#tw discussions about fainting

[monthofsick]

Day 2 - Can't Stop Puking

fandom - SHINee

characters - OT5

sickee - Taemin

summary - Taemin gets a stomach bug

warnings : vomit, jokes about overeating, stomach ache, talk and symptoms of fainting, hospital mention

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53102917/chapters/135368110

(I hope this works as a way to submit, since I don't want to submit with my main account)

warnings : vomit, jokes about overeating, stomach ache, talk and symptoms of fainting, hospital mention, real person fiction

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53102917/chapters/135368110

This definitely works as a way to submit!

[aphroditelovesu]

Heyaaaa, how are you, babe? Can we have a Yan!Platonic Nico di Angelo and Yan!Platonic!Percy Jackson with a daughter of Poseidon ‘reader’ (aka Ayane Ishikawa my OC XD), pretty please? They discussing who would be the best big bro to Ayane lol 🥺🥺

❝ 💀 — lady l: hii, babe! I hope you like it. It's a little short and very soft yandere, but it's more focused on their relationship, which, by the way, I'd love to hear you describe! 👀

❝tw: none, i think? just fluff and very soft yandere.

❝🌊pairing: platonic yandere!nico di angelo, platonic yandere!percy jackson x daughter of poseidon!reader.

❝word count: 850.

You loved your brothers. You really did. Percy was always protective and the comical relief you needed sometimes and Nico was sweet and protective of you too, but he was less controlling than Percy.

You sometimes found it funny how they were always fighting over you. Percy was really your brother but you considered Nico as your brother too. The son of Hades became attached to you the moment you, Percy, Annabeth and Thalia found him with Bianca at that school. His protectiveness only increased after his sister's death.

You loved them deeply. You would be willing to die and kill for them and you knew the feeling was mutual. But sometimes.... They were a little too much to deal with and you liked having a moment alone, something that since your arrival at Camp Half-Blood had become almost impossible.

You remembered your first day at Camp Half-Blood. Percy was excited to show you everything, from Thalia's Pine Tree to the Big House. Nico, on the other hand, seemed more reserved when you first met, but you knew he was only concerned about ensuring your safety. The first days were full of adventures and discoveries, but also a lot of responsibilities and hard training.

There were days when everything seemed like a whirlwind. The missions, the training, the council meetings... Percy and Nico were always by your side, but sometimes, you missed a moment of peace. A moment of your own.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling workout, you decided you needed some time to yourself. Leaving a simple note for Percy and Nico – "I'm fine. I need some time alone. I'll be back soon." – you ventured out of Poseidon's cabin. You walked into the forest near the camp, a place where the sounds of nature offered a welcome solace from the chaos of the camp.

You found a small clearing, lit by the afternoon sun. You sat down on a fallen log, taking a deep breath and letting the calm surroundings wash over you. It was the first time in weeks that you could hear your own thoughts.

The only company was the dryads and some satyrs looking for these dryads. You smiled as a dryad waved at you and turned into an oak tree.

As you were lost in your reflections, remembering peaceful moments before your life turned into a whirlwind of battles and quests, conflicts with gods, and your relationship with your divine father, you heard a faint rustling in the leaves. You looked around, your heart racing a little, but you relaxed when you saw that it was just a curious squirrel. You just hoped your brothers weren't spying on you like they had many times before.

Time passed quickly, and before you knew it, the sun began to set. You knew it was time to go back. Although you loved your brothers and the camp, you knew that these moments of solitude were essential to maintaining your sanity. You stood up, feeling refreshed and ready to face whatever came next. And you knew that what would come next would be a whirlwind of questions from your brothers.

When you returned to the cabin, Percy and Nico were waiting for you, with mixed expressions of concern and relief. Percy was the first to speak, ''Are you okay?! We were worried.''

You smiled as you saw the concern in Percy and Nico's eyes, and realized how much they truly loved you, "I'm fine, really.'' You replied, trying to reassure them. ''I just needed some time to think.''

Percy sighed, clearly relieved. "We understand, but next time, give a little more notice, okay? We almost set up a search of the entire camp."

Nico, who had remained silent, finally spoke up, ''We know you need time for yourself, but you're important to us too. We want to make sure you're safe.'' There was an intensity in his voice that showed how seriously he took his responsibility to protect you and you knew that this responsibility, this protection came from a pain that he would always keep within himself.

You nodded, understanding their concern, ''I know, and I appreciate that. I promise I'll let you know better next time.''

As if there will be a next time.

That night, instead of going out for another training session, the three of you decided to spend time together, just talking and laughing. Percy told funny stories about his first days at Camp Half-Blood, while Nico, a little more reserved, shared some memories of his childhood with Bianca.

You loved them and you knew it. But they tended to become increasingly overprotective when you decided to leave without warning. They hated it when you did that. Were you that naive? The camp might be safe but they didn't trust the other demigods and gods. Nico and Percy that night, after you fell asleep, made an oath to each other.

You wouldn't go out alone anymore. And they would be sure that you would obey that. It's not like you really have a choice.

[koisuko]

Hello! Could I request a MK1 one-shot or headcannons of either Tomâs, Kuai Liang, or Bi-Han with a quiet and shy reader who can manipulate water? Maybe the reader is more reserved and prefers to work by themselves but is paired with ^ on a mission and they get closer to one another through different situations they’re put through?

Apologies this took so long, I realized I didn’t know much about Tomas and looked into him some more. Hope you enjoy it!

Gn reader, sfw, hcs

Tw: none, just fluff

You silently approach the doors of Liu Kang’s map room, faint conversation could be heard within. He had called you in for a special favor, a mission, the details still unknown to you. As you lightly knock, you could hear the conversation cease, a soft yet firm voice reaching your ears, “you may enter.” The doors creak open to reveal a rather unexpected sight, three men stand opposite Liu Kang as they surround a long map table. These men were unrecognizable to you, as they all turned to face your small frame. Liu Kang held a soft expression as he addressed you, “y/n, please come in, we have much to discuss.” You smile rather sheepishly, your head low and eyes focused on the wood beneath you, slowly approaching the wooden table. The men continued to stare you down, silently observing you. You kept your distance for the most part, watching Liu Kang’s hands as he guided the symbolic pieces across the paper, detailing the mission ahead:

Bi-Han

At first glance Bi-han would keep you at arms distance, very cold and reluctant to speak to you unless it was required of him.

He would most likely feel distaste in the fact that someone who “isn’t Lin Kuei” will be accompanying him on this mission, let alone just the two of you.

Likely cold and distant at first, only voicing his opinions on your fighting ability. Although the occasional “are you unharmed?” Does not go unnoticed on your end, earning a slight blush to grace your features.

His eyes are very expressive, many years of wearing a metal mask subconsciously taught him to do so, even if he tries to hide it.

His ego and cold demeanor would never allow him to admit it, but he was in fact intrigued by your ability to manipulate water.

He also might feel a sense of protectiveness over your shy and reclusive behavior.

Eventually you will learn that he may not speak words but his actions speak volumes, he protects you when needed in combat, using his ice to aid you where he can.

Despite his words, he does not find your shyness a hinderance, quite the opposite actually. He enjoys the quiet between you two and would much rather focus on the mission than make small talk.

To him, your powers and his combined make a formidable force, enhancing eachother during battle.

He enjoys the power you give him and vice versa, he finds this compatibility admirable, though he won’t ever tell you that. Merely standing by your side and attempting to mix your abilities when the opportunity presents itself.

If he makes you blush one way or another, he will definitely hide a sense of pride rising up in him at making you flustered. Occasionally, feeling confused on what exactly caused this reaction.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang, much like his older brother, is also not much of a talker. Not because he thinks negatively of you, no, he actually admires your prowess when wielding your aqua abilities.

At first he may keep to himself and keep things strictly business, only really discussing the plans and mission ahead.

Kuai Liang is much more approachable than his brother, offering warm welcoming smiles and gentle hushed tones to make you more comfortable.

He would be more openly protective of your reserved behavior, treating you like a delicate flower but never doubting your self sufficiency.

Conversations would be had if you are comfortable to open up to him, he offers a warm and safe environment, giving off gentle vibes to put you at ease.

During the mission he would be taking the lead, understanding that you’re used to working alone and helping you learn the ropes of working with others.

He often worries if your abilities will clash with his, he’s very capable of working around the differences, however.

He will often check to make sure you’re safe and secure, aiding in any injuries you may have acquired in battle. He would never overstep though, making sure you’re comfortable in his care.

When you blush, a small grin will pass over his features, he finds it cute and will attempt to bring that heat rushing back up in anyway he can.

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas is just as shy and reserved as you, he will keep to himself but not in a cold way.

He will offer an ear if you need it, even comforting you if you show that you’re overly uncomfortable.

During the mission his eyes will shine with awe at your unique abilities, the way you handle yourself filling him with determination and inspiration.

He finds your water abilities to be beautiful, and quite fitting to you as a person. He may even observe the way you interconnect your water and fighting abilities seamlessly.

Much like his brothers, he may feel a sense of duty to protect you from danger due to your shyness. Instinctually pushing you behind him when conflict arises.

He won’t say it out loud, as his nerves would get the better of him, but he actually finds your shyness adorable.

To him, you two are much alike and have much in common. He may look forward to having more missions with you in the future.

He will openly complement your abilities, not without the occasional blush or fumble of the words.

When you blush or stutter, he will also blush, not of embarrassment, but out of admiration. He thinks it’s adorable, watching your expression change to that of embarrassment. He may even subtly tease you, only for you to repeat the process tenfold.

When the blood comes rushing to your face, he can’t help but stare, taking in your features and memorizing the way that light pink dusts your cheeks. This only causes your face to become a deeper shade of red, he smiles and looks away, attempting to hide a blush of his own.

Be gentle, this is my first request! Hope you enjoyed it, hopefully I can learn and get better for the future.

[aurumacadicus]

You guys remember that Demon!Steve and Angel!Tony thing I posted? How about some backstory. Also I have a secret backstory for angel pronouns but I feel like I'm gonna be smote if I say them so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ There's a reason Steve uses it/its for Tony until told otherwise.

Also TW: lots of religious imagery.

--

The church was empty.

Steve blinked up at it slowly. The church hadn't been empty for... he didn't know how long. It had been his. He had... lived there? He'd... attended, he was certain. And he had... he had died there.

He was born there. It had never been empty in his memory. He had many years of memory, of hours of people sitting-standing-kneeling-weeping-praying. He noted the broken shards of glass where there used to be windows. The colors had once danced across the ground at his feet from the amount of candles inside. The large doors were broken, one hanging off its hinges while the other was lying on the stone steps. He wondered at what could have done this. The doors were heavy. It had taken two people to open and close just one of them.

Then he noticed an ethereal glow coming from inside. The church had always been lit by candles. He was no longer cautious like he had been as a child, coughing and coughing and gasping and coughing. He stepped inside.

Steve had seen angels before. Small things, with wingspans like birds. White-feathered, glowing silvery in the dark. Young. He'd enjoyed scaring them off, spitting fire and venom at them.

This angel could destroy him before he even turned to leave, he realized, the coal that had become his heart dropping to his stomach. Old, older than any he had seen, even the ones he saw walking with the much older demons back in the halls of Hell, discussing things he could never understand. And powerful, more powerful than the angels he saw come down and sing 'be not afraid.' This angel glowed the gold of the first angels, ones who twisted the stars into shape.

As Steve watched, the angel turned, face twisted into a cold mask of fury, eyes still glowing a faint blue. It was too late to run. He would be smote. But there was something... wondrous about it, he thought, eyes wide, trying to take everything in before the nothing he'd surely be wrought into. This church had been damned long before now. Steve hadn't even felt a tingle at his toes from any consecration. It had been desacralized long before he'd died on the altar. The angels he'd seen were only as powerful as the ground was holy. This angel hadn't been stopped by the fact that there was nothing holy here.

"An avenger," Steve whispered as the angel faced him, spread its wings wide and high, the span wide enough that its wings were forced to curl back in against the walls. It glared at him, but he only felt an odd sense of... calm. If he died at the hands of an angel who could wipe out a sinful church full of people with black hearts in an effort to cleanse its stain on the earth, he figured yeah, he could be at peace with that.

Steve felt cool hands cupping his cheeks, tipping his head back and forth. He heard excited babbling, frantic and dismayed, but he couldn't understand the words. He didn't... feel dead. His head was fucking throbbing, though, and he groaned, loudly, to try and get whoever was on top of him to stop moving it.

The voice said something, relief practically dripping from it, and Steve forced his eyes open, blinking against the pulse of pain it caused.

The angel was on top of him. As he focused on its face, he saw it smile, relieved like he'd expected, but also self-deprecating, in a way. "There you are," it said, hands cradling his face again. "I misjudged how strong you were. I'm sorry."

"...you think I was weaker?" Steve asked faintly, feeling a thrum of angry heat in his chest.

"I thought you were stronger. Older," it corrected thoughtfully. "I thought you could withstand the blast. I needed to get you out quickly. Another moment, and the holiness sweeping back through the church would have smote you instantly. Consecration is almost instantaneous when an angel is behind it."

"...you..." Steve blinked. "Saved me?"

The angel dipped its head, eyelashes sweeping down against its cheeks. "You weren't the one poisoning this place. I wasn't sent to smite you."

Steve blinked again. He didn't know what to say. He sort of didn't believe he actually still existed. He lifted his hands to put them over the angel's.

"Oh," the angel breathed, eyes flying open wide. It looked just as full of wonder as Steve had felt, seeing its power. "I didn't know demons were so warm."

It had forgotten, Steve realized. It didn't remember a demon's touch. He was suddenly filled with confidence he probably shouldn't have had. He chalked it up to the angel apparently caring about his existence enough to get him to safety instead of being smote as an unfortunate bystander. He lifted a hand to cup the angel's cheek instead, and the angel shuddered, breath puffing out against his wrist cool and fresh from its parted lips as it looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

"You can make it up to me," Steve told it. "Once my head stops throbbing."

The angel blinked at him, a slow up-and-down of the most beautiful lashes, Steve thought. "...How would you like me to make it up to you, imp?" it asked.

If it had been anyone--anything--else, Steve would be offended. But. He knew the angel was powerful. Old. He probably did look like a young imp to it. Steve licked his lips, allowing the angel to see a hint of just how long his tongue was, and the angel let out a startled giggle that sounded like church bells, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"I see why the word 'impudent' starts with 'imp,'" the angel answered coyly.

Steve didn't allow it to demure, instead rolling on top of it and wedging the angel's thighs open with his knees, even as his vision swam and his head throbbed. Its white robes fell around it in a way that Steve could only describe as indecent, and he thought it was only because this was an angel who could easily snap him in half, but it was allowing him the position of being on top of it. "Call me Steve," he offered. He didn't want to be called imp, to be reminded of their stations. He didn't think he could follow through if he kept being called that.

The angel hummed, thoughtful, then arched its back a little with a pleased hum. "I'll call you that," it decided, spreading its wings out over its head. "Older, stronger demons have run away with their tails between their legs. You deserve the respect, I think."

"Thanks," Steve couldn't help but deadpan.

The angel offered him a cheeky smile. "You can call me Tony, Steve."

"Tony," Steve repeated quietly, rolling it around in his mouth. "I like that. Yeah, I wouldn't mind panting that in your ear."

"Panting that in my ear?" Tony repeated, brows furrowing together, before its eyes went wide and Steve had the distinct joy of watching one of the most powerful angels alive blush from its face down to its chest, the redness visible through the thin cotton of its robes. "Oh!"

"Oh," Steve agreed, reaching up to grab Tony's wrists and pin them next to its head. The angel let him, and it stoked the heat in him higher, the pulsing pain behind his eyes now an annoyance he pushed aside rather than a debilitation. Belatedly, he figured he should ask, "You're not gonna smite me for this or anything, are you?"

"Far be it from me to smite you for your innate demonic urges," Tony drawled, smirking, and twitched its hand back and forth just to show him how easy it would be to break free of his grip. It batted its eyes at him. "I like a male form, but I can switch to a female one if you like. To make it up to you."

"This is just fine," Steve promised, and then added a careful, questioning, "Sir?"

"You don't have to call me sir, beloved," Tony purred, wings fluttering against the ground. "Just because I'm old, it doesn't mean I adhere to the social hierarchy." Then it blinked, surprised, before letting out another bell-toll giggle and added, "I don't hold to any of those pronoun conventions either. Call me as you see me."

"I'll call you mine," Steve offered, and Tony threw his head back, laughing with delight. Steve didn't know how to tell him he wasn't being cheeky. He suddenly and irrevocably wanted nothing but the angel beneath him.

He pushed it aside. Meeting angels as powerful as Tony was were a once-in-a-lifetime event, especially among demons as young as he. Instead, he leaned down, pressed his mouth to Tony's, shivering as the angel gasped cool and wet against it. He wondered if Tony's shiver was because of how hot he felt. Hoped it was.

