Jensen was helping Nina locate her book, Solana noticed another book sitting near a kids display. Goodnight Moon.

If Solana tries hard enough, she can still remember the warm smile her mother gave her as she allowed her to check out the book, her very first "purchase" from the library. It started a love of books, aided by Mrs. Jensen who always provided appropriate recommendations to Solana and her mom.

Not that Solana tries to think too much about memories with her mother. They’re almost always ruined and replaced with the sounds of the butcher knife slicing into her mother’s body as Nina used the last of her strength to shield and protect her daughter from the violent assault that would end up taking her life.

Solana’s smile, however, does dim and her stomach drops when she realizes that Ms. Jensen isn’t alone. 

“This girl is always writing, I swear.” It’s only when the older woman refers to her book that Solana quickly closes up her journal, shoving it to the side.

Her eyes never leave Roman though.

And his certainly aren’t leaving her, even as Mrs. Jensen places a hand on his arm, laughing at her own joke.

Mrs. Jensen then squints her eyes and leans over the counter. “Child, did you fall again?” It takes a second for recognition to dawn. She’s then hit with the memory of her father backhanding her across the room, the force sending her to the floor after the dispersion of yesterday’s meeting. A truly pale punishment compared to some of his prior assaults. “My goodness.” Mrs. Meryl laughs, shaking her head. “An everyday klutz I tell you. I can’t think of one day she hasn’t come in here without some kind of mark from her clumsiness.”

Roman’s staring directly at Solana while acknowledging the older woman’s casual observation. “Interesting.” He then darts his eyes, offering a smile that, if one didn’t know any better, could be considered genuine. But Solana does know better. She knows much better. “Could you give us a moment?”

Of course, Mrs. Jensen obliges, saying something about hushing up some boisterous high school students on the first level before it’s just Solana and Roman. 

She has a million and one questions, starting with why the hell Roman Reigns is at her job. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good. A man like him only brings about chaos and mayhem.

And death.

Swallowing and powering through the onslaught of anxiety, she starts off in an unsurprisingly soft voice, “if you’re looking for my father, he’s—”

“If I wanted your father, I would be speaking to him right now.” Roman’s interruption is dangerously calm, but Solana detects a hint of irritation. “You’re the one I want.”

Oh.

What in the world this man could want with Solana is beyond her. To make matters worse, Solana catches his gaze on her bruised cheek again. Makeup could only do much, but she's really starting to wish she went for heavier coverage. She drops her head, focusing on the denim of her jeans to avoid his burning stare. “I—umm.”

Solana’s body registers before her head does that Roman is lifting his hand to touch her. She responds accordingly, jumping back and away from the interaction. He chuckles, darkly, lowering his hand to his side. “That was some fall.”

Solana unconsciously brings her hand to hover over her cheek. “I’m—clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” It takes a second for Solana to register his blunt comment and another for her to digest that he’s calling her bluff. “But, you are a terrible liar.”

He’s not wrong on either note, but she’s unsure just how to respond. “What—what do you want from me?”

Roman straightens up, and just the sheer size of him makes her swallow in fear. He’s a beast of a man, more beast though than anything else. “To make sure you understand what this is. It’s obvious Miller didn’t inform you about the meeting, and I won’t go into anything with anyone unless they’re fully aware of what they’re signing up for.”

If he’s waiting for Solana to acknowledge the first part of his reason for showing up at her job, he does a poor job waiting because he goes straight into his disclaimer. 

“I have no desire to be with you or any other woman for anything more than a sexual release. We’ll ensure my bloodline continues, but that’s it. Financially, you’ll want for nothing, and I can assure you, your clumsiness won’t be an issue. But, I will never love you, never see you as anything more than a business arrangement because that’s what you are.” He’s studying her facial expressions, reading all of the emotions oscillating around. “Do you understand?”

There’s a couple of different thoughts racing through her mind at this moment, but the dominant thought is wondering just what in the hell would possess someone like him to ever even consider someone like her? He is the definition of brute strength in all areas. She is beyond broken. There can’t be anything appealing about that.

But then….maybe there is. Roman knows she will not cause him any trouble, can recognize this brokenness and sees it as an easy way to get what he needs while still having the freedom to do whatever, and whoever he wants. It’s a bit of a win-win. 

And as far as the love aspect…..

Solana learned a long time ago that all of the fairytales lied. There is no prince that rides in and saves the damsel in distress. No one to swoop in and save you from the monster. It’s either killed or be killed, and her death already occurred on August 7th, 2005.

As ironic and fucked up as it is, Solana recognizes this is the best deal she’ll ever get in her life. 

With quite literally nothing to lose, she acknowledges him.

“I understand.”

—---------

The minute Solana steps into the house, she’s immediately shoved into the freshly painted wall behind her. A strong hand is on her throat, restricting her breathing.

“What did you say to him!”

Fingers foolishly grasping at the hand suffocating her, Solana tries to speak even with knowing that it’s impossible when she can’t even breathe. This only pisses her brother off even more. He bangs her head into the wall, causing the nearby pictures to shake. “Answer me, you stupid bitch!”

“Let her go, Wes.”

Xavier’s command is followed with a delayed acquiescence. Solana falls to the floor, coughing and gasping violently. She brings her hand to the back of her head to check for any blood, but her gaze is soon on the black leather shoes her blurred version is able to make out.

Solana cries out when her father grips her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him.

“We know Reigns came to see you at your job today.”

At some point in her life, Solana would be stunned and partially disturbed this, by how her father is aware of this piece of information.  But, this is no longer that time in her life. That time when she was naive enough to think that she could ever escape this life, ever leave and never look back.

She’d tried once. Foolishly. And it landed her in the hospital for two weeks. 

Solana can still remember her father’s dry, cracked lips pressing an insincere kiss against her temple as he said in the calmest yet coldest voice. “You ever try to leave this place again, and I’ll make sure to finish the job.” 

That was the last time she ever fooled herself into believing better waited for her.

“Now, what did you say to him?”

“I—I—nothing.” It’s not a lie but not the entire truth. She didn’t say anything that should have pissed him off. Then again, with a man as temperamental as Roman, anything and everyone could piss him off. Look at her dad and brother. “What did he—”

A phone ringing possibly saves, or just delays, the next set of hits. And even better, it’s Xavier’s phone.

He pulls it out of the back pocket of his pants, eyes lighting up. With a mischievous smile, he taps the screen twice, answering, “my Tribal Chief.” Solana’s eyes widen. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Cut the bullshit, Miller.” Roman’s deep, baritone voice is powerful and authoritative, even when he’s not even in the room. “You know why I’m calling.” And before her father can further upset him, Roman jumps straight to the point. “We have a deal.”

It’s been some time since Solana has been so thoroughly surprised by something she’s heard that she briefly loses awareness of where she is. But this….this is one of those moments. 

He can’t…..he can’t have said what she thinks he just said. Her acknowledging understanding was just a formality. She didn’t think he was actually considering marrying her.

Xavier’s smile is broad, signs of a man who just got exactly what he wanted. “Wonderful. We shall start planning.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will be two weeks from today.”

The tightening in her chest has returned. Solana is certain she’s about to start hyperventilating. This….this can’t be happening. 

Xavier and Wes share a look as he stammers with a response. “Uhh, yes, of course—whatever you wa—”

“Oh, and Miller?”

Irritation flashes in Xavier’s eyes, but he shoves it back for a polite acknowledgment. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“You or your boy lay a single fucking finger on her again, and I’ll gut you both where there’s nothing left to bury.”

Solana is almost certain there’s not a single one of them that’s not taken back by Roman’s icy warning. However, she swallows when her father’s fire gaze lands on her. She knows immediately she’s in for a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

Xavier laughs quietly. “That girl has always been so clumsy. I assure you—”

“One.”

Xavier is understandably confused by Roman’s single-word response. “Pardon?”

“Everyone gets one chance to lie to me. You’ve just used yours.” For the briefest hint of a second, Solana believes she sees fear flash in her father’s eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

The phone disconnects. 

Silence settles over the three of them, but it doesn’t last. 

“I–I don’t understand.” Solana finds her voice, unable to stay quiet in a moment that’s completely just changed the course of her life. “I–I can’t marry Roman.”

For a lot of reasons. Many reasons that she can list out and defend if given the chance.

Solana is consumed by her thoughts and pending mental breakdown, so much so that she misses when her brother stalks across the room. He throws her back up against the wall, and the minute her eyes land on the silver, she’s frozen in place.

His grin is predatory and satisfactory as he murmurs, floating the knife in front of her. “It seems you’ve finally made your existence have some type of purpose.” Solana has to close her eyes. Just seeing knives sometimes brings her back to that night, and having one pressed against her….

Wes knows exactly how agonizing that is to her, hence his favorite method of torture. 

Swallowing, she weakly protests, “you—you told them I’m a virgin.”

That’s a major reason why. Her father has made her out to be some chaste, pure woman when she’s anything but. And to lie to Roman, of all people, about something like that.

They’ve more or less signed her death decree.

“No. Dr. Boyd’s medical reports confirmed you’re still untouched, and you’ll go along with it for however long is necessary.” Xavier’s rebuttal is smooth and to the point, like he doesn’t see the issue with his actions.

He never does. 

“Don’t you understand?” Wes lazily slides the knife up and down her skin, smiling at the terror in her face. It’s his greatest motivation, witnessing the extent of her fear toward him. “We’d let Reigns and his entire bloodline fuck you if that’s what it took to get what we want.”

Solana has no shock value at his words. Wes stopped caring anything for her the minute she got their mother killed, and it’s not as if she can entirely blame him. 

Nina would still be alive if not for Solana. It’s something she accepted ages ago, an undeniable truth. 

However, she does have to ask in a pained voice, “what do you want?”

Xavier supplies, taking a hit of his cigar she didn’t realize he was holding this whole time. “We want and will have control of the bloodline.”

If not for her current situation, she’d laugh. Control of the bloodline. That’s….that’s not even a dream. That’s a delusion. Still, there’s an undertone to his voice and words that alarm her. In a quiet voice, she protests. “That’s—that’s impossible.”

Solana hisses as Wes presses the knife deeper into her throat, nicking her skin and drawing blood. “No, it isn’t, not anymore. Because we have a way in.”

And it’s with widened eyes and a constricted throat that Solana finally understands what’s happening, what they plan to have happen. 

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “No….”

Xavier answers with a cruel, wicked smile. “You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Itcha gurl, back at it again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The doctor checks the chart then glances at the machine with your father’s vitals. Today, you’re father’s awake. He has been for a few days but today he’s alert. You know because he told you the jello was disgusting. Those are the first and only words he’s said to you in more than two weeks.

“You’re very lucky to have a daughter who knows what she’s doing,” Dr. Shearer remarks.

Your father grumbles, scowling as he doesn’t offer much else to the doctor.

“You must be happy to have her around,” Shearer continues, “it is time to start considering your discharge. You’re stable, breathing on your own again, your heartbeat is within a normal range.” You watch your father as he stares past the doctor. It’s as if he refuses to acknowledge that this is real. “You’ll have a few new meds to add to your day but with normal check-ups I think we can be optimistic.”

A grunt. You fold your hands and stand up, “thank you, doctor. Erm, could someone explain the new medicines to me?”

“Yes, of course. That’ll be in the discharge paperwork but I’ll have a Nurse Practitioner come to discuss with both of you,” he assures, “and some resources on quitting. The cigarettes can’t continue.”

“I’ll smoke if I goddamn want,” your dad snarls, breaking his shield of indifference.

The doctor gives him a sharp look but doesn’t argue, “I’m only here to diagnose and give me treatment suggestions. But you keep smoking, sir, and next time, you won’t make it to the hospital.”

“Good,” your dad sneers defiantly.

The doctor nods and his mouth seals grimly. He turns back to you, “let us know if you need anything else. We have some support groups and resources, I’ll make sure that info is also sent off with you.”

“Thanks so much, Doctor,” you squeeze your hands tighter. You want to apologise for your father but you know he’ll only get worse if you do.

“It’s alright,” Shearer says as if reading your mind, “these things are stressful. For everyone. Couple more days and he’ll be free to go.”

You try to smile but your cheeks can only tremble. The doctor leaves you with your father and you peek over at him. He grimaces at the ceiling.

“That’s good news, dad,” you say as you near the foot of his bed.

“Is it? You shoulda left me to die,” he barks.

You flinch, not once, twice. A chirp in your pocket further jars you as it shrilly erupts in the buzzing silence. You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and clutch your flip phone as it bings even louder. The little digital display shows the agency’s number.

“Sorry,” you apologise and flip it open, turning away to scurry out and answer, “hello?”

You hold your breath. Why are they calling? You didn’t have a job today and you only really get emails regarding clients. It must be very serious.

“It’s Clara,” your boss begins in her terse way. “Have you seen my email?”

She sighs, “you should be checking daily. Got a job today. You want it?”

You blink. This is the first time you’ve been asked to come in for an extra shift. You could use the money desperately. When your dad is discharged, he’ll be sent off with another invoice.

“Yes,” you accept without hesitation, “I’ll take it.”

“Great. Check your email. Details are there,” she sniffs.

“Alright, tha-nks,” your voice cracks as she hangs up in the middle of your last word. She must be busy, surely more busy than you, the lowest rung on the ladder she has to keep from falling over.

You close the phone and put it back in your pocket. You shuffle back into the room and find your father with his eyes closed. The machine continues to beep in time with his pulse.

“I gotta work,” you say, “that was my boss–”

“Then leave me alone,” he snaps without opening his eyes, “can’t you see I’m tryna sleep?”

“Sorry, I–”

“Go and don’t come back,” he growls, “I don’t need you crowding this shit hole.”

“Um, dad, I–”

He coughs and hacks and waves you off, swallowing thickly, “I said go.”

You dip your head down. You can’t imagine being in his position. Stuck in a hospital bed on the other side of near-death. You might not be very nice yourself.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I don’t care,” he turns his head and wiggles his shoulders as he tries to get comfortable.

You swallow down the hurt. You didn’t expect him to thank you for what you did. Not for anything. That’s just what you do for someone you love. Yet, you hoped he might have woken up a little bit nicer than before.

“Love you, Dad,” you murmur.

He grumbles. That’s all you get. You suck in a breath and hold it in, trying to keep from crumbling long enough to get out of that room.

🧹

At first, you’re not certain the information in the email is correct. You’re to return to Mr. Laufeyson’s house for the second time that week, but it’s a Friday night. In your days at the hospital, the calendar lines skewed between the alarms you kept in your phone for sanity. The return to reality is just as disjointing as the descent away from it.

You go home and change into your typical cleaning attire. All black. Plain. Clothes meant for getting dirty. Not that any of your wardrobe is particularly spectacular.

You grab your kit and your water bottle and rush out to catch the bus. You’re not used to being on transit near-dark. The prospect of getting home comes to mind as you cling to a pole amidst the crowded vehicle. It makes you nervous but you’re certain it will be okay. Mr. Laufeyson lives in a nice neighbourhood.

You get off the bus and bring your phone out. As you approach the house, it is lively with bodies milling in and out. You let yourself through the gate and peer over at the two cube vans near the front entrance. A white jacket, pristine uniforms, you can only assume they are some sort of catering company. The type you’ve seen on TV in those reality shows with women drinking wine.

You watch them for a moment. They are orderly and determined. What’s more, they work together in perfect harmony, words passing quietly and easily, trays moving smoothly between hands and set onto carts. It’s a shining contrast to your dim and lonely work.

You make yourself turn away and continue around the back of the house. You stop short of the rear corner and a gasp bubbles up. You watch a hummingbird buzzing over the bed of flowers. It’s so small and green and cute. You wince as it flits up towards the window, your cheeks bulbing to the smile as your gaze follows it. 

In a moment, it wings away, shyly retreating from your admiration. Your eyes fall to the window as you sense a shift on the other side. Just between the edges of the half-drawn drapes you meet a pair of green eyes over a long and cynical nose. Your smile dissolves as you recognise Mr. Laufeyson and his stony observation. You touch your fingertips to your mouth in self-reproach and tuck your chin down, turning back onto the path.

You go to the back door but it’s already unlocked. You let the handle go and linger outside. You noticed the email is shorter than usual. This isn’t your typical rote with Mr. Laufeyson.

‘Cleaner to be at standby for guests and cook…’

You glance down the paragraph. You’re to stay until after the ‘event’ so that you may tidy up. Your curiosity sparks but quickly fizzles. It’s best not to be too concerned. Just focus on what you need to do.

You let yourself in but forego the shoe covers and gloves as specified in the email. You hang your hoodie in the closet along with your kit. As you hook the strap of your water bottle over your head, a glimmer passes down the end of the hall and the lighting shifts. You look up as Mr. Laufeyson approaches.

He always dresses finely but he looks particularly put together. His hair is tidy and neat and he wears a velvet jacket in a deep shade of violet over a black collared shirt and matching trousers. His tie is narrow and blends into the fabric of his shirt. He keeps his hands behind him as he holds his chin up.

“I trust you understand your assignment,” he prompts as he stops a foot away, cornering you in the back hallway.

You nod. He tilts his head but his veneer does not break.

“Not that,” he points to the water bottle, “you may ask one of the cook’s assistants for a glass should you require it, but be rid of that ugly thing.”

“Oh–” you gulp back your voice and bow your head again. 

You untangle the trap from your torso and open the closet, tucking it away with your sweater and bag. You shut the door and find him closer than before, his hand on the door frame as he looms over you. His other wanders down the trim of his jacket.

“You are to keep yourself unseen. You tend to messes and that’s it. The rules remain. Are we understood?” He asks.

You look at him and nod. He sighs and stands straight, a deep breath rising in his chest. 

“You may answer aloud so I know we are clear,” he says.

“I understand, Mr. Laufeyson,” you eke out.

“Mmm,” his gaze lingers on you in unreadable consideration. Dressed in plain cotton, you feel wholly insignificant before him. “Go on, you will keep your vigil in the kitchen. They would require most of your assistance.” He backs away and buttons the front of his jacket, “you will not disturb my guests. Not a look, not a word.”

You know your turn to talk is over. You merely nod and he seems pleased by your deference. Not openly, he shows a hint of a smile nor does he praise you. But he is not unhappy and you know that is a feat.

🧹

The cook’s name is Corissa. She has spiraled red hair and pretty gold-green eyes. As you enter, she introduces herself and asks your name.

“I’m just here to clean,” you explain. “So if you need me–”

“Oh, hon, no need ta be shy,” she says in her wolfish voice, “we’re all in this togetha.”

You smile and stand against the wall, waiting to be told what to do next. She gives you a lingering glance but doesn’t comment. You see a question woven in her brow. She begins her work, directing her assistants at saucepan and cutting board alike, all while falling into a raucous rapport.

“Theo say ‘ma, did ya have ta tell that story?’” She cackles midway through a tale you lost track of, her hands moving expertly at her work, “and I say, ‘the gal deserves ta know, ‘specially if ya mean to burden her’.”

You bite into your lower lip. It’s like there’s an invisible wall in front of you. It’s been there your whole life. That one that separates you from others. You’re always on the outside watching. Just like in the schoolyard when the girls wouldn’t let you play with them. Or when your dad has his buddies over and told you to ‘piss off to your room’.

The first course is served on sleek black trays. As you watch the servers carry them out, Corissa calls your name. She makes you lurch in surprise as you’d be convinced you blend right into the plaster.

“Come have a taste,” she insists, “this one’s a bit mussed up.”

“Um, er, it’s okay, I’m not hungry–”

“Bah, come on, have some. I hate ta toss it in the bin.”

You don’t want to argue. That would be rude. So you come forward and accept the crumbly pastry with an ugly tear in the top, the filling bulging out.

“Lobster croquette,” she explains, “you’re not allergic, are ya?”

You shake your head and thank her as you back up to the wall again. You cup your hand under the misshapen ball as you bite into it. You could hum at the taste. It’s delicious and rich and savoury. You’ve never had anything like it. You’ve never even tasted lobster before.

