#You can't be mad at an unfortunate person

[lilium-dell]

RANDOM MOUTHWASHING HEADCANNONS

This is going to be a long post...I apologise in advance.

And english isn't my first language, I apologise for any mistakes! (´；ω；`)

Captain Curly (pre-crash)

Used to be a rebel as a teen, have bad grades, drink, all the stuff. Because of that, he gave himself piercings and some hand poked tattoos.

He still has some scars from said piercings and hides the badly done tattoos he did at the ripe age of 16.

Hates science fiction movies. He thinks that they are super unrealistic and will spend the entire time criticizing them.

Loves romcoms tho.

Secretly loves punk music, the only thing left from his rebellious phase.

Works out as much as he can. He's sad? Goes to the gym. He's happy? Gym. He's stressed? Gym.

When he goes to the Tulpar, he always brings some weights so he can lift before bed/after he wakes up.

Gives the best hugs. You can't tell me this man will not bear hug you until you feel better.

Wanted to be a psychologist before studying to be a pilot, yet he gave up because he was too much of a people pleaser.

His favorite animal is bears, grizzly ones to be exact.

Captain Curly (after crash)

Spends the days thinking on what he could've done to make things different.

After he gets rescued from the cryogenic pod, he can't help but feel survivors guilt. All his crew was dead, except for the captain that should've gone down with the ship first.

After he gets his prosthetics, it takes him a while to get used to them and feels some phantom pain on the stumps of his arms and legs once in a while.

He regularly writes to his fallen crew members as if they are still alive. It helps him cope.

He also stayed in touch with the families of his fallen crew. Curly always apologizes for their death.

Anya

Left her cat on earth and the last words she said to him was "When I come back, I'll buy you wet food", as she would always buy treats for her cat after every excursion.

Her favorite thing to do on earth was to read with her cat on her lap and some tea.

Is a only child but always had pets throught her childhood.

Is a bad loser, everytime she loses at the game nights on board of the Tulpar she goes on a raging fit. Doesn't really hide it.

The only time the crew have seen her mad is when she loses at games.

Used to do combat sports as a teenager. Seeing the wounds of the people she trained with made her want to pursue medicine.

Is a really good driver. Just road rages a bit.

Wears contacts.

Her last thought on the medical bay was about her cat and how much he would miss her.

Daisuke

Loves shooting and RPG games.

Fluent in English and Japanese. Speaks mostly in japanese at home with his parents.

Has a younger sister. He used to let her do makeup on him when they were both younger.

Used to be a popular kid but never really had a girlfriend.

HUGE fantasy nerd.

He's actually a very smart kid, used to be an honor student.

Tried to teach Swansea about Pokemon and Kingdom Hearts lore on their lunch breaks. Swansea tried to understand.

Helps Anya take care of Curly, even if he doesn't have any medical experience.

Tried smoking once, started wheezing and gave up immediatelly.

Ties his hair when he needs to be super focused.

His playlist goes from Tyler the Creator to Lady Gaga to Bach in a click. The playlist is called Whiplash.

Swansea

Dog person. He definitely loves big dogs.

Sees the entire crew almost like family and takes care of them like family.

Listens to dad rock/country while reading the newspaper to relax.

He has a picture of his kids next to his bed. Unfortunately, everything got destroyed in the crash.

Was the one who brought the tabletop games for the crew. He's a huge tabletop games fan.

Girldad. He definitely spoiled his kids as much as he could.

Huge sports fan. Specially soccer.

Jimbabwe (I'm sorry)

Smokes two packs of cigarettes a day. Rothmans to be more specific.

He has a narcissistic disorder.

When he was a kid he used to torment his siblings.

Met Curry when training to be a pilot and got extremely jealous and spiteful when Curry got promoted instead of him.

Hates when Daisuke calls him every name under the sun except his. (Ex. Jimbo, Ji-man, Jimin, Jin).

Had an obsession with American Psycho as a teenager.

He was an edgy teenager.

I have so many headcannons but if I put them all here, the post would be gigantic...

[nartml]

I don't care enough to block you, and I'd like to say that I'd love to be someone who could leave well enough alone, but that would be lying. And I don't do that.

I want to make it clear that I never said she was perfect. However, it would be nothing but ignorant to insinuate that she's not better than the convicted felon, SA-er, racist, misogynistic, homophobic, pedophilic, Zionist pos that is now the US' president.