The cry Tony let out as Steve ripped his robes from the top down to the bottom sounded like ecstasy already, and Steve wasted no time pressing against him from shoulder to hip just to hear Tony moan and flap his wings uselessly.

[neo404]

Can I get a fic where male reader has had an attitude all day and Nick decided to fuck it out of him and overstimulate him. (So there is like a lot of teasing and maybe he gets like tied to the bed?)

All I Need.

Summary: after telling you all day to behave, Nick grows tired of you attitude and decides to fuck it out of you.

Tw: NSFW, cursing, a few spanks, Nick calls reader slut a few times.

Note: I tried to keep the readers body as vague as possible so everyone can enjoy this :3 also, i wrote this with that outfit on mind.

There was no reason for me to be grumpy, I just woke up this way, sadly for everyone else today was a busy day.

‘’What do you want to eat?’’ Nick looks down at his phone scrolling throw the ordering app.

‘’I don’t know, whatever.’’ He slightly raises his eyes to look at me, his brows a bit frowned.

‘’I’m asking you, what do you want to eat?’’ he asks again and I let out a huff.

‘’Whatever.’’ I roll my eyes at him and cross my arms.

‘’Don’t talk to me like that… I’ll order and if you don’t like I don’t wanna hear you whinnying about it, got it?’’ he looks back at his phone ordering our breakfast.

When the food arrived, I don’t want to eat it. I just stare at it while Nick eats from his sandwich.  

‘’Why won’t you eat?’’ he finally asks after a while, I just shrug my shoulders and he lets out a sigh.

‘’Don’t want to.’’

‘’You could have told me that.’’

‘’Whatever.’’

‘’Don’t whatever me. What happened today? Why are you so moody?’’ he’s frowning, the muscles of his face tensing and I don’t know why, but it makes me feel grumpier.

‘’I don’t know, leave me alone.’’

His jaw tenses and then he speaks softly. ‘’Okay.’’

---

It was a long day, photoshoot after breakfast, lunch with friends, afternoon meeting to discuss the next merch drop, and at night dinner with friends again. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered me, but today I just can’t seem to be able to take it.

‘’Boy, what’s wrong with you?’’ Tara who is sitting besides me asks.

‘’I don’t know. I woke up with the worst mood ever, I am so grumpy for no reason.’’ I grumble to her.

‘’I get it, it sometimes happens to me too. Wanna tell me about it?’’ I do, I talk to her about how I feel and I start to lighten up, feeling like the burden of the day is leaving my body. We start to laugh and joke about our grumpy moods. From time to time I feel Nicks intense stare from across the table, but I decide to brush it off.

‘’Give me a second, I’ll go to the bathroom.’’ I stand up and walk to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and move my hair a bit, I hear the door opening and I see Nicks reflection on the mirror.

‘’So, you are not grumpy anymore?’’ I look at him on the mirror, his arms are crossed over his chest and he looks mad.

‘’Maybe, I don’t know.’’

‘’Oh, I think you aren’t because you were laughing a lot with Tara out there.’’ I turn around and also cross my arms, my chin high and a grin on my face.

‘’Yeah, she’s really funny.’’

‘’Is that so?’’ he raises on eyebrow, slowly walking towards me. ‘’Does she make you laugh more than me?’’

‘’Not really, but she knows how to handle me when I’m grumpy.’’ Both of his hands are on my hips, his gaze piercing throw my soul.

‘’And I can’t? are you saying I can’t handle you?’’ Nicks voice is low, his grip on my hips tightening and I gulp nervously.

‘’Maybe if you feel that way it’s because it’s true…’’ I smile playfully and he growls.

‘’You were being a brat all day, you are so fucking spoiled you think you can get away with everything. Don’t make me get angrier because you won’t like how I am planning to make you behave.’’ My cheeks turn red, he knows just how to handle me, he knows exactly what to do and say to make me melt on his hands. But I want more, I want to see how far a can push.

‘’You hallow threats don’t scare me.’’ I walk away from his grip and to the bathroom door. ‘’Also, I think you look hot when you try to be dominant.’’ I wink at him and walk out of the bathroom; I hear a faint mumbling inside of it and I giggle as I make my way to the table.

---

‘’Want me to drop you off?’’ Matt talks softly to me when we everybody is standing outside the restaurant, saying goodbyes, seeing of they will go to their homes.

‘’I already ordered an uber for us.’’ Nick says standing besides me, his hand on my waist, pressing me against him.

‘’You staying the night there?’’ Matt asks again and Nick hums. ‘’Okay, see you then. Bye.’’ Then he walks besides Chris who was saying goodbye to everybody.

When the car arrives Nick and I sit in silent, both of his hands on his knees, he seems grumpy. I might have flirted a bit with Jake to see how he reacts, but I don’t think he is too mad… is he?

When we arrive at my apartment, I thank the driver and we walk in silence to my place. I feel his gaze on my back as I unlock the door slowly, regretting a bit my actions.

‘’I-… Nick.’’

‘’Shut up.’’ He pushes the door open and shoves me inside too. He closes the door behind him, takes of his jacket and hangs it on the coat hanger. ‘’Go to your room, take off your clothes, leave your boxers. I want you on your knees on the floor when I arrive. If you are not doing it, I swear…’’ he takes a deep breath, he is not looking at me, he is massaging his forehead with one hand, my legs shake as I nod even when he can’t see me. ‘’Go, 10, 9…’’ I sprint to my room, undoing my pants and taking of my shirt on the way there. I slam the door open and throw my shirt somewhere, quickly shoving my shoes out and then taking off my pants, I try to steady my breath as I kneel on the floor in front of my bed.

I hear the faint steps and counting getting louder and louder. ‘’1 and 0.’’ Nick enters the room, his tie undone and his shirt undone a few buttons. ‘’Oh, so you can be obedient.’’ He sits at the edge of the bed in front of me, my cheeks turn red and I nod slightly. ‘’You made me really mad today, being a brat all day, you think that I was going to let it slide?’’ I shake my head. ‘’And then it seems like nothing happened, like you weren’t a fucking whinny bitch all day, you go and laugh your ass off with Tara, and then you fucking flirt with Jake, in front of me.’’ I gulp and look down at his boots. ‘’Maybe I have been too nice with you lately and you have forgotten who you belong to.’’ I shake my head. ‘’Words, slut.’’ His hand grips my jaw, forcing my head up, meeting his eyes that seemed darker than usual.

‘’N-no. I’m yours.’’

‘’Well, you aren’t acting like it. I’ll have to fuck you into my good boy again, don’t I?’’ I nod the best I can with his iron grip on me. ‘’That’s it.’’ His hand leaves my jaw, it goes to his pants to undo them and lower them enough so he can take his dick out. ‘’Come closer, crawl.’’ He pats his thigh, and I crawl closer to him, his hand gripping the base of his cock, pumping it a few times. ‘’Go on, suck it.’’ His hand leaves his dick and makes its way to my head, grabbing me by the hair and pulling my face closer to him, I open my mouth and take him. I move my head up and down slowly, his hand is still on my hair, not pushing or pulling, not yet. ‘’Shit, that’s it. Faster.’’ I obey, moving my head faster and deeper. He lets out a growl, I look up at him, his head is throwed back and his eyes are closed. Then I feel it, his grip on my hair tightening, he starts pushing and pulling my head, using my mouth just for his pleasure, I feel the tip close to the back of my throat, my eyes are watery and I gag with every thrust. He looks down at me, biting on his lip. ‘’God, my slut taking that cock so well in his mouth. Fuck, you look so pretty with your mouth full.’’ He pulls my head backwards, with my tongue out and a few tears running down my eyes I pant, looking up at him with my teary eyes, I feel his precum on my cheek and nose, I can taste it on my tongue.

‘’Shit. So pretty when I use you, so fucking handsome. Is that all you needed to shut up? You needed my dick on your mouth to finally shut up. Tell me baby.’’ I close my mouth, licking my lips and nodding. ‘’That’s it, good slut.’’ I place my head on his thigh and he pats my head softly. After a few seconds my breath is steady again, he wipes the tears that fell down my face. ‘’On the bed, now.’’ I stand up, slowly laying down on the bed. My legs are clenched together trying to find a bit of friction. I see Nick taking his tie off. ‘’Arms up.’’ As soon as he says it my arms are above my head, my wrists together, and he softly but efficiently ties my hands together.

His hands roam my body, his teeth and lips leaving red marks all over my body. He doesn’t miss a single spot, my arms, my neck, chest, belly, thighs. My body squirms and shivers with his touch. Moans slipping from my mouth. ‘’Please, need you.’’

‘’But baby, don’t you remember? You were a fucking brat today; you don’t get to decide what you get… but maybe if you beg I’ll consider letting you cum.’’ He bites my thigh and slaps it.

‘’Please, I need you. Please, I’m sorry, won’t do it again, just please, want you so bad.’’ I feel him smiling against my skin. Nick bites the hem of my boxers and slides them down, my breath hitches at that sight.

‘’God, you are a mess. So, fucking needy.’’ he reaches out to my nightstand grabbing a bottle of lube that he left last time, he coats two of his fingers on it. ‘’Knees to your chest.’’ He demands, I pull up my legs the best I can without the help of my hands. ‘’Good job. Fuck, look at you, all wet and ready for me.’’ His fingers make their way to my entrance, slowly drawing lines and circles on in, making my legs tremble. Slowly he pushes the two fingers in, making my back arch a bit, my mouth opening and a soft moan escaping my mouth. His fingers start making scissor motions for a few seconds, then the introduces another finger, and this time he stars pumping the three of them at an ungodly pace. My back arching more, mouth and pleads leaving my mouth. ‘’Keep your legs up, come on.’’ His other hand on one of my knees, keeping it against my chest.

"Can’t. Fuck, I can’t. Please, please, can I cum?’’

‘’Go ahead baby.’’ a few quick pumps more and my legs were shaking, my head pressed against the mattress, but his hands didn’t stop, he started pumping faster, his fingers curling just the right way hitting all the right spots inside of me. ‘’Fuck, Nick. Please!’’ My eyes get watery, my hands gripping the sheets below it.

‘’I wanna hear you, don’t hold back. Make sure everyone hears how much of a slut you are for me, want everyone to know how good I make you feel.’’ My legs can’t stop shaking. I can’t control my moans. My thoughts are incoherent and my words too.

‘’Please! too much. So good.’’ I feel my stomach tightening again, and once again I let myself go on his hand. But this time he pulls his fingers out.

‘’Good fucking slut.’’ He kisses my cheek. ‘’My handsome pretty slut.’’ My chest goes up and down heavily. ‘’Can you keep going.’’ I nod. ‘’Words baby, need you to tell me what color.’’

‘’Yes, yes. Green.’’

‘’Good job.’’ He kisses my cheek again. ‘’On all fours.’’ He whispers against my hear. Letting go of my thighs he lets me roll around and I try to hold myself up the best I can with my shaky legs. I feel one slap on my ass and then the same hand gripping my hip. ‘’Say please, tell me you want me inside of you.’’

‘’Please, please. Want you, need you, need you inside. Please…’’ I move my hips backwards searching for his warmth and he slaps my ass again.

‘’So, fucking needy. Arch your back a bit more for me.’’ I do the best I can, my legs still a bit weak. ‘’So pretty…’’ I fill the tip entering my hole, I bit my lip, then he slams his hips hardly into me knocking all the hair out of my body. ‘’Go on, fuck yourself on my cock.’’

‘’Ah, fuck…’’ I moan against the pillow, rocking slamming my hips against his, going dumb on his dick. My movements are messy and my legs grow tired of moving. ‘’Can’t! please, fuck me. Please.’’

‘’God, you are so useless without me, aren’t you? Need me to fuck you, baby?’’ I moan loudly as a response. ‘’What a slut, my slut.’’ Another slap on my ass, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me in every time he thrust so I feel him deeper and rougher.

‘’Fuck. Nick!’’ my legs give up on me, I don’t fall because his strong hands are keeping me up.

‘’Didn’t give you permission.’’

‘’Sorry. Couldn’t wait, too good.’’ His trusts slow down and he starts to rub my back soflty.

‘’Wanna help me finish?’’

‘’Yes, please. wanna help you. Need to.’’ I feel a soft kiss on my shoulder and a small bite too. His hips start moving faster, it gets messy and rough again, the room filled with wet noises and moans from both of us.

‘’That’s it, so good for me. I just needed to fuck you properly for you to behave. My good boy, my good fucking slut.’’ His hands grip my waist tightly, my mind is dizzy and I can’t take it anymore, but it feels too good to stop. ‘’Shit baby, that’s it. Can I cum inside?’’

‘’Please, yes, need it inside. Please.’’ his trusts get messier, uneven and slower. His fingers digging into my flesh, probably leaving red marks I will see tomorrow.

‘’Fuck baby, cum with me. Do it. Fuck.’’ he gives two slow but deep trust and then pulls out, my legs are trembling, my breath is shaky. He helps me lay into my back and softly starts untying my hands. ‘’That’s it, good job baby. Good fucking job.’’ He kisses my cheek softly. ‘’Did so good, suck a good boy for me.’’ When my hands are free, they immediately wrap around his neck, nuzzling my face against it. ‘’I know baby, I know. I was a bit mean, but you know what bad boys get… now it’s time for me to take care of you, I’ll go get some water and something to clean us up.’’ I shake my head against his neck. ‘’Not yet? Okay, just a few seconds more, I have to get you some water baby.’’

His hands rubs my sides, his strong sent making me feel safe and warm. Nick knows exactly what to do to shut me up and make me his good boy again. He knows exactly what I need because he is all I need.

[maevesheart]

FOOLS - PART III

CORIOLANUS SNOW X CAPITOL!READER

note: continuing to use the mars family name for reader, but different storyline than tolerate it. i recommend listening to troye sivan’s “fools” while reading :)

PART I // PART II / PART III

summary: only fools would fall for coriolanus snow, and you’re the biggest fool of them all.

wc: 11.2k (hehe)

tw: possessive!!jealous!!snow, violence, cursing, death, jealous!!reader

Arachne’s funeral was one for someone of high esteem, President Ravinstill himself officiating it. They had asked you to sing Gem of Panem, one final serenade to your friend before she was 6 feet under. 

But they had decided to keep the games going, much to almost everyone’s dismay. Coriolanus was still unwavering, determined to win. 

It was somewhat late, after supper, when you received the phone call. It was from Tigris, her voice strained and hushed, whispering like she might get caught. 

“Tigris, what’s the matter,” you humm, still slowly drifting away from sleep. 

“It’s Coriolanus, there… there was a horrible rebel bombing at the arena and he was there,” 

Your heart drops, immediately making you feel awake as you’ve ever been. Before she is even finishing the rest of her sentence, you are on your feet, wrapping a long mauve colored coat around your scantily clad body, and slipping on some black ballerina flats. 

You rush out of the house, everyone is dispersed around the house, likely waiting for the Tribute interviews, and you tell the butler to alert your father of your whereabouts when he asks (which he is sure to). 

The ride feels long, you tapping your fingers, bouncing your leg, anything to keep your mind busy and off the millions of thoughts of what could’ve happened to Coryo. 

Once you arrive, the nurse leads you straight to his room, and there he is, limp on the small hospital bed. Your heart tightens and your eyes drop, quickly rushing to his side. 

You are alerted of Tigris’s presence when she finally speaks, hushed words once again. 

“He was calling for you in his sleep,” she smiles, watching as you smooth his hair down away from his face. 

“What happened Tigris?” you ask. If there had been a news report, you would’ve been held up in your room, nose buried deep in a book. And if this report did happen, which it likely did, your father would have demanded your entire family not leave for the next week. He would always get paranoid when the rebels sparsely attacked, worried that it would be someone of his who was laying in that hospital bed, hooked up to an oxygen machine. 

“They think the rebels had been planning it. A few tributes ran, mine included,” Sejanus speaks, and you whip around, watching as his large figure crosses the room. 

“I’m so sorry, Sej,” you soothe, standing up from Coryo’s bedside to wrap your arms around Sejanus’s figure. He accepted your hug, practically melting into it. 

“There’s peacekeepers on every corner looking for him. But I hope he got as far away as possible, then they can’t hurt him anymore,” you rub his back, understanding his deep empathy for his once-friend. 

“Y/N?” you whip your head around, Croyo’s faint whisper falling from his lips as his fingers lightly twitch. “Been doing that every few minutes since he was brought here,” Tigris laughs. “I didn’t realize the two of you were that close,” she says, suddenly both pairs of eyes directly on you. 

“Just over the past couple of weeks. We’ve been helping each other, and he saved me from having Arachne’s same fate.” 

At the mention of Arachne’s name, the three of you fall into somber conversation, discussing small details about her life, honoring the girl you once called a friend. 

“Though she had her moments—“ 

You’re cut off by a small grunt, and then movement. Your eyes snap to Coryo, who is trying to sit up, eyes open and adjusting to the bright hospital lights. 

You jump to his side, delicately sitting down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand in yours. 

“Y/N,” he breathes out, a smile overtaking his face before he winces, sore everywhere. 