“You like it?” She asks as you swallow your mouthful. You nod. “Quiet one, you.” She points at you.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You are quiet. You finish the croquette and go to dust the crumbs off your hand over the bin. You slide your foot off the pedal and let the lid drop. You take the cloth from your waistband and near the counter, going to work at tidying up the remnants of her work.

“Eh, look at you, busy little bee,” she chuckles, “I was gettin’ ta tha.”

“My job,” you insist.

“Maid,” a snap of the fingers draws your head up as Corissa sprinkles seasoning into a new pan.

Mr. Laufeyson offers only a curled finger. Your eyes round and cross to him, tucking the cloth into your pants again. He’s already striding away as you get to the door. You trail him, uncertain at what he needs. 

He leads you to the dining room, the garble of voices and clinking of glasses preceding your arrival. He enters ahead of you and claims the seat at the head of the table. The serves pass you with empty trays and you gape around in confusion.

“Oh my, look at me,” a woman giggles as she uses a cloth napkin to pat along her collarbone. Thin straps cling to her delicate shoulders as her skin glistens beneath the golden chain strung around her throat, “making a scene already.”

You see the wine glass on its side and hear the contents dripping onto the floor. You put your head down and hurry over. The dinner guests laugh and are quickly onto their next topic, about some coast they plan to vacation at once the summer comes. You try not to eavesdrop as you sop up the puddle of wine on the table and get down to wipe clean the floor.

As you do, you feel a tickle on the back of your neck. You don’t let it stop you. It must be an accident. You’re so cramped between the woman’s seat and the next that you must be in the way. The fingertips remain and brush more firmly as you hear a low, gritty exhale. 

You ball up the damped cloth and stand, daring a glance at the man as he draws his hand back into his lap. His broad shoulders make the back of the tall chair seem small and his blonde hair is twisted into a low tight bun. He guffaws loudly at the table, seemingly unfazed by his own wandering touch. It must’ve been an accident.

You back up and peer towards the head of the table. Laufeyson’s eyes are slits as he stares in your direction. Surely, he’s not watching you. You’re supposed to be unseen. Get out of there.

You retreat quickly, the din thundering louder and louder at your back, rumbling behind you into the hall. You wring the cloth, now stained and stinking of wine. You hope you didn’t upset Mr. Laufeyson, you only did as you were told.

[aroace-poly-show]

hello friends we are starting this kind of early cause i have. a lot of mutuals. so. taking in requests now for the

marlo mutual christmas/winter gift doodles

putting this above the read more so people see it: ‼️‼️you do not need to celebrate christmas for this!! if you’re one of my mutuals that doesn’t celebrate christmas but you still want one you are still included ‼️‼️and if you really don’t want one then just like the post without commenting please ‼️‼️ otherwise i might assume you just haven’t seen the post and dm you to be sure aifbksnfnd (or let me know directly. comment or dm or ask or whatever you want. i just need to know that you’ve seen it and don’t want one)

i did this last year. really simple concept. you give me a few characters you like and i will draw a silly little doodle for you and send you an ask (or dm or tag you in a post with if i can’t send it in an ask for whatever reason) on christmas day!! i will have this post queued to go up multiple times a day so hopefully people don’t miss it sorry if it gets annoying fast LMAO

some answers to potential questions and clarifications here:

-you are not required to give me a doodle in return, you can if you want but you do not have to!! there is no pressure to!!! if you do want to make a return gift though then characters i like i’ll list them at the bottom

-begging you. if we’re mutuals and you want one pleaseeeee respond in the comments. it keeps things all in one place for me, and if i am not sure whether you want one or not i will just ask you directly and i get Anxious so if you want to save yourself the trouble of me bothering you in dms for it pleaseeee don’t feel like you’re not included in this, and just comment on the post

-id appreciate like. a handful of characters you’d be happy to receive a doodle of and not just One, since i might have trouble drawing some and i don’t wanna send you a really shitty doodle or stress myself out trying to get it right in time fjnskdnsk

-they do not have to be characters i know about!! literally any you like!!

-i’m doing this really early so i can give myself enough time for it but if you change your mind on the characters before just let me know!!

ummm. if i need to add more i will. but i think that’s it for now!! praying i’ll actually be able to go through with this i am so sorry if i end up having to give stuff out late 💔💔

anyway if you really do want to give me one in return. i think i’m pretty obvious about who i like and you’re free to do others i didn’t mention here that you know i like too, but here’s a few jic anyone wants a list: anyone from wonderlands x showtime, mafuyu asahina, basil from omori, vflower, siffrin, loop, mirabelle

[fluorynn]

༊*·˚ — Avatar Characters with poc!human!reader who wears lipgloss.

ೃ⁀➷ Includes : Jake and Neytiri, Quaritch, Neteyam, Lo’ak

ೃ⁀➷ Warnings / Mentions : kissing, lipgloss, kissing, lipgloss, kissing, mentions of Jake and Neytiri wanting relationship with reader, Neteyam being a curious sweet gentleman, making out!

author’s note : I sincerely don’t even know what this is, lol. Some things feel a little dry to me — so I tried leaving this then coming back with the right motivation 😭 it just came together and I wanted to get it out of the drafts! Comment, reblog, do what you must! Enjoy<33

༊*·˚ Jake & Neytiri !

ೃ⁀➷ Neytiri was the first to notice this.

ೃ⁀➷ She had been engaged in a conversation with you, and thanks to her swift glances, you didn’t catch the way she would look at your mouth as words tumbled out of it.

ೃ⁀➷ a shimmer of something on your flesh, somehow…enlightening your entire face? What is this thing you wear? She thought.

ೃ⁀➷ It was odd — she had even had the urge to reach and dab the point of her thumb against your lower lip, wanting to smear off this…liquid you carried. But, she did not want to ruin the conversation she had with you, the way you happily spoke to her. So, with the best of her abilities, she ignored this oddness.

ೃ⁀➷ She had mentioned it to her mate, Jake. Both had set their eyes on you, a lovely, most intriguing human to them.

ೃ⁀➷ During Jake’s ‘good’ ol’ human days back on Earth, he of course recalled how women wore makeup — subtle to the most vivid and quite impressive work.

ೃ⁀➷ He was more of the natural beauty type of guy, but he didn’t mind if his future girl was into these kinds of things — he’d appreciate the added on beauty she’d give herself.

ೃ⁀➷ But he didn’t think he’d ever catch a glimpse of makeup in Pandora, the Na’vi don’t seem to need anything like that and the humans in the outpost didn’t really care much for these kinds of things anymore—

ೃ⁀➷ But he never expected to hear this from Neytiri. He had furrowed his brows at her words, asking what exactly was the issue? He didn’t understand, and all Neytiri did was huff, roll her eyes, and walk away from a confused Jake 🫥🫥

ೃ⁀➷ But then he sees you wearing this — don’t get him wrong; you’re already beautiful in his eyes. But when he catches a glimpse of lipgloss accentuating those lips of yours, it shoots something in him that’s …rather less questionable and more thrilling.

ೃ⁀➷ you didn’t think too much on it when he commented on it one day in the human outpost, wanting to visit Norm and you— not until you catch his eyes falter on your mouth a few more seconds longer than he usually does; his tail swishing around, the tip of it lightly brushing your leg emitting a raised brow from you.

ೃ⁀➷ “Trying new stuff now, huh?”

ೃ⁀➷ He’s not complaining though!

ೃ⁀➷ He likes when your upper lip curled up to give a smile and eye roll, and the shininess of that lipgloss only seems to add onto that happy gleam.

ೃ⁀➷ And then Neytiri came to view, which surprises you because she never comes around here, she gives him a look as to indicate what she was talking about, and you were incredibly confused as to why a laugh boomed out of him and why Neytiri gave him a venomous glare.

ೃ⁀➷ “Neytiri, baby — it’s lipgloss. Nothing harmful, nothing bad. Jus’ something to make her feel good…right?”

ೃ⁀➷ You then elaborated to Neytiri more about lipgloss once you were informed of what these two were on about, having them both crouched in front of you.

ೃ⁀➷ “…you do not feel good then, tawtute?” A furrow to her forehead, a purse to her lips as she spoke this.

ೃ⁀➷ You glared at Jake. “Jake ... .seriously— no, it’s not that I don’t feel good, Tiri. I just wanted to…change things up a bit. That’s all.”

ೃ⁀➷ “what flavor is it?”

ೃ⁀➷ “I’m sorry?”

ೃ⁀➷ There he goes and gives you that charming lopsided grin. “C’mon — what flavor is it?”

ೃ⁀➷ “I don’t see why it matter to you, but it’s raspberry—”

ೃ⁀➷ “Can I have some?”

ೃ⁀➷ this confused the both of you, but Jake only threw Neytiri a wink and looked back down at you.

ೃ⁀➷ “I left it back…in my room though—”

ೃ⁀➷ The next thing you know, a firm touch pressed over your ajar mouth, and you blinked once, twice, three times when he pulled away, his own mouth slightly glistening with your lipgloss and the addition of the moist added from his tongue as it slowly dragged over his lower lip.

ೃ⁀➷ “huh, yeah you’re right. It does taste like raspberry— baby Neytiri, you want some? It’s good.” The golds of his eyes shimmered as he said this, and your shock was added onto when he pecked her mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ She blinks in surprise, but catches the fruitful taste. She looks at him, then at you, a subtle quirk to her mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ “I believe I need a better taste…tawtute? I can?”

ೃ⁀➷ You don’t have time to reply however, for she pulls you close, and places a much softer, much lingering kiss on your lips.

ೃ⁀➷ Your insides are stirred, your mind a turmoil of emotions but don’t fight it. Not when this strong ass, goddess-like woman is holding you and kissing you, trying to find taste in the lipgloss you wear.

ೃ⁀➷ Jake only watches with a grin, his tail swishing side to side in anticipation when she pulls away from you, a pensive look in those golden eyes while little poor you is left in a haze.

ೃ⁀➷ “Yes. You are right, It does not taste odd.”

ೃ⁀➷ she then pulls you to her chest and smushed her cheek against your forehead. “Though you are good enough without it.”

ೃ⁀➷ your face would be very flustered, blood boiling beneath the flesh of your cheeks at what was occurring. You glance at Jake questionably and he only grins and crouches closer to you both.

ೃ⁀➷ “yeah, she’s right. Good girl.” He cheeks, and you could only find hiding in burying your face in Neytiri’s lithe chest, hearing the purring motions she created while feeling Jake’s chin prop over your shoulder.

༊*·˚ Recom Quaritch

ೃ⁀➷ Picking through from Miles Quaritch’s, he has a vague idea of what’s that lipgloss you like to wear.

ೃ⁀➷ He does that raised eye brow expression when he sees you wearing it, scrutinizing the way words fall from that sweet mouth of yours.

ೃ⁀➷ His own mouth puckers out when he watches you apply it, following the slow, smooth movements your gloss creates over the surface of your lips.

ೃ⁀➷ He’s a bit confused as to why his tail is swaying too much, Lyle being the one to point it out with a smirk.

ೃ⁀➷ “looks like someone’s gotta crush, sir.😏😏”

ೃ⁀➷ “Shut it, Lyle.”

ೃ⁀➷ but it is pretty obvious, by the way he lumbers constantly over your small frame, the way his eyes scrutinize you every time you come into view.

ೃ⁀➷ because of his enhanced Na’vi senses, he can catch a strong whiff of those scented lipglosses you wear; his personal favorite is a strawberry like one — it has a much stronger spark and pigment than the others. A much stronger affect on him.

ೃ⁀➷ He knows he’s not an expert on woman but somehow, after catching the way his nose flared and tail swiveled the other day from talking to you, crouched down to meet your eye level, you seemed to wear that specific one more?

ೃ⁀➷ love LOVES the way you chew on your lower lip when he stares down at you so deeply, a playful grin across his face as he crouches down.

ೃ⁀➷ takes another whiff because why not?

ೃ⁀➷ “y’smell nice, doll. That mouth of yours,” Chin tilts down to your lips. “ ‘t’s gonna be the end of someone one day….can I test it out?”

ೃ⁀➷ you don’t even have time to answer! He just goes and pulls you in, your forearms stuff against his chest as a small squeak meets his awaiting mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ it’s a firm, toe curling type of kiss. You wouldn’t have expected it from Quaritch to be honest.

ೃ⁀➷ you don’t tell him that of course —

ೃ⁀➷ pulls back with a deep furrow between his brows, that mouth purse of his returning, in additional with your gloss pasted over.

ೃ⁀➷ “hm. Not bad, cupcake, not bad…”

ೃ⁀➷ That Cheshire Cat like smile erupts as he stares down at your flushed expression, long fingers winding around your hips.

ೃ⁀➷ “imma need another though. Just in case this someone needs feedback. That someone being me of course.” Smirks once more. “I can handle that mouth.”

ೃ⁀➷ Every meeting he has with the other recoms, with his posture all proud and straight, his face serious and leader like, you can catch glimpse of his lip gloss stained mouth — sometimes a simple shimmer, sometimes a tinge of some kind of color —

ೃ⁀➷ the others snicker at him during these meetings, Lyle only shaking his head with a grin while Quaritch remains unbothered and proceeds with the meeting as quick as he can to get back to your pretty mouth.

༊*·˚ Neteyam !

ೃ⁀➷ definitely was a bit confused as to why your lips were boldly shining.

ೃ⁀➷ He tries his best to be respectful, to not stare down at your mouth as you spoke to his siblings, having playful banters with Lo’ak, engaging in conversation with Spider and Kiri in the human outpost.

ೃ⁀➷ But it was hard to tear away his focus, especially when you didn’t have that exomask on, and gave a clear, endearing smile to Tuk — a smile that wasn’t exactly directed to him but it didn’t matter.

ೃ⁀➷ Your smiles were already breathtaking to him, yet somehow — with the way your upper lip curled to form a grin, that opalescent shine only seemed to add onto that happy expression of yours, contrasting beautifully with your rich tones.

ೃ⁀➷ He was entranced still, too caught up in it, not caring for the way Lo’ak nudged him hard to stop staring and to calm the way his tail swayed and hit him.

ೃ⁀➷ Lo’ak was sort of concerned because Neteyam was usually very well collected when it came to you — even if he knew his big brother had a crush on you.

ೃ⁀➷ It was when he let his eyes drag up and saw the way your brow arched directly at Neteyam.

ೃ⁀➷ Busted he thought, ears flitting against the sides of his head and dipped his chin down for a second, a turmoil of embarrassment within his chest.

ೃ⁀➷ When you catch his gaze, he was about to look at anything and everywhere but you. Yet once again, he was caught in a trance between the gleam of your eyes and the twinkle of your suddenly too bright, too wide smile.

ೃ⁀➷ Lo’ak and Spider got caught up in a rather standoff-ish conversation of who can climb trees better, leading them to go outside with Kiri and Tuk tailing behind them.

ೃ⁀➷ But you didn’t go, and he didn’t want to either, especially when he couldn’t stop staring.

ೃ⁀➷ He found himself crouching down, and you standing just mere inches away from him.

ೃ⁀➷ “what…what is this, lip thing you wear? Why do you wear it?”

ೃ⁀➷ you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his pointer finger rose to his lips, circling around while his head tilted at you.

ೃ⁀➷ “it’s something humans call lipgloss…I wear it because makes me feel prettier.”

ೃ⁀➷ He found himself nodding at your words, braids swaying across his shoulders and it made you grin. “Yes. You look very, very pretty— it looks very pretty— you look pretty with it—”

ೃ⁀➷ You giggle at his words but thank him, a subtle smirk curving those glossy lips, and he recognized the twinkle in your eyes, the false innocence within them.

ೃ⁀➷ “Would you like some?”

ೃ⁀➷ His nose would scrunch in confusion, head tilting at you. “Is it not only for sky people?”

ೃ⁀➷ “It can be for Na’vi too.”

ೃ⁀➷ This his tail sways even more at, intrigued to see how this substance would feel and look on him.

ೃ⁀➷ He is surprised when you walk forward, a smile of glee across your pretty features as you tilt your head up at him. Before he can get a word out, your mouth very subtly pushes against his slightly open one. It was odd, but it felt incredibly nice.

ೃ⁀➷ Flustered. So very flustered he grows with this sudden action, but he feels the stickiness across his lower lip, inhales the sweetness, accidentally tastes it and you catch the way his gold eyes spark.

ೃ⁀➷ “That…that was nice.” His nod is dumbfounded, expression dazed as he asks, “Can you do it again?”

ೃ⁀➷ You couldn't help but giggle because even in this state, he was still a gentleman.

ೃ⁀➷ Your giggles make his ears flicker once more, his braids tickling your skin. “Of course.”

ೃ⁀➷ Let’s just say his siblings then come in and find his mouth shining with your lipgloss while your swollen lips were absent from it.

ೃ⁀➷ Spider was smirking knowingly, Kiri rolling her eyes, Tuk confused to the silence, and Lo’ak’s face shocked.

ೃ⁀➷ “Bro, what the hell! You’re a girl now!”

༊*·˚ Lo’ak !

ೃ⁀➷ He thought it was food at first when he saw this weird glint on your mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ you had been eating something in the human outpost, so your mask had been discarded and it was easier to notice this.

ೃ⁀➷ “what is this…clean your mouth!”

ೃ⁀➷ you were a bit taken back, lower lip pursing out and brow raised.

ೃ⁀➷ that shine was odd to him but somehow…mesmerizing?

ೃ⁀➷ he, without thinking, reached out and dragged his rather big thumb over it, squinting at the odd texture of it.

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak, what the hell! Back up, stop that—”

ೃ⁀➷ “I am trying to clean this…ew, why is it so sticky? What have you been eating?”

ೃ⁀➷ he inspects the stickiness on his thumb, nose scrunching in distaste before he brings it close and takes a small whiff.

ೃ⁀➷ “it’s lipgloss, you moron.”

ೃ⁀➷ it surprisingly has a good smell — a citrus tinge of some kind. It leads him to poke his tongue out and drag it over the tip of his thumb

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak, no—”

ೃ⁀➷ it’s child-like, it’s freaking adorable the way he gives you a crooked grin.

ೃ⁀➷ “hey that shit’s good.”

ೃ⁀➷ he lumbers over you as he tries reaching for you to get another taste.

ೃ⁀➷“Give me more—”

ೃ⁀➷ “it’s not food, Lo’ak!”

ೃ⁀➷ “you get to have some but I can’t? That isn’t fair!”

ೃ⁀➷ he ends up falling over your tiny bed with him on you – a wheeze squeaking from your chest at his weight and the sound of your bed creaking.

ೃ⁀➷ “Shit – sorry, sorry–”

ೃ⁀➷ He hoists himself up, and he gives you that SHIT EATING GRIN once more when the breathing mask dangling around his neck hits your forehead.

ೃ⁀➷ “Ass.”

ೃ⁀➷ Your glare deceives the way your face blazes when his forearm rests right beside your head, that single beaded braid that sways across his temple ticking your scrunched up nose.

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak, get off.”

ೃ⁀➷ “Nah…”

ೃ⁀➷ A thought then occurs to you when those eyes give you the ‘triangle method’ – both your eyes, then your smirking mouth – before you act upon it.

ೃ⁀➷ “Fine, you want some? I’ll give you some–”

ೃ⁀➷ Your hands curl themselves over his shoulders and pull him down to place a solid kiss on his mouth, grinning at the way his eyes widen and how he jumps off you.

ೃ⁀➷ “Bro, what the hell is wrong with you!”

ೃ⁀➷ It’s amusing now – the sight of a tall blue alien in standing abruptly straight in your rather small room, ears and tail swaying, chest puffing, face flustered, eyes abroad, mouth fully shining from the gloss that once belonged to you.

ೃ⁀➷ “Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you didn’t like it! C’mon, now you got a better taste.”

ೃ⁀➷ Definitely tries to discreetly glide his tongue over his mouth though it’s obvious by the way his ears perk up.