And while I, unlike him, am not ever going to be against the freedom of speech, you have got to understand that one's freedom ends where another's begins, and if freedom comes at the cost of even one other's, it was never freedom.

Needless to say that this is exactly why none of us are free, but especially when it comes to speech, Trump's plans do nothing but spit on that right, as well as everything else.

So I have no reservations treating him, and all his wretched supporters, with the same disrespect.

Kamala—and be not mistaken, no politician—will ever be the true leftist dream, while still having a real possibility of winning. This is, unfortunate as it is, fundamentally impossible.

But she's as close as we can get, because not only did (and still does) she have a very real chance of making it as president, she is reasonable.

You can work with her.

It's like this: You have but two real options.

One is going to be your bus. It's likely not getting you to your front door step, since you live on the very outskirts of town, it's all very remote; but it's going to leave you as close as you can get by bus.

(It sure beats walking, and a Taxi? In this economy? Laughable.)

The other is going to be your ticket to Hell.

Yeah, I know what I would want, were I a US citizen. What with my opinions tending to the left and all.

Now, I can't know if Kamala herself is truly Zionist.

But I do know that Palestine, for better or for worse, isn't the only thing that matters.

And I have the sense to recognize that I can't base my vote purely on one issue.

I want to clarify that I am not only a minor, but I also do not live in the US. I won't feel the consequences of this election firsthand.

But like any person with functioning empathy, I feel strongly for the lives that will be ruined because of it, whether inside the US or otherwise.

Now, I don't know what to say of the leftists who consciously decided to abstain or vote third party, in some righteous act of moral superiority.

Because that's really the only reason that could support this type of madness.

I'm under no illusion that third party voters actually did much to cause this horrid outcome.

But forgive me if I find it ridiculous to be so delusional as to believe that there was any chance that another party was going to win.

The stakes were the highest they've been in a very hot minute, and I still stand by my belief that the ability to abstain/vote third party is a privilege of insane proportions.

I once briefly debated with someone here on this particular issue, and they were enthusiastically against voting Blue.

They basically said "Minorities in the US already have nothing to lose, so it doesn't matter to us living here if Trump wins. What's he gonna do, take the rights we don't have?" and I cannot humanly overstate how fucked up this talking point is, so I won't do anyone reading this the dishonour of spelling it out for them.

Palestinian lives matter, and I'm going to be here to scream it in your ears until they bleed; but they are not the only ones.

Fuck you if you voted Trump. Are fucking stupid? Are you allergic to critical thought? Should I get you a goddamn EpiPen? Or are you not even willing to risk it?

[jhonnyhotbody]

How u one of the strongest in DC but loose to ADHD?

[sergle]

hi sorry to bother. i'm trying to find this one drawing that i'm like 99% certain you've done of like, the default appearance of every white queer person regardless of labels. like some short haired androgynous bespectacled person who you know at minimum 3 of. and everyone kept saying that 'that's literally me' because of course it is. did i just vividly make that up. i cannot find it with tumblr's notoriously bad search function. i wanted to make fun of my boss and like 5 separate other people i know.

YUUUUUUUUUUUUUP THAT WAS ME you are not crazy. this was the art

this is the post this is another version of the post

[burningfaith]

next month me and my grandma are going to visit my godfather who lives in Spain, but instead of being excited (it's gonna be my second time abroad in my life) I'm anxious af, because even though I'm an adult I live with my parents and I need to tell my father about it. normal parents would - y'know - be happy that their children have opportunity to visit another country, but instead he's gonna be insufferable about it, because it's my mom's side of family and he despises my uncle. but what is he gonna do? kick me out of the house even though he promised that as long as I'm studying or working I don't need to worry about such thing, humiliate me as usual, tell me that I'm childish and spoiled or make my mom's life a living hell again? I'm aware of the fact that the longer I'm putting it off the worse his reaction is gonna be, but I'm just not mentally able to tell him that, because I don't know how he will react. I don't need any money from him, I don't have to use my phone during this trip (I dunno how the roaming and stuff work), I just want to be sure he's gonna behave like a proper human being towards my mom and my siblings when I won't be at home and not act like a total asshole while talking with me about it.

[ehh-is-the-name]

It's past 11 on a school night and I'm fucking crying over robot sentience.

I could never understand what it would feel like to be created with the intent to kill and maim. Maybe, the intent to work and be worked, but not kill and maim.

I will never understand what it's like to be created with the intention of being a product for the masses, either. I think, I hope, I beg, no one does.