“Oh darling, I’ll get the nurse,” 

But before you can stand to alert for help, the small television in the room clicks on, a picture of Lucky Flickerman and Lucy Gray overtaking the screen. 

“She saved me,” you hear lightly behind you, Coryo’s eyes wide as he watches her every movement. 

Your heart strains, stomach twisting at his words. 

Then her voice fills the room, smooth and beautiful with every word. 

“When I was a babe, I fell down in a holler. When I was a girl, I fell into your arms,” the four of you watched with wide eyes, her words filling up all your senses. 

The donations began to pour in, Coriolanus’s mouth pulling up in the shape of a smile. This time, he doesn’t wince. 

“You say you won’t love me, I won’t love you neither, just let me remind you what I am to you,” your eyes flicker to Coryo, 

“Cause I am the one who looks out when you’re leaping, I am the one who knows how you were brave, And I am the one who heard what you said sleeping, I’ll take that and more when I go to my grave,” 

Coriolanus won’t meet your eyes, his feet reaching the ground as he pushes himself off the bed, slowly walking to the screen. 

You hold the emotion back, plastering an unassuming look on your face. 

“It’s sooner than later that I’m six feet under, it’s sooner than later that you’ll be alone, so who will you turn to, tomorrow, I wonder? For when the bell rings, lover, you’re on your own.” 

A weep falls from Tigris’s lips, and all of you turn to look, Sejanus’s pained expression briefly flashing over your face, sensing the pain. 

“Oh, Coryo, she’s amazing,” 

You sat in the living room with your family, your large television broadcasting the first day of the games. 

You had been sitting there for hours now, your father engrossed, watching children fight to the death. 

Persephone was unfazed, sipping from a China glass with some sort of pink fizzy soda inside. 

Your mother busied herself with filing her nails, looking up every few moments and asking if it was over yet. 

Some sinister part of you, deep within your core, hoped that Lucy Gray would be the first out. So you’d never have to see her face again, hear her voice again. Then you’d have Coriolanus all to yourself, no more distractions and flamboyant performances. 

There were only a few tributes left, including Lucy Gray, the boy from 11 – Reaper, little Wovey, and the pack of tributes who traveled together. 

Coral, her name, the leader — she frightened you. 

Your father had been sending in donation after donation, mostly to Reaper, the tribute from 11. If Clemmie was conscious, you would’ve told her how your whole family was rooting for him. 

The second day of the games, Coriolanus invited you and Tigris to come with him, walking in with each of you on an arm. 

You and Tigris took your seats in the first row, eyes straining to make out the small shapes of tributes as they scurried around the arena, very few left at this time. 

You wished the games would hurry up and be finished already, Lucy Gray dead and some strong tribute pronounced the winner. You were tired of Coryo’s little fascination with the delicate songbird – you didn’t even think she was that great of a singer, anyways – and once she was dead the two of you could go back to your old ways. No distractions. 

It was soon nightfall, Tigris had left to get some sleep, and you felt yourself starting to drift off, Coryo’s jacket around your shoulders, keeping you warm from the chill in the large room. 

You lightly drifted off, awakened by the loud beep as the large monitor turned off. You jumped, pulling Coryo’s jacket tighter around your body. 

When you frantically searched around for him, he was nowhere to be seen. You rushed to Festus, one of the few of your classmates still left, begging him for answers. 

“Festus? Where did Coriolanus go?” you ushered out, words spilling out of your mouth in a hurry. Festus rolled his eyes, many of the boys in your grade had become annoyed with your obsession over the Snow boy. 

“No idea, Y/N. Dr. Gaul called him over and the next second he was being escorted away by some peacekeepers, Sejanus’s name was thrown around as well,” He was preoccupied with yelling at Lucky Flickerman, demanding to know what happened with the screen that he didn’t answer more question you threw at him. 

You rushed away from him to Dean Highbottom, who laid on the couch adjacent to the 24 desks set up in front of the screen. 

“Dean!” he snapped from his slumber, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

“What can I do for you, Miss Mars?” he asked, much nicer to you than the rest of the students. It may have had to do with your fathers large donation to the Academy. 

“Do you know where Coriolanus went?” you were calmer this time, knowing the Dean’s distaste for your beloved. Dean shrugged, taking a sip of something from a vial – morphling you assumed – before answering you. 

“Your friend has something he cares about in that arena, and he went to retrieve it.” 

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. It couldn’t be, there was no way Coriolanus would risk his life for Lucy Grays… right? 

Before you could think of anything else, your feet were taking you straight home, slamming the front door to your mansion before stomping into the living room, your father laughing while shoving something blue into his mouth. 

All his friends were over, them all drinking expensive posca and eating expensive foods while relishing in the death of district children. 

“Daddy,” 

Your father’s eyes snapped to you, taking in your disheveled appearance, Coryo’s jacket now in your hand, lightly dragging on the marbled floor. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” his friends all listening in, them all curious of what could be the matter. 

“I want you to start donating to Coral, the girl from 4. From what I saw today, she has a fair chance at winning, very fierce,” it took all of you to restrain from adding, and she’ll take out his little songbird, too.

Your father nodded, grinning that you had finally wanted to make a donation. You had spent the whole past two days moping around and refusing to place any bets on the tributes. Now Mr. Mars could finally send his fortune somewhere. 

He trailed over to the superscreen, pressing a few buttons and then clicking CORAL. He sent a few thousand dollars, all his friends doing the same. 

You would never mention this to Festus, and especially not to Coriolanus. All that mattered to you was for Lucy Gray to be gone and forgotten, taking her ugly dresses and somber songs with her. You were tired of her intrusions in your life, in the people you loved.

The screen snapped back on, no longer just a black screen with the embalm of the Capitol displayed. No, it showed Sejanus, and Coriolanus, sprinting as fast as they could. The background… well the background was the arena. And there were tributes trailing them. And suddenly you felt very sick. 

You knew now why the screen went back, and why Coriolanus went into that arena. Not to save Lucy Gray, no, but to save Sejanus. And all those dollars that your father and his friends had just sent in were now in Festus Creed’s pocket, and his tribute, the girl who was hot on your friend’s trails. 

You covered your mouth, feeling like your food from earlier was about to come up. The color was drained from your father and his friends' faces, them all standing, shocked to see the wealthy Plinth boy and noble Snow in the arena housing vicious children. Who, undeniably so, wanted the two of them dead. 

Your mind flooded with thoughts, thinking that you would be the one to cause Coryo’s death, it would be your fault if Coral caught up with him, if she reached him in time. 

The cameras panned to the exit of the arena, the peacekeepers opening the gate just enough for the two Capitol boys to escape, just enough room for them to slide out. 

A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escapes your lips, and you place a hand on your large white couch, steadying yourself. 

“Was.. was that the Snow boy, darling?” your father’s voice is faint, you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears. One of his friends answers for you, and soon another’s hands are on your back, bringing you to sit down in one of the nearby plush chairs. 

Lyssie’s dad and one of your father’s closest friends, Dr. Vickers, is soon by your side, feeling your forehead and handing you some ice to place on your face. 

All the voices are mixing, blurring together in a fury of anxiety and worry, multiple powerful men all standing around, making sure of your wellbeing. 

Finally, after what feels like long treacherous hours, you’re able to squeak out, “I’m fine.”

Your father has an Avox escort you upstairs to your room, with a glass of water and some bright orange pill that is typically used for migraines. You know Dr. Vickers prescribed it, probably the only thing he could possibly think of you having. 

You take the small pill, hoping it will give you some sort of relief from your stress. You can’t help but blame yourself, knowing that if he died in there, it would’ve been your fathers money that placed the weapon in Coral’s hands. 

You would visit him tomorrow, pretend you had no idea what happened in that arena. You’d have the Avoxe’s clean his uniform coat, and give it back to him, good as new. You would tell him you went to bed early, leaving the viewing room before the television turned off. You would give him no intell that you know he went in there, that you know how Coral got her weapons. It would be a secret, one that you hoped you’d be able to keep. 

The medication knocked you out pretty quickly, and you slept for a good 12 hours, waking up around 11 am the next day. You could hear your father downstairs, pacing the marble floors. You know he definitely only went away from the TV while Lucky Flickerman talked about the weather, likely showering or maybe taking a power nap. 

If there was one thing your father loved, it was the hunger games.

You pulled on some clean clothes, simple gray pants and a light pink blouse, and made your way downstairs, handing the closest Avox Coryo’s jacket, silently asking them to clean it. 

You had no idea how many tributes were left, hopefully only a few. And you still wished one of them wouldn’t be Lucy Gray.  

Much to your dismay, she was still very much alive and breathing. Your father stated that Jessup had died earlier that morning, as with one of the other boys, a bloody nose, your father said. What a peculiar way to die. 

That left Lucy Gray, Reaper, Wovey, Coral, and one more of her henchmen. The final five. You were nervous yet eager to get down to the Academy, to see Coriolanus and make sure he was alright. 

Cook packed you a meal, and you took Coriolanus’s now clean jacket, directing your driver to take you straight to school. 

When you arrived, you waltzed in, saying a quick hello to Tigris before rushing over to Coryo, placing his jacket over his chair, and shoving some food into his hands. 

“Coryo, eat,” you urged, trying to subtly check out his broad frame for any sort of scar or mark. You saw a large amount of gauze coming out from under his uniform, obviously wrapped around his body. 

“Coriolanus, what happened,” you whispered, fingers trailing the gauze. His eyes briefly snapped away from the screen, watching as you inspected his new attire. 

“Nothing, fell in the shower last night,” you knew it was lie, but you chose to spare him the argument, sinking back and taking a seat next to Tigris. If anyone could distract you, it would be her. 

You all sat for what felt like hours, and then came the announcement. Felix Ravinstill had succumbed to his injuries, and there would be no victor. No tribute deserved to live after the rebel’s merciless killing of the Presiden’t son. 

You and Felix weren’t the closet of friends, but you had grown up together, and your fathers had been good to each other. You remembered playing with Felix when the circus would come in town, or running around together at the zoo, faces pressed against the enclosures of various exotic animals. 

You covered your mouth with your hand, a gasp falling out, Tigris rubbed your back, her face sharing a pained expression. 

When you finally did look away from the screen, Coriolanus was gone. And you didn’t feel like trying to figure out where he went this time. 

You were sure it was to go convince Dr. Gaul or Dean Highbottom to spare his rainbow songbird, to save her life, takes his instead. 

You were tired of chasing, running down for answers, the puzzle pieces were beginning to click. 

You had too much stress already, worrying about the upcoming piano tour your father and President Ravinstill had been planning; wanting for you to tour the districts and give them a sense of national pride. To tell them: I am Panem. 

In a way, you were thankful. Your brother, Percy, would be the head peacekeeper on the tour, he’d escort you to all your shows, ride with you on the train. You’d be safe with him, not a thing in the world could touch you. 

The concerts were advertised for only the richest and of highest esteem in the districts, you doubted there would be many guests in Districts 11 and 12. Your parents were overwhelmed with pride, you were to be the symbol of the Capitol. A beautiful, talented, young girl. The future of Panem. 

You hadn’t told Coriolanus yet, you were planning on telling him once the games were over, once he had won the prize. That way the two of you could celebrate together. 

But Coriolanus was soon back, marching straight pass you and Tigris, eyes wide as he watched a tank of colorful serpents being dropped into the vast arena. 

You stood at the same time as Tigris, the two of you walking in sync to Coriolanus, both straining your necks to get a better view. 

Then the tank came crashing down, and you watched your prized tribute, Coral, go down in a sea of rainbow snakes. 

Festus was raging, turning to Coryo, wondering how his delicate little thing hadn’t gone down too. 

But she was singing. Go fucking figure. 

Murmurs were heard throughout the room, everyone with expectant eyes as you all watched the snakes curl up and around Lucy Gray, but refusing to harm her. 

Then they were chanting, calling for her release. You felt the tears spring in your eyes. There was no way she had won. You were sick of this little girl, sick of her obnoxious dresses, long songs, and sick of her hold on Coriolanus. 

When Coryo turned around, a grin adorning his face, he noticed your face, a deep frown and glossed eyes, and he knew. He knew you had given up, surrendered the war. 

Once he realized the depth of his actions, it was too late. People were being ushered out of the room by peacekeepers, one grabbed your arm, and he lunged forwards, demanding they take their hands off you. 

Your eyes stayed on him the whole time as the peacekeeper carried you away. He was left in the room, Dr. Gaul appearing from a dark corner, Dean Highbottom sitting up from the couch. 

You shook your head, once, and Coriolanus wanted to cry. Lock himself in his room and cry. He was caught, by both you and the Head Gamemaker. And that was all there was to it. He was done for.

The next thing you knew, you were being marched to a classroom in the back of the Academy, a peacekeeper on each of your sides. 

Your father had gotten word of what happened from Serbo Plinth. Coriolanus Snow, being sent to 12. No one knew why, or what prompted the sudden want to be a peacekeeper in the most frowned upon district, but you were determined to find out. 

Coryo was in the room alone, a hankerchief and silver compact sitting on the desk in front of him, his hands cuffed on his lap. 

His head lifted as you entered the room, a smile quickly onto his lips. 

“Y/N,” he breathed out, relief behind his words. He was worried it would be Highbottom again, coming back to remind him how he would never have a future. 

You were stone-faced, eyes like a robot. There was no emotion now. 

One look on the desk and you knew why he was being sent away, why his decision to leave was so sudden, so hushed. 

“You cheated?” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Coriolanus looked down, shame deep in his stomach, unable to look you in the eye. You had done so much for him, fed him when he was the hungriest, cleaned his clothes when he was the dirtiest, cradled him when he was the most delicate. 

“Coriolanus,” his head snapped up at your use of his full name, a slight frown tugging at his lips, threatening to give him away. “I hate you right now, I really do. But my father can get you out of this, he can… he can do something. I don’t know what, but better than 12,” and at the end of the day, you still couldn’t keep yourself from wanting to help him, wanting to ease his pain in any way possible. 

“No, Y/N, I can’t–” 

“Coryo, he can help you! Somewhere better, nicer conditions–”

“Will you please stop,” he interrupts you, a little more harshly than you liked. 

You took an instinctive step back, shaking your head from confusion. 

“But you cheated because you needed to win. You seriously don't want to go to 12, do you?” 

He left your question sitting uncomfortably in the air. The tension was so thick, it could’ve been cut by a knife. 

It dawned on you then, all your previous fears proving truer by the minute. 

“You seriously don’t want to go to 12, do you, Coriolanus?” you urged on, almost on the brink of tears. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

When he didn’t answer, you took that as all the confirmation you needed, turning on your heel and stomping to the door. 

You cleared your throat, slightly turning around, Coryo’s head turning as well. 

You made the strongest eye-contact you could muster, narrowing your eyes. 

He flinched under your harsh gaze, and you gave him one last look up and down before spitting venom at him. 

“I hope she’s dead once you get there.”

Coriolanus couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the last words you said to him. He knew the power your family held, the immense amounts of influence. 

Just the snap of your father’s fingers would send Lucy Gray six feet under in seconds. 

It was the only thing on his mind when he traveled to the train station. 

Would you take it that far? Did your hatred for her — hatred that he had brewed — really settled that far deep in your soul? 

He thought he knew you well, but with this, he just couldn’t read you. 

The walk to the train station was short. He had one trunk, scarcely filled with various items. A t-shirt, extra pair of pants. A few photos, that was really all. 

Dean Highbottom had assured him that the peacekeeper base in 12 would have everything he needed, there was no reason to fret over forgetting something. 

So, as he sat inside the train, looking outside the window to the mostly empty platform, the only thing he could worry about was what he would find in 12. 

Would she be alive? Or would you have reached her first? 

His thoughts weren’t all in vain, no. He heard a loud, “wait!” 

Your voice. He could recognize it anywhere. 

He stood up, hands pressed to the glass, searching for where you were coming from. 

Who were you yelling for? Him? You had been stern with your words, he was sure you’d never want to see him again. 

But then he saw him. Sejanus. 

Sejanus turned at the sound of your voice, first a perplexed look on his face, and then a smile. 

Then Coryo saw you, running, your long yellow dress following you, a blur of hair and white heels as you moved as quickly as you could. 

You were holding something, a necklace? A bracelet, maybe? He couldn’t tell, but he could see it swinging in your palm. 

You finally reached Sejanus, a peacekeeper on your trail, telling you that you must leave, now. 

You ignored him, brushing off his hand that settled on your shoulder. 

Coryo heard you hiss at him, “get off me!” 

He smiled, there was your feistiness that he began to miss. 

“Y/N,” Sejanus breathed out, eyes soft and a big smile on his face. 

You felt a twinge of guilt in your stomach for what you were about to do, but Sejanus had always been a close friend. You knew that he would make a fine man, he was sweet, empathetic, and caring. 

He would do just fine. 

One look to your left, you saw Coriolanus’s face in a train window not too far from where you stood. He was staring straight at your face, mouth slightly agape, and curiosity in his eyes. 