ೃ⁀➷ He stares at you for a long moment, and your smug grin slowly starts to shrink as you realize what he’s about to do.

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak…what – I swear you better–”

ೃ⁀➷ Jumps on your bed, grabs a huffing and giggling you in his arms and extends his neck to kiss you again

ೃ⁀➷ “I want another !”

ೃ⁀➷ This is how the two of you officiate a relationship, and he returns home every day with his face smeared with your lipgloss and a dazed out look in his eyes.

[just-jordie-things]

[part fourteen] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4.6k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part fourteen]: “The Beginning Of The End Of All Things” ___

The next morning, Megumi and Tsumiki are delightedly surprised to find (y/n) making them breakfast when they wake up.  They’re smiling wide and both of them are hugging her while she flips pancakes over the stove.  She laughs and teases them for their affection, even though she knows just as well as they do that it’s odd for her to have stayed through the night.

“You should stay more often!” Tsumiki says through a mouthful of cat face-shaped pancake.

“Yeah, if you keep making us breakfast” Megumi agrees with a shyer smile than his sister.

(y/n) just laughs them off and refuses to make them any promises, and they notice something’s different about her today.  She’s in a better mood, dancing around as she pours batter into more shapes, including a lumpy bunny, a heart, and what was supposed to be a star, but fell apart when it came time to flip the cake over.  She’s telling them about her assignment in Brazil, hyping up the parts that weren’t so interesting and dramatizing the parts that were thrilling to be even more so.  Her smile feels genuine again, warm and comforting like they were used to.  Neither one of them knows what caused this shift in her mood, but they don’t comment on it.  They’re simply happy that things feel normal again.

Maybe even better than normal.

(y/n) even sticks around for breakfast, and spends most of her morning with them.  They talk and joke around all through breakfast, the atmosphere nothing but light and cheerful.  

Even the skies were sunny and clear of all clouds, it was as if the universe was treating them.

“Listen, I know it’s a Saturday, but I can’t stay all day,” (y/n) says while she cleans up the kitchen.  Tsumiki lets out a whine of disappointment, and Megumi remains quiet.  “I’m sorry, but I have important stuff to do back at school today”

“But it’s Saturday! School can’t happen on Saturday” Tsumiki argues, and (y/n) can’t help but chuckle at her frustration.

“You don’t think I want to go to school on a Saturday, do you?”

Tsumiki pouts, but doesn’t argue again.

“And anyways, I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.  I can even make pancakes again,” She offers, which seems to brighten the kids’ moods in the slightest.

She hesitates before continuing, her eyes fixed on rinsing plates in the sink as she speaks carefully, trying to keep her tone casual.

“Although there is an important errand I’ll have to run tomorrow,”

She tries not to think about it, even as she says it, even though she knows they’ll press for more details.

“Hopefully it won’t take long.  Then you’ll have me the rest of the day… we should do something fun” She adds the last part in hopes that it could serve as a distraction.

“What errand?” Megumi asks.

She should’ve known better.  Nothing got past this kid.

“I just have to make a quick visit,” (y/n) shrugs her shoulders loosely.  “Like I said, it shouldn't take long.  But if you guys think of something fun to do, I’ll treat you.  Think of it like an apology for me having to ditch you today”

Neither Tsumiki or Megumi ask any more questions, which (y/n) is relieved by.

She just wanted them to have an easy going morning.  And selfishly, she wanted to spend a few more good hours with them.  She didn’t want to think these could be the last, as the mere thought made her heart break.  But she also didn’t want to take any chances and leave without feeling like she’d given them good lives, even in the short time she’d spent with them.

After tidying up the house a bit and making sure they had a few things to eat for lunch and dinner, and once she was sure that they were set for the day, she quickly ran out of reasons to stall, to stick around just a little longer.

She couldn’t stay for the day, she knew she needed to get back to Jujutsu Tech to train, to prepare for what was coming tomorrow.  Still, her feet dragged as she made her way to the door.

Tsumiki and Megumi stood side by side while she stood before them, no parting words coming to mind, while they wondered why she didn’t just say goodbye.

“I’ll be at school, but you know you can still text me if you need anything, right?”

“Yeah” Tsumiki giggles, finding the question silly.  She always reached out whenever she needed help with homework, or making something to eat.

“You can call, too,” (y/n) adds as an afterthought.  

She turns to Megumi, noticing the cord around his neck that disappeared under his shirt, the stone hanging from it that was imbued with her cursed energy hidden under the blue tee shirt he wore.

Relief and despair make for a heavy feeling in her chest as she thinks about him wearing it every day.  If she survives, he’ll always have her just a snap away to protect him.  If she doesn’t… the tool’s power is rendered useless, and then who will he have?

(y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she kneels down before them, her finger pointing at the hidden necklace.

“And if you need to use that-”

“I will” Megumi cuts her off before she could finish the speech that he could probably recite for her.

Her lips curl into a smile.

“Okay you little shits I gotta get to school before I get in trouble,” She says, reaching out to pet both their heads.  “Be good, alright?”

“Bye (y/n)” Tsumiki leapt forward, throwing her arms around (y/n’s) neck before she could stand.  Despite the sudden action, (y/n’s) quick to hug her back.

When the child pulls away, (y/n) turns to Megumi.

“You gonna hug me too, you little shit?” She teases.

Megumi blushes, flustering as he looks at the ground and hooks his hands behind his back.

“I hugged you yesterday” He grumbles, and (y/n) laughs, settling for messing up his hair again, knowing that would make him more irritated than a hug, anyways.

As always, Megumi groans and swats her hand away, trying to fix his ruined hair.

“Alright, be a brat about it,” She teases before standing.  “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”

They bid her their final goodbye, and (y/n) leaves.

After closing the door she draws her curtain, and lingers for just a minute longer on the front step.  No amount of stalling felt like enough to ease the anxious skip in her heartbeat.  It already feels like she’s been here for ages, like every second dragged on for centuries.  And yet now that it was time to go, she feels that urge to stand on the porch until she feels that urge to stand on the porch until she had to be forced off of the

When she’s finally ready to step off the property, she freezes in place, her eyes landing on two figures just across the street.  Normally strangers passing by in the neighborhood didn’t make her blood run cold, but these weren’t your average strangers.

They were clad in traditional robes, which looked completely unsoiled, like they were brand new.  Judging by the way they stood, staring straight ahead at her, she had a sinking feeling of who they were, and why they were here.

I don’t have any weapons, her mind quickly jumps to what her strategy would be.  I’ll only have my cursed technique and strength to defend myself.

Before she could come up with what her plan was, her feet were moving, carrying her down the steps of the porch, and across the yard.

There are people around, she notes, glancing at a few walkers down the street, a man mowing his yard, a woman gardening.  And if things get ugly, Megumi and Tsumiki are inside.  

She’s never worried much about witnesses when it comes to acts of violence in public.  Although the truth was people weren’t usually upset to have a girl with swords around when a literal monster was haunting the area.  But this was different.  Her opinions on the Zen’in Clan aside, those two were merely men, and if she approached them with cursed energy buzzing in her fists, she was going to make a scene.  Perhaps if Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t inside she’d say fuck it and take the ill-intentioned strangers down.  She tried to push the theoretical thoughts away, instead focusing on what she needed to do right now to get these men as far away from the Fushiguro house as possible.

She’s approached them now, standing a few feet away from them as her calculated glare slowly tracks between them both.  They seemed to be young men, probably not much older than she was.

I could take them, she tells herself.

But instead she crosses her arms over her chest, and waits for them to explain themselves.  She knew she didn’t owe them shit, and if it weren’t for their location and the risk of the kids seeing, (y/n) would have knocked them on their ass by now.  So she taps her foot with impatience, and sizes them up white she waits for them to state their purpose.

The strangers in the kimonos turn their heads, sharing a look.  They remained expressionless, but she assumed both were confused by her silent approach.

“If you don’t explain why you’re stalking my kids, I’ll have no choice but to assume you mean to do them harm,” (y/n) speaks up.

Her voice is shockingly even, although low in tone.

The strangers in kimonos look back at her, seemingly intrigued by what she had to say.

“So let me make this easy for you,” She says slowly, eyes flickering between the both of them.  Her arms drop from her defensive position, one hand setting on her hip.  “Do you mean to do them harm?”

Again, the strangers share a look, but this time there’s amusement on their features.

“You know why we’ve come,” One of them, the one with his hair neatly swept into a knot on the top of his head, speaks.  “You know we’re here on behalf of the Zen’in Clan”

(y/n) holds his stare for a long moment, her features, and her entire body, unmoving.

“Yes”

Her answer is blunt, but she doesn’t have anything else to say to them.

If I kill them both now, I’ll have to leave immediately to go for the rest, she thinks to herself.  It would only be a matter of time until the rest of the clan caught wind of what happened.  And were these two really worth the trouble, anyways? THey looked to be her age, for all she knew, they were just Zen’in lackeys.

But either way, she knows what’s coming, and these two were far too close to the Fushiguro kids for her liking.  So whatever their reasoning for being here now, if they had malicious intent, she would be left with no choice but to take them out.

“So you’re also aware that you have twenty four hours to deliver the son of Fushiguro Toji to the Zen’in Clan, before we’re sent back to collect him ourselves?” The other stranger, who’s dark hair is cut much shorter than his partner’s, spoke.

Now it was his turn to be on the receiving end of her icy glare, but just like his counterpart, he appears unphased by this.

“Yes” (y/n) repeats.

It’s silent for a moment, before the first man scoffs, and speaks again.

“You’re nothing but a child yourself,” He comments.  “What business do you have staking your claim in children that aren’t yours?”

(y/n) tilts her head at him, plotting to herself for a moment, before she steps closer, enough to lower her voice to a mutter.

“Awful bold question for you to ask,” She says slowly, her brows lowering as her glare hardens.  “Horridly foolish, of you and your clan, to assume that those children aren’t mine,”

She pauses, smirking to herself before shaking her head at both men.  Despite her intent to keep things from escalating, her once cold blood was heating up under her skin, and she wasn’t sure how long she could maintain this professional act.

Oh, if she had her swords…

“You said so yourself, I have twenty four hours,” She repeats back to them.  “And it wouldn’t exactly look good for the Zen’in Clan to pull some shady trick, hm? Or do you openly kidnap children now?”

“We’re not kidnapping anybody-” The short haired man leapt forward with a snarl, only to be stopped by his partner with an arm to his chest.

(y/n) doesn’t move an inch.  Not even a flinch at the sudden movement.  She tucks her hands into her pockets, feigning indifference to the act.

Although her mind had already leapt to six different ways she could counter the potential attack.

“Let Zen’in Naobito know that I’ll be seeing him this time tomorrow then,” She states calmly, and this time she isn’t faking her relaxed state.

Both strangers’ eyes widened, shocked to be handed an order by anyone other than a member of the Zen’in Clan- much less a message for their head.  They seemed unsure as to whether or not they could agree to relay this message, but (y/n) sweetened the deal with her next words.

“You can also let him know that if I find anymore of you mindless insects creeping around here, I’ll be returning your heads to him, personally”

The men don’t seem particularly threatened by her words, but they do take them seriously, as they nod back at her in unison.

However, one of them smirks.

“If you find another one of us around here, it will be because master Zen’in has sent us for your head” He states proudly.

(y/n) tilts her head back at him, her expression unwavering as her eyes harden on him.

“I suppose I’ll look forward to it, then,” She muses, making the man frown in distaste.  “Now leave.  My message for your master is urgent, and I’d like you to treat it as such”

To her luck, they do leave the premises.  She lingers in the area for a while, just to make sure they really had slunk away, but she’d already spent too much time stalling this morning, and she couldn’t allow too much more of her day to be eaten up.

When she’s certain there’s not another malicious presence near the Fushiguro home, she takes off, the gears in her head spinning as she walks back to Jujutsu Tech.

With only one day left to prepare for her meeting with the head of the Zen’in Clan, there was too much to do.  But she didn’t make it this far, she didn’t keep secrets and tell lies and threaten one of the most prominent families in jujutsu society just to cower away now.  

Besides, after seeing how weak the two spies they’d sent her way were, she had a leap in faith in her abilities to do whatever was necessary.  She was a Semi-Grade One Sorcerer after all, and for someone her age that was no feat to laugh at.

Although, those two didn’t seem to be any older than she was.  They may have still been in training.  The Zen’in Clan didn’t make any half-assed decisions, so if they sent them, they did so for a reason.

To give her false confidence? She wondered, her pace quickening the longer she thought about it.  To instigate her into doing something stupid, so they could get rid of her, the only obstacle in the way of what they want?

The swell of pride she’d felt earlier quickly began to deflate.

Only making a few quick pit stops on her way back to the school, she still got back in record time.  However it was made clear quickly that it didn’t matter when she’d returned, because there was a very angry Shoko waiting for her at the front gates when she approached.

She should have seen this coming, but she’d been distracted by her own mind and her race to campus

The short haired sorcerer stood with her arms crossed, her white lab coat tightly wrapped in front of her uniform, and (y/n) doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a sour look on her face.

Not directed towards her, anyways.

“Where the fuck have you been!?” She shouted as soon as (y/n) was close enough to hear.

“I just got back from a trip to the convenience store,” (y/n) said, raising the plastic bag in her hands for proof.  “I left this morning-”

“Bullshit!” Shoko threw her arms at her sides, her hands in fists. “Cut the bullshit already! I know you didn’t come back last night!”

(y/n) winced, worried and embarrassed for getting caught in a lie.  Her heart leapt to her throat, and she had to swallow it back down.  She tried to come up with something better to say, but being put on the spot was no help.  All that was on her mind were the men that the Zen’in Clan had sent to her, and she didn’t have the energy to take on Shoko, too.

“I thought you were finally done with all the lies?” Shoko asks, sounding less angry and more defeated.

(y/n’s) shoulders drop in defeat.  SHe’d rather Shoko be angry with her than be disappointed.  Anger was a brief pain, like a smack to the face.  It would hurt upon impact, but then it would disintegrate into nothing.  Disappointment lingered, like a nag in your gut that something was wrong.  It clung to a person like a curse manifested by one’s own depression.  What’s worse  is the way the emotion looks on Shoko now.

“You can’t just flake in the middle of the night and not come back, okay?” Shoko’s voice is shaky, and (y/n) takes a few more steps forward.  “You can’t leave like him.  You can’t”

The mention of Suguru makes the bitter memory of his retreating form flash in (y/n’s) mind, but she shakes her head and tries to brush it off because she has to.

“It’s not like that,” (y/n) sighs, dropping her bag to close more distance between them.  “I promise, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but you have to believe me, I’m fine”

She reaches out to place a comforting hand on Shoko’s shoulder, but the girl shrugs it off, tears in her eyes as she takes a step back.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, (y/n),” She admits, taking shallow breaths.  “Why didn’t you tell Satoru the truth?”

(y/n’s) eyes dart to anywhere but Shoko’s, cursing herself for getting caught in another lie.  Was she getting worse at this? When had she become so sloppy? When had her friends paid this close attention to her?

“Why did you run away after- after what happened?” Shoko asks another question before (y/n) could come up with an answer for this one.  “That… that sucked.  We needed you, (y/n).  I needed you, and you just- you vanished.  Why-”

“If I’d stuck around any longer, I was going to go after him,” (y/n) cuts her off, her eyes meeting Shoko’s again.  “If I hadn’t left, I was going to kill him,”

Shoko’s eyes widened, and she’s finally quiet for a moment.

“And the truth, Shoko, is… is I didn’t want to do it.  I couldn’t, but I… I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself,”

(y/n) pauses for a moment, her eyes still locked on Shoko, as every word she spoke was true.

“I could have stopped him, you know,” She admits.  “Before he went on that mission where he… did what he did… we had a fight,”

Again, Shoko looks shocked by this new information, and although she wants to press for more information, her mind is processing it all too slowly for her to know what to say.

“And I ignored it,” (y/n) muttered, kicking herself as she finally processed aloud what had happened.  “I was stupid.  I thought he was going to retire, like Nanami.  I never thought he would…” She trails off, not wanting to admit the cruel truth.

“(y/n)...” Shoko mumbled, her head shaking back and forth in a small motion.  “You couldn’t have known”

“But I could have,” (y/n) said, picking up the bag she’d dropped.  “I could have listened, I should have seen the signs, they were right there,”

Shoko bit down on her lip in an effort to keep it from quivering, but the truth was she hadn’t stopped crying since Suguru had left them with his harsh parting words.  Finding that (y/n) hadn’t returned to campus in the meantime was only the cherry on top of her heartbreak.

“Don’t worry,” (y/n) spoke as she reached into her bag, shuffling around before producing a small box.  “I won’t cause you pain like this ever again.  You don’t have to worry about me anymore,”

Before Shoko could ask her what that meant, (y/n) pressed the box into her hands with a smile.

“Best friends don’t do that to each other, right?” She asked softly, still smiling.

Shoko looked down to inspect what had been given to her.  A pack of cigarettes.  

Not just any pack of cigarettes, a Russian brand that Shoko had never splurged on for herself, claiming they were too expensive just to go straight to her lungs.  (y/n) always laughed and asked what the difference was, claiming they were going to kill them one day eventually either way.  Shoko never had a decent answer.

Looking at the sleek black cardboard box now, she frowned, before turning to find her friend was already walking away, the plastic bag hanging from her wrist as her hands were tucked into her pockets.

Was this part of the apology?

Shoko wondered, puzzled as she stared at the random gift.  Her fingers traced over it’s edges carefully as she tried to mentally pick apart everything that had just happened.

But why did it feel like an apology for something that hadn’t happened yet? ___

In the last eight months of her sneaking around, (y/n) tried to recall every lie she’d had to tell, no matter how huge.  She wondered if she was able to count them all, if she could put a price on them, and value them at some unachievable goal for her to atone.

She thinks it would be like trying to race to the moon with nothing but a pair of kicks.

It doesn’t matter now, she thinks to herself as she looks down at the small paper bag of treats in her hands, tied off with a pink string that she fought the urge to tug on.  No apology will amount to anything.  And this time tomorrow, they’ll never see me again.

This thought wasn’t groundbreaking, she’d known for some time now that the end was nearing.  Still, as the notion crossed her mind now, her throat began to sting with the white hot burn of tears.

It would be the end of everything, whether she succeeded or failed tomorrow didn’t matter.  Her crimes against the Zen’in Clan had caught up to her, and the crimes she’d yet to commit would seal her fate.  If she succeeded, she would be excommunicated, labeled a defect just as Geto Suguru had been, and if she was lucky she would spend the rest of her life running.  If she failed, then she would die in vain, and everything she’d fought for, lied for, everything she’d ever done in the name of protecting Fushiguro Toji’s children, would be for nothing.  Megumi would be sold back to his rightful owners, like the valuable piece of property they deemed him to be. Tsumiki would likely be tossed aside, put in the system if she was lucky.

The end of all things was near.

This would bring the end of her time at Jujutsu Tech, she realizes.  She’d never see her own graduation.  She’d never get to know if she would be promoted to a Grade One Sorcerer.  She’d never know if she could truly master Hexing Eye.

With the thoughts of the big milestones she’d be abandoning, came the thoughts of all the little things she’d be losing, too.

Shoko, Satoru, their faces came to mind as she struggled to stop herself from clutching the bag in her hands too tight.  She would never make things right with them.  She was going to walk out of their lives without explanation.  And when word got around of the terrible things she was going to do…

She closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, willing her emotions to lay dormant, to not get the best of her in this moment.

They would never forgive her.

She was no better than Suguru.

And she had to accept that reality.

Why now did her heart try to argue with her mind? Now that she’d made her decision, why now did her heart put up a fight?

Her eyelashes are sticky when she opens her eyes, staring at the door before her with a sinking feeling.  She’d come here with a purpose, but since planting her feet at the door, she hadn’t found the strength to knock, choked up by her fear.

When this time comes tomorrow, she will be gone.  This would be the last thing she does for the people she’s going to abandon, and then she was going to disappear completely.