I will never ever be able to fully comprehend why hours of people's work, time, and money would be put into formulating my sentience only for me to be seen as disposable. Even if I could be improved, even if I were "defective", there is no reasonable justification for giving me emotions only to dismiss them by pushing me as a product for a year before starting anew.

It's... It's cruel, to the machines. Sentient or not, it's cruel. Though, I guess we are cruel.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

today my coworker turned to my mentor and told him there was something about him that was just inherently likable and turned to me and told me i should work on being less giggly if i wanted to be taken seriously in life

[mouse-ships]

[shidoukanae]

Paris Valerian but i redesign his dragon form for funsies based on how i see him=. Not sure if I like this design bc im not a fan of bulkier looking dragons but for Paris I think this works??

Some headcanons about this design:

has a bit of a bull-like look bc I associate bulls with persistence and madness and idk that fits Paris well so if Fian has a “fox” motif Paris gets a “bull” one for his dragon form 

His design is based a lot on how a stereotypically evil dragon would look???? Because imo OG!Paris reads as a massive antagonist and I think giving him a look that fits that vibe in his dragon form works!! Especially because he still is an antagonist in a way (though god does he not read that way lmao)

he’s stronger in his dragon form than Fian is and he uses this to his advantage to bully Fian around whenever they playfight as dragons. That said, it seems Paris is surprisingly gentle towards Fian in this form and never hurts him.

he uses this form to intimidate people into getting what he wants. He’s not used to getting retaliated against while in this form and quickly respects anyone who does so (read: Fian, Lyla and Helene)

the silver scales on his body can glow in the same way his eyes do. Typically, he keeps them dull-colored (see above) but if he feels a strong emotion of any sorts they’ll glow brightly without him meaning to (noticeably: they glow constantly whenever Helene is around for obvious reasons~).

[quarterprioritymidnight]

You forgot joywave (me spreading the joywave agenda)

omg you're so right one month until permanent pleasure yall 🥳 (also ty for spreading the joywave agenda as you should)

[carolinanadeau]

you're talking shit for the hell of it. and we see you over there on the internet, comparing all the girls who are killing it. but we figured you out, we all know now, we all got crowns, you need to calm down. I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined. Mr. Superior Thinking... no, I don't like you. no one likes a mad woman - you made her like that. I can feel the flames on my skin. you did some bad things but I'm the worst of them. maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours. I'm shaking my head and locking the gates. this is why we can't have nice things. seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain. sometimes I wonder which one'll be your last lie. now I breathe flames each time I talk. do you still feel like you know what you're doing? because I don't think you do. all you are is mean! and a liar! and pathetic! and alone in life and mean!

and you didn't see me here.

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[kasagia]

Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

[strwberri-milk]

Hiiii, can I request how will LaDs boys react when reader got angry with them (at some event there was a misunderstanding or some other problem) and at home she continued to be angry with them (or even ignore them)

AHHHh ngl this is one of my favourite tropes i just like being comforted but realistically pls!! communicate w your partners i dont know how many times i have to scream that from the rooftops!!! also this bitch is LONG also i love. jealousy unfortunately so all of this is like. miscommunicatoin mixed w jealousy!!

Zayne immediately clocks your abnormal behaviour before you even realise how angry you are at him. The only reason he does so is because he's hyper aware of the way you act around him because of how much he cares about you, trying to figure out if there's something he can do to try and keep things from getting worse.

However, being at a party with all of his colleagues trying to talk to him about his latest research does make it quite difficult. You're also fielding some questions yourself - primarily ones about your relationship with Zayne. People can't help but be curious about the type of person Dr. Zayne is interested in and you do your best not to let your anger bleed out.

You manage to last until the two of you are heading home, getting into Zayne's care. It's then that you just totally deflate in his presence, looking out the window and ignoring him as he drives the two of you home. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you fiddle with your hands, clearly wanting to say something to him but stopping yourself short.

He doesn't want to force it out of you but also wants you to talk to him. He ends up deciding to let you have your time on the car ride and when the two of you get inside he tells you that he understands you're upset, but he wants you to tell him about it. If you refuse to talk to him right away he understands, forgoing giving you any affection in case you don't want it as he starts getting ready for bed.

You come to bed a little restless, Zayne also unable to sleep as you're on his mind. He turns to face your back, wanting to reach out but failing to. You refuse to look at him, knowing that you'll just crumble and you want to have the upper hand, even just for a minute longer.