You reminded yourself, he deserved this. You deserved it as well, someone better. 

The two of you held eye-contact for a brief moment before you turned back to Sejanus, and launched yourself at him. 

Your hungry lips met his, and you were up on your tiptoes, arms wrapping around his neck. 

Sejanus was taken aback, but soon his hands were resting on your hips, and he was kissing you back. 

It was gentle, slow. Nothing like kissing Coryo, but you pushed all those memories to the back of your mind, knowing if you thought about it too long you’d cry. 

You opened your eyes, Sejanus’s still closed, and made direct eye contact with Coriolanus. 

He was seething, you could tell. His mouth downturned in a scowl as you continued to move your lips against Sejanus’s. 

Finally, after what you decided was enough torture, you pulled back, and placed the necklace you had been holding in his hand. 

He looked down, wondering, creasing his eyebrows together. 

“A token. To remember me by,” you smiled, closing his palm around the chain. 

It was a long gold chain, one that likely cost a fortune, with a small gold plate, your initial carved into it. A small ruby stone sat at the top, one to match the ring you never took off. 

You knew Sejanus would wear it everyday, never taking it off. And that’s all you needed. For Coriolanus to see the token every day, to see your initial, your stone. To know that wherever he went, you’d be following. 

Sejanus thanked you, left a kiss to your cheek, and placed the chain around his neck, waving to you as he boarded the train, a grin never leaving his features. 

You began to feel bad, but you knew you could form feelings for him. They’d never be as strong as your feelings for Coryo, but they’d do. Sejanus had a fortune at his feet, he would be able to give you the life you deserved, even if it wasn’t the one you wanted. 

When Sejanus took a seat across from Coryo, a grin was wide across his features, and Coryo wanted to reach across the seat and smack it off his face. 

He had watched you place a chain in Sejanus’s hands, but it was now that he could finally get a look. 

The ruby left a raging feeling in his gut, remembering the words he had spoken to you in times of intimacy. 

“…a new ruby ring every birthday. Darling, it’s all for you,” 

He watched with envy as Sejanus traced his finger along the carving of your initial, hand balled in a fist under the table. 

Sejanus had surprised him, unwilling for him to travel to 12 alone. “That’s what friends do,” he had said. 

But Coriolanus knew that a friend wouldn’t be dreaming about ripping the others' head off. 

And that’s when he knew he had to take Sejanus out. One way or another. 

Your tour around the districts had been going magnificently. Better than you ever could have hoped. Persephone insisted on coming with you, declaring you needed support after everything that happened with Coryo. 

Somehow, the situation had brought the two of you together, forming a sister-bond that you had never experienced before. 

Percy was your personal peacekeeper, his room always connected to yours, his body always hovering slightly behind as you walked around the districts, meeting various people and sightseeing around. 

The three of you stayed in the Crane’s various hotels, given the nicest rooms, and best service. After all, you were Panem’s Princess. 

But once you reached District 11, it all started to go down. 

President Ravinstill insisted you do the districts in order, starting with One and ending with Twelve. “Give them something to look forward to,” he had said. 

You were worried for the poorer districts, you couldn’t lie. The people were more violent, dirtier. They would risk their lives to try and kill you, the precious gem of the Capitol. 

Connection was compliance, and you knew these people hated anyone having to do with President Ravinstill. He had punished them tirelessly after the war, and didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. 

You were scared someone would throw themselves up onto the stage as you played, maybe charge into your dressing room with a knife after the show. You had no idea what to expect. You hadn’t seen these districts apart from their features once a year at the reapings. 

You had vacationed to Districts One and Two before the war, when your family would parade around with the Cranes to their various homes. But now, you were in the last two districts, and though all your other shows had gone marvelously, you were sure they wouldn’t all be good. One had to be an outlier. 

District 11 was kind to you when you first arrived, a little girl had walked up to you at the station, holding a small pink flower. Percy stood straight next to you, guarding you from any potential danger this flower could harm. 

“It’s alright, Perse,” you assured him, taking the flower from the little girl’s hands. 

“You look like a princess,” she had spoken, big eyes raking up and down your travel outfit, which was likely more expensive than all the money she would ever make. 

You giggled at her compliment, gracefully accepting it, and holding the flower close to your heart. 

Just as you were about to compliment her little dress, Percy pushed you backwards, yelling for you and Persephone to get back onto the train. 

You looked around in confusion, Percy’s backup peacekeepers coming out and grabbing your arms, pulling you back into the comforts of the bullet-proof train, one especially made for Capitol citizens. 

Your eyes darted around as they continued to pull you, the sound of gunshots being the only thing you could hear. You were suddenly hyper-aware, realizing that Percy had just raced after whatever was posing the threat. 

You thrashed against the peacekeeper's hard grip, trying to get back to the little girl, watching as people ran across the station; she was likely to get trampled. 

“Help her!” you screamed, motioning for the multiple peacekeepers surrounding you to go help the frightened little girl. 

She was looking around, shaking profusely. No one knew what was happening, only that there had been rebels waiting outside the underground station, wanting to get their hands on the three holders of the Mars fortune. 

The loud boom of the bombs then began to fall, and you fell to the ground, Persephone coming down next to you. She grabbed you, pulling you into her lap, and the two of you covered your heads with your arms, like you had been trained to do during the war. 

A peacekeeper was on top of you two, gun positioned up as more went out to shoot at the innocent civilians who were just trying to escape. 

You felt sick, like you were going to throw up. So this was how President Ravinstill was punishing the districts? By shooting them at random and trampling them in public spaces? 

You resonated with his loss of Felix, his only child, but to you, this seemed extreme. You suddenly realized that Sejanus had been right the whole time; the government was meant to protect its people, not kill them. 

Finally, the shaking and sounds stopped, and a peacekeeper took your hand to help you stand, legs wobbly from the fear still coursing throughout your body. 

When he placed his hands on your hips to ensure you could stand, it reminded you too much of Coriolanus, and you broke, “get your hands off me!” 

He was taken aback, hands immediately leaving your body, and giving you a bewildered look. You realized he was only trying to help, and apologized, smoothing down your long dress. 

Percy finally returned, engulfed you into his arms, and you began your trek to the Peacekeeper barracks, where the President now wished for you to stay. 

You hated the idea of living among hundreds of men, but there was nowhere else you’d be safer. Percy assured you that he’d sleep in the bunk next to yours, it would just be you and your siblings in the room, no one else. You finally agreed, realizing you really didn’t want to sleep alone after that rebel scare. 

Percy explained it all to you on the ride to the barracks. Some rebels knew when your train was arriving, and they had planned to grab you and run, from what he saw, there were a lot of them, definitely enough to take you if they hadn’t last-minute called for extra peacekeepers. They had feared something like this would happen, especially after Reaper’s public humiliation of the Capitol in the games. 

They got a few of the rebels, and they were currently being sent to the Capitol for interrogation. Percy said they would have more information in a few hours, once Dr. Gaul had received the men. 

Your mind was going a mile a minute, trying to comprehend all the information you just received. Someone was trying to kill you? To take you and run, then kill you later, broadcasting all around the districts? Showing the Capitol that they can kill, but the districts can too? 

Your stomach began to turn. You were absolutely dreading your performance that night. Originally, it had been planned that you would do two shows in each district, except 12. But you had managed to pull a few strings, and now had one night in 11 and two nights in 12. 

You wanted to see Sejanus. To kiss him again, dance with him. You knew deep down that you really longed to see Coriolanus, to see if Lucy Gray was still alive. You had been writing to Sejanus, and he had been sending you updates. 

He claimed it was so dark and dreary there, everyone was poor, dirty. He wanted to help them but he didn’t know how. The last thing you wanted was Sejanus to be killed for being an accomplice to some rebels, so you reminded him to just lay low. Do his duties, and then come home as soon as possible. 

The only thing on your mind the entire time you performed in 11, went to bed, and then boarded the train the next morning was seeing him again. Coriolanus. You had pushed him to the back of your head, trying your hardest to forget about him and all his stolen promises. But as you came closer and closer to seeing him again, you couldn’t keep the thoughts contained anymore. 

And as the train zoomed past the break in the gate that read “District Twelve”, your stomach began to twist. 

Sejanus had bought tickets for your show tonight, three, enough for him, Coriolanus, and Lucy Gray to all attend. 

Coriolanus didn’t think it was right for Lucy Gray to go. After all, she was the reason that you kissed Sejanus, the reason that he was now stuck in District 12, when he should really be in the Capitol, with you. 

He was excited for the performance, he couldn’t lie. He had told Lucy Gray not to come, that she would hate it. Besides, Lucy Gray had her own show that night. She was not happy that Coriolanus was skipping it to see you, but nothing had progressed between the two of them. They hadn’t kissed, they had barely spoken. But she didn’t know of your history with Coriolanus, all she knew was that she had once persuaded him to profess his love for you, and now, there she was, the man she loved skipping her performance for his ex-lovers.

Sejanus didn’t know, nobody did. No one knew of the nights the two of you spent, the moment in the coat closet, the whispered promises in moments of passion. 

Coriolanus still hoped that you were holding out for him, despite your goodbye kiss with Sejanus. He had wanted to strangle Sejanus on the spot, but he knew something would arise, something that he could turn him in for. Sejanus could never stay away from a “good cause”, and Coriolanus had finally caught him. He had given some rebels money, and Coriolanus fully planned on turning him in. 

The two of them took their seats in the small amphitheater. It was the only one that Twelve had, and it could fit maybe 100 people. That meant only the richest in all of Twelve. You doubted all the seats would fill, but you really just wanted to finish the show and see the boys. That’s all you wanted. 

So when you walked out on stage, wearing a camel-colored dress and a big black bow in your hair, Coriolanus thought he was going to faint. 

He was curious about which songs you would choose to play. You hadn’t played A Snow Waltz since your very first performance, and Coriolanys doubted you would play it tonight. But each night, without fail, you sang. And the songs were usually from the old world, each one somehow resonating with the District you were in. It was your touch. You got to pick what you performed, the one thing that the President gave you freewill over. 

Tonight, you had chosen A Snow Waltz. You had changed the name on the program, therefore no one would be able to predict it. But as soon as your fingers began to dance along the keys, Coriolanus began to melt, immediately recognizing the piece. 

You knew he would recognize it, that was the whole reason you chose it. It was for him, everything always was. And so, when you sang the same song that you had played the very first time, the very first song you had sang to the people of Panem, Coriolanus knew. He knew that he had to win you back, no matter what it took. 

You were showered with praise, bowing before the people of Twelve. You had to admit, they had been a better audience than you expected. 

And when a white rose fell at your feet, you looked up, eyes meeting those cold ones that belonged to Coriolanus. 

He offered you a slight smile, which turned to a grin when you smiled back. 

After the show, Sejanus had been escorted back to your dressing room, swooping you into his arms and kissing all over your face, begging you to join him at the bar. 

“I don’t know if that is really my scene, Sej,” you rubbed your arm awkwardly, looking up at him with big doe eyes. 

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N/N, I promise, I’ll make it worth your while!” 

You dressed in the most normal outfit you had packed, a short white dress with bell sleeves, lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. 

It was a dress you picked up in District One, Persephone commenting how it went great with your hair and eyes. 

You put on your tan boots, and tied them up. You looked like someone from the districts, and if it weren’t for the big ruby ring on your middle finger, and perfectly done makeup upon your face, you could’ve possibly passed for a district girl. 

You left the big black bow in your hair, wanting to keep a piece of your distinct style with you, despite all your clothing being picked up on your journey around Panem. 

You saw your necklace still around Sejanus’s neck, and it gave you a sense of pride, knowing Coriolanus definitely had spotted it too, probably grinding his teeth to keep himself from launching at Sejanus from across the room. 

So finally, when you had convinced Percy that you’d be safe with Sejanus and all the other peacekeepers who were going, you linked arms with Sejanus and let him lead you away.

But when you walked into the club with Sejanus, and there was an old-feeling country song on, you pulled him into the middle of the dancefloor and demonstrated the moves you had danced to alone in your bedroom, for many, many years. Dancing like this would have never been allowed in the Capitol. If your father saw you flipping your hair around and jumping with a bunch of strangers, he’d probably have dropped dead. 

You didn’t even realize it was Lucy Gray performing until you spinned in Sejanus’s arms, eyes meeting hers. You froze, watching her mouth move to the lyrics of the song she sang at the reaping. 

You watched her eyes slightly narrow before she smiled at you, and before you could stop yourself, you were smiling back, continuing to spin in Sej’s arms. 

Coriolanus watched from a corner deep in the bar, eyes on you and your tiny dress, when they really should’ve been on Lucy Gray. But he couldn’t look away. Not from the beaming smile upon your lips, or the way your hair flew as Sejanus spinned you to the beat of the song. 

When Lucy Gray finished her song, she announced your presence, and all the blood suddenly drained from your face. You had no idea what she was doing, but the whoops from the people throughout the small place assured you that your presence was welcomed. 

“Come up and sing us a song, Y/N!” Lucy Gray reached out for your hand, tugging you up onto the stage. Coriolanus wondered what game she was playing at, eyes narrowing as you walked up the steps to the stage, a light blush dotting your cheeks. 

You walked up to the microphone, pushing the hair out of your face. Sejanus was right below you, and you knew that if anything were to happen, he would be the first to you, pulling you away from the danger. 

“Hi everyone, I’m Y/N,” you speak into the microphone, giggling as the whole bar begins to cheer, begging you to sing them a song. You didn’t realize people enjoyed your music so much. 

“I don’t have my piano! What am I supposed to perform?” you asked them, various people shouting at you to just sing instead. 

“Alright, I guess I will. This song I wrote myself, to help me cope with a particularly hard situation. I hope you all like it.” 

Coriolanus wondered what you could’ve been talking about, but then your voice invaded his senses and he brought the bottle of alcohol to his lips, taking a long sip. His eyes never once left your body, his gaze making you feel hot. 

“I’m tired of this place, I hope people change,” you smiled to the crowd, this song was more upbeat than any of the others you had ever sang. 

“I need time to replace what I gave away, and my hopes they are high, I must keep them small,” the crowd swayed along to your mesmerizing voice, Lucy Gray suddenly feeling very jealous of the way you commanded attention. 

“Though I try to resist, I still want it all! I see swimming pools, and living rooms, and aeroplanes, I see a little house on a hill and children’s names,” you began to move as you sang, the microphone in your hand. Even Lucy Gray and the Covey began to dance, your words getting faster by the second. 

“But everything shattered and it’s my mistake, only fools fall for you, only fools fall,” Coriolanus was suddenly hyperaware. Every song you had performed that night was because of him. He didn’t know if he should feel great shame or great pride. 

“Only fools do what I do, only fools fall,” 

And suddenly the Covey was grabbing their instruments, forging a beat to go along with the song. You smiled over your shoulder, the few members giving you encouraging nods. 

People started to cheer, obviously liking the way you demanded their attention. 

“Oh, our lives don’t collide, I’m aware of this, we’ve got differences, and impulses,” 

Your eyes met Coriolanus’s, and you grinned, his face soon matching the giddy expression. 

“And your obsession with the little things. I don’t care at all, I’m not giving up!” 

People cheered again, and you watched as Coryo slowly made his way through the crowd, trying to get a better view of you performing. 

“I still want it all!” 

You giggled as you twirled around the stage, lyrics continuing to pour from your mouth. You thought you made your message pretty clear, but when you watched both Coryo and Sejanus disappear down a hall, you briefly lost your liveliness and wrapped up the song with a loud, “Thank you all!”

You rushed down the side-stairs, and went straight down the hallway that your two boys disappeared down. You could hear raised voices, though the words were muffled through the thick walls. 

You pushed open the door, a gun immediately being pointed in your face. 

“Spruce, it’s alright,” Sejanus assured, but Coryo was first to you, his hands pushing you behind him. 

A girl with red hair was eyeing you from across the room, her eyes raking over your expensive jewelry and pretty clothing. 

“And who’s this?” the man – Spruce, you assumed – asked, motioning his gun to your body hidden behind Coriolanus. 

“You don’t look at her,” Coryo seethed out, one hand snaking behind him to hold your waist against his body, and another out in front of him, keeping Spruce and the two other strangers at bay. 

Sejanus mistook his possessiveness for just wanting to protect an old friend, but you and Coriolanus both knew that the protection meant something else. 

So Coryo still wanted you as badly as you wanted him? Did he regret going to Twelve? You supposed there was no bad blood with Lucy Gray after she brought you up onto her stage, so clearly nothing had happened in the few weeks the boys had been in Twelve. 

Your hands balled in the back of Coryo’s shirt, the harsh fabric being the only thing grounding you right then. 

You closed your eyes, reminding yourself to breathe, but your eyes snapped open as the red-haired girl began to cackle. You peeked your head out from behind Coryo, trying to get a better look. 

Her head was thrown back in mock-amusement, another man, Billy (maybe?), trying to calm her down, a hand on her shoulder. 