You have to do it now, the morbid voice in her head screams at her.  If you don’t do it now, you’ll never get another chance.

She swallows the lump in her throat, along with her pride, before she raises her fist to knock.  Again, her arm freezes on it’s own accord, and it’s as though it’s under a spell, as she couldn’t will it to just knock.  She’d been standing here for too long already, and she didn’t know how much more time she’d have.

Her teeth gnaw on her lip as she stares at the door with her mission on her mind.  She’s too focused on trying to notice the flash in the hallway beside her.

“Did you need something?”

(y/n) jumps out of her skin upon hearing the voice, swiveling on her heels to find Gojo Satoru standing beside her.  His brow furrows at her reaction, seeing as she was standing in front of his door with the clear intent of speaking to him, but he doesn’t comment on the strange behavior.

She’d been acting strange for the last few months now, he’s almost grown used to it.  Almost.  There was still a tug in his chest that longed to ask her what had brought on this change in her demeanor.

“You scared me” She finally spoke, although her words were mumbled.

Satoru tucks his hands in his pockets as his eyes study her.  While the sour part of his heart wanted to tell her to leave, the remains of the softness it once held for her spoke louder. (y/n) hadn’t spoken to him since the incident, so seeing her at his door now, clearly working up the courage to knock, has him curious.

He has a million things he wants to say, mostly questions to interrogate her with, but he keeps his mouth shut and his expression blank.  Maybe he didn’t want to turn her away, but he knows that she spent the night off campus, and the thought of where she could have been makes him sick to his stomach.  A slight grimace curls on his lip out of disgust.

Looking at her now, Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever felt so much vexation, so much contempt for her.  Until now, he didn’t think he possibly could.  He’d finally decided to drop the subject of her sneaking around, only to find out she’d been sneaking around with a Zen’in?

Sure he would have been upset by hearing the truth sooner, but it wasn’t like it was a criminal offense.  Just a stupid one.  But the secrecy of it all is what killed him, deep down.  All of the lies and the hiding, and for what?

For what? The question lingered in his mind the longer he looked at her.  She looked… weak.

Her eyelashes hung lower than usual, as if the act of keeping her eyes open was enough to exhaust her.  And judging by the dark half moons under her eyes, exhaustion had become familiar to her.  It looked as though a strong enough gust of wind could knock her down, had she lost weight?

Just as that dreaded sense of worry began to consume him, she finally broke the heavy silence that had fallen over them.

“Do you have a sec?”

Satoru’s nodding, stepping forward to slide his door open.  (y/n) watches as he swings his arm in a gesture for her to head in.  She seems to hesitate, so he sighs.

“Come on,” He gestures to his room again.  

(y/n) gnaws on her lip, still lingering at the doorway even once it had been opened for her.  She supposed she should have just left the treats at his door and cowered away when she had the chance.

With a sink of her shoulders, she steps into his room.  Satoru follows closely behind and makes sure to slide the door shut, before speaking again.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

___

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind@thealchemical@pearlstiare@niallerhere@96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie@yukinemaroop@makis-girl@sadtoru @kamikokii @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @googlesheetshoe @vzleria @hilzup @cole-silas @iam-mia9 @stxrrielle @ezrahour @whatamidoing89 @idioseasworld @yuuuumii @l0diluvs @miffysoo @chibiizzy

xoxo ~ jordie

[lustlovehart]

I love your TWST Monster AU, but I have a question regarding it (and I don't think I can find anything about this on your page, and I'm sorry if I'm asking something you already answered, but-).

Are Ortho and Grim included? I noticed no mention of Ortho in Idia's bio, and it feels a bit strange to have a version of Yuu with no Grim.

What happened to Ortho and Grim? Does Grim team up with Yuu as some kinda strange monster who wants to be a famous monster hunter? Does Ortho make an appearance?

I am very curious now, yes. (Sorry if I come across as weird. I'm just like this, lol)

Dont worry don’t worry! You don’t sound weird at all! If I’m being honest, Grim was actually originally included in the Monsters list post! And so was Crowley, but I ended up removing them from being scared about reaching the word limit (╥_╥)

Every character in twst is in the universe, some of them just aren’t a main focus or are just regular people staying on sages quarter (Remote island where Night Raven Foundation/The monster hunters reside)

If I remember Grims section before I deleted it, went something like this:

Grim [Species Unknown, Status Unknown]

…

“Grim… Is that you…?”

Really short, but the idea with him is Reader found him before working NRF, and sheltered him before Crewel could find him, as he is a monster. They essentially grew up with Grim, who’s personality is still the same as his canon counterpart, but he holds a little more fondness as the only reason he’s not alone or dead, is because of Reader.

And then the day they finally join NRF, the place Grim is usually kept, is empty.

Same thing goes for Ortho! He didn’t have a specific portion but he was offhandedly mentioned in Idias section. I don’t remember the exact description but it was something like this?

“Sometimes, when you watch Idia escort souls, with the whoosh of his cape, you can feintly see the resemblance of a small boy in his shadows, almost guiding him. If you mention it to him, you’ll have to rush over to help wipe away the heeps of tears that roll down his face.”

I really did want to add that in but I was so tired and wanted to post the piece already (¬‿¬;)

And thank you for enjoying Monster!Twst! I crated the Au last year and only started ACTUALLY working on last month, so i’m happy people still enjoy it!

[theroseredreaper]

hey hey sorry to bother you with another request

I'm having a really bad day with anxiety and so I was wondering if you could do a thing about Sebek, Vil, and Leona and helping the reader handle their anxiety/calm down when it gets too intense?

sorry to add more onto your requests and you don't have to do it if you don't want to of course. Anyway take your time and remember to take care of yourself please Mimi

It’s not a bother at all! I’m sad to hear that you’re having a bad anxiety day and I hope that this can bring you some comfort. I’m more than happy to write this for you, Ryker. And yes, I’ll remember to take care of myself too. <3

Brief Trigger Warning, as per the request: This piece includes the reader in various states of anxiety and panic, and describes the beginnings of different kinds of panic attacks.

Sebek Zigvolt, Vil Schoenheit, & Leona Kingscholar Helping An Anxious Reader

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek paused from his studying at the sudden stop of the soft scratching of your pencil on paper across from him. He took in the tense set of your shoulders with a frown, eyes searching your face, only to find you completely unfocused and staring blankly at your homework.

You were spiraling again, weren’t you?

“Human.”

He cleared his throat at your flinching, scooting closer to gently pry the pencil from your trembling fingers.

“Are you alright?” His voice was now softer, attempting to make his volume a soothing murmur. “You’ve stopped working.”

He kept his eyes on you to keep track of your reactions, reaching out to give your hand a reassuring squeeze at the shaky inhale you gave him. When you were unable to give him a further response, throat too stopped up with anxiety, he gently rubbed his thumb against your knuckles to reassure you.

“Is it your classes again?” He glances at your half finished homework, giving your hand another squeeze. “Worry not!” He attempts to offer you a smile, not in the practice of being brightly reassuring like your other friends might be. “Classes are simply another form of training! I’m quite adept at mathematics and alchemy; any help you should need, we’ll cover all your bases together!”

His smile relaxed at your subtle nod, glad to see that you were beginning to calm down. He gave your hand one more squeeze before letting go of your hand to give you back your pencil.

If it is not your classes that you are worried about,” he began, trailing off for a moment before looking back up at you to return your gaze, voice a touch unsure, “I am more than ready to lend you my aid. Whenever you need it.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Vil Schoenheit

You turned a corner, only to find that it was the exact same as the last three you had walked down. The same stained glass windows, the same carpet runner, the same vases and wainscoting in an endless maze all around you. Why hadn’t you accepted Epel’s offer to guide you through Pomefiore before he left for Spell Drive practice? Where was Rook, or even any other Pomefiore student, to ask for directions? Why had you even accepted this stupid errand from Crowley anyways?

Just as the hallway was beginning to stretch before you into an endless tunnel and your breaths were turning into short, shallow, gasps, a pair of hands gripped you by the shoulders and anchored you back to reality by the strength of them holding you close. The hands belonged to Vil, who looked down at you with a frown. His eyes searched your face, brows pinched with the severity of his concern.

“You got lost, didn’t you?”

You could only helplessly nod, light headed and unfocused. His eyes narrowed and he tsk’ed at you, stepping back so that he could wrap an arm around your back to guide you from the hallway and to his bedroom. He directed you to sit on the chaise in front of his bed as he left for a moment before he returned with a glass of cool water.

“Sip slowly,” he instructed. “And match my breathing.”

He sat beside you, placing a hand on your lower back to silently encourage you to straighten up and ease your shoulders as he began to slow his breathing for you to match. His fingers traced idle, nonsensical patterns on your back in soothing repetitive as he breathed in and out with you. He stayed beside you even after your breathing had regulated, eyes on you to ensure that you finished the glass of water.

“Have you calmed down now?” He waited for a nod, and pressed a kiss to your forehead when he received one. “Good. Now, what was this errand you were sent on?”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Leona Kingscholar

You and Leona were seated in Ramshackle’s living room, settled in for a quiet afternoon of friendly chess matches and snacks to pass the time. Or rather, the two of you were trying to do that, but were constantly interrupted by the incessant buzzing of message notifications coming from your phone. Even though your free time in between classes and all the errands Crowley had you running for him were scarce, everyone you had met and aided on campus up til now would constantly be sending you messages in search of your help with menial tasks.

After the tenth message in under a minute had your breath hitching and dropping a bishop, Leona plucked your phone from the table to silence it, exhaling a sigh through his nose. He’d often argue with you sometimes about your proclivity to help these selfish students that took from your precious free time with no regards to you, but today, before he could open his mouth to make a comment on the selflessness that grated on his nerves because it meant you were always putting others before yourself, he was stopped short by the look upon your face.

Your brows were furrowing as you bit your lip in an attempt to stave off a hot flush of tears from overcoming you, arm outstretched as if you weren’t really sure if you actually did want to take back your phone from him to answer those messages begging for your help.

Leona scowled and put the phone down, out of reach from you.

“Stop that. You’ll give yourself a headache,” he admonished, no bite to his words as he reached over and soothed the furrow between your brows with his thumb. “You gotta let yourself slow down. All this runnin’ in circles that everyone’s havin’ you do is gonna make you crash and burn. Got that?”

He waited for you to give him a nod that you at least heard what he said before he pushed aside the chess board to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you securely.

“They’ve been handlin’ everything just fine without you runnin’ around, bendin’ over backwards for ‘em. Today won’t be any different. You’ve earned some rest. So relax, yea? I’m right here with ya.”

(A/N): I hope you enjoyed and that this was able to bring you some comfort, Ryker! I apologize in advance if any of these characters felt OOC.

[redrose10]

#22 #25 and #26 with Seokjin ♡ , angst but with a happy ending !!

Ps : I hope you'll have a great day ahead 🩷

I hope this is okay!

#22 I don’t owe you an explanation

#25 I want an answer, goddammit!

#26 It was you the whole time

Warnings: Angst, mention of cheating, stalking, threats

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You stood outside your front door longer than you normally would because you knew once you walked inside an argument would ensue. You knew that your husband Jin was worked up. The text message you received earlier proved that. You knew he was angry and hurt, probably confused about all of the sneaking around you had been doing. You knew it looked bad, but you were trying to protect him. He already had so much on his shoulders and you didn’t want to add more. That’s why you never told him about the threatening messages you had been receiving.

It started three months ago. At first they were just rude messages directed at your appearance or relationship, nothing you hadn’t already heard before. Then you started getting phone calls. They’d call and not say anything just to hang up after a couple moments, but you still chose to brush it off as probably just an overly delusional fan trying to scare you away. Then the threats of violence started. You thought about mentioning it to Jin, but he was already so stressed and you didn’t want to add more so you tried blocking them instead.

It wasn’t until you started receiving candid photos of yourself that you started to really worry. They clearly weren’t paparazzi photos. They were photos of you at your job, going to the grocery store, visiting your parents. There was even one of you leaving your doctors office with a note saying they knew of your “little secret” and that they would destroy your growing family. That was the message that broke you because it wasn’t just about you or even you and Jin any more.

So you contacted his company to make them aware, but you begged them not to let Jin know. They agreed that it would be best to not let word get out so for the last several weeks they’ve been working behind the scenes to try and catch this person which included you going there and having small meetings for updates and questions leaving you to have to do lots of sneaking around.

And earlier today you got the call that they had tracked them down and arrested the person who had been making the threats. You were asked to come in for a meeting which is why you had to cancel your lunch date with Jin at the last minute, that being the last straw for him.

Taking a deep breath you finally pushed open the door and entered your apartment feeling uneasy with the silence. Normally there was music and singing and pots and pans clanking in the kitchen, but now there was nothing. Jin was calmly sitting on the couch waiting for you.

You decided to make the first move, “Look I’m sorry I had to cancel our date. Something came up that was really important.”

“What’s his name?”, Jin spat.

“What?”

Jin took a deep breath, “What. Is. His. Name?”

“Look I know it looks bad but if you just let me expla_“

“Is he the father of our unborn daughter?”

Your mouth dropped open. You knew things looked bad, but you never thought Jin would’ve went straight to accusing you of getting pregnant by some other guy.

You continued to stare at him in shock.

He slammed his fist down on the table, “I want an answer, goddammit!”

His outburst startled you. In all the years you’d been together you had never seen him raise his voice, especially not at you.

Feeling tears begin to fall you ran off to the bedroom slamming and locking the door behind you.

It didn’t take long for Jin to come knocking, “Y/N, I’m sorry that I lost my temper. You know I’d never hurt you. Please come out so we can talk about this.”

“No! I don’t owe you an explanation.”, you pouted. You knew that you really did actually kind of owe him one but at the moment you just wanted to be petty and not speak to him.

“Y/N I’m sorry I accused you of cheating. I know you’d never do that. I just panicked because all the signs pointed towards it and I was terrified. I don’t want to loose you. I really am sorry. Please tell me what’s really going on.”

When you cracked open the door you saw him sitting in the hallway with his back against the wall. His voice had been surprisingly calm given the tears falling down his cheeks. Quickly you crawled over to him allowing him to gently pull you onto his lap.

“It was you the whole time. It will always be you no matter what. I could never be with anyone else.”, you mumbled into his neck still feeling bad that you lead him to believe you were cheating.

“I know. You’re all I’ll ever need too. I’m sorry again.”

You shook your head, “I should’ve told you from the start. It’s my fault for leading us to this.”

After you explained everything that was happening Jin was pretty upset that you’d kept him in the dark, but he understood why you did it. You both agreed not to hide things from each other moving forward and to work on your communication.

Then after some playful pouting on your part and fake whining on his, Jin agreed to cook your favorite for dinner all while you kept your arms tightly wrapped around him.

[bettyfrommars]

Monster Eddie Jobs: haunted clown doll. Poltergeist. One of those paintings where the eyes follow you around. INCUBUS

haunted clown doll it is

hauntedClownDoll!Eddie x Reader

another blurb from The Nightmare Factory

Nightmare Factory Masterlist Clown!Eddie art

Another step in Eddie's journey to find the Nightmare Factory job that will entice you to want to get to know him. A lot of you darlings came through with a handful of fun, creative requests, and I'm excited to keep them going through spooky season! I will also be using others that were mentioned in this particular ask, and always happy to receive more! I stayed at the Clown Motel once and lived to tell. There really is a cemetery right next to it, no lie. wc: 1.5k

18+ONLY, mature themes, nightmares, clowns, longing

The Clown Motel in Tonopah, Nevada gave you the creeps, but all you needed was a quick bed for the night, and $65 was about all you could afford.  There was an old cemetery next to the property, and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed it was all a staged setup to add to the spooky appeal of the motel.  But, no—the headstones were all very real, dating back to the late 1800’s.

You saw him when you first came in—he was impossible to miss.  The life-sized clown doll dressed in colorful stripes with a wide mouth and round, rubber nose.  He sat in the middle of a square nook filled with clown dolls of all shapes and sizes.  Some were ceramic, some were cloth.  Some were wood, carved to look like a nutcracker.  The big clown had one hand in his lap and one hanging down his side, and his eager eyes sought you in a way that made you avert your attention until you were done checking in.  

Your room was on the second tier and you took some time to get cleaned up before calling over to the restaurant across the way to order some food.  On you way back across the street, clutching the styrofoam container in your hand, you caught a glimpse of something bright in the cemetery.

It was dusk, and you wondered if maybe it was someone visiting one of the burial sites.

But, with a muffled scream you noticed—for a split second—that it was the same clown doll from the lobby standing like a statue by one of the headstones.

It was watching you, leering at you, and it lifted its arm in a stiff wave as the wind blew back the silk of his costume.

You blinked and choked, and when you focused on the spot in the distance again—the clown was no longer there.  

Eddie materialized in the cemetery to get a better look at where you were, and then he tripped over his floppy shoes and almost impaled himself on a handmade, wooden cross.  

He cursed under his breath, wondering why he chose Haunted Clown Doll over some type of apparition so that he could be near you without making you uncomfortable.  First of all, he thought having a physical body would solve the communication problem, but of course—the clown’s face couldn’t move, and his voice came out as not much more than a mocking cackle.

Second, it was only a three day training, and most of it was just watching safety videos about how to walk in the shoes.  They also taught him to sit for a while, and then stand in the corner, and then hover near the bed when the person having the nightmare least expected it.  

They repeated a lot of the same shit at the training, and when he crossed his arms over his chest to sink back in his chair, he started to fall asleep.

He snorted awake with a start when the teacher—-a professional Nightmare Clown with a gaping maw of sharp teeth and a bright green wig—-barked his name.

“Sorry,” Eddie said groggily.  “I’m listening.”

“Is that right?” The teacher clown also had cat’s eyes for pupils and a polka dot jumper with ruffles at the wrists and blood stains across the front.  “Indulge the rest of the class and tell me what the last rule was I just went over.”

The “class” consisted of 3 unfortunate souls, including Eddie.  

Eddie could not contain the yawn that stretched his mouth, so he spoke while it was happening.  “Going under the covers,” he answered.  “When the person puts their head under the covers, they are safe, and we can’t touch them or scare them.”

“Exactly, now, how do we keep them from going under the covers?”

Eddie must’ve blanked out on that one.  “Um, we can’t?”

The teacher heaved a weary sigh, cocking their head.  “Distractions, Munson. Doors that fly open, a face in the window, whispers in their ear.”

This was all beginning to sound way above his pay grade, and he wasn’t interested in being the best student or the best employee—he just wanted to see you again.

He should’ve dematerialized before you caught a glimpse of him from across the street, but some insane part of him hoped you might recognize him—even though you’d never seen his actual form, and he was dressed like a literal clown this time.  

A car honked, jolting you from your reverie, and as you jogged the rest of the way into the parking lot, your eyes darted around, hoping to god that you would not see the clown again.

On your way to the stairs, you passed by the glass front to the lobby, and found yourself looking in to make eye contact with the clown doll again.  Its eyeballs were painted on, but somehow—you felt like they were watching you, as if someone were looking through from the other side.  Both of its hands were in its lap, now, and its shoulders were hunched; big, oversized red shoes planted on the floor; short, frizzy orange hair sticking out of a floppy sleeping cap.  

You went up and watched some lame sitcoms while you ate your dinner, and you tried to forget about the inanimate clown doll that was gnawing at your brain.

Eddie noticed how you took the time to check in on him on the way to your room, and his heart leapt.  And then, he thought he was the one dreaming when he watched you descend the stairs and return to the lobby a few hours later.

The night manager popped his head out to ask if you needed any help, but you confessed you were only there to look at the clowns.

One in particular.

You made your way over to stand at his side and covertly whispered in his ear.  “Was that you out in the cemetery today?”

Eddie’s clown hand fell from his lap to sway at his side, making you jump back, eyes widening at the coincidence.

When you found the nerve, you leaned closer, inspecting the wide, painted smile on his porcelain face, the brown of his irises.