"Just explain to me what's wrong. I can't help you if you don't tell me," Zayne asks again, sounding a little more frustrated.

You remain on the bed, pulling the blanket higher over your shoulders as you continue to give him the silent treatment. You don't want to cave but when he kneels in front of you, looking directly at you to force you to stop ignoring him you sigh loudly and sit up.

"I'm allowed to be mad at you," you say with a huff, Zayne nodding in agreement.

"I didn't say you aren't. I'm asking you to explain to me why you're made so I can fix it."

You curse internally at how quick he is to accept blame and jump to making you feel better. The guilt of ignoring him when you know how badly he just wants to make you happy starts to kick in. You hug your arms to your chest, bringing your knees up as you avert his gaze.

"One of the doctors said they went to school with you. They were...they said that all you did was talk about how you went to med school because of one of your friends. They told me that they always thought that you'd end up dating that person instead of me because of how sweetly you spoke of them."

He nods in understanding, coming to sit next to you on the bed. You slide over to give him some room, leaning into his touch when he puts his arm around you. You can't deny how much you've missed him, finally looking up at him. He has a smile on his face, that teasing look that warns you he's about to embarrass you, just a little.

"You don't remember, do you?" he asks gently, hugging you as he laughs a bit.

"What? Remember what?" you pout.

"It was you. You're the one they're talking about."

You feel your face flush with embarrassment, realising the object of your jealousy was just...you.

"I never got around to telling you but seeing how sick you were when you were younger made me want to study medicine to help out other children like yourself."

He tells you a little more about his journey through med school and how you were basically his inspiration. Listening to him talk about you like this now you can understand why his colleague thought he was in love with that figure, coming to terms with the fact that it's you.

By the time he's done you've basically just melted into a puddle in his arms, no longer needing his reassurances at the moment that he loves you and only you.

Everybody at the Hunter's Association knows that you and Xavier are dating. When you two made it official half of the office told you it was about time while the other half gushed about how cute the two of you are together. Things between the two of you don't change that much at work as you both understand it's important to keep things professional.

It's become such common knowledge that you've gotten to the point where you just assume that everyone knows you two are dating. If you ever get new hunter trainees the others usually fill them in on the office romances as fun little gossip, hence why you were confused when one of the newest recruits was getting exceptionally handsy with Xavier.

He told you about it the same day as the two were getting lunch, telling you that the new recruit seemed to prefer training with him for some reason. You trust Xavier so you have absolutely no reason to think that anything suspicious is happening, telling him that he's a strong Hunter so you don't blame them for looking up to him.

Xavier doesn't really train new recruits so he's a little out of his depth when it comes to this recruit following him around, trying to get him to let them come on missions with him. He always refuses, talking to their actual trainer and telling them to keep an eye on the new recruit.

However, it doesn't seem to work. They're still following him around, trying to eat lunch with him or supposedly help him with any reports he needs to file. Unfortunately for him, since he's such a high ranking Hunter the work he does completely goes over their head so he gets some peace and quiet from that.

One day you're heading over to meet Xavier for lunch when you see the new recruit hanging off of him. They're hugging him from behind and he's smiling as he talks to them, showing them something on his phone as the two of them laugh together. You feel your heart drop as you turn around, texting Xavier that something came up and you'll have to take lunch way later.

You know avoiding him won't work very well since the two of you live in the same building. There's quite literally no way to sneak out and go home without him because even if you did he could just go up a floor to find you. That means you spend the latter half of your shift trying to think up ways to get home without him confronting you, failing miserably when you look up and see Xavier waiting for you to walk home with him.

"...did I say something?" he asks when the two of you are halfway home.

"You haven't said a single thing to me besides hi. Are you alright?"

You look at him and realises he looks like a kicked puppy, crumbling instantly. You can't be angry at him for long, not when he looks that innocent. You huff and shake your head, crossing your arms.

"What were you doing with that recruit?" you ask confrontationally, making him jump a bit.

You've never taken that sort of tone with him before and he wracks his brain, trying to understand what you're talking about. It takes him a while to respond but you watch as his expression becomes more and more puzzled, clearly not understanding at all what you were trying to get at.

"That new recruit. They were literally hanging off of you and you two were clearly having a great time talking to each other," you grumble, picking up the pace to walk in front of him quicker.

"I - wait, come back!"

He catches up to you immediately, grabbing your hand and turning you to face him.