She saw you peeking around, and as she took in your hair, your eyes, and your figure, realization dawned on her. There was no one as pretty as you in Twelve. Probably in all of the districts! You weren’t a district girl, no way. 

“Oh! It’s the Capitol Princess! I should’ve known! Billy, why don’t you try to bed that songbird too, huh? Or I can just tell my Daddy about –” she shut up at the sound of a gunshot, Spruce had shot at the ceiling, causing you to jump and shriek. You hated the violence. 

“Spruce!” the other man yelled at him, back to the other girl. There was fire burning behind her eyes, and you finally recognized her as the girl that Lucy Gray had attacked with a snake at the reaping. You understood now. She really was insufferable. 

“Control your woman, Billy Taupe.” 

With that, Billy turned around, reaching out for the girl. “Mayfair, just settle down. The girl ain’t gonna say a thing…” you had no idea what was going on, your vision still slightly blocked. 

“Sejanus, what were you thinking?” Coryo roars, the anger in his voice would’ve made you cower if you were on the receiving end. 

You slowly began to peek out from Coryo, hand on his lower back as you tucked yourself into his side, his hand instinctively wrapping around you. 

“They told me it was for supplies! Not guns! I didn’t know, I swear–” 

“And you trusted them?” 

Coryo sounds the angriest you’ve ever heard him. You look up at his face, eyes softening as you read it as fear. He was scared. 

“Coryo,” you coo, hand rubbing his hip. The second his eyes locked down on you, he was calm, trying to steady his breathing. 

“Sejanus,” your voice was soft, cutting through the thick tension in the room. Sej looked at you, and you saw how upset he was. 

“We’ll go to Percy. He can fix this, I promise,” 

But you spoke too soon, because Mayfair was now yelling again, this time straight in your direction. And then you realized your mistake.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re related to Major Percy Mars too? Oh this will be so good. Just wait until my daddy hears that a Capitol Mars girl is an accomplice! You’re all–” her words were cut off when Coryo lunged for one of the guns sitting in the middle table, lifting it up and firing it directly into the middle of Mayfair’s chest. You yelped, jumping backwards into Coryo’s open arms, him bringing your face into his chest, shielding you from the blood pouring onto the floor. 

You heard screams, likely from the Billy boy, and then Spruce trying to resonate with him. Sejanus’s laboring breathing was loud, and you tried to focus on your own as you heard the men around you fight. 

“You killed her,” Billy spoke, and you finally looked up, tear brimmed eyes meeting Coryo’s. He placed his hands on either side of your face, crouching so your noses were touching. 

“Hey, listen to me. We’re gonna be fine, alright. I’m not gonna let anyone touch you,” 

His words settled you, and you nodded, turning your head slightly to the sound of Billy’s raised voice. 

“You think you’re gonna walk away free from this? I don’t think so, Capitol Pretty Boy. If I swing, you’re swinging with me,” 

Another gunshot, you covered your ears, watching Billy Taupe fall to the floor next to his Mayfair. 

“I didn’t trust him anyways,” Spruce shrugged, slinging the gun over his shoulder. 

Coryo was moving fast, wrapping the guns that Sejanus paid for into a large duffle bag, and shoved it into Spruce’s arms. 

“Get rid of these, Spruce, go!” and Spruce was running out the room, disappearing into the darkness outside. 

You were shaking, staring at the two dead bodies on the floor, blood pouring out in what seemed never-ending quantities. 

Coryo’s hands were on your shoulders, leading you out of the room. He was shouting things at Sejanus over his shoulder, but the ringing in your ears wouldn’t let you focus on what he was saying.  

When you re-entered the bar, Lucy Gray watched with confused eyes as Coryo lead you away, a shaken Sejanus following. Coryo’s protective grip was the only thing you could focus on the entire walk back to the Peacekeeper barracks. 

Finally when you returned, Coryo sent Sejanus straight to their bunks and walked you to your shared room with your siblings. 

“Don’t tell them anything,” Coryo whispered, frantic eyes searching your features for a sign of distress. You nodded, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“I wasn’t gonna let them hurt you, Y/N.” 

You looked up at him, wide and glossy eyes meeting his stern ones. Ice cold but softening when they saw your fear. 

“I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he left a haste kiss to your lips, which you barely had time to process before Percy was opening the door, saying goodnight to Coryo, and pulling you into the room. 

He hadn’t liked the idea of you going out in the first place, so there was no way you were going to tell him what happened in the small back room of the dreary bar you were in. 

They could tell something was wrong, but they didn’t push it. Persephone took Coryo’s presence as more than an answer and helped you undress and get into bed.

You kept Coryo’s secret and screwed your mouth shut, answering their surface-level question with one-word, assuring them you were fine, just tired. 

They finally left you alone and you rolled onto your side, facing the wall. You didn’t sleep a second that night. 

The next morning you awoke from loud yelling outside your door, Percy quick to his feet to examine what was the matter. 

He was out there for a few moments before rushing back in, words spilling from his mouth, “Dress quickly, they’ve found rebels and we all must attend.” 

You got out of bed, fearing that they had found out about Coriolanus and Sejanus. You pulled on a white skirt and light pink blouse, slipped into the boots you wore last night, and didn't bother to do your hair or makeup. 

Percy had a protective hand on your shoulder as the three of you made your way to the District Square, you couldn’t help but think the worst. You knew they had done something punishable by death, but was it possible that Spruce had been caught immediately? It was the Peacekeeper’s night off, there were none on duty. How could they have found the guns that quickly? 

Peacekeepers situated the three of you in the front, your hand intwined with Persephone’s. You spotted Coryo in front of the stage and you smiled, a relieved laugh falling from your lips. Percy looked down at you, bewildered, and you managed to squeak out an excuse. The last thing you needed was to involve your Major brother. 

Coryo’s face was stiff, but he met your eye and nodded to you, acknowledging that everything would be okay. You strained your neck looking for Sejanus, wanting to make sure he was alright too. But he was nowhere in sight. 

Commander Hoff took the stage, and you saw Spruce standing on his other side, your entire face dropping. “No..” you whispered out, Percy’s harsh gaze shutting you up. 

“Three years, I fought for the Capitol during the war. I’ve been angry, but this is the first time I’ve felt ashamed…Get the other one up here!” and then you knew. You knew that Sejanus had been caught. 

Two Peacekeepers pushed their way through the audience, Sejanus’s beat up body being held up in between them. 

“No!” you shrieked as he passed you, Percy’s arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from chasing after him. 

Everyone turned to look. The Capitol Princess throwing a fit over a Peacekeeper being a traitor. They wondered why you weren’t shot on sight for thrashing in the arms of another Peacekeeper. 

“Let him go! Let him go!” you wailed and kicked Percy with your legs as he held you back into his chest, Persephone’s hand slapping over your mouth to keep you quiet. 

You reached out your hands to grab Sejanus, but then moved them down to Percy’s arms to unravel them from your body. 

Coryo winced as your sobs echoed from the mouths of the mockingjays, large tears spilling from your eyes and falling to the ground. 

You heard as Sejanus called out for Coryo while he was being pulled up the stairs, and then onto the stage as the noose was wrapped around his neck. 

Persephone instinctively removed her hand when you bit down on it, once again screaming for your friend. 

“Please, Sejanus! No!” Everyone ignored you, heads hung low as your blood-curdling weeps were heard for miles. 

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” you insisted, another Peacekeeper coming to help Percy keep you restrained. You knew this would make its way back to the Capitol somehow, but you didn’t care. Your father and President Ravinstill would excuse it for the sympathy of a dear friend, and pardon you. But as you watched Sejanus struggle for his life, you wished you could do something greater to help. 

“The Capitol has received word via jabberjay that these two men conspired to break into our base’s jail and flee north. To release this terrorist from captivity,” the Commander motioned behind him to a woman, one you didn’t recognize. 

You looked around, everyone stone-faced and silent. You didn’t understand how they could all be bystanders, but then understood that their death’s meant much less than yours did. In the eyes of the President and Capitol anyways. 

“I’d expect this from a rebel, but not from one of our own. This is treason, plain and simple!” 

Then, a loud recording sounded out, Sejanus’s voice filled your senses. For the first time in what felt like eternity, you looked at Coryo, tears slightly overlapping your vision. He was breathing heavily, slightly shaking. Sejanus began to scream for Coryo again, and you had to turn away, face in Percy’s chest. 

He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you closer. Then the stage gave, and you heard the loud cracks as the three of their neck’s gave out. You shuddered and felt Percy pick you up into his arms and push through the crowd, heading back for the base. 

He’d probably scold you for making such a scene, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that Sejanus was dead, and it was likely your fault. 

When you finally got back to the room, Percy laid you on your bed, silent as he paced the room, tugging at his hair. The Plinth’s were your closest family friends. Sejanus’s death hit the three of you hard. Persephone immediately went to the phone, dialing your mother, small whimpers falling from her lips. 

You cried into your pillow, soaking it with salty tears. You heard ruffling around, assuming Percy was packing up all your bags, not wanting to disturb your mourning. 

You had eventually dozed off, but were woken by Persephone lightly shaking you awake. “Coriolanus Snow is at the door for you,” she lightly smiled, no anger or annoyance dripped in her words. You supposed she was being kind about Coryo due to the day’s earlier events. 

You nodded, pushing up off the bed, and made your way to the door. 

And there Coryo was, stoic as ever. He immediately pulled you into his arms, stroking your hair with his hand while the other was tight around your waist. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he murmured, letting you whimper into his chest. He would never tell you that he sent the mockingjay, that Sejanus’s blood was on his hands. You would never forgive him. 

When you pulled back, you spotted the necklace that you had given Sejanus hanging around Coryo’s neck, where it should be. You had originally bought it for him, but felt it shouldn’t go to waste. 

Coryo watched as you ran your fingers over the solid gold, tracing the red ruby. 

“He gave it to me, last night,” Coryo whispered. 

“He saw the way you clung to me, and knew, I guess. Said it should belong to me. And I couldn’t argue with him there.” 

“He was right,” you whispered, finally cracking a smile. 

He let you relish in the happiness for a moment, before lightly crouching to be at your level. 

“Lucy Gray found out where the gun is. The one used on Mayfair. I’m going with her to get rid of it, and then I’ll be back. No loose ends.” You nodded at his words, but extremely afraid. 

“Does that mean Lucy Gray too?” you held the cold gold in your hands, the refreshing chill calming your senses. 

“I…I haven’t decided yet. I don’t think she’s a threat, but you never know, I suppose.” 

You didn’t think Lucy Gray should die, not anymore. She hadn’t really done anything wrong, just survived. You felt bad for her more than anything. 

“Don’t hurt her unless you have to, Coryo. All she’s done is survive.” Coryo nodded at your words and pulled you into his chest, your lips connecting. 

An unspoken goodbye, in case he didn’t return. 

“I love you,” you pulled away from him, hand running through his buzzed hair. 

“I love you more,”

You’d find out later that night that Lucy Gray had been “taken care of” in Coryo’s words, and soon you were sitting next to him on the train home, fingers playing with his as you neared the Capitol entrance.

10 years later…

Lucky Flickerman stood atop the glimmering stage, Coriolanus on his left side, and Festus Creed on his other. 

You and Tigris sat in the front row, hands enclosed around each other. Yours and Coryo’s four-year-old son is on your other side, he is dressed in a sharp deep blue suit and his blond hair slicked back. He looks just like Coriolanus, holding your hand and swaying his feet out of impatience in his seat. 

His name is Apollo Crassus Snow, and his name precedes him. He is like a ball of sunshine, always smiley and begging you to sing for him. He reminded you just of his father when he was that age.

“And now I am pleased to announce the final round of votes is in!” Lucky exclaims, looking over to Coryo who offers him a charming smile, eyes flickering down to you in the audience. You offer him a beaming smile, assuring him that you’ll be with him, no matter what happens. 

What feels like a torturously long few minutes as Lucky asks Coryo and Festus each their last few questions, he finally turns to the audience, and announces what everyone has been waiting for. 

“I am proud to announce the President-Elect for Panem is… Coriolanus Snow!” 

Clapping breaks out in the large amphitheater, and a grin takes over your features, watching as Coriolanus waves out to the crowd, a broad smile upon his lips. 

“As my first duty as president of Panem, I’d like to invite my magnificent wife and son up on stage,” he is as charming as ever, extending his hand to where you and Apollo sit in the front row. 

Apollo is up immediately, holding his little hand out for you to take. The audience oohs-and-awes as you take his hand, laughing as your little boy leads you up the stairs. 

Your white dress trails along the ground. It was an exact replica of the dress you wore for your first ever performance, just colored as white as snow, as Coriolanus had stated. 

The two of you make it up the stairs, and Coriolanus scoops Apollo up into his arms, setting him onto his hip, and pulling you tight against his other side, a hand wrapping around your waist. 

His deep-scarlet colored three-piece suit mixes perfectly with yours and Apollo’s outfits, the Snow family looking like perfect Panem royalty.

You beam and wave out to the crowd, acting like the perfect First Lady. 

Apollo waves as well, his hand going wild. You and Coriolanus giggle at your son, the perfect first-child of Panem. He was beautiful, like a little model, and his spirit made him magnetic. 

You were so lucky. 

Coriolanus then slightly leans forward to once again speak into the microphone, thanking the crowd for believing in him from the beginning and giving him the prestigious responsibility of ruling the ever-flourishing Panem. 

When he leans back, the crowd erupts into the loudest applause you’ve ever heard, and you all wave goodbye before being escorted off the stage and into the banquet hall, where the Presidential Gala would now be held. 

That night, after you and Coriolanus tucked Apollo into his new majestic room, the two of you curled into your new bedroom, a large four-poster bed with golden tapestries around each side. 

The walls were tall and painted a dark red, gold piping along the many walls. Different portraits hung around the room, but the one above your bed, that Coriolanus had made sure was the first installed, included the portrait he commissioned after Apollo’s birth. 

You sat in the middle, a long silk dress hanging off your immaculate figure. Coriolanus stood behind you, a hand pressed to your shoulder, and the other supporting the child you cradled in your arms. It was his favorite, showcasing the most important things in his life. 

You laid against his chest, playing with the gold embalm that laid against his heart, your initial traced into it. 

“Darling,” his voice cuts you out out your trance, and you look up, meeting his eyes. 

“I have something for you,” he smiles, reaching over to his nightstand. 

“Oh, Coriolanus, it’s your day, you don’t need to give me anything..” your words trail off as he opens the small black velvet case, revealing the most ornate and beautiful ruby ring you had ever seen. 

Coryo had stuck to his promise, gifting you a new, and more expensive, ruby ring for every one of your birthdays. They gained size each year, and began to be cut into more complex shapes and sizes. 

This one was huge, shimmering from the moonlight streaming in. A halo of diamonds surrounded the large oval-shaped stone, with another halo of sapphires behind the small diamonds. 

You were speechless, mouth agape as you stared at the ring. The last piece of jewelry you had received that even compared to this one was your engagement ring, which was the biggest diamond ever crafted in Panem’s history. 

Coryo wiped the stray tear that slipped from your eye, and then took your hand, slipping the heavy ring onto your middle finger. 

“It’s beautiful, Coryo,” you smiled, admiring the beautiful creation. 

“This is all for you, my love. And I never want you to forget it.” 

*

tagged

@snowsgames @mrsjobarnes

[billythesimp]

Never Judge a Film By Its Cover

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...

Thank you for the request Client_Clover! I hope this is too you liking, I've never done work like this when it comes to basing interactions off of aesthetic/genres.

Wise w/ gothic-alternative-sweetheart! reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙

Tagging: ☘️ anon

tw: none

⋈ Wise is used to all kinds of people in both kinds of works, whether it’s helping a client in the hollows or approaching a customer to recommend a new tape they figured would be to their liking. No matter the person, he is able to adapt to their personality and knows that better than to judge a person by their looks. He has an eye for these kinds of things, picking up on the littlest details of his customers which makes him a great salesman when it comes to film options. 

⋈ When he started taking an interest on one of the regular at the shop, he was thrown for a loop when he first laid his eyes on them. In a way, they reminded him of Ellen a bit, a very low energy personality who looked around the place with hooded eyes and a ‘Don’t approach me’ attitude. Their clothing choice was also interesting to say the least, wearing different monochromatic articles that could run from looking like a mess of nets and off-shoulder tops to high waisted skirts paired with long trench coat vibes.

⋈ Of course, the many times they come by they only view the tapes and even are with a group of friends from the looks, everyone being the complete opposite of what they seem like, cheerful and bubbly they stand out with a serious case of RBF. [Resting-Bitch-Face] But that makes him even more intrigued, who is this person and what are they like. How do they attract such bright people despite their gloomy-gothic approach? He figures this out one day when they come into his shop looking for something, walking out of the staff only room to find them at the counter.

▿

“Oh, sorry for the wait. Could I help you with something?” 

They only scratch at their cheek, eyes wandering away from Wise’s gaze before presenting a film in hand. “Uh, yeah. Could I rent out this tape?” He only looked down at the tape in question, the genre surprising him to say the least. “Oh sure. Just Oh~ Sweetie today?” The nervously nod, a faint blush painting their cheeks like dapped out watercolors. He rang it up, smiling to himself before handing over the tape. 