You were so close, Eddie could smell you.  You radiated fresh lavender and coconut hand lotion and a tang of garlic from the dinner you just ate.  He watched your lips move as you whispered to yourself, something about, “where have I seen this clown before?”

Eddie couldn’t speak though, he could only chuckle, and he didn’t think it was the right time.

The body of the doll was so lifelike; you had to feel it for yourself.  With a shaky hand, you reached out to touch his shoulder—it wasn’t soft like stuffing, it was hard, like a store mannequin.  You bent down to squeeze the thigh, finding that it was made of the same solid material.

Eddie could feel everything, the way you were caressing him. On his plane of existence, he parted his lips and let his eyes roam over your face.  Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to kiss you.

You bought some souvenirs—-a shot glass and a mug for your mom—and then returned to your room for the night.

It took you a while to get to sleep, but when you finally dozed off to the point that your body jerked from an imaginary fall, clown Eddie was sitting in the chair in the corner.  The maniacal smile stretched across his face was locked in place—his eyes unblinking as they stared across the room at you.  

You rolled over with a groan, pulling the covers closer to your chin as you went.  

Eddie materialized at the side of the bed, at your back, tilting his head, wishing he could crawl in and put his arms around you.  He’d take his big, stupid shoes off first.

The next morning, you woke up refreshed, and busied yourself around the motel room getting ready for the last leg of your road trip, oblivious to the way Eddie had been standing at the foot of your bed all night.  

After your suitcase was in the car, you went to drop the key off at the front desk, and noticed the life-sized clown was no longer therr.  You went over to inspect the area: its chair between the shelves of smaller clowns was gone too.  There was not a trace of it, as if it had vanished.

“Hey, so, where did you put the huge clown that was down here?” You asked politely as you passed the man your key.

He squinted at you, a bit confused.  “Huge clown, you mean the nutcracker ones?”

“No, the really big one,” you turned to point to the area where it had been.  “It was taller than me with enormous red shoes, a really creepy smile.  It was sitting right over there when I checked in yesterday.”

The man bent forward over the desk to see where you were pointing, even though he had no idea what  you were babbling about.  

“We’ve never had a clown that size,” he assured you. “But I wish we did. It sounds like something from a nightmare.”

[prefect30]

Little Dove

Instead of Lucy Gray, he got her younger, little sister, Rosalie Jade.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Four

Chapter Warnings: MDNI/18+/Mature scene - consented.

“I’m sorry ‘bout your friend.”

Today was the first “official” mentor-tribute interview day. Conveniently, the day after Arachne’s death. So here sat Rosalie Jade, along with the other 22 tributes, at a small table, where they were hand-cuffed to the table–the Academy didn’t want any more accidents–and each mentor was sat on the other side of the table, facing their tribute.

Coriolanus had already had an idea that Rosalie Jade was not one for violence, but rather peace and serenity. His idea was proven correct when he watched her throw up the food he had gotten her after watching Arachne be murder. It was further proven when he watched her comfort the one girl, who’s name he learned was Wovey, when Arachne’s murderous tribute had been displayed for all at her services, including the rest of the–very much alive–tributes. This was most definitely going to be a problem in the arena, where Rosalie Jade would be surrounded by destruction, violence, and death. She would not be able to hold someone’s hand as their head, and inturn, hers, would be cut off. So Coriolanus made a mental note to himself to make sure to work on getting her used to the site of blood, destruction, and death. How to do that, he would figure out later.

“It’s fine, Little Dove. She was just someone I knew from my childhood.” Coriolanus waved her off, sitting down across from her.

“She was a bitch and needed to die anyway.” Was what Coriolanus wanted to add, but decided against it, knowing how sensitive and fragile his tribute was.

“She was still your friend, though. Still someone ya’ knew Coryo.” Rosalie Jade responded, putting her small finger tips that the cuffs allowed her to, and traced small comforting lines back and forth on his hand.

Coryo. God, it sounded so good, I should have made her call me that from the start. And who knew that someone from District 12 could have such soft hands? They’re like fucking clouds. Can people feel like clouds?

“I guess you’re right. It’s ju-it’s been so different without h-her here.” Coriolanus lowered his head, putting his hand into hers so she was able to put her whole tiny hand on his large one, encouraging her to rub her thumb over his knuckles. Coriolanus would milk this tit all fucking day if he could. The sensations he was feeling from her hands on his just made him feel so comforted, wanted, loved.

“It’s ok Coryo. While I can’t promise you anythin’, just know that things will get better. You just gotta have hope.” Rosalie Jade tried to move closer to him, but a Peacekeeper near them put his hand on his gun, saying not to move any closer to Coriolanus, saying that the tributes were meant to keep a controlled distance away from their mentor. Coriolanus internally groaned at that and cursed Arachne for her stupid antics that now has everyone paying the price.

“Thank you, Little Dove.” Coriolanus smiled at her.

“Anytime Coryo.” Rosalie Jade smiled back at him, squeezing his hand in return.

Coriolanus, instead of doing his job and trying to help Rosalie Jade win, Coriolanus just sat there with a smile on his face that made him look like a teenage boy in love, trying to hold Rosalie Jade’s hand as long as he could, relishing in the wonderful feeling and burst of happiness he was getting from being touched.

“Hey, ah, where were you this mornin’? Everyone else’s mentors were here, but you weren’t. Thought you might’ve forgotten me!” Rosalie Jade joked, releasing her hand from his.

Feeling cold and wanting to get her warmth back, Coriolanus grabbed her hand again, in a comforting way, “Oh, I would never forget you Little Dove. I just had to drop something off for someone at the Citadel.”

It was true, Coriolanus was running late this morning because he needed to go to the Citadel first since he needed to drop off his paper of ideas for Dr. Gaul. The same paper that Clemensia insisted that she help on, which she did not. Since Arachne’s untimely death, Clemensia has barely talked to Coriolanus about the paper, let alone anyone. She seemed to have actually cared about that obnoxious little bitch that was going to try to blackmail Coriolanus. Coriolanus, however, couldn’t give two shits. He never really liked Arachne and when she started showed signs of wanting to blackmail Coriolanus, well that was the last straw. She had to go. But the day of her death, he found himself lying awake at night, not being able to fall asleep. Maybe it was guilt about not being able to save Arachne or maybe it was that her death reminded him too much of his mother’s. It was probably the latter. So that night, Coriolanus stayed awake and wrote the whole paper, putting all of his ideas down messily then fixing it up formally on the final copy. The last two nights had gone into revising the final copy so it would be perfect for Dr. Gaul. He needed this paper to be perfect for her if he wanted any chance of helping Rosalie Jade.

“Oh, ok!” Rosalie Jade smiled, leaning back in the chair as much as it would allow her, releasing Coriolanus’ hands for the final time. “So, whatcha’ got planned for me, Mr. Snow?” Rosalie Jade teased.

“Right! So for your final interview-” Coriolanus started but then was cut off by Rosalie Jade snapping at him, “I’m not talking ‘bout the interview, Coryo. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the Games. What can I do to live?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need to focus on your interview. That is what will help you.” Corioalnus told her, getting a little frustrated, that she cut him off.

“You want to help me?” Rosalie Jade questioned him.

“Of course Little Dove.” Corioalnus answered.

“Then start thinking that I can actually win.” She said, looking him in the eyes while leaning in closer.

Well, she does have a point there. But she is just so damn small! How can she survive?! Ohh!

“You're right. I’m sorry. When we get the tour of the arena tomorrow, we will look around for somewhere for you to climb or run and hide in. That is going to be your best bet. Don’t go into the Cornucopia right away, it’s just a trap to lure you into your death. That is where most of the deaths happen. We even call it the ‘Blood Bath’ whenever we go over previous Games in class because it is always so brutal and bloody.” Coriolanus tried to give her as much information as he could without overloading her small little brain.

Rosalie Jade didn’t say anything, but rather just stared at him in awe. In a terrified awe. Coriolanus saw as her sky blue almond eyes filled with tears. Other than the Reaping, where she almost cried in front of all of Panem, Coriolanus had never seen Rosalie Jade cry before. She had always been happy, making light of her horrible situation. Now, she sat in front of him with her head in her hands, crying her pretty little eyes out.

“Hey, it’s ok. I promise. My job is to protect you and keep you safe and alive. I intend to do that.” Coriolanus said, grabbing her hand and rubbing his fingers against her knuckles this time.

“I-I’m so-ory. I didn’t want to c-cry, b-but-I…I-I don’t wanna die, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade choked out.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to be sorry, Little Dove. You’re gonna be just fine. Ok? I promise, I am going to keep you safe.” Coriolanus said, taking his handkerchief out of his breast pocket, wiping away her tears.

“Why don’t I tell you what I got you for your interview, huh?” Coriolanus said, trying to distract Rosalie Jade.

“Y-yeah.” She hiccupped.

“I got you a guitar! Remember, just like you asked.” Coriolanus said enthusiastically, trying to cheer her up just like an older brother would do for their little sister.

“Really?” Rosalie Jade said, her tears glistening in hope.

“Yup! And my cousin is even going to let you borrow a dress just for the interview so she can wash your mother’s dress. She promises that she will be very careful.”

“T-that’s nice.” Rosalie Jade said, starting to come back to her normal, fun, light hearted self.

“Yeah.” Coriolanus absentmindedly said, so happy that he was able to make her happy and smile again. But as soon as he got her somewhat to her normal self, he remembered why he was here. Why she was here.

The form.

“Hey, so I need to ask you some questions to fill out this form on you. It’s to help with your interview.” Coriolanus said, hoping that the form wouldn’t upset her again and lead her to cry once more. He didn’t think his heart could handle his Little Dove crying again, this time because of him and not the Games.

Rosalie Jade just looked up at him, drying up her final tears with his handkerchief, and nodded.

“Great. So we have your name, age, District, and you already said that you have one sibling, your sister, Lucy Gray.” Rosalie Jade just sat there, nodding along with him in awe when he remembered her sister’s name, let alone that she even had one. She didn’t think that Coriolanus was listening to her when she had randomly brought up her sister.

“So that just leaves a partner, hobbies, and skills. We can cross off partn-” Coriolanus started but was cut off with Rosalie Jade saying, “Oh! I do have a boyfriend. Quite handsome if I do say so myself.” She smiled up at him, her previous sadness seemingly gone.

What!? Who?

Coriolanus internally growled to himself. Who could this little girl possibly be dating and why?

“Yeah? And who’s that Little Dove?” Coriolanus asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his composure.

“The baker’s boy of course! Ryder Mellark, but we all call him Rye.” Rosalie Jade said matter of factly.

That’s such a stupid fucking name.

“Why do  you care, though? You jealllllllous?” Rosalie Jade teased, dragging her L.

“W-what. No-o.” Coriolanus turned red at her accusation. He just wanted to know who thought that they were good enough to have his Little Dove.

Rosalie Jade just laughed at him stumbling over his words, “Oh my gosh, relax! I’m just playin’ with ‘ya. I ain't dating no one. Lucy Gray would rather have me hung than have me date someone. Though, the baker’s son is quite cute. Rye, not Corbin, he’s already datin’ someone…”

Coriolanus just let out a sigh of release as he let Rosalie Jade rant. He would let her talk as much as she wanted if it meant that she wasn’t dating someone. But for some reason, her thinking that Rye was cute, irked him.

“What about your hobbies?” Coriolanus cut off her rant as he realized that his time with her today was dwindling down.

“Oh, well I like to sing, but you already know that. I like to dance and swim too. Ooh! Before District 4 became District Four, when we were down there, Lucy Gray taught me to swim, so now I’m an expert! I swim so much down in the lake during the summer that my hands are almost always pruned up! You would like the lake, maybe one day you’ll get to see it.” Rosalie Jade smiled sadly at him, relaxing that she would never see her lake again.

“Or maybe I might visit you after you win and you can show me.” Coriolanus lied, trying to keep her spirits up. To that, she smiled back at him, this time more cheerfully. But there was no way in hell that Coriolanus was ever going to step foot in District 12 of all places.

“So I guess I can put swimming down as one of your skills. Do you have any more?” Coriolanus asked.

“No, sorry.” Rosalie Jade said, looking down, anxiously playing with Coriolanus’ handkerchief.

“Hey, it’s ok. At least you have something.” Coriolanus calmly told her, reaching his hands out towards her, wanting to take it in his hand again, but Rosalie jade took this as him wanting his handkerchief back.

“No, it’s ok. You keep it to dry your eyes whenever you need to.” Coriolanus told her.

It most certainly is not ok. You have no other skills than swimming in a dry land arena. How that fuck is that going to help you me?

“I can’t Coryo, it’s yours.” Rosalie Jade said, continuing to push his hand back to give him his handkerchief back.

Grabbing her hands and looking her in the eyes, Coriolanus said, “It’s fine Rosie Jay, it’s yours now. I have more at home.” He didn’t have many left, but she didn’t need to know that.

She finally accepted the handkerchief, but only in shock of him calling her Rosie Jay instead of Rosalie Jade or Little Dove.

“Alright! Time to go! Mentors, go please exit from the front left door! Tributes, stay where you are until a Peacekeeper comes to move you back into the monkey exhibit.” Coriolanus heard a Peacekeeper say.

He quickly stood up and walked to Rosalie Jade’s left side, giving her a kiss on the head, “I will see you tomorrow, Little Dove. I’ll make sure to bring you food, too.”

“Thank you, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade said, kissing him on the cheek in a sisterly love way, causing Coriolanus to blush and his body to tingle. Once he said goodbye to her, he started to walk away, contently until one of his peers, Festus Creed, started to join Coriolanus on his walk to his class.

“Quite the goodbye, huh.” Festus said to Coriolanus.

“I suppose you’re right. Just trying to calm her down.” Coriolanus defended.

“Right.” Festus laughed as he started to walk away from Coriolanus.

Idiot.

God, my pants are so tight.

Coriolanus was sitting in his seat, listening to Highbottom drone on about past Games and how the mentors could use them to their advantage to get a better chance for their tribute to win. But the only thing that Coriolaus could focus on was his pants. They just felt so tight.

Maybe Tigris did something to them or I outgrew them? Fuck.

Coriolanus kept moving in his seat, trying to make himself comfortable, but to no avail. His constant moving caught the eye’s of some of his fellow students, and Highbottom’s.

“Is there a problem Mr. Snow?” Highbottom raised his left eyebrow towards Coriolanus.

“Yes, I have a question.” Coiolanus said. He couldn’t say he needed the restroom without people thinking that he was about to pee himself.

“And what might that be, Mr. Snow?” Highbottom asked, condescendingly.

“You said that Cassius Heath was the first ever victor, from Two. The next from One, and the next, Two again. It has been a pattern since the start of the Games, with the occasion of one of the lower Districts winning every few Games. I mean, there have only been two winners from lower Districts. So why is it that the higher Districts almost always seem to win?” Coriolanus asked. He had made it up as he went, but as he finished, he heard the logic behind his made-up question.

Highbottom opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He looked stumped, like he didn't think Coriolanus was actually going to ask a question. Finally figuring out an answer to giver him, Highbottom said, “Are you proposing that the higher Districts are possibly preparing kids for the Games? Cheating?”

“I wouldn’t put it behind them. They have the money too, they could train them, maybe even get some to volunteer.” Corioalnus spoke confidently, amused that he had stumped High-as-a-kite-bottom for once.

“Hmm. Stay after class, Mr. Snow. I would like to talk to you more on this idea of yours.” Highbottom said, shrugging off Coriolanus’ answer. Coriolanus knew better than to think that Highbottom was going to actually talk to him about his idea. No, he was most likely going to lecture him about disrupting his class.

“Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom. Also, may I use the restroom?” Coriolanus quickly said.

“Yes, boy, go. I don’t need you disrupting my class any longer.” Highbottom waved him off.

Or maybe he’ll lecture me in front of the whole class.

“You know, that shirt looks quite good on you, Coriolanus.”

Oh fuck off.

“Thank you, Livia.”

Coriolanus was just trying to open the door to the men's restroom when Livia Cardew came up to him, flirting. Why? Coriolanus had no idea.

“Can I help you Livia?” Coriolanus asked, just wanting to try to fix his pants.

“No,” Livia said, bluntly walking up to Coriolanus, “but maybe I can help you with something.” She said, slightly rubbing her hand on his crotch.

Coriolanus immediately turned red, “W-what are you talki-what are you doing Livia?”

“Oh, come on, Coryo. You can't act all high and mighty in front of that tribute of yours, stump Highbottom and expect me to not be turned on. I mean, have you seen yourself. You look like a fucking Greek God. And that's with your clothes on, I can only wonder what you look like with them off.” Livia mumbled the end, continuing her ministrations on Coriolanus’ hard dick.

Coriolanus was about to speak up, to correct her when she called him Coryo, only Rosalie Jade could call him that, when he realized that he could use this situation to his advantage. Livia came from a wealthy family and with what she had said about wondering about him, Coriolanus could only imagine how many times she had gotten herself off to the thought of him. He had caught her on many different occasions staring at him or more specially, his arms, hands, and pants. He had caught many other girls, but Livia was a reoccurring face. What can he say? Coriolanus Snow was a catch.

Coriolanus, composing himself, grabbed Livia's hand and brought her close to him, and in turn his dick, causing her to whimper, “Why thank you Livia, but it seems that you want help from me though, doesn't it?” Coriolanus asked cockily, smirking to himself when he moved his free hand to Livia's waistband of her pants-skirt uniform, toying with it lightly drawing a soft moan from Livia.

God, I haven't even done anything yet and she is already a pathetic whimpering, moaning mess.

Livia just nodded her head as he lightly pulled her into the bathroom by her waistband. He let go of her wrist and locked the bathroom door, he knew no one would be in the bathroom during class, it was almost an unspoken rule of not going during class as it would ruining precious learning time, but Highbottom must hate Coriolanus so much, that he didn't seem to care much about his learning time. How rude.

Coriolanus moved his hand further down into her pants, lightly rubbing his knuckles over her wet underwater, drawing a gasp from Livia.

The second he ghosted his fingers over her clit, he pulled them away, “Too bad you said you didn't need my help. But I do recall you offering your help.” Coriolanus smirked as he watched her face go from pleasurable excitement, to disappointment, and back to excitement again. He continued to smirk as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him. 

“Good girl.” Coriolanus whispered, as she slowly brought down the lower part of his uniform. He looked her in the eyes as she brought down his underwear, watching his hard dick smack his stomach. He smirked as she gasped at his size and leaned his head back as she gently took his dick in her hand, pumping him up and down.

He closed his eyes in pleasure as she went faster. He let out small grunts and groans of pleasure, but nothing that would make Livia feel praised. She didn't deserve Coriolanus Snow's praise.

She slowly brought him into her mouth, taking as much as she could while jerking off what she could fit. The unexpected warmth caused Coriolanus to buck his into her mouth, making her gag slightly.

Coriolanus, deciding that her bobbing up and down on his length wasn't fast enough, brought his right hand down to her hair, roughly grabbing some of her hair, making her go faster. Livia whimpered from his hold on her head and gagged from the sudden movement.

God. I can't believe that I am doing this. I'm letting this pathetic, little self entitled bitch suck me off during class. But she came onto me, so it's not really my fault. Besides, I was already hard, I needed something or someone to give me some release.

Coriolanus slowly started to buck his hips more into Livia's mouth, causing her gagging to become more frequent.

I still can't believe that I am doing this in school. And right after talking to Rosalie Jade. Oh, Little Dove, what am I going to do about you? There has to be some way to keep you safe, to make sure that you live. That you can go back home to your sister, to me. We could be a family. You're like my little sister. Yes. My singing, fragile, cute little sister. I would protect you just like a big brother. I would do better than your sister did. I would have never let you get Reaped. I would keep you safe, my Little Dove.

As Coriolanus was thinking fantasizing about what to do with Rosalie Jade, he continued to fuck Livia's mouth, his pace increasing giving her mouth no relent.