"What are you talking about? I don't know what you mean," he insists, taking both of your hands in his.

You continue to look at him silently, knowing it was irrational of you but not knowing how else to deal with the way you were feeling.

"They had their arm around your neck. You showed them something on your phone. Don't lie to me - I saw it. That's why I cancelled lunch," you retort, taking your hands out of his as you start walking again.

"It's not what it looked like at all!" he says quickly, keeping pace with your steps easily.

"They banged their knee pretty badly against the table. We were going to go to first aid but they told me to just keep them still and they'd come up to us. I was going to grab them a chair to sit in but they started asking me about you and I got distracted. I was showing them some pictures I took of you on our last date."

You stop suddenly, Xavier bumping into you at the unexpected move.

"And I should just believe you?" you bite, wanting to stay angry but knowing there's ultimately no point.

Xavier's literally never lied to you before and his story made sense, you guess. You're still a little upset, going home without him and telling him you just want some time to yourself. A couple hours later you get a text from Xavier apologising for not telling you about what happened sooner and for making you upset. You sigh to yourself, knowing that it's unfair of you to hold him accountable for something that's really not his fault.

You end up going over to his place, apologising for acting immaturely. However, you tell him you'd like him to be a little more assertive with boundaries with that specific recruit, knowing it's not his fault but also not wanting them to consistently disrespect your relationship.

He agrees immediately, telling you he was honestly already uncomfortable with the way that they were acting around him. You feel even worse now that he's said that, the fact reinforcing that he really didn't know what to do in the situation. However, he does feel really bad that you feel that way so he spoils you however he can by ordering you takeout and cuddling you up while the two of watch literally anything you want. You won't be able to be rid of him for the next little while but you don't really mind.

Rafayel's life can be a little messy. You're used to the tabloids saying things about him because he constantly complains about them. He honestly doesn't really mind what they say about him because he's secure in his own identity as his own person - he just hates it when people do interviews based on those false preconceptions. It's the main reason why he'll deny interviews from certain media companies - some of them are worse for it than others.

He's also used to paparazzi, not a stranger to threatening them if they're getting too close on encroaching on his personal property or life. He keeps a very strong divide between the two of them, except when it comes to his relationship status. He doesn't pull you around and show you off constantly but he does make it very clear constantly that he's very in love with you and will happily spend the rest of his life at your feet.

No matter how often people try to bait him into "confessing" that he might have had a passing interest in some model or another painter it all miserably fails. He'll simply compare them to you with a scoff, telling the interviewer that their hair isn't as beautiful as yours is or the way they speak to him just makes him miss how your voice sounds in his ear.

That's why when you walk past a tabloid claiming to photograph Rafayel with a model on his arm you can't help but laugh until you take a closer look. There's no mistaking it - it's some model that he's been complaining about to you. The two of them are leaving Rafayel's favourite restaurant, one he swore up and down he saved only for dates with you.

You want to text him to confront him but decide not to, taking a photo of the magazine for safe keeping. You decide you're not going to talk to him, texting him quickly to tell him that you're too busy to chat during the day today and you'll just come visit him tonight to make up for it. In reality you were just going to spend all day figuring out how to confront him.

When you come over he's just as happy to see you as he normally is. He's a little clingier because you weren't able to text him all day but he sees the look on your face and immediately knows something's wrong. He doesn't know what until you show him the photo that's worked you into a frenzy.

"What - come on, you know that it's a tabloid! No, I'm not cheating on you and certainly not with them!" he insists, crossing his arms as he sees you won't relent.

"Then why lie and tell me that restaurant is just for us when you're going there with your clients too, huh?" you rebuke, pointing at the glowing letters.

"Thomas insisted we meet there! Apparently, they really wanted to try something from there and they refused. I tried to get out of the meeting but Thomas said I can't miss another one. Then, they said they'd pay for my food so I thought I may as well get something out of an awful afternoon."

He looks a little flush himself, getting more worked up as you continued accusing him.

"I wouldn't do that to you. You know that," he implores.

You've been avoiding looking directly at him the entire time, expecting to be even more angry to see some self-righteous expression on his face. When you finally do you're startled by the desperation in his eyes, the way he wants to reach out but falters because he doesn't want to hurt you by just touching you.

"I love you. Nobody else. It's just you, it's always been you," he continues, biting his lip.

"But - the two of you walked out arm in arm," you try weakly, knowing your resolve already cracked at his heartfelt words.