“Alright, you’re all set. The return policy is usually a week from today, but feel free to drop by anytime before then. There’s a fee for late returns, but feel free to call the store if you have any questions. Thank you for your business.” Their eyes gleamed in excitement as they held the case in hand, Wise could almost see the sparkles emitting off of them before they waved him bye with a sheepish smile blessing his vision. Once out the store, he could only stare before smiling to himself again.

⋈ Since then, he is always greeting them while also discussing new films that would be to their liking. Mainly ranging from rom-coms to fantasy-adventure, he has gotten to knowing them to the point where they’ve become close friends. Wise enjoys their conversations as they always mention their favorite part of the tapes; he recommends them with childlike innocence, glowing brightly with a cheerful disposition. They invite him out sometimes when he’s clocked out for break, treating him to noodles or listening to some new records across the street. Another place they are a regular at, learning more about their interesting taste in music that fits their aesthetic.

▿

He’s asked about your lifestyle once, giving him a nervous response while twiddling with your fingers. “Ah, well, I get that question a lot. I always had a fascination with gothic fashion and the aesthetic as a whole, so I wanted to express my love for the art form by wearing what I found comfortable. People are surprised when I mention that, but many people I’ve met say that it’s really cool, so I continue to express myself freely- sorry, I’m probably rambling now.” Your yapping slowing into a nonsensible muttering which Wise assures them that he doesn’t mind it one bit.

“Well, I think you're pretty- neat! It’s pretty neat, so I can’t argue with you on that.” He nodded along, seeing how they only skipped beside him with renewed confidence. “Thank you, Wise!”

⋈ Whenever he’s out and about, should he spot them in their usual circle or looming over a display alone, despite the aura they have hovering over them he still makes it a habit to call out to them. The moment before and after they spot him makes his heart flutter, how they look over with a subtle glare before perking up and grinning cheekily and waving him over. Really, it’s a sight to behold.

⋈ Maybe one day they’ll be more than friends, but neither of them would admit it. No number of soft touches and gentle smiles will push them to confess their little attraction to one another. So for now they’ll cuddle up on his bed while watching another film. As friends, yeah really close friends.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

He's a Phantom

whumptober23 day 27- let me see fandom- dp x dc TW- brief injury summary- Jason encounters the GIW

ao3 whumptober23 masterlist part 6 of DLM

They had been searching for an hour when Jason heard a commotion. He approached the noise and saw three men in white suits on the neighboring rooftop. 

His first thought was that they must be out of towners and that they were stupid to be wearing all white. His second thought was, oh shoot, they’re carrying weapons. Specifically they had weird, glowing green weapons.

He was about to call it in when all three men turned to him, raised their weapons and fired.

Jason rolled out of the way and took out his own guns as he continued to dodge their shots.

He fires off a few shots of his own and manages to hit one of the agent’s legs. But he doesn’t have time to celebrate this victory since immediately after one of the glowing green beams hits him in the shoulder. 

It burns. Jason stumbles back trying to avoid the rest of the shots, but another clips his side and another his leg. He crumples to the ground. It feels like acid eating away at him. His mind is going fuzzy with pain.

He needs to call for help.

He can faintly hear them discussing how best to get to where he is. He can’t let them do that. 

Shakily, he activates his comm. “O.”

“What is it, Hood?”

“I think— I think I found our bad guys…” he slurs.

“Hood, what do you mean?”

Jason can’t bring himself to answer. HIs whole body feels like it’s burning.

“Hood! I’m sending Nightwing to your location.”

Jason can’t acknowledge her. He hopes his brother gets here soon. He can hear the agents walking up the fire escape.

He tries to get up again, but he can barely move his arms.

Then he hears a shout and the sound of the weapons being fired again. There’s a buzzing in the air, the faint hum of electricity, and the cold bite of winter wind.

There’s the sound of more fighting, and he can hear the agents cursing. There’s what sounds like crackling ice followed by silence. Jason tries to move his head to see what’s happening, but all he sees is smoggy Gotham sky.

Then there's a face above him, ethereal in quality with glowing white hair and eyes that remind Jason of the Lazarus pit but brighter.

“What are you doing here?” The voice sounds familiar, but Jason can’t quite place why. He should know this person, but he knows he’s never seen anyone quite like this.

The kid, because now that Jason looks at him a little closer this person clearly looks young, sighs, and goes to place his hands on Jason.

Jason makes a noise of protest and tries to shift away.

“Calm down, let me see.” his hands settle on Jason’s torso.

Immediately, a cool feeling begins to spread, easing the worst of the pain.

“Who…” he manages before.

The kid gives him a strange look then focuses back on whatever he’s doing to Jason. “It’s me. Danny.” 

Jason’s mind blue screens for a moment. This looks nothing like Danny. But then, Jason looks a little closer, looks past the glow and white hair and green eyes, and he sees that the face is the same. Huh. 

“I’m going to take you back to your apartment. There’s not much I can do for your injuries in the middle of a rooftop.”

Jason can’t do anything to resist as the kid scoops him up as if Jason weighed almost nothing. Then a tingling sensation passed over him, and then they were flying.

--------------------------

A few minutes later, Nightwing arrives on an empty roof. “O, I don’t see him.”

There’s silence for a moment before she speaks. “His tracker is on the move, but it’s moving strangely. Almost as if… It’s almost as if he’s flying.”

“What?” Dick asks and then he hears a grunt from beside the building. He walks over to the edge and stares. 

There on the fire escape are three men dressed in white suits carrying strange weapons. But even stranger is that they’re all frozen in a thick layer of ice to the escape stairs, with the ice encasing them to their elbow and a thin layer over their mouths.

“I think we’ve got a bigger situation. I just found some men dressed in white suits frozen to the fire escape. And they've got some strange weapons.”

“Do you think they’re the agents after Hood’s kid?” Tim asks.

“Might be.” Dick answers.

“This might be good news.” Oracle says. “Nightwing, Hood’s tracker stopped at his apartment. I want you to head over there. Red Robin, head to the possible agent’s location. Try to figure out what you can and see if we need to call the police. I’ll send a message to B. His meeting at the watchtower should be almost over by now anyway.”

“Will do,” Dick and Tim answer.

Hopefully, they can find Jason and the kid, and this situation won’t escalate any further. But Dick has a bad feeling that things will only get more complicated.

[yutafrita]

AN ANGEL, MY ANGEL, AND ME {PREVIEW}

Teaser /// 1 /// 2 /// 3

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Fallen Angel!Sungchan x Reader (she/her)

Preview WC: 712

Preview TW: Mentions of an arrest, discussions and depictions of food/ eating, sexual scenarios and innuendos, religious imagery and references

Story Synopsis: Finding out your best friend is a guardian angel is pretty mind numbing. It only gets worse when you find out a Fallen Angel has been hiding in your apartment for two years. You think your life can’t get any weirder, until you start lying about being married to keep your new job.

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“I was thinking,” you popped out from your room in your work clothes, holding a thin gold chain you never wore. “Maybe wearing something I own might help mask you in public. So you can leave without needing me.”

Your line of thinking was, if Sungchan was able to hide in your apartment without being found by the troop, then there was a chance he didn’t need you around at all times to stay safe. He turned around, spatula in hand as he furrowed his eyebrow. He was in the midst of cooking pancakes, and the faint hint of smoke reminded him of this before he turned back to face the stove and flip them.

“Are you kicking me out?”

“What? Of course not. I just figured you’d want actual independence even though you’re on the lam.”

“On the what?”

“On the lam? Running from the troops?” You elaborated. Sungchan had yet to disclose more information regardingthe warrant for his arrest, but you hadn’t really pressed much. You two had a solid cohabitating, co-existing, thing going and you really didn’t want to push your luck.

Sungchan slipped the pancakes onto the two plates he had set up before turning to face you. He seemed hesitant, and you went to further assuage his nerves.

“I… I think you’d like not having to rely on me to go around on your own.”

He seemed to mull it over before nodding and adding, “I haven’t been able to fly in a while.”

“Then it’s settled- try leaving the apartment while I’m at work and text me how it goes,” you moved closer then, holding the chain for him to see. You had gotten Sungchan a simple phone to use so you both could more easily communicate, and he seemed pleased with the device.

You kicked over your step stool as Sungchan turned back around. He tucked his wings slightly to give you easier access as you clipped the small chain around his neck. You never really wore it, but from the small glint it gave as it now sat on the collar of the Fallen Angel, it felt like it was really meant for him.

Standing slightly above him now, you looked closely at his wings. They were mostly black, with glints of gold and gray splattered at random places. The wings spanned all of his back, stopping just at his calf, and the feathers looked insanely soft.

“Everything okay?” Sungchan’s question snapped you back to reality.

“Um… can I ask something?”

“Yeah!” he turned back around, a smile on his face. He loved asking you questions, so it was as if he was excited to answer something for you.

“Can,” you sighed, embarrassed, “can I touch your wings?”

He raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the question.

“Sorry, I was just really curious,” you admitted, scratching the back of your neck.

“Y-yeah, go ahead,” he turned his back to you again, “I don’t think they’re anything special, though.”

You scoffed lightly before gently raising your hand, and caressing one of his wings. It was softer than anything you had ever touched before, and for a moment you swore the entire world went silent as you felt just how delicate they were. You caressed it again, before you heard Sungchan’s breath hitch and then a small whine followed before your whole body froze.

“Sungchan, are you okay?” you removed your hand, confused by his reaction. On the back of his neck and ears you could see his skin turning red. You stepped down from your position of height, stepping back to grab the syrup before noting that Sungchan still hadn’t moved.

“Are you embarrassed or something?” you were joking, but the angel looked over his shoulder and wings to glare at you, his whole face now tinted in red.

“Wings are… really… sensitive,” he admitted, emphasizing ‘sensitive’ heavily before it clicked. He hadn’t turned around yet because he was hiding what you apparently accidentally caused.

“Oh shoot I’m gonna be late for work,” you lied, ignoring the pancakes and rushing out of the apartment with your work bag and phone. You wanted to think as little about the accidental arousal you caused to your roommate, and forced yourself to ignore it as you took the train to work.

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Permatag! @nini0620

An Angel, my Angel, and me tags! @cherriruto @deonuism @lesserahyuck

If you would like to be added to the tag list feel free to lmk <3

[nvoirs]

do you mind writing something for leon comforting his gf after having a nightmare.. like he stirs awake because he can just sense something is wrong

tw: suicide in reader's dream.

Everything was covered in darkness, you could barely make your way forward as you stumbled and felt for the wall on your left. You gritted your teeth, but froze when you saw a faint light. The faint light of a street lamp. A figure stood a ways ahead, and you rushed to make any verbal discussion because you were going crazy in seclusion. A familiar face turned to you and you halted your rapid steps.

“Leon?”

Confused and cocking your brow he sadly smiled at you before stepping off the high cliff that magically crafted itself inside your punctured brain.

“Leon no!”

You woke up sweaty, your heart hammering so hard you were scared it would slip out. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, leaning against the headboard swiftly. You looked around wildly before your eyes settled onto the sleeping figure of your lover. Leon. He was okay, you shakily sighed as you stroked his hair softly. His right hand clutching onto your thigh, smiling you slowly removed it as you got ready to leave the bed.

“Where are you going?” he softly called voice slurred with sleep.

“Nowhere Leon, just need some water.”

By now he’d sat up to face you, a concerned expression creasing his features. “Don’t lie to me,” he pleaded. “Your water is untouched.” he indicated to the full glass of water that sat on top of your bedside draw.

“Talk to me.” he grabbed both of your hands, massaging your fingers efficiently.

“It was just a dumb nightmare that’s all.” You mumbled, swiping the sneaky tear that had made its way down the apple of your cheek.

“Baby you're crying, come here.” Leon pulled you towards his broad chest shushing you as he left soft, tender kisses along your temple, dabbing away the salty fat tears that kept escaping your glassy eyes with a crumpled tissue.

After around ten minutes of Leon successfully calming you down, he mumbled into the shell of your ear. “Gonna tell me what you saw in that nightmare of yours?” You swallowed the lump in your throat, brushing the strewn, messy hair away from your shoulders as you surveyed him frightened.

“I’d rather not Leon, It was just.. Silly really.” Leon was a stubborn man when he wanted to be, and right now he was going to use his stubbornness on you. He needed to know what you saw in this negative dream of yours, so he could crush all the bullshit it spewed inside your delicate mind.

“Trust me, If you talk It out you’ll feel better.” You bit your lip at his warm words, releasing a heavy sigh you took one of his hands starting to play with his fingers. Leon loved this gesture so much, you using him to fiddle with was so cute.

You managed to choke out the last words about your sinister nightmare, and Leon’s eyes widened at your ending words. “No way.. You really think I would jump? Seriously? That’s not happening, I would never do that to you, ever.” Leon clasped his hands in your own trembling ones, and he squeezed reassuringly before leaning down noses nuzzling as he left a love drunk kiss upon your sweet lips. “Bad dreams.. Well all dreams, no matter good or bad, tend to erase themselves from our minds. So don’t worry my love your safe here”

You pouted, “Okay dream expert I’ll take your word for it.” You slid under the covers an exhausted moan leaving your open lips, Leon joined you underneath as you cuddled into his side.

“Mm baby, you want to order something to eat?” Leon yawned.

“What places are going to be open at 7am on a weekend Leon.” You giggled, poking his nose.

“Don’t worry I know a few.” He replied, pinching your nose in return.

“Hmm okay, If my oneirologist says so.” You both laughed, sinking into the softness of the covers once more.

[2012wannabe]

silent beginnings 6

wc: 2518

cw/tw: discussions of stillborn and pregnancy, loss of baby/child, doctors

You both arrive at the doctors office together, the faint sound of a soft female voice greeting patients wafting out into the hall. Abby gives you a gentle nudge encouragingly, and you step inside. You walk up the counter,

“I'm checking in, last name Anderson for 10:00.” The receptionist looked up as you approached, her expression pleasant and professional. She gives us a small smile and a nod.

"Of course, Ms. Anderson. The doctor will be with you momentarily. Please wait right here and a nurse will come and get you."

“Thank you.” Abby takes a seat next to you in the waiting room, her hand resting gently on your thigh as she gives it a light squeeze. She can feel the tension and nervousness rolling off of you and gives you a small reassuring smile. She leans in close and speaks lowly.

"It's going to be okay, baby. Everything is going to be just fine."

“I know but I'm just nervous, but I'm glad I get to see Dr. Patel. She's really nice and I feel very comfortable talking to her.” Abby nods in agreement, her hand still rubbing soothingly against your thigh. She can see the uncertainty in your eyes, the way you're bouncing your leg up and down anxiously. She leans in closer, bringing her mouth to your ear so she's speaking almost in a whisper.

"I understand why you're nervous, and that's okay. Just remember that I'm right here with you, ok? I’ll be here the entire time." You hear your name called and get up nervously, looking at abby. She stands up next to you, keeping a warm, reassuring smile on her face. She can see the nervousness written all over your expression, and she gives you a gentle nudge towards the door.

"Come on. You got this." You take a deep breathe and start to walk into the exam room. The room you enter is fairly standard, a few examination tools on the counter and a few medical pamphlets on various topics along the wall above the exam bed. Abby follows closely behind you, standing just behind your shoulder as you wait for Dr. Patel to arrive. The nurse takes your vitals but all you can pay attention to is the loud beating of your heart. After a moment, the door to the room opens and Dr. Patel enters, her smile warm and familiar as she walks in.

"Ah, Ms. Anderson, it's good to see you again."

“Hi Dr.Patel.” She smiles kindly as she walks over to you, holding a file in her hands.

"Take a seat on the bed for me, please," she says, gesturing to the exam bed in the middle of the room. Once you're seated, she takes a comfortable seat on her own small wheeled chair.

"So, what brings you in today?"

“Um well I was wondering if you'd be able to tell how safe it would be for me to get pregnant again.” Dr. Patel nods, a small look of understanding on her face. She opens your file and glances through the information contained within.

"Of course, that's certainly a valid question. Given the nature of your recovery, it depends on a few different factors. Let's talk a bit more about your healing process. How have you been recovering since the incident? Any pain or discomfort left in your abdomen?"

“No.” Dr. Patel makes a note in your folder, visibly pleased with your answer.

"That's wonderful news, I'm very glad to hear it. And how long has it been since you were cleared to be up and moving around again?"

“My bed rest ended after two weeks but this one has had me taking it easy for way longer.” She laughs a little at your comment, a knowing smile on her face. She closes your file and sets it on the counter behind her, turning back to look at you.

"I can imagine. Well, given that your abdominal muscles and reproductive organs are still in the process of fully healing, it would be best if you waited at least another three or four months absolute minimum before trying again. That allows for the best chances of a safe pregnancy with minimal complications."

“Oh ok.”