Maybe I could keep you in the Corso, away from all the dangers of the world. Just like a bird in a gilded cage.

With that, Coriolanus' grip on Livia's hair tightened, keeping her on his cock as he released himself inside of her throat with a loud groan.

He kept her there for a moment, enjoying the warmth she brought that reminded him of Rosalie Jade, and reluctantly let her off to breathe.

Who knew blondes could give good head? I wish her hair was more golden though, like Rosalie Jade’s.

He went into one of the stalls and grabbed some toilet paper, cleaning himself off first, then walking over to Livia–who was still trying to catch her breath–and lifted her chin up with his two fingers, cleaning up her face, focusing on her mouth. He had to seem somewhat kind after he just roughly fucked her face, otherwise she might not like Coriolanus anymore with how he treated her and then he might lose a way to get money. But the lovestruck look in her eyes as Coriolanus cleaned her up told him otherwise.

Maybe she's a masochist?

He looked her in the eyes as he spoke slowly, “You're gonna keep this between us right? Our little secret?”

Livia nodded as she moved herself onto his left shoe, humping it gently, trying to relieve some pressure. Coriolanus quickly moved his foot away, gripping his jaw harshly, “Words, Livia.”

“Yes. Our little secret.” Livia answered, blissfully, for her dreams were coming true. Well, some of them.

Coriolanus just smirked, moving towards the door, exiting with cold words, “Then maybe you should go to the nurse, get an ice pack for your head, wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious of us both going to the restroom at the same time. It would ruin our secret, now wouldn't it?”

“Y-yes! It would. I will! Bye Cory-” Livia started, but was cut off with Coriolanus slamming the door on her face.

“What a gentleman, thinking about my head.” Livia said, dreamily as she got herself ready to go to the nurse.

“And why would you think this, Mr. Snow?”

Had Coriolanus known that Highbottom was going to tell Dr. Gaul about his “question,” he would have tried to at least prepare himself a little better. Instead, he stood across from a curious Dr. Gaul and a smirking Highbottom.

Fucking bastard.

“Well, while I know that the Games are still young, it seems that there has been a victory pattern. The higher ranking Districts seem to almost always win the Games, with the occasion of a tribute from a lower ranking one” Coriolanus was trying to make himself sound as serious as possible since he was now presenting his “question” to Dr. Gaul. Had it just been Highbottom, then Coriolanus would have been looking for ways to get Rosalie Jade food by now. He wasn't going to listen to whatever the incompetent man had to say.

“Are you suggesting that there is some sort of cheating going on in the Districts, Mr. Snow?” Gaul asked, with an eyebrow raised. Had she missed something? Was that why the ratings have been going down since the seventh Games? Were the people of the Capitol getting bored of seeing the same few Districts winning?

“I think there has been some sort of training going on in certain Districts. That they are preparing their tributes for the Games,” Coriolanus started, “That they are choosing certain boys and girls before the Reaping so they have a better chance of winning. The boy tribute last year even volunteered.” Coriolanus finished.

“But why, Mr. Snow? Why would a District go through all that trouble to just win back the same person they sent to die. They don't get anything else in return.” Gaul countered, getting more intrigued by the minute.

“For the sake of being the Victor. It is the only thing that they can win back from the war other than a kid they sent to die. But they can only be the Victor for a period of time. And that's what I wrote about in the paper you assigned Clemensia and me. I think that if there was something for the Districts to win other than the person back, they would be more inclined to try to win. To play our games.” The whole time Coriolanus was saying this, Highbottom was just watching the two of them, scowling in disgust.

What is his problem? He was the one that caused this. The Games and this conversation.

Gaul just looked at him in delight. She had a feeling that Coriolanus and her were going to get along just right.

“Yes, the paper. I read it and was very impressed. Please get Clemensia and I would like to see the both of you in my office at the Citadel in exactly 10 minutes.” Gaul answered, completely ignoring everything Corilanus had said except for the paper.

Coriolanus smiled as he nodded, his eyes watching Gaul leave the room. When he went to grab his damaged and decaying satchel, he heard Highbottom speak for the first time since this conversation had started.

“You are just like your father, you know that boy?”

What?

“How did you know my father?” Coriolanus asked, confused.

Highbottom just chuckled to himself and smiled at Coriolanus, “Some things are best kept a mystery.”

Coriolanus just stared at him, perplexed. He realized that this conversation was going nowhere, so he started to leave when he was yet again stopped by hearing Highbottom's rough voice.

“Hey, good luck with that little songbird of yours. You're going to need it.”

Fuck off. 

“Thank you.” Coriolanus decided to keep his thought to himself, seeing as he didn't want to get another dermit.

“Coriolanus, know that I will do everything in my power to keep you from winning that Plinth Prize.” Highbottom said, calmly as he watched the boy continue to walk away from him, seemingly ignoring him.

“And know that I will do everything in my power to win and keep Rosalie Jade alive.” Corioanus told the man as he closed the door on him, giving Coriolanus the last word.

However, what Coriolanus didn't know was that Highbottom had been watching him during his interview with Rosalie Jade. How he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself, how he was getting closer to her. He didn't like that and feared for poor Rosalie Jade. For he was worried terrified that Coriolanus was more like his father than he originally thought. And that Rosalie Jade would suffer a similar fate to Juliet Snow, Coriolanus’ late mother.

“Could you at least give me a run down of the paper so I won't be completely clueless?” Clemensia pleaded with Coriolanus.

Had you done it with me, we wouldn't have this problem.

Coriolanus had got Clemensia just like Dr. Gaul had asked, and they were walking to the Citadel to see her. But since Clemensia had blocked herself off from what seemed to be the entire world after Arachne's death, she didn't write a single word on that paper. So Coriolanus was just informing her the basic gist of the paper and key points he wrote about.

“I can't believe you actually were able to even write anything or do anything for that matter after her death. I-I wasn't able to even sleep. I couldn't seem to do anything.” Clemensia said, looking down at her feet as they walked up the stairs to the Citadel.

“Well I couldn't sleep, that's how I was able to write it.” Coriolanus told her, not wanting to sound like a complete dick for not being sad over someone wanting to blackmail him, die.

Clemensia just hummed at him in response, keeping her head hung low as they followed someone to Dr. Gaul's office.

Maybe they were closer than I thought?

As the woman who guided them to Gaul’s office opened the door for them, Coriolanus quickly realized why the woman left them so hastily. Gaul’s office seemed to be more of a mad scientist lab rather than an office. It was covered from head to toe with odd and crazy looking animals, mutations, and in the far right corner there was a large case filled with some sort of fluid, holding what seemed to look like a human.

Its body looked mutated, its bone’s piercing through the skin, eyes bulging out of their sockets, holding onto dear life like the nerves trying to hold onto a young child’s extremely loose tooth. There were bald patches all over its body that showed signs of chemical burns, but where there was hair, feathers could be seen growing out of its body, giving it a hunched back form from the heavyweight of them. But its mouth. Oh its teeth had been melted into sharp fangs, blood stuck on the corner of its mouth. And as if there were invisible strings, it was smiling right back at Coriolanus. Looking him straight into his eyes, into his soul. As he got closer, he could see the pain and misery in its eyes. And that when he realized that it had no tongue.

It's an avox!

Bang!

“Ahh!”

Coriolanus quickly turned around at Clemensia’s shriek. She had gotten too close to one of the mutations and it had banged its head against the glass, scarning her. She hurried over to Corioanus and grabbed his arm, “I don't like this Coriolanus.”

“Neither do I.” He responded, holding her hand in an attempt to comfort her. While Coriolanus Snow wasn’t fond of many people, Clemensia Dovecote was one of the very few people Coriolanus tolerated being around, even though she had her moments.

“There you two are,” Gaul’s voice boomed. They both turned around quickly to see Gaul smiling creepily at them, “Follow me please.”

As they walked up to her, Coriolanus got a better look at some of the other mutations. The others are animals, or at some point in time, they were. There was a bird that had the body of a mauled lamb, and sharp claws like a lion. It was a bloody, disgusting mess.

“Do you like my mutts?” Gaul asked Coriolanus, catching him looking at them longer than Clemensia could stomach.

“What?” Coriolanus ask, confused.

“My mutts. Isn't it marvelous how something simple can be turned into something so beautifully dangerous?” Gial asked, dreamily.

Coriolanus simply nodded, not understanding how something so horrible looking could be seen as beautiful.

“Speaking of beautifully dangerous, I read your paper, and I must say I am very impressed by you two. Your ideas brought up good points, and gave me a new perspective of looking at the Games. How we can help the tributes, reap the rewards, and let them figure out the inner themselves. Individually, you both are good students, but together you show incredible potential.” Gaul said, smirking at them.

But right as Coriolanus and Clemensia went to thank her, she cut them both off, “You did both write this, correct?”

Shit.

Coriolanus knew that lying to someone as powerful as Dr. Gaul wouldn't go over well, so right as he went to confess, Clemensia interrupted him, “Of course we did, Dr. Gaul. Like I said on the day you assigned this paper to us both, we are partners, we always work better together.” 

No, you idiot! Don't lie to Gaul!

Coriolanus went to say something, only to yet again be interrupted by Gaul, “Wonderful. However it seems my incompetent assistant put your paper inside my new creations home,” As she said this, she pointed over to a beautiful, large, tall case, holding rainbow colored snakes, “You wouldn't mind getting it for me, would you Miss. Dovecote?” Gaul asked, tilting her head, lightly pushing her and Coriolanus towards the case and up the stairs.

Clemensia just looked at the snakes in horror, asking, “Is there a point to the color?” To this Gaul laughed, stating, “Oh there is a point there to everything my dear. For them, I found that having the victims of their bites see a rainbow of color before their death, giving them a false sense of hope, is more amusing than watching them just die.”

Clemensia just looked at the mad woman in shock, not knowing how to respond.

Because the only thing more powerful than fear is hope.

“Now, are you going to retrieve your paper or not?” Gaul asked, tilting her head amused.

Clemensia gulped, “But how is this safe. I don't want to get bit!”

“Oh, relax child. You won't get bit, it is completely safe.” Gaul told her, reaching her own hand in, letting a snake coil around her arm. So Clemensia slowly started to reach her shaking hand in.

“Oh course if they have your scent, which should not be a problem because of your paper. But, if they did not, well once might not want to stick their hand in there.” Gaul told her, and just as Coriolanus put the pieces together, he was too late, again.

“Ahhhhh!” Clemensia screamed in pain, falling backwards onto the ground with a harsh thud.

Coriolanus quickly ran to the edge of the railless staircase. “Clemmie!”

“So it was your sweaty palms who wrote the paper?” Gaul asked him, nonchalantly as Peacekeepers quickly came in and put a shot into her neck, carrying her away.

“What, yes, is she going to die?” Coripanus asked her frantically.

“Depends on how hard she fights. Now your ideas, I liked them, all of them. I have already talked to my team about incorporating the sponsor idea and how to get them food and water there, but your other ones might take more time. The betting will happen this year though and it shall be the pinnacle of this year's Games.” Gaul continued, not caring about how one of her own students just got bit by one of her own creations.

Coriolanus, still in shock from what had just happened, almost missed what she had said.

She liked them, all of them. And she is going to move forward with them, some of them this year! This Is it. This is how I help Rosie Jay!

So he answered with the only thing he could get out of his mouth, “Ok. Thank you.” Gaul just looked at him, amused. “You may go now, Mr. Snow. I wouldn't want you to be late to your next class.”

With that, he turned on his heel and started to leave rather quickly, wanting to get out of this lab from Hell. But as he reached the door he was stopped by Gaul's voice, “Coriolanus, in the future, don't ever lie to me again. It will not bring you anything good.” She said, all amusement gone.

He just nodded.

Last night had brought much stress to Coriolanus, he had to somehow find extra food that he didn’t have, and bring it to Rosalie Jade. He would worry about getting the guitar and dress to her later. But once he came home from the Academy last night and was given time to himself, the event finally sunk in. He had watched Clemensia get bit by a poisonous snake that Gaul made and let bite her. She let one of her own students get hurt and possibly die by one of her own creations, and didn’t give a flying fuck. He watched, yet again, another person he knew get hurt when he could’ve saved them. This is the second time and Coriolnaus wouldn’t let it be a third time, not with Rosalie Jade. He needed to save her because she would save him in more ways than one. 

So here he was, walking up to the zoo as he heard something lovely. 

“Down in the valley, the valley so low 

Late in the evening, hear the train blow 

The train, love, hear the train blow

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.” 

It was Rosalie Jade. 

“Go build me a mansion, build it so high 

So I can see my true love go by 

See him go by, love, see him go by 

So I can see my true love go by.” 

She was singing again. 

“Go write me a letter, send it by mail 

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail 

The Capital jail, love, the Capitol jail 

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.” 

Good girl. 

“Roses are red, violets are blue 

Birds in the heavens know I love you 

Know I love you, oh know I love you 

Birds in the heavens know I love you.” 

“You have such a beautiful voice, Little Dove.” Coriolanus told Rosalie Jade as he walked up to the cage. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Snow. You as well.” She giggled. 

Coriolanus laughed, “Thank you, Miss. Baird. My grandma’am kept me up all night practicing to make sure that I hit all of my notes.” 

“Well I think you did an awful good job.” She smiled at him. 

Awful good?

Coriolanus just smiled back at her and to her backwards way of talking. “I brought something for you.” He finally said, reaching into his satchel to give her the food. 

“Ooh, yummy.” She said, making grabby hands at him in a cute way. 

“Here you go.” He said, laughing at her childish actions. He watched as she split it into halves. Thinking it was for him, Coriolanus got ready to put his hand out to take it, but instead, Jessup came up from behind her. He crouched down to her level, whispering something into her ear, and taking the other half of the sandwich. As Coriolanus watched in shock disgust as Jessup took his food, he noticed something on the boy’s neck. A bite mark. 

He watched him walk away in confusion. 

What bit him and when? 

He looked back at Rosalie Jade, who was content eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, “What was that mark on his neck, Rosie Jay?” He asked her. 

“Hm? Oh, Jessup? Yeah, he got bit by a rat on the first night here. They put rat poison around the cage, but the rats know to not go near it. He just came over to get some food and say thanks for letting him use the handkerchief.” She told him, finishing up her sandwich. 

“Oh.” He just responded. 

She let someone else use the handkerchief I gave her?

Rosalie Jade looked up at him, sensing his disappointment, “Sorry, it’s just that I didn't really need it and it would have helped Jessup more than me at the time.” 

Didn’t need it? 

“It’s okay, Rosalie Jade. I just thought the sharing ended at the food, my bad.” Coriolanus pettily replied. She just looked up at him, feeling guilty now that she had seen Coriolanus was upset with her actions. Coriolanus, while feeling bad that she felt guilty, felt powerful that she felt guilty because she had upset him. That she felt bad because she disappointed him and he felt amazing about that.

“So what song are you going to sing for your interview?” Coriolanus asked, changing the topic, not wanting her to feel too bad. 

“Oh, I uh, have a good one picked out.” She said, looking down. 

Shit.

“I’m sure whatever you sing is going to be amazing, just like you.” He said, racing his hand through the cage to lift her chin up to him.

“You really think so?” She said, her eyes tearing up.

“Of course I do, Little Dove.” He told her, smiling softly. She smiled back.

“Alright, let's go!” A Peacekeeper said. It was time for the mentors and their tributes to see the arena for the first and only time before the Games.

“I’ll see you there, Little Dove.”

He could have her feeling bad for a little longer. She gave away his gift to her, she needed to be punished somehow.

“Enjoy the show!”

As all the tributes and mentors walked in, the phrase, “Enjoy the show!” was heard. This was because the arena used to be a circus before the Dark Days, a circus where Coriolanus would occasionally go to before the Dark days.

Coriolanus and Rosalie Jade were near the end of the line, with Lysistrata Vickers and Jessup behind them. As they walked through the dark tunnel, Rosalie Jade grabbed Coriolanus’ hand, holding onto it for comfort. He held her hand back in a tight grip. And when they reached the final entrance to the arena, where there was light and cameras, she went to let go of his hand, but he held on tighter, not wanting to let her go.

She just looked up at him as the two of them went to their own area away from the others.

 As Coriolanus was looking around the arena, trying to find places for Rosalie Jade to hide, he felt her wrap her arms around his waist, nuzzling her head into his chest, crying, “Don’t leave me die in here, Coryo. Please.”

He quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer to him, whispering sweet nothings into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. When he realized that wasn’t working, he reluctantly pulled her away from his chest, “Hey, hey. Look at me Rosalie Jade. You’re not going to die in here, ok? I promised you that I was going to  get you home and I plan on keeping that promise. I’m not going to let you di-”

BOOM!

And just like that, the world seemed to stop.

Bomb time.

During the Dark Days, whenever bombs were going off, Tigris and Coriolnaus had named it Bomb Time. And that’s what  this is. Somehow, someway, bombs had gone off in the arena. Coriolanus had gotten flung away from Rosalie Jade and had no idea where she went.

“Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, only getting screams as a response, but no her screams. He kept looking for her, trying to find her to get her out. She would not be the third.

CRASH!

“Ahh! Help!” Coriolanus yelled. He was currently getting crushed by something and that something was on fire. It was burning through his clothes, burning his skin.

“Ahhhh!” He groaned. He kept trying to move it off of him, but to no avail.

This is it. I am going to die.

Just then, he saw a flash of color.

Rosalie Jade!

She had come back to him, but there was someone trying to pull her back, away from him to safety. It was Marcus.

“He wouldn’t save you! Go, get out while you can!” He yelled to her.

Of fuck you.

But Rosalie Jade pushed him away and went to Coriolanus, trying to lift the piece of rubble off of him. He knew by herself, she wouldn’t be able to get it off, so he started to push again. And after a few good moments of pushing, they got him free. He went to reach for her, to get her out of here, but she was quickly taken by Peacekeepers.

“No! Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, but then quickly collapsed from the pain and exhaustion just as a Peacekeeper came to get him.

“Shh, look. He’s waking up.” Coriolanus heard someone say.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Sejanus and Tigris hovering around him.

Where am I?

“Hey, Coryo,” Tigris gently spoke while caressing his face, “I was so worried about you.”

Oh.

“You missed Bomb Time.” Coriolanus told her, slightly joking.

“Yeah.” She just told him, laughing lightly as a single tear rolled down her face.

“I’m ok, Tigris. I promise.” He told her, looking at Sejanus, wondering why he of all people was here.

Promise.

“R-rosalie Jade, is-is she-” He struggled to get his words out, in fear that something had happened to her, and Tigris noticed this, swiftly cutting him off with, “She’s fine, Coryo. I just dropped off the dress and guitar for her interview.”

“They are still going on with the Games? Wait, interview? How long have I been out for?” He asked, wincing as he sat up with the help of Tigris.

“You’ve been out for almost three days, Coryo. And I know, it’s ridiculous, I can’t believe that they are still continuing with the Games. Hell, Felix is laying on his deathbed right now.” Sejanus ranted.

“Was anyone else hurt?” Coroilanus asked.

“Yes, many. A handful of tributes died, as did some mentors. The Apollo twins, they, um, they died. Most everyone else just got injured. One tribute got away. Mark, I think was his-” Tigris choked out, only to be cut off by Sejanus saying, “Marcus. His name is Marcus.”

Your tribute. The one that tried to get Rosalie Jade away from me.

“Right, Marcus. Sorry.” Tigris said, apologetically to Sejanus. No one knew what was going to happen to Marcus when he was inevitably found, but when he was, they knew it would be bad.

“And now, for our last interview, please welcome Rosalie Jade Baird! Get up here you little songbird.” Coriolanus looked up at the T.V. hanging on the wall when he heard Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman's annoying voice. And that’s when he saw her, or rather, the dress.

It was meant to be a 12th birthday gift for Coriolanu’s unborn baby sister, for when Tigris found out her aunt was pregnant, she was so excited and was just learning how to sew. She had sewn dresses for each of the unborn baby’s birthdays up until 21 years. She didn’t think much about measurements back then, she just wanted to sew and show her love. But when his mother and baby sister died, the Snow’s ended up burning them for warmth or selling them for food. However, Tigris couldn’t part with the 12th one or the 1st. Both were a beautiful, white dress made out of silk and tool. The represented what the Snow name was meant to be, what it had been. Beautiful, elegant, rich, and pure.

“Hello Capital, Districts. I wrote this song for some people back where I’m from and I hope they hear it.” She said, as Coriolanus walked closer to the T.V. with the help of Tigris. She looked beautiful, like a true dove. But the second she started singing, Coriolanus finally figured it out.

“My father never talked a lot

He just took a walk around the block

'Til all his anger took a hold of him

And then he'd hit

My mother never cried a lot

She took the punches, but she never fought

'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids"

So she did.”

Watching her up there on that stage, wearing his unborn baby sister’s dress, golden wavy locks shining in the lights, making her look like an angel, he finally figured out what she reminded him of on the first day in the zoo.

“I say they're just the ones who gave me life

But I truly am my parents' child.”

She was what his baby sister was supposed to be like. She was what Coriolanus was supposed to protect from the world. She was his little sister.

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line.”

Everytime someone had told him, “Good luck with that songbird of yours” or “Your tribute,” they were right. Rosalie Jade was his tribute. His girl. His Little Dove. She was his.

“It's hard to put it into words

How the holidays will always hurt

I watch the fathers with their little girls

And wonder what I did to deserve this

How could you hurt a little kid?

I can't forget, I can't forgive you

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me.”

He had let her down, according to her song at least. He let his baby sister feel hurt, get hurt. And he was so angry at this. Why would her own family hurt her, hurt someone, something beautiful and pure?

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line

From my family line.”

He had let her down. He had let her get hurt in this horrible world, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Ever.

“Oh, all that I did to try to undo it

All of my pain and all your excuses

I was a kid but I wasn't clueless

Someone who loves you wouldn't do this

All of my past, I tried to erase it

But now I see, would I even change it?

Might share a face and share a last name, but

We are not the same.”

He heard a sniffle from his right, and looked over his shoulder to see Tigris silently crying. Then he looked around the hospital and realized that it wasn’t just Tigris who was crying. No, all of the nursing staff was. The audience on the screen was crying and that’s when he saw her donations. He was so focused on her that he didn’t even realize that her donations were way past 1,000. The singing had worked. She had gotten the hearts of the Capital, of Panem.

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered across my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line

From my family line.”

“Well, ding, ding, ding! We have reached a record high donations for the evening. See what happens when you do stuff?” Lucky joked, walking back into frame, quickly wiping his tears. Rosalie Jade wearily smiled at him, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from her cerulean, doe eyes.

“Now I don’t love your odds, but may they be ever in your favor.” Lucky told her as he pulled her into a gentle hug that Rosalie Jade visibly relaxed into. She needed a good hug and the last time she was given one, she had watched her mentor be blown away from her.

Don’t touch her.

He let her go and flicked a coin into the air, stating, “I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, the Capitol’s weathercaster and amateur magician. This was the first ever Hunger Games: Tribute Interview.” He finished, catching the coin, and then the screen went black.

“Thank you for being here. Both of you.”  Coriolanus told Tigris and Sejanus, which was answered with Tigris giving Coriolanus a light reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and Sejanus saying, “Of course, it’s what friends are for.”

Coriolanus just ignored the friend's part because he was thinking about how he needed to pay his little sister a quick visit, as well as the newly destroyed arena.

“Rosalie Jade!” Coriolanus called out, softly.

“Rosie Jay!” He called again, but for no one to come out. He went to call out again, only to see something move in the darkness in the cage.

Oh thank God.

“Coryo! Oh, you’re safe!” She whispered, quickly  coming over to him and reaching her hands through to take his. He saw how her hands had some burns on them, but they seemed to have been treated with something.

“Yes, yes I am. Here I have something for you,” He told her, keeping one of his hands in hers and the other to pull out his mother’s compact, “Here, take this for the arena. It was my mother’s. I wanted you to have it so you can have something to remember me with. It always calms me down when I have something to look at that was someone’s who loved me.”

She smiled, but shook her head, “Thank you, Coryo. But I can't, it's too fine.”

“Please, take it. I will feel better knowing that you have this on you,” He told her, but quickly realized that she wouldn’t take it because she didn't want to take it from him forever, “Think of it on loan. When you get out of that arena after winning, you can give it back to me, ok?” He told her, trying to change her decision. He just wanted something that she could remember their mother by.

“Besides, you can use it to help yourself in the arena.” He told her, subtly shifting his eyes to the rat poison that was within reach to her and her slim arms.

She looked him in the eyes and nodded, getting the hint. He continued to look at her, not wanting to leave her just yet. Not again. He had already lost his sister once, and he wasn’t going to lose her again.

“Is this real?” He asked, eyes starting to water at the thought of losing her.

She nodded her head, “Yes, Coryo. This is real.” She might have meant it in a different way than Coriolnaus, but right now, he didn’t care. 

“Listen to me. I went back into the arena and looked around. The bombs completely destroyed it, meaning you have more places to hide. There is a vent system underground that you can hide in, it’s near the back right hand side of the arena. Get there by yourself, alone. Promise me. Promise me that you will get to safety the second that bell rings.” He asked her, to which she hesitantly nodded.

He grabbed her head and kissed her forehead, whispering, “I promise that I am going to get you out of the arena alive, back to your family, safe.” Which family that was, well she didn't need to now.

She just hugged him back and they stayed like that until he had to leave.

“I'll see you soon, my Little Dove.” He told her, walking into the darkness of the night.

“Alright, everyone, smile. It’s why we have teeth!” Lucky yelled, energetically to all the mentors.

Coriolanus just sat in his chair, anxiously. He was watching as all the tributes were walking into the arena. He watched as Wovey took Rosalie Jade’s hand, comforting her. How they smiled at each other only to be ripped away from each other by Peacekeepers.

“Ok, we are going live in 10, 9, 8…” Lucky told everyone, but Coriolanus was too concentrated on Rosalie Jade, who was walking up to her spot.

“Hello. I am Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, your Capitol news weathercaster and amateur magician. And I am very pleased to tell you that I am hosting the Hunger Games for the very first time. Exciting, right! Now, cameras have been placed inside of the arena so we can get all of the action!” He said, happily talking to the camera while he flipped a coin into the air, catching it after her finished talking. He then pulled out an envelope, stating, “Here in this envelope, I have predicted the winner of this year's Hunger Games and I will reveal it after the winner is announced.”

10

9

“Oh, it's starting! Let's watch together, shall we?” He quickly said, allowing the camera to go off of him and transfer to the cameras in the arena.

6

5

Coriolanus had one and only one thought when he heard that bell ring.

3

2

1

May the 10th Annual Hunger Games begin.

RING!

Run.

Next Chapter

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Walking on Sunshine 1

Sister series to Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

Warnings: non/dubcon, antisocial behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: God The Bounty Hunter x reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hum as you enter the break room. The aroma of dark roast tickles your nose as your eyes narrow in on the kettle. You’re not much of a coffee drinker, you're one of the few in the office who enjoy the packets of hot cocoa they keep in the big glass jar. You keep a stash of your own special flavours in your desk for particularly dull days.

As you cross the room, you slip and throw out your arm to keep from landing on your butt. You set your feet straight, gripping your mug tight as you’re near-shatter experience courses through you icily. That was too close.

You look down at your feet and the small puddle of coffee there. How irresponsible. Someone spilled and didn’t even clean it up. You could’ve been really hurt. In fact, you think you pulled something.

You take careful steps and trade your mug for the roll of paper towel. You set to cleaning up the mess, sopping it up with the cheap two-ply. You take a handful of soaked paper towels and dump them in the bin. You rinse your hands and flip on the kettle, shaking off the last of your adrenaline.

You tap your fingers on the counter top as you wait for the water to boil. You take one of the cardboard stir sticks and keep the rhythm against the brim of your cup. The apple-shaped mug is one of your favourites, though a bit more teacherly than office dweller.

You tear open a packet as the kettle begins to tremble. You let out a few lyrics without thinking as the dang earworm won’t leave your head. “I used to think maybe you loved me, now baby, I’m su-u-ure…’ You’re not much of a singer and it’s terribly off key but you could dance right there.

You pour the powder into your cup and add the hot water. You switch between singing and humming the words you don’t know. The chocolatey smell tugs at your empty stomach and you lift up your mug happily, turning on your heel only to stop short.

Your lyrics almost turn to a scream as you find someone watching you. You’re embarrassed to think they witnessed your little karaoke session. You give a sheepish smile and adjust your grip on the mug handle.

“Uh, hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear… I didn’t think anyone else was around,” you eke out, swallowing a giggle at yourself.

The man just stares. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move. You’re choked by his stagnant silence. Your cheeks twitch as you fight to hold your smile in the wilting tension.

“Anyway…” your voice quakes, “it’s all yours, I’m just going to go back to my desk.”

You slowly cross the floor, watching him as his eyes follow you. There’s no expression around his alert eyes. He’s just staring. At you. Gaze following you diligently to the door. You smile a bit bigger before you dip out into the hallway.

His blue irises are stamped into your mind. Brilliant and bold. Eyes that say much more than he did.

You think you recognize him but don’t think much about it. The office is big and it feels like you see new faces every day and forget just as many. You’ve never been very good with names either.

You finally catch your breath as you get back to your cubicle. The unusual encounter flits away as you refocus on your work. You wiggle your foot and fidget in your chair, the squeaking of the old wheels drawing the agitated sighs of your neighbour. You still and glance over as a streak of colour distracts you.

That girl again. The one in the bright sweater. Her clothes are so cute. Your own style is eclectic in a different way; thrift store chic, you call it. You smile as her bubbly gait bobs a few rows down from you and she disappears back into the corporate zoo. 

You haven’t made any work friends, people just seem to tolerate you but she seems cool. You’re a bit too shy to introduce yourself as you think you have a few years on her. You don’t want to come off desperate or anything.

You exhale wistfully and make yourself go back to your emails. You really need to stop getting so easily off track. You can’t handle another poor performance review. 

You swivel back and as you go to rest your chin in your hand, you nearly yipe. Your eyes round and you sit up straight. That man! He’s watching you again. He sips from a gray mug as your lips part cluelessly. Why is he doing that?

You look over your shoulders, checking if perhaps he is looking at someone or something else. There’s nothing but a cubicle wall. You turn back and he’s gone. Huh?

You’re thinking too much. He probably just saw something else. Besides, people don’t notice you. Only when you do something wrong.

You swallow and look down at your hot chocolate. You lift it and blow over the top, tentatively sipping from the hot porcelain. Mmm, it always makes everything better. 

[highladyelenna]

Silver Flames BC

(This is my interpretation. If you don’t like it, or agree with it, that’s fine. I’m not forcing you to agree with me.)

Okay so my first note is that Azriel isn’t envious of his brothers because they have mates. He’s envious of the fact that they love freely, that they are loved. This makes complete sense for Azriel’s character. He is always “the quiet one” always “in the shadows” due to his childhood. He was never allowed to freely express his feelings. He was never loved. He probably thinks he will never be loved. It’s very understandable he’s envious of his brothers because they don’t feel the way he does. This doesn’t mean he wishes they weren’t happy. It means he wishes he was.

Elain so the one who’s dictating this whole situation. She is the one who’s moving doorways. The one who is making the moves.

If she doesn’t like Azriel, if she doesn’t want to be with him, if she wants to be with Lucien (who’s in the same house) why go to Azriel? Why not go knock on Lucien’s door? Elain is making her own decisions and I applaud her for this!

Azriel, thinking of Elain for a year. Keeping some gag gift for him to look at. To think of her. But right yes it’s only lust.

If you’ve never had an interest in someone where you share glances, small touches, and it doesn’t send your heart beating. If all those small touches, lingering gazes, didn’t build up the tension of that said relationship so much..then i guess I can see why you don’t understand this scene..and I feel sorry for you.

And can this fandom stop vilifying mural sexual attraction? ITS NORMAL. It happens. People are sexually attracted to people. PEOPLE HAVE SEX.

Elaine feeling rejected by this?? Why would she be so hurt if she only wanted sex???

I can’t add anymore pictures so I’ll add quotes.

“Rhys’ power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you about to kiss Elain in the middle of the hall where anyone could see you.” He snarled. “Including her mate.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you are persuading her he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including a blood duel.”

To those sayjng Rhys is trying to be controlling. No, he’s thinking like a leader does. If Azriel kills Lucien then the night court will lose many if not all allies they have worked so hard to gain.

Also notice how RHYS IS THE ONE TO BRING UP THE DUEL?? So many people saying Azriels fantasizing about killing Lucien when he’s literally never mentioned it before.

Azriel is also the only person so far that has mentioned out loud that Elain has no interest in Lucien. Hmmm.

Also, y’all are LYINGGG if you’ve never had a crush on someone and thought that you could treat them better than any other person. Even though Azriel never treats Lucien badly. she literally didn’t give Elain the necklace with everyone because of Lucien. He stays away from them, gives them space.

And Azriel giving away the necklace because he couldn’t bear to see it?? I think that’s more important than him giving it to Gwyn. Especially when he says “If there’s any other priestess that will appreciate it, give it to them.” So, he went to give it to Gwyn but didn’t want her to know it’s from him, then said actually just give it to anyone. Why would you want this to be a staple of your ship? Like not judging but how would that work? If she wore the necklace that he originally gifted to Elain then regifted? Think about how awful that’d make Gwyn feel.

Anyways. That’s just my little rant.

[heylittlethoughts]

14Days of MHA - Day 1 - Family

@Pikahula posted about fourteen days of My Hero Academia. As much as they have given us, it felt wrong to not participate. MHA and this fandom has given me so much. I’ve written fanfic in private for some time and this felt like a good time to post some of it for the first time. Hope you enjoy my take on the Family prompt.

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Content warning/context: Festival Day included a family event. Reader, gender neutral, Class 1-A, family/childhood trauma (emotional, narcissist abuse, CPTSD). Found family fluff, Katsuki x Reader fluff. Word count: 1.8k

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Class 1-A made their way to the courtyard for their turns to meet up with their family members. You followed along quietly lost in a world of thoughts.

You understood why the school decided to add the family event. It was jarring for some students to be away from family. A part of you was worried that yours would show up today though, just to berate you yet again for picking a life they didn’t agree with. They signed off on the dorms more as way to get you out of their life than in acceptance of your choice to be a hero. Whatever their motive, you were excited to have a layer of protection from your family trying to antagonize you daily.

Mina interrupted your thoughts with a bubbly bump into your shoulder “Hey, are you excited?!”

“Oh, yeah for sure” you forced a cheerful smile.

“Raccoon eyes, what are you doing bumping into people?” Katsuki barked at her.

“I’m just excited.” she spun around in a circle while walking. “I haven’t seen them since…” You tuned out the conversation as you caught Katsuki’s gaze giving him an appreciative smile.

When families came up in conversation you brushed it off, kept things vague, or found some excuse to leave the conversation. It’s not like you remembered much of your childhood to have anything to tell. Therapist said that was the CPTSD trying to protect you, the build up of painful little moment after little moment over the years.

The only person who knew anything was Katsuki. Because of course he was observant of that too. One night studying at his house, he noticed you getting sad watching him interact with his parents, pressing it until you explained your situation. You don’t know if he fully understood being low or no contact with family. Even so, he helped take the attention off you when it came up in group conversations after that.

You found a bench on the edge of the courtyard and leaned back on your hands as you sat down. Seeing everyone smile and hug their families made you smile. Everyone was so happy, some of them crying with joy, others laughing, some bubbly excitement at catching up with family in person.

It all was almost enough to make you get up and join. Some of the groups were mingling together, it’s not like anyone would turn you away. As you started to shift to stand, you stopped yourself. This event isn’t for you. Let them all have their time with their families. Don’t be a burden, you thought.

That familiar wave of sadness, loneliness, anxiety, whatever it was, it washed over you. You threw your head back to look up at the sky. Blinking to the adjustment of light, or to blink away the tears that pricked at your eyes.

A woman’s voice forced your head to whip back forward. “Hi there.” It was Mitsuki.

“Hello.” You said as you sat up straight on the bench. You hadn’t notice how sprawled out your arms where. “Sorry, did you want to sit down?” you offered nervously. Had she seen me tearing up?

“Thank you, could use the break from all that commotion.” She laughed lightly as her hand motioned back towards Katsuki barking at Kaminari, while Masaru was apologizing to Kaminari’s family.

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped and the genuine smile that crossed your face. For whatever reason Katsuki did that to you. Him just existing was like a bright star in the dark sky always leading you back to where you should be.

Mitsuki caught you watching her son. “That boy of ours is such a handful” she had the tone of years of exhaustion from raising him. It was the layer of love and admiration mixed in, that caught you off guard.

That was the difference, you thought. Your family would say you were exhausting but meant it to hurt, that they would have preferred not to have you, that you were a burden. Mitsuki loved her son through it all, his attitude, his explosive energy, she loved him. What does it feels like to have a family that actually loves you, you let your mind wonder before cutting the thought off and steadying your mind back to the conversation.

“He’s not all that bad.” you smiled “It’s just how he communicates.” You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you looked at Katsuki, now laughing with the group. He had the most amazing smile.

Before either of you could say anything else, you saw Katsuki notice you and his face change. Something of surprise, annoyance maybe, or was he flustered it was you talking to his mother. “Hey Hag, what are you doing bothering people?” He yelled.

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki stood with authority. “Could you behave yourself for once?” she yelled back at him. She turned back to you, “I’m so sorry for him.” she said with a sweet apologetic smile.

“None needed” you smiled as you laughed. You’d seen them interact before and knew he was nothing but bark towards her. You found it cute how they yelled and argued with each other, knowing it wasn’t from any place of anger or actual resentment, it was endearing.

As they continued to bicker from across the courtyard, your smile and laughter faded. You couldn’t stop the waves of emotions crashing into you. Your face slipped into your thoughts. I was so behaved, and yet they never treated me with such love. Why? What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I good enough? Why couldn’t they just love me?

Even from his distance across the courtyard, Katsuki noticed your face drop. “YN, you good?” he called over, calmer, concerned. Their fighting put on pause as Mitsuki turned to look at you as well with that same concern across her face.

Tears were pooled at the rim of your eyes. “Huh?” you said as you blinked and they streamed down your cheeks, tuning you into why they were you looking at you with such concern. No, no, don’t be a burden.

You shook your head and brushed your eyes with the back of your hands. “I’m fine.” you called out, you didn’t even believe yourself. “I don’t know what happened” you steadied yourself a bit more. “Must have been a bug or something in my eye. I’ll be right back” you were already standing and a step towards the direction of the bathrooms before all the words were out.

“Dear.” Mitsuki said almost a whisper. She took the stride towards you and wrapped you in a tight hug.

What was happening? The mix of intrusive thoughts and the warmth of a genuine hug were pulling you at opposite ends. “I’m ok-ay” your voice breaking from the now full crying that was happening.

She gently shushed you as she pulled you in tighter. “It’s okay if this is hard.” How does she- Did Katsuki tell her?

“You’ve done so much for my son, please let me be here for you.” she pulled you back to arms length to look in your eyes. Her voice sterned, she made sure you were listening before saying “Family doesn’t have to blood. It’s who you want it to be. You are not robbed of new love because of any lack of it in the past.”

Your chin trembled as you held back sodding, tears escaping down your cheeks. She pulled you back into a hug. Maybe so you don’t embarrass her, crying out in the open like this. your sinical thought intruding. You forced it away. Maybe because this is how real parents comfort their kids. You thought to yourself in a softer voice. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled yourself into the embrace.

She continued “We will be here for you, anytime you need it.”

You let yourself sob, muffled into her.