"I know that might not be the answer you were hoping for, and and I'm aware that you probably don't want to wait any longer than necessary. But trust me, it's better to ensure your body is fully healed before trying again.Otherwise, you could risk a lot of complications, both for you and the baby."

“And recovery aside I know the doctors at the hospital said it would be... risky. It was suggested to me to get a hysterectomy but I refused.” Dr. Patel nods again, her expression turning more grave. She obviously knows the details of your situation, and she looks empathetic as she speaks.

"I'm aware of the risks involved, and I understand why the doctors in the hospital were concerned enough to recommend a hysterectomy. But I think I know you well enough to know that you'd never agree to something like that."

“Yeah.” She sighs softly, her expression turning more serious.

"If I may ask, why are you so insistent on trying again? It's a question I must ask. I'm not trying to talk you out of it, I just want to understand your reasoning. There are a lot of risks involved with this pregnancy, and I wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger needlessly."

“We want a family. I want us to have to a kid even though it didn't exactly work out the first time.” Dr. Patel nods, her expression sympathetic and understanding.

"I understand that, and it's wonderful that you both have that desire. But I must stress the importance of considering all the risks involved. There's a high likelihood that complications could arise during the pregnancy, and I wouldn't want you to put your life in danger just to satisfy your desire for a child."

“What do you mean by high likelihood?”You say starting to get a bit flustered.

“Would it be safe for me to get pregnant?” She takes a deep breath, her expression more serious now. She knows this is a difficult conversation, but also an important one.

"There's no other way to put it, the rate of complications for someone in your situation is much higher than average. The risk of everything from preterm labor to miscarriage are greatly raised. And that's not even accounting for the health risks of your first birth."

“But it's possible?” Dr. Patel exhales slowly, her expression conflicted.

"Yes, it's possible. I won't lie to you,the odds aren't great, but the possibility is there. However, I want you to understand that the risks involved are significant, and the chance of something going wrong is much higher than it should be. I'm not saying you can't get pregnant, but I'm advising you to be fully aware of what you could be facing." You take a deep breathe before saying,

“Taking what I want out of the equation, what is your recommendation as a medical professional?” Dr. Patel looks at you for a moment, studying your expression closely. After a moment she speaks her voice gentle but firm.

“As a medical professional, I strongly recommend that you consider alternative options to conception. Adoption, foster care, or even surrogacy are all viable possibilities that would eliminate the immense risk factor involved in your situation. I understand that you want a family, and that's an admirable goal. But I want you to prioritize your health and safety, and the potential risks are simply too great."

“But there still is a possibility of it going well?”

“Yes, there is a possibility of it going well. But the chance of that happening is much smaller than it should be. I can't give you exact numbers, but you have to understand the risks involved here. I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to discourage you, because I understand how badly you want to have a child. But your health is my primary concern, and I need you to understand that this isn't a decision to be made lightly."

“Ok.” You say looking down. Dr. Patel gently places a hand on your shoulder, her expression sympathetic.

"I know this isn't what you wanted to and I understand that it's difficult to accept. This isn't me telling you that you can never have a child, and it's not me saying that you shouldn't keep trying. This is just me making sure you're aware of the consequences of your decisions, and giving you the information you need to make an informed choice."

“I know and I appreciate you for that.” You say starting to tear up. She smiles gently, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"Hey, it's okay. No need to cry, I understand how emotional this can be. It's only natural that you'd be upset by this news, especially with how badly you want a family. But I want you to know that you're not alone in this process, and whatever decision you make, I'm here to support you through it." You nod and watch as she exits the room. As soon as she leaves you start to sob putting your head in your hands. Abby immediately moves to sit down on the bed next to you, her expression full of worry and concern as she wraps her arms around you in an attempt to comfort you. She holds you tight, gently rubbing your back as you sob into your hands.

"Hey, hey, it's okay...it's gonna be okay...”

“No it's not. You heard her.” You hiccup.

Abby's heart breaks as she sees you falling apart in front of her, but she does her best to keep it together to try and comfort you.

"No, hey, listen to me..." She pulls you against her, holding you tightly as she speaks in an attempt to soothe you.

"It's gonna be okay, I swear. I know it's hard, I know you're upset, but we'll figure it out. We'll get through this together, okay?"

You nod still crying, snot starting to drop from your nose. Abby gently grabs a tissue off the counter and wipes some of the snot from your face, attempting to help you clean up and calm down at least somewhat.

"There you go, deep breaths... It's gonna be fine." She holds you close to her, continuing to rub your back and speak softly, trying to help you stop crying. You take a deep breath trying to calm down she holds you tighter in her arms, still comforting you as she continues speaking softly.

"That's it, just breathe... I'm right here, okay? We'll figure this out together. No matter what happens." You nod collapsing into her embrace and she continues to rub your back and speak soothingly, trying to comfort you as best as she can.

"There you go, let it out. It's okay to be upset, I know this is difficult. But I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." You start to fully calm down and abby helps you up to leave the room, still holding you close to her.

"Come on, let's go home. You don't need to be here anymore."

“Ok.” Abby leads you out of the building and walks you back to the car, still holding your hand. After a few minutes, she turns to you,

"How are you feeling?"

“Sad.” Abby nods slowly, her expression full of understanding and sadness as she opens the passenger door and lets you get in first before getting into the car herself. As she starts the car and begins driving, she glances over at you again, continuing to speak gently.

"I know you're sad, it's completely understandable... I wish there was something more I could say or do to make you feel better."

“Me too.” You whisper,

“but there's nothing either of can do.”

Abby nods, her heart breaking as she hears the sadness in your voice. She continues driving, keeping her hand on the wheel but stealing glances at you every few seconds. After a moment she responds in a soft voice,

"I know. And that sucks... I hate seeing you like this, and not being able to do anything to make it better."

“I still want to try.” Abby takes a deep breath as she hears your words, her heart still aching for you. But she knows that your determination to keep trying comes from your deep desire for a family.

"I know you do. And I understand why you want to keep trying. But you heard what Dr. Patel said, the risk is just too high. I don't want to see you put yourself through that, especially with a high chance of it all going wrong. You could get seriously hurt, or worse..."

“She also that there was a chance it could go well. Albeit lower, but there is still a chance. Please Abby.” Her expression remains conflicted, her heart torn between wanting you to be safe and wanting to support your desires. She pauses for a moment before responding, struggling to find the right words to say.

"I know...but the chance of it going well is so small. And the risk is so high. I don't want to lose you, I can't bear the thought of something going wrong. Especially after what happened the first time..."

“Give me one more chance please. I'll wait another four months like she said and if it doesn't work I won't get pregnant again but I can't give up!” Tears fill Abby's eyes as she hears your pleading. She wants to protect you and keep you safe, but she also understands how desperately you want this.

"I..." She stops, taking a moment to collect herself.

"Okay... okay, I'll give you one more chance. But I need you to promise me that if it doesn't work, you'll stop. No more trying." Your eyes fill with tears again and you hug her fiercely. Abby hugs you back tightly, her own tears starting to fall. She holds you close, her heart breaking as she feels your pain.

"Promise me, okay? Promise me this is the last time you'll try. I can't stand the thought of something bad happening to you."

“I promise.” Abby nods, holding you closer as she replies softly.

"Okay... okay. I trust you. Just please, be careful. And if anything feels wrong, you have to tell me, okay? I don't care if it's the smallest thing, you have to let me know if something doesn't feel right. Promise me that."

“I promise baby.”

"Good... okay. I love you, you know that right? No matter what happens, I just want you to be safe and healthy. That's all that matters to me."

“I love you too.” You sniffle. Abby continues holding you tight, stroking your hair gently as she responds softly.

"I know you do. And I know how much you want a family, I do too. I just... just want to make sure you're careful, okay? I don't want to lose you."

[animeyanderelover]

I was so excited that I stayed up for this.

May I request hcs of ryuken (I have a slight obession of this man.) with a judge darling who over works themself to the point of passing out. Like they go to work earlier and come home later than him. And they leave the hospital going against medical orders and say to the nurse " Tell doctor Ishida that I am leaving since I have a hearing in 2 hours, if he wants to see me he can see me at home. " Thank you

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, controlling behavior

Judge darling who overworks themselves

◻️It truly is the definition of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Truly, if you wouldn't push yourself so much Ryuken could admire this all a bit more. After all he appreciates your hard work and your respectable job. After all both of you have jobs where you essentially hold control over someone else's life and Ryuken wants to admire that. But he just can't do that with the way you constantly go against the medical orders he places upon you. Your partner has a tendency to be a bit more controlling, especially since he is a doctor and the director of the hospital in this town. So of course he would react very sensitive when he finds out that you overwork yourself to the point where you skip sleep and faint due to exhaustion and a lack of proper nutritions. You can protest and claim to know the limits of your body all you want but you aren't the medic in this relationship. He is and so he knows best.

◻️This topic is sure to spark a lot of discussions and arguments between the two of you. You are extremely stubborn and refuse to listen to Ryuken whilst he just ends up belittling you for your attitude. You're acting like a little child in his eyes right now, one that doesn't know when to stop. He thought that you would know better than that but apparently he was wrong. Those arguments never end in a shouting match though because both of you think that you're above screaming at each other from the top of your lungs. Instead there are sharp glares thrown at each other, words dripping with sarcasm fired at each other and constant belittlements directed at each other. Ryuken would rather not spend so much time arguing and destroying the domestic bliss but you give him no choice. He won't back down and watch you ruin your health.

◻️He tries to approach this all logically for a while in hopes of reasoning with you. So he explains to you that if you were one day to seriously suffer from the constant days and nights of overworking yourself, you wouldn't be able to help all your clients and bring justice upon the court. Can't you see that your reckless behavior is also harming other people? If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for your clients who need you in your best condition. Or do it for him, your husband who is very worried about your health. Even as he tells you this argument, he can't hide the sharp edge in his voice completely. He considers himself a patient man but even he is slowly losing his patience here because both of you have been quarreling like this for way too long now. And you still refuse to listen to the his advice. The advice of your husband and an actual doctor.

◻️Ryuken finally reaches a limit when he finds out that you constantly leave the hospital and go against medical orders despite having fainted prior to being brought there. He will absolutely not tolerate such neglectful behavior for one's own health. Fine. If you refuse to properly take care of yourself, he will have to take some measurements then. He starts meddling with your job as he talks to people you work with to bring them on his side and convince you to take a few steps back and relax from your constant work. He starts taking this matter more to the public and even if he dislikes sharing what is privately happening between you two normally, this is for your own good. He plans to make people aware of what you're doing and uses his influence as an actual doctor to strengthen their belief to trust his words that you need to slow down or else you might suffer serious consequences later on in your life.

◻️You hear words from your concerned colleagues soon after and storm angrily to Ryuken who calmly stands there and listens to your furious rant. He rebukes you for your accusations though as he explains to you that he only informed people about this because apparents his own words as your lover and doctor weren't enough. You really are too reckless for your own good but he won't allow anything to happen to you just because you are too stubborn to just sit down and rest for a while. You are worse than he is and that is already an achievement in itself. He additionally scolds you for leaving the hospital despite the medical orders for you to just spend a day or two there and rest. Are you even aware of the risks? Next time you will head the advice he gives you as your doctor.

◻️Ryuken is definitely persistent and you feel his influence in the people around you who try to encourage you to work less and take more breaks. This only adds gasoline to the flames and obviously you try to work even more as a protest. Only that you soon find out that Ryuken has stepped his own game up. He stays longer awake himself to catch you before you can leave for work again and when you scold him for getting too little sleep he quickly points out the sheer hypocrisy in your words as you have been doing the very same thing even longer than he has and even locks the door to the bedroom to prevent you from leaving. He uses the same strategy whenever you end up once again in the hospital as he makes sure to lock the door that would allow you to leave the room and tries to take as much time to stay with you in the same room to ensure that you take proper rest. As soon as you start an argument with him, you just receive this cold glare from him. You got yourself in this situation. If you would have just listened to him, none of this would have to happen. But he'll keep on playing this game you try to play until you learn your lesson.

[herlock-olmes]

Vincent.

Vincent Anderson x reader

Because we all love mentally unwell Benedict Cumberbatch characters

Summary: Vincent comes to his best friend he'd known for years after another night of arguing with his wife and drinking

TW: Cheating, spoilers, harsh language, angst

“Jesus Christ, Vincent.”

She said with a groan as she saw him standing in her hallway. The windows of her apartment had a soft pattering sound as the rain water hit against them, the soft, orange glow from the street lights sneaking their way in through the thin curtains. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was late at night. Vincent however, seemed too drunk out of his mind as he stood in front of her. Even if she didn't take in the smell of his breath, he looked like crap. Water dripped from him, onto the hallway carpet beneath him, his eyes holding a hint of tiredness, not just from the lack of sleep.

“You look like shit.” She said, but still stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment. She sighed softly as she closed the door behind him, not pleased with the trail of water he left behind in his wake. “You and Cassie had a fight again, didn't you?” She asked, though it was said like a statement. She walked over to him as he mumbled something incoherent. He shedded himself from his coat and scarf carelessly, rolling her eyes as she took them from the floor, placing them on her rack.

“I take it, you're gonna sleep here again.”

“Where the hell else am I supposed to go?” He questioned, seemingly stating the obvious by his tone. “Lennies… maybe your parents?” She suggested. “Fuck my-” He was about to speak, or rather slurred, cutting himself off with a sigh. “You know how I feel about them.” He finally said in a much calmer tone, but the irritation was still evident in his voice.

With a slight shrug, she walked into her kitchen, turning on the light as she grabbed a glass of water. Vincent flopped himself down onto the couch like he had done so many nights prior. Her bare feet were heard against the ground as she returned to his side, handing him the glass. “Drink.” She ordered.

She sat down next to him as he took the glass from her. “I don't even know why I'm bothered at this point.” She muttered with a little bit of humor, despite her tired voice, as she let out a small sigh. “At this point I should make a room for you.” Vincent let out what she was sure was a faint chuckle as she said this. Without realizing it, a smile formed on her lips. “That would be very convenient.” He stated, placing the glass on the coffee table that sat in front of them. “Maybe I can have my couch back in the mornings.” She replied with a small giggle of her own.

“Maybe…” he replied, settling back down. She gave him a small frown, her smile fading quickly. She could sense that something had happened earlier that night. Vincent did drink very often, however she could tell something else was on his mind. “Do you…” She started, not sure how to approach this subject “...maybe, want to talk about it?” She suggested softly. Her hand come up to his shoulder, squeezing gently as a way of comfort. She felt him tense under her touch, but not pulling away. He let out a breath after a long moment, speaking in his gruff, and strained voice.

“It's Cassie and work. Nothing for you to be concerned about.”

It was clear he was trying to brush it off. Not wanting to push the matter, knowing how he can be when discussing these sort of subjects, especially when he was drunk. Still wanting to add some sort of reassurance, she spoke once more. “Well, you two have been married for a long time. Not every relationship is perfect.”

Her tone had a touch of sadness in it. Throughout the years she had been friends with Vincent, she had formed a sort of crush on him. Feeling like she knew him better than anyone, and being considered close friends by many. She would be lying if she said she was happy seeing his family split. She never had anything against Cassandra, and was even friendly with one another. Any young person would probably jump at the opportunity to be with the one they developed feelings for if they had the chance.

But after seeing everything he went through, his parents, the medication they made him take, the frustrations of the addictions and even his home problems. She only wanted to see him happy, to see the genuine smile on his lips, that wasn't just from a moment of satisfaction, or making his point known after being a jerk. Without realizing it, her hand snuck over to his, squeezing him gently as she sat there in thought.

She only snapped out of it when she felt him return the gesture. She turned to face him slightly, giving him a small smile as they sat there in the dimly lit apartment, with the rain andcar horn going off in the distance. Basking in the peacefulness of the moment, a break from their demanding and grueling life. Even if they both knew they would have to face it again when the sun rised in a few hours.

They held each others hands for a long while, him feeling her hands, which he found delicate and soft in contrast to his own rough hands that held small cuts. His nails were a little sharper than usual. He had to cut those, he considered. “Your a good person Vincent.” She whispered softly to him, not finding a reason to speak at a normal volume as they sat right next to each other, their faces were inches apart as she continued “your just a fucking asshole most of the time.”

He let our a small cackle at this, the smell of his alcohol which still lingered in his breath didn't smell as bad as it did before. She finally took a moment to appreciate those eyes of his, she had admired them for the longest time. How they appeared blue in certain times, green in others and gray every so often depending on the lighting. She always loved that detail, they were by far the most beautiful eyes she had seen.

She didn't know if it was the drowsiness or the atmosphere itself, but did he appear more handsome than he already was? His glasses were ever so slightly smudged or have the occasional partical. But despite this he seemed to only be focused on her. Just like she was on him. Her eyes trailed his beard, appreciating the look of it. Matching the curls which adorned his head, she wanted to reach up and feel the bristles beneath her fingertips if her hand wasn't within his own, his high cheekbones contributing to his attractiveness to her. He squeezed her hand yet again, soft. She let out a small hum of satisfaction as she leaned her head closer even if it was subconsciously.