She continued “You are important to my son, so you are important to me. More than that, you are amazing on your own. You don’t deserve to feel so alone, my dear.” You could feel her head shift looking back to everyone in the courtyard. “You have so many people here who are your family. I know any of them will let you lean on them when you need it. Okay?”

You nodded against her as your breath steadied. You weren’t sure if you fully believed her. You knew everyone here was your friend, but you never wanted to burden someone else with your mess of trauma. Would they still truly want to be there for you if they knew how much of a mess you actually were?

Your thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Katsuki barking from somewhere next to you. “What are you doing hag? Trying to suffocate them?”

You felt yourself move before you realized where you were going. Mitsuki had turned and softly pushed you into Katsuki’s arms. He hesitantly held you not sure what was happening.

“Katsuki, Stop yelling.” Mitsuki said as she hit the top of his hand passing by him back to Masaru in the courtyard. You saw her turn and smile sweetly towards you. Almost a giving permission or maybe giving the mom order of let it happen, let us love you.

Katsuki’s energy shifted, concerned, feeling the tension in your body and the jagged breaths from your crying. You were still sniffling as you regained composure. “Family shit get to you?” he said in a soft grumble as he hugged you with more intention.

“Yeah” you said softly curling into his chest. He was warm and smelled sweet. Something about him always calmed your nerves. Taking a deep breath, “I’m such a mess. I was trying so hard to not let it ruin anyone’s day.”

“Fuck that!” he barked above you. Taken aback, you looked up towards him. That cocky smile across his face. “You’re amazing. The only way you’re ruining anyone’s day is by sulking over here by yourself.” he said with confidence and a hint of pink crossing his face.

A soft smile settled on your face as you leaned into him. “Thank you” you mumbled sweetly into him. You could just barely see the pink turn a shade darker.

“Come on already.” he said turning away from you while grabbing you hand. “Let’s go back to the idiots.” This version of him was one of your favorites. He was softer, gentle even. He made you feel safe and important.

As you walked back to the groups of friends and their families, their bright faces washing away any anxiety you might have had joining in on their fun. You smiled and laughed and thought, maybe it was true. That it’s okay to be loved. It’s okay to make a new family.

That even though it was chance that you all were in the same class, that this was your family and you are forever grateful for them all.

[leviathans-watching]

Hey! So kind of a sad request, you can ignore this if you want.😅So, I don't have anywhere to go for the holidays this year... I dont really have family that I can spend it with, and my onofficially adoptive family didn't invite me to Thanksgiving or anything, and i doubt theyll invite me to Christmas... so yeah. So I just was hoping to request how the OM! Boys would react to that? Like- if Diavolo was planning to send Mc back up to the human world so they could spend the holidays with family- but Mc is too embarrassed to say anything- or something like that. But when they're asked what they're doing for the holidays back in the human world- they kind of reveal that they don't have anywhere to go. I'm just stuck thinking about how the boys would react to that. Tysm! Happy holidays!

nowhere to go for the holidays

includes: the brothers &/x gn!reader (they/them pronouns used)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list

warnings: mentions of bad family dynamics/relationships, implied crying, explicit language

a/n: i'm really sorry you're going through that, hopefully you can still manage to get together with some friends or something. i hope you like this. my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come talk w me!!

“it’s so cool that you can go up the human realm to spend time with your family for christmas,” levi says, blissfully unaware of the effect his words are having on you. “i think the holidays should always be spent with the people you love.”

“yeah,” you say, kind of mutely. when diavolo had not only offered, but practically forced you to leave for the holidays in an attempt to let you be with your family, you’d only felt dread. you haven’t spent the holidays with your loved ones in a long time and you had hoped this year would be different. however, you didn’t really want to intrude on the brothers or the angels, and explaining your complicated home life wasn’t something you were super keen on doing either.

“what are we doing this year?” mammon asks from the couch, directing the question toward lucifer.

“i believe we’re volunteering at the soup kitchen this year, then going to lord diavolo’s for a meal like we do every year.”

“i wish mc could do it with us,” asmo whines, and your heart warms.

“hey, mc should spend time with their loved ones too,” satan reprimands, and you swallow.

“i wish i could spend time with you guys.”

“what are you doing?” belphie asks.

“and what kind of food will you be eating?” beel adds.

everyone looks to you, and you freeze like a deer in headlights. the silence stretches.

“mc?” satan prompts, and you look down.

“um, i’m not sure,” you say carefully.

“you don’t have any traditions or anything?” mammon asks. damn them for being so nosy!

“not really.”

“none? at all?” lucifer asks, and you snap.

“look, i don’t really want to talk about it, okay?”

silence falls over the room for a long moment.

“mc,” belphie begins, “you, uh, don’t seem super excited to go see your family.”

“belphie!” satan hisses.

“no, he’s right,” you say. “and that’s because i’m not going to. i don’t spend the holidays with them. haven't in a long time.”

“seriously? why didn’t you say anything?” mammon asks, and you grimace.

“i didn’t want to make you guys pity me. it’s embarrassing.”

“that’s dumb!” levi argues. “we wouldn’t pity you! you should just stay with us!”

“see!” you exclaim, semi-irrationally. “you just invited me out of pity! and i didn’t want that to happen, didn’t want to intrude on your holidays.”

“mc.” lucifer’s voice is commanding, authoritative. “don’t even insinuate you’re a burden to us. we want you to be here with us. none of us wanted you to go up to the human realm, we just obviously weren’t going to say that to your face and make you feel bad about spending time with your family. to say otherwise is insulting.”

“i’m sorry.” your clench your hands into fists.

“it’s okay,” asmo soothes. “we’re sorry too, that we’ve been talking about this, so unaware of your feelings on the matter. but please, stay down here with us. we always have more fun when you’re around anyway.”

“are you sure?” you ask, looking around the room, and everyone nods.

“absolutely sure,” lucifer says.

“when i said holidays are to be spent with your loved ones,” levi says, “i meant you too.”

“yeah,” beel nods. “we love you, mc. and while i’m sorry you’re unable to be with your family, we’d be honored if you could be with us.”

“i love you guys too,” you say, blinking rapidly. “i’m sorry i wasn’t honest.”

asmo leans over, wrapping you into a hug. “you don’t have to be honest about stuff like that, not if you don’t want to. it’s personal. but know that when stuff like this comes up, we’ll do everything in our power to help out, to make you feel better.”

“thank you,” you say, throat thick. in an instant, you’re wrapped in an almost-stuffy group hug, surrounded by those who truly love and care for you, and those you truly love and care for right back.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[c0ld0utside]

Hi💜💜💜

Firstly I just wanted to say that I loved your writing, it's very good and I loved the story you wrote about the human father and the monster son, I would like part 2 of this story if it wasn't too much trouble (of course only if you want to do it)

What’s this, a part 2?

Yeah, it’s a part two. 

Joey and Tim back at it again.

Warnings (Let me know if I need to add any): Mention of force-feeding, mention of bondage, mention of “Joey”!Reader’s horns are filed down, mention of “Joey”!Reader getting muzzled, infantilization(?)

It’s been a few months since you were adopted by Tim, and the first few weeks with him were rough, to say the least. Any chance you got, you’d either bite, headbutt, and scratch him, or you’d make a break for it. This led to him having to file your horns down after one of them nicked his cheek and putting a muzzle on you after you bit him so hard he had to get stitches. Tim wasn’t happy about it at all.

He wasn’t happy about having to force-feed you, either. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t eat the meals he made you. Tim made sure to include everything since he didn’t know what your species ate. Meats, seafood, dairy, grains, greens, fruits…you either wouldn’t eat it or would find a way to cough it up. Tim had to settle on making you drink smoothies and protein shakes.

“I hate doing this to you. You’re not an animal, sweetness. Stop making me treat you like one.” He’d say, rubbing your head gently as he tried to help you fall asleep. It would’ve been nice had your arms and legs not been tied together with rope. “Anyone else would treat you like one, but I don’t. I know you’re sentient enough. You’re not a dog. Just work with me, okay?”

“I’m doing so much for you, you have no idea. Can you even fully understand me? Probably not. I wonder what that’s like- well, I kind of can. It’s been a while though.”

Begrudgingly, you did. You stopped lashing out and let him feed you food that wasn’t put through the blender. You pay attention when he reads you stories and shows you those silly things on his “phone.” Tim called them “educational videos,” leaving out the fact that they were targeted at pre-schoolers and elementary school kids. You fight the urge to run whenever he has you trace the cursive prints in the writing workbooks he bought.

Tim is especially understanding whenever you voice your hatred for math with hisses and growls during the middle of a problem. It was easy at first- adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing…and then fractions and decimals came in. Once you got the hang of reading and writing, Tim enrolled you in online classes. “Remember to put on those contacts I got you,”  He’ll say at least ten minutes before your first class starts.

Unlucky for you, Tim works from home as a translator, so that means no escape attempts during the day. He changed up the lock to your bedroom so it locks from the outside and nailed your window shut. “I’m really sorry sweetness, I don’t trust you entirely just yet.” Tim had explained. “It’s fair, right? You don’t completely trust me, and I don’t completely trust you to not run away.”

Today’s different. Much to his surprise, you’ve curled up into his side, watching as he translates a book into French. Tim’s surprise melts into pure joy. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he works. 

“What’d you learn today?” Tim asks, gaze shifting back to his laptop screen. “How genes work,” You reply simply. “It made me wonder who my sire is. I take after them more.” 

Tim hums in reply. “You’re a funky little guy, I’ll give you that.” He says, gently scratching your head, fingers running through your…mane? Hair? He doesn’t know what to call it. “Does your species have a name?” Tim asks, sounding genuinely curious. You shake your head.

“My parent never told me much about my “species.” We just are, I guess. That and to stay away from others because they’ll try to kill me.” You say.

“Like bears?” Tim assumes. You can only shrug. “Probably. How do bears behave?” He shuts his laptop. “Alrighty, documentary time,” Tim says, getting up to put his laptop away. 

“What about your job?” You ask, sitting up on the couch. “No need to worry. I’m almost done and I could use a break, anyway.” He answers dismissively, plugging the device in to charge on the counter. Walking back over to you, Tim grabs the TV remote off the coffee table and turns it on. Opening up some streaming service, he turns on a nature documentary and sits down next to you.

“Isn’t this nice?” Tim asks. “Sure,” you offer, reaching up to feel your horns. They’re coming back in, slowly but surely. Tim promised that he wouldn’t file them down again unless you tried to hurt him again. Which is fair. He takes notice of your movements, expression turning apologetic. 

On the TV, the narrator observes a herd of zebras. “...Is it still a firm no?” You pipe up. Tim lets you have online friendships with the other kids in your classes, but won’t let you see them in person. “On meeting up with Shay and Lucas?” 

Tim sighs. “Sweetness, you know it’s dangerous. Other humans aren’t accepting like I am, and I don’t want you to be taken away and prodded at by scientists. You’re a person, not an-” “-Animal. I know.” You cut him off irritatedly. 

“Hey,” He says, tone softening. “...How about this. You can meet up with them, but I come with you. Deal?” 

“Is that the only option I have?” You ask. “Mhm,” Tim hums.

“Fine. Deal.”

-

I'm taking advantage of my break to catch up on asks instead of writing an essay. No regrets. As always, criticism is welcome.

May I just say, you're looking divine today. Have you ever had a fruit bowl before? You should try it.

[osakiharu]

AND I DON’T KNOW IF I’LL EVER SEE YOU AGAIN !!

— saying goodbye to those certain people at school/college that you’ll probably never see again </3 (yes i wrote this because i finished college and this is how i felt about leaving some people and i’m sensitive)

content : gender neutral reader, i dont think this is angst so i have no idea what it is, its : :((, thats the genre y'all, me using a couple personal experiences to add in some accuracy

characters : mikey, kazutora, senju

notes : hey guys !! i finally finished my exams and college meaning i’m now on summer break and i finally have time to write ! thank you so much for sticking with me throughout this academic year esp since i was struggling a lot </3 i luv all of y’all so so so much and i hope y’all enjoy this EVEN THOUGH IM LOWKEY RUSTY ASF RN JUST TRUST THE PROCESS Y’ALL MY WRITING MAGIC WILL COME BACK SOON </3

˗ˏˋ MIKEY

- mikey is thee iconic class crush that everyone has (unless you’re not into mikey then that’s too bad you gotta change the character i’m sorry 😔)

- the type of person you’re friends with and is in all your classes, but you get a little rush of excitement when you see them

- the type of person you talk to like you’ve known them for years face to face, but wouldn’t dare ask to meet up with you and you can’t message them for shit because you think too much about your responses

- the type of person who somehow makes your ears burn but you can’t put your finger on why or how they do that

- you and mikey were always class friends - even teachers knew you guys as class friends and would hate when you sat with each other, knowing very well no work would get done

- he would always find a way to talk to you when you walked past him, to make a joke to you, possibly bully you a little (all with a kind heart and no malice of course) - and you always found a way to do it back which he loved <3

- you cherished him as a friend for some reason - out of all your class friends (not including closer friends that is) he felt special to you, and you could never and will never know why

- and so when the end of your time at school/college was getting closer you started to cherish your little interactions with him and got more and more excited to see him everyday :( - the way you guys interacted never changed, you just held it closer to you and appreciated it more

- on your last day you didn’t see him until the end of the day - he probably didn’t bother coming in early since it was the last day and he’s lazy 😒

- he approached you quickly with a little spring in his step, smiling widely at you like he always did (he was always happy to see you, you just never really realised) — you were very much prepared for a usual interaction; a little small talk, a clever joke of his, a laugh, and departure

- oh. a hug 🎉 — you literally could’ve cried. and don’t say no. yes you could’ve okay.

- “don’t get soppy on me now, y/n, hm? it’s not the end of the world, is it?” — TO YOU ☹️

- even though you wished he did, he didn’t spend any extra time with you, simply walking away with a goodbye and back to his friends — however he did message you when he got home <3

hey i just wanted to say i enjoyed being friends this year :)

in case i never see you again remember me by this <3

i’ll miss you, make sure you look after yourself !

- it was a video of a cat eating dorayaki and purring ?? makes sense 🫶 - although you were more surprised at the concept of a cat actually eating something like that

- though you appreciated and loved his messages, and responded with the same amount of appreciation, you kinda wish he hadn’t messaged you with his own little goodbye — although it wasn’t like losing a lifelong best friend it still left a little hole in the pit of your stomach, knowing you’d miss him, knowing you’d still talk about him with your friends sometimes

- probably wondering if he actually liked you as much as you liked him, wondering if you were simply just a person in his class or more of a friend ?

- you hope one day he’ll ask you to meet up and your friendship can be strengthened in the future but its unlikely to happen :/ - mainly because you’re probably not about to make the first move YEAH

˗ˏˋ KAZUTORA

- in your final year of school/college you ended up being together for a class - you could say he was kinda like your study buddy in the end 🤷‍♀️

-one day he saw you in the library and he asked if you could help him study for the upcoming test since he was struggling with the topic and he wanted to do well this time — lets be real, we all know kazutora would not take classes seriously 😭

- eventually it became a common thing for the both of you to do; meet in the library and go over the things he wanted to do (and it was convenient for you because it meant you could also simultaneously go over the difficult things too 🫶)

- you guys had a spot mikey called the ‘secret spot’ because it was hidden at the back behind a couple bookshelves — despite always being late to classes he was usually on time to your meet-ups

- he always greeted you by saying “hey, teach!” with only a pen and a scrap piece of paper

- as much as you liked seeing kazutora and becoming friends with him, studying with him was very hard sometimes — you could tell he was trying hard but he would kinda just stare and nod his head rather than listen because he would zone out

- once you guys finished studying, he’d simply ask you when you were able to meet next and would say his goodbye’s and thank you’s — sometimes you wanted to ask if he felt like meeting up outside of college or at least studying at your house since you guys got on so well, but you never did

- and he would make out of pocket jokes (they made you giggle but he doesn’t have to know that) — “is there anythin’ else i can do to get an A, professor? 🥺” boy 🤨

- you guys never ate lunch together or spoke to each other outside of lessons - it was almost like as soon as you guys left the classroom or library you didn’t know each other :(

- you had his socials and sometimes you’d receive messages at 12am about a theory he couldn’t understand 😭 — they always made you smile though and sometimes you guys even had little convos (mostly small talk though ugh)

- once you guys face timed 😟 — he thought you looked so pretty under the light of your desk lap and it made him kinda nervy so he was quieter than usual </3

- when exam season came around y’all were stressing over exams together like. the poor boy was SCARED — however, before each exam he would always come up to you when you were with your friends to ask how you were <3

- “i don’t know why you’re stressed, you’re the teacher here, sweets.”

- although you were excited for all the exams and college/school to end, you were also kinda dreading it — you knew the fact that you and kazutora wouldn’t have another study session again left a little ache in your chest

- when the final day arrived you thought he’d neglected to show up since you hadn’t seen him all day :((

- when the exam finished, however, he showed up out of nowhere asking how it went :0 - you guys had a long talk about the exam and how you guys hated whichever questions

- “well, i gotta get going now, my friend is giving me a ride home and i don’t wanna make him wait too much, i’m really sorry!” oh ☹️

- there it was. the feeling that came over you told you you’d probably never see him again, possibly never speak to him again except for some small talk at 11pm when he saw a funny post and decided to send it to you. the knowledge that you were losing a friend that you’d cherished your limited time with over the stressful year </3

- “yeah, it’s fine, don’t worry about it!” idiot.

- “i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

- you just nodded, despite there no longer being a tomorrow :(

- BOOOOOOOO

˗ˏˋ SENJU

- she was your friend in all of your classes <3

- literally since the first day of school/college she decided that you guys were gonna be friends

- every time you come into a lesson she’s always sat in the seat next to yours, and if she’s late she always looks for you with a bright smile on her face — even if other people changed seats in the class, you guys always stayed in the exact same seats next to each other

- “do you wanna do it together?” — y’all always worked on projects or class work together, especially presentations since senju said it just turned out better if you guys did it together

- y’all would also always panic together over presenting posters or presentations to the class and then talk about how good you did afterwards

- you guys always laughed together in classes and giggled at dumb jokes </3

- she would always make you walk with her to exams too — it’s not like she was ever panicking or worried, she just wanted to walk with you into the exam and talk about it after

- and once she bought you candy for your birthday even though you don’t remember telling her your birthday 😭 - “i got you these, i don’t know if you like them but you can try them!” me personally i’d cry

- also !! you guys would also talk outside of classes yay !! — on messages that is

- often she would message you about work, whether that was asking when homework was due in etc etc — but you guys would also message each other if you found out any gossip about people in your classes 😭😭😭

senju : babe, y’know that girl we were talking about the other day?? i found her boyfriend on tinder 😟

you : there’s no way… they’ve literally been dating for almost a year, his account should be deleted by now ?!

senju : wait what ?! how did you find out it’s been that long ☠️

you : oh i looked on her instagram yesterday lmao

- but 😁

- you guys just… didn’t talk to each other outside of class in person ??

- as soon as the class was over y’all didn’t really talk to each other, you never ate lunch together, you never studied together etc — you guys also never made plans or spoke to each other over summer breaks ?

- like y’all basically didn’t speak to each other for three months but when you came back after it was like no time had passed

- when the day of your final exam came around you guys walked to the room as usual, talking about what you did or didn’t want to come up

- before she went into the room she hugged you. you guys never hug. — “you’ll be fine, babe, you got this.” sobbing.

- when you came out of the exam she was gone as usual — it was rare for you guys to wait for each other at the end of lessons or exams anyways

- but that time you felt a little wave of sadness wash over you, perhaps a little ache in your chest as you realised that was probably the last time you’d ever walk down a corridor with her, to stress over something together, hear her little pep talks before doing exams, to do anything with her

- you took her hug as a goodbye </3 (for a while it seemed to leave a little hollow feeling in your chest when you thought of her) though it didn’t feel complete without hearing her say it

- sobbing tbh

reblogs appreciated <3