They sat like that for a few moments longer, enjoying the quiet company of one another. She could have sworn she saw him lean in closer to her face.

Before any of them realized it, they leaned in until their lips made contact. She closed her eyes as did he. A small groan could be heard escaping the back of his thoart as he felt her soft lips against his own. She could feel the hair on his beard softly scratch on her skin as she kissed him back. One of her hands leave his, cupping his cheek gently, as she rubbed along his cheekbone in admiration. She could taste the vodka on his lips, but she didn't care. In fact if anything she may have craved a little bit more of it at this moment. Letting go off hers, his hand came around her lower back, resting there as he hesitantly pressed her closer. She sighed against his lips, letting him know she was fine with it.

Vincent groaned against her lips as he started to kiss with more passion. It was probably the druken state he was in, but she tasted amazing against his lips. He felt an intense hunger as her press his tongue against her lips silently asking for permission, which she granted. He immediately started to explore her mouth, like some starving man. In a way he was, he was starved for too long, wanting affection, needing it.

She moaned against his mouth, feeling him invade her mouth, which she allowed. How could she not? She slowly took her hands off his face, instead opting to wrap them around his neck. Pulling him closer against her. “Oh Vincent…” she said softly against his lips.

Suddenly he froze. The way she said his name, reminded him of Cassie, his wife. Then he remembered Edger. Oh god what was he doing here? Slowly he pulled away, she let out a soft “huh?” as he did this, immediately standing up and wiping his lips, leaving her confused as he started to make his way to the door “This was a mistake.” He said to himself as he put on his coat and scarf. “What- did I do something wrong?” She asked as she walked to him. “This, is wrong Y/n.” He simply stated as he continued. “I'm married and I don't plan on cheating on her.” He muttered. “Vincent, it was just in teh heat of the moment I-” he cut olher off again, putting on his scarf quickly “Your right. It was in the heat of the moment.” He turned around as he began putting on his shoes.

“You can still spend the night.” She offered kindly, seeing where he was coming from but not wanting him to leave on the dark, dangerous streets of New York. Especially when it was raining. He still shook his head, not even wanting to listen to her suggestions. “I'm just going to go home to my wife and son.” He said once more. Finally, he walked towards the entrance door. Unlocking it with ease before slidding out of it. “Vincent wait!” She tried to call out for him, but the door quickly closed behind him.

Leaving her standing in her dimly lit apartment, the soft pattering could be heard as she stood there looking at the door with disbelief and hurt. Hurt that he would just leave like that. Hurt as she always remembered she will be nothing more than just a friend to him. As much as she would love to take that role, she couldn't. As she stood there, the silence in the room sounded much more louder than it was, and the emptiness lingered around, but it was different compared to earlier.

She let out a shaky breath before turning around to go back to her bedroom.

[flyingwargle]

tw: day after a panic attack, discussions of anxiety

suna awakens to the sound of his front door opening.

through the haze of his sleep-leaden mind, he registers how heavy his body is, swollen eyes struggling to blink through the darkness. he hears keys jangle, footsteps reverberating throughout the apartment until knocks sound on his bedroom door, along with a soft call. “rin?”

he tries to respond, but his throat is dry, so all that comes out is a faint cough. the door opens, a figure washed in shadows stepping inside, approaching to kneel beside his bed. suna rolls his head to face them, can see the concern in their gaze, the deep frown softening into a tiny smile. “hi, love,” osamu whispers. “i heard from komori that you were havin’ a rough time. didja eat?”

suna shakes his head. osamu reaches forward to brush hair out of his eyes, gentle touches that send shivers down his spine. “all right. lemme make ya some food. keep restin’, ya hear?” he doesn’t have the energy to speak, simply closes his eyes, feels osamu kiss his forehead before slipping out. the kitchen fan turns on a moment later.

after what happened yesterday, he isn’t in any condition to practice, so he stays in bed, chasing after the last tendrils of sleep, opening his eyes when he fails. a bone-deep exhaustion makes it difficult for him to sit up, let alone reach for his phone, somewhere on the nightstand, so he resigns himself with a sigh. it isn’t long before knocks echo on his door again, and osamu enters with a bowl balanced on a tray, along with a cup of water. “i made ya some rice porridge. lemme help ya sit up.”

slowly, he moves upright, leaning heavily against his pillows. osamu feeds him a spoonful of porridge at a time, quiet except for the steady rainfall that taps a rhythm on the window. “d’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“not really.”

“but will ya, with someone?”

his nostrils flare. it’s good timing that his monthly therapy session is around the corner. “yeah.”

osamu feeds him the last spoonful of porridge, then moves the bowl aside. he kneels beside him again, hand in his, kisses his palm with reverence saved for a god. “i’m sorry that i wasn’t here fer ya when ya needed me.”

“you have a restaurant to run. it’s my fault. i should’ve been more careful.” he’s always been mindful of his own anxiety, has followed every plan and strategy that he and his therapist came up with to mitigate panic attacks, to the point that he hadn’t had an attack since joining ejp. but things always fall through the cracks, often in unpredictable ways, and he’s the only one left to suffer.

“it’s never yer fault, rin. don’t say that.” osamu lifts his head at him, expression fierce. “i shoulda recognized the signs earlier, shoulda paid more attention, and i’m sorry fer that. i know this won’t make up fer it, but lemme take care of ya today.”

“are you sure?” suna whispers. “what about your restaurant?”

“they can survive without me fer a day or two, but i can’t survive without ya.” osamu looks at him more critically now, frown deepening. “yer still in your practice clothes.”

“oh. yeah.” seeing that he collapsed in bed immediately after coming home last night, changing or showering were the last things on his mind.

“d’ya wanna bath? i’ll help ya wash yer hair. when was the last time ya washed it?”

“don’t ask.”

osamu helps him out of bed. with slow steps, they enter the bathroom, suna sitting on the toilet while osamu fusses with the water temperature, waiting until it’s warm enough. then, he tells him to undress and get in the tub, pulling hair products from the cabinet.

a hot bath and freshly washed hair later, they settle on the couch, weighted blanket thrown over suna’s shoulders, face pressed against osamu’s chest. in high school, when his anxiety was undiagnosed, osamu was the only one who knew how to help him through it, the others lingering on the sidelines. it worsened in his third year, pressured by family to go to university and get a job, pressured to perform well and gain attention from scouts, pressured to maintain his grades to keep his options open. through it all, osamu stayed, hand stroking his back, fingers running through his hair, whispering in his ear that everything will be okay.

suna doesn’t deserve him, this man who drove three hours at the crack of dawn to arrive at his doorstep to make him food and wash his hair. what has he given him in return? a burden that he’ll carry for the rest of his life, no matter how hard he tries to mitigate it.

“rin? what’s wrong?” osamu’s panicked voice snaps him from his thoughts. “yer cryin’.” oh, he is, swollen eyes leaking with tears again. suna makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat. he cried enough last night. why won’t the tears stop?

“love, talk ta me. what’s wrong?”

suna hides his face from him. “i made you drive all the way here to deal with me. i’m sorry.”

“rin, ya didn’t ‘make me.’ i chose ta do this. an’ i ain’t ‘dealin’ with ya’ either. ya just had a panic attack in the last twenty-four hours. d’ya think i’d let ya handle the fallout alone? i’d never forgive myself.” osamu wraps his arms around him, pulls him closer to him. “if it weren’t for komori, ya would be by yerself, an’ i wouldn’t have known. that scares me, that ya’d be sufferin’, an’ i’d be none the wiser.”

“this isn’t–“

“no, don’t say that. i chose this. you’ll never let me go.” he lowers his head against his, voice soft in his ear. “so don’t be scared ta tell me when somethin’ is wrong, okay?”

suna crumbles, sobbing into his shirt, eyes and nose streaming. osamu holds him tight, strokes his back, murmurs that everything will be okay. he was there for him in high school and after, even when distance keeps them apart. he’ll always be here, and suna will never thank him enough.

[visionofhope04]

Hey, stumbled on to your neglected batsis story (I love it)! How would the rest of the Justice league react to the news. Like will they slowly distance themselves from the batfam or would they kick Bruce out of the league?

What about the Titans, will they treat Dick any different?

Hi! I'm so glad you enjoyed my series!!! Thank you so much for reading it! Also, I kinda got carried away with this ask... (713 words)

TW: ED MENTIONED (ANOREXIA)

The Justice League would definitely be shocked, especially Diana and Clark since they're closest to Bruce. Due to the loss of his company, he'd no longer have as much money as he used to. The guy was literally constantly making money and then it all came crashing down. He probably wouldn't be as willing to fund certain things that the Justice League required, which would cause a rift in the league's relationship with him.

The Justice League (besides Clark, who didn't want to assume Bruce actually did those things if he didn't and hadn't had time to ask Bruce yet) would probably find out about everything when they had to work with the batfam for one reason or another (probably an alien invasion or smth) weeks or even months after it all went down. Jason as Red Hood would be acting colder towards everyone, including the League since he'd assume they knew about it because it was all over the headlines.

Someone makes a comment on his behavior (most likely Green Lantern) and then he'll say something like "Well someone has to be mad.". The batfam's like "uh oh". They're all confused and then it hits Jason. They didn't know. So then he's like "Of course, he wouldn't want to risk his reputation with the only group of people that can stand being in a room with him that aren't his "family". Ask Bruce about his daughter.".

By this point, Clark knows what he heard was true and he's enraged. Everyone else turned to Bruce questioningly. Clark spoke up before they could ask though, "So the news was true? You all treated her that way?". "What do you mean. Bruce?" Diana called, wanting answers. However, Bruce didn't know what to say. The whole batfamily remained quiet, unable to come up with a lie. "Oh, well let's see, he neglected his daughter, she developed anorexia, and then fainted because of it before a gala. When she woke up, she was yelled at, insulted, and ridiculed for developing an eating disorder and damaging his damn reputation, because he didn't even care about her health!" Jason was fuming, even though it had happened a while ago, it still made him furious.

The batfamily was glaring daggers at him, and he glared back, all while the Justice League was still processing this information. After all, he was Batman, he LOVED kids, how could he do this to one of his own? "Bruce?" Diana questioned, still wanting to give himself an opportunity to explain himself. They all hoped this was a misunderstanding. However, he could say nothing to defend himself. For once in his life, he wasn't prepared. He did do those things, but he didn't think he was in the wrong. After all, his daughter had been trained alongside Damian to be perfect, it was her fault she wasn't. His silence was an answer nobody wanted.

After much heavy discussion, it was decided Batman could stay in the league, but could no longer lead and would be considered a distant ally. He would only be called upon for emergencies.

The Titans would never be able to look at Dick the same again. He was always so welcoming, so nice. He treated everyone kindly, or so they thought. Apparently, this kindness didn't extend to his sister. How could he be so nice to Damian, but so mean to her? And she wasn't even like Damian, she was so nice! They'd briefly met her when they went over to the Manor for Christmas. She'd quickly left after introductions. This concerned the team, but Dick reassured them this was a normal occurrence, she hated crowds.

How didn't they notice? Dick's hesitance to talk about her, to let them meet her, hell, he probably didn't even remember her existence until she was brought up in a conversation! How could the whole family do that to a child? One of their own? The worst part, they didn't feel a speck of remorse for it. How could the Titans interact with Dick normally, knowing what he'd done, taken part in, and did nothing about? Every time they interacted with him, they could tell they weren't quite able to hide the disgust in their gazes, and they always knew they'd never be able to.

[exy-shmexy]

AU where the twinyards’ dad finds out about them and fights to get them back

TW: Andrew’s past (before the Spears), Aaron’s abuse (mentioned), Nicky’s treatment by Luther

He finds Andrew first.

Michael is just an ordinary guy, in his mid-thirties working a boring office job. He doesn’t hate it, but it’s definitely not what he sees himself doing for his entire life. He has a solid group of friends, he’s single but he doesn’t mind and he has a nice little appartement in Oakland. Sure sometimes money is tight, but he manages.

Until one day his world crashes upside down.

One person in his group of friends is a social worker. It’s a Thursday when he gets her text. It’s just a “can I call you?” but he immediately knows there is something amiss. Sarah never asks to call him, she usually just does regardless of what time it is. He calls her and she tells him she wants to see him the same evening. He agrees. They meet up at their usual restaurant and she tells him about this kid in Oakland who just got thrown out of his foster home. Michael asks her why she’s telling her that. The woman takes a deep breath. She digs into her bag, gets a file out and lays it in front of him. Michael frowns, wondering what the heck is going on. But then he sees the name.

Andrew Joseph Doe.

“What is this?”

Sarah gestures at him to open the file. He does. He does and when he sees the photo pinned on top of all the papers, his stomach drops. Because staring back at him is a younger version of himself. Well, it’s him but it’s also not. Michael doesn’t say a word, he just stares at the photo of this ten year old boy staring back at him with eyes devoid of any joy. His throat squeezes.

Sarah talks before he can. “Michael we’ve known each other since we were seven years old. This boy is you.”

Michael gulps. He knows it. He sees it. The boy—Andrew—has his face. He even has the same faint beauty mark at the corner of his mouth. Michael’s eyes are darker, the boy’s are hazel, their hair is the same shade of blond.

His mind spins and spins and spins, until he remembers an evening in San Jose ten-ish years ago. He doesn’t remember the details, but he remembers a woman, one too many glasses of alcohol and a night spent in a hotel in her company. “Jesus fucking Christ. Sarah I don’t… I didn’t… Are you sure?”

“We could do a DNA test, I don’t know maybe I’m imagining things but you are seeing it too, yes?”

Michael takes a moment to answer. “Are you allowed to let me take this home?”

“Technically no. But no one will know.”

Michael doesn’t sleep that night. He reads the file from beginning to end, reads about how Andrew has been tossed around foster homes without ever being allowed to settle in one. He learns that he is deemed difficult, angry for his young age. All Michael sees is a lost kid who needs help. He texts Sarah the next morning that he wants to meet him. It takes a week to organize a meeting. Sarah can’t be there for it because she has to take care of another kid but Michael goes with his friend Phil Higgins, whom he has known for a couple years now.

They meet Andrew’s caseworker first. Michael has a long discussion with him, then they meet Andrew. Andrew looks like he wants to be anywhere but here except when he meets Michael’s eyes, there is something that clicks. There is very little doubt they are related and Michael sees just how much intelligence there is in the boy’s eyes when he stares at him. Michael doesn’t know what to tell him, this child whose existence he didn’t know about until barely a few days ago. Michael immediately wants to bring him back home with him. He knows the process is going to be long but he wants to pull some strings, and Higgins is here to help.

It takes weeks to get the paperworks in order, but after an excruciatingly long wait, it’s done. He gets to take Andrew, his son—the DNA tests came back—home. Adjusting to this new life is strange. Andrew doesn’t talk to him. Higgins helps with enrolling him to school, Sarah gives him precious advice, but Andrew is a closed book.

Until one night where Michael decides to take him to the ice cream parlor after school. It’s been three weeks since they’ve been living under the same roof, three weeks of silence, but this time Andrew speaks. “Why did you do this?”

It takes Michael a second to register Andrew asked him a question. “Do what?”

“Decided to take me with you?”

“Andrew you’re my son.”

“It didn’t matter until now.”

“I didn’t know about you. If I did, I would never have let this happen. I swear.”

Andrew frowns. He eats more of his ice cream (a chocolatey monster. It’s fine, Michael will make him eat veggies for dinner). “I don’t know you. Your words mean nothing.”

Michael can hardly comprehend this boy is just ten. “Andrew, I’m going to need you to listen to me very carefully. If I had known, I promise I would never have let any of this happen. You’re my son, and I swear you’ll never need to worry about anything again. On my life. Understood?” Andrew frowns, but he nods. Things start to get better from there.

Until a year later when Higgins, who had been sent to talk at a school in San Jose and calls him freaking out because he swears he saw Andrew there. It’s impossible, Andrew has spent the entire day at the zoo with Michael because they decided to take a day away from everything. Higgins sends him a photo of a boy who looks like the carbon copy of his son.

This is the second time Michael’s world crashes down.

Higgins helps him find out about this child—Aaron—and when he learns the way he is treated by his mom, Michael fights the courts to get custody and protect him. It works.

The twins have a hard time getting along, but slowly they make progress. The three of them learn to become a family no matter how strange it is but Higgins suggests signing them up to the school’s exy team.

It helps.

They make some friends, including a troublemaking redhead, and things get better from there.

Until one day another boy shows up at Michael’s doorstep. He recognizes him from his fight against Tilda. His name is Nicky, he’s sixteen, and he looks like an absolute mess. Nicky tells him everything he’s been going through.

Michael cannot let this broken boy alone, he cannot allow that.

So he goes back in front of the courts to get custody. He gives them evidence of conversion therapy and with Higgins again on his side, Nicky ends up joining the house and his cousins where none of them ever need to worry about anything again.

A massive thank you to @halfpintpeach for helping me bring this chaos together <3