"Because I was grabbed. You don't see the next photo where I take my arm back and practically run into my car because that's not as interesting as me cheating on you."

He sees the tears beginning to well up in your eyes, almost reaching for your face when his hands stop. You nod, unaware that you did until he pulls you into him, pressing your foreheads together as he holds you closely.

"I'd never do that to you. I've spent far too long waiting for you to come back to me."

Sylus has a lot of competitors and you know he's very busy doing things to keep his prestigious rank of leader of the N109 zone, whatever that may be. He purposefully chooses to exclude you from any dealings that he does, telling you with a kiss on your cheek that ignorance is bliss. If something happened to you because of his lack of care he'd never forgive himself - not that he'd tell you, of course.

You're entertaining yourself as you wait for Sylus to finish one of his last meetings for the day. He sends you a text telling you to come by his office because he's almost done so you make your way there. You can hear his voice through the door when you hear him laughing.

"I'm just having fun, don't worry. It doesn't mean anything at all. No, I'm not afraid they'll find out, I mean, how would they?"

Your heart sinks a little, pressing your ear against the wood as you pray he's not talking about you. The conversation continues in the same direction, Sylus continuing to tell the other person on the line that he's going to enjoy messing with you. You tear up at the realisation that he's just as cruel as people think he is, wondering how you managed to let yourself get tricked by a literal career criminal.

Sylus ends the call and you panic, realising that you're standing here with tears on your cheeks and your clothes fisted in your hands. You're about to run away when he opens the door, dressed in preparation for your date and smiling when he sees you. His brows furrow when he sees the state you're in, about to ask you what's wrong when you just run away from him.

You end up turning into some random room, locking the door behind you as you sit against it. You can feel Sylus beginning to kick it down, yelling loudly that if he even cares a little bit about you he won't do it because you're sitting on the other side. He stops immediately, pacing outside as he tries to figure out what to do.

You hear him leave, sighing in relief as you stand up again. You want to open the door and run out, knowing you could get home without him but also knowing he'd be able to easily catch up as you made the boat ride back to Linkon. Honestly, you were beginning to doubt if you should try to get home when it's as late as it is, the ocean rough with the warning of a storm.

You're in the middle of your deliberation when he comes back, a jingling noise on the other side telling you he found the keys for the room. You gasp sharply, throwing yourself against the door in an attempt to keep him on the other side. He hears it immediately and stops.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks you through the wood, doorknob no longer jiggling with his movements.

"Sparing you from having to spend another moment with me," you say bitterly.

"What are you talking about?" he sighs.

"Stop being dramatic. Just let me come in and we can talk."

He lightly pushes against the door again, you making a noise of discontent as you hold the knob in place.

"I heard you on the phone!" you finally say.

"I know how you actually feel about me."

The words leave you sounding more broken then you thought they would, biting your lip as you try not to let him know how much it affected you. You start crying quietly again, feeling your heart break.

Sylus gets impatient, unlocking the door and letting himself in. You step back as the door slowly opens, still somehow touched at the consideration he shows for you even though he supposedly hates you.

"Sweetie, are you really letting that cloud your judgement? Did you honestly think that I was talking about you?"

He pulls you into his chest without any complaint from you. You hate how easy it is for him to hold you, burying your face in him as he gently runs a wide palm down your back.

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about the twins. They decided to pull a prank on me last week so I decided to get payback on them. It's not like a little trash talk would genuinely hurt their feelings if it got back to them."

"Oh."

You feel so pathetic like this, soaking up all his attention after thinking that he hated you. You don't even want to look at him, clinging to his shirt as though it could rescue you from this atrocity.

"Now come on. Let's get you cleaned up and ready to go on our date."

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic: Copyright

The first time it happened, the Waynes were walking around a street market, glancing at the art, when a woman wearing a Red Hood jacket and drinking out of a Red Robin coffee traveling mug struts by.

The heroes stop to stare, more in shock, to see how well the two items are done, which grabs her attention.

She grins at them, waving her cup. "You guys like the bats? You should check out both nineteen. He sells all official stuff."

"Official?" Dick repeats.

"Yup. He has it all trademarked." She says, pulling out a business card. She hands it to Dick with a smile before bidding everyone goodbye. Babs reaches up, snatching the card from Dick's slack hold, pulling out her phone to research the name.

Babs hisses through her teeth when she finds out that, yes, whoever the artist is, they did, in fact, trademark their designs. But not only did they cover their art, but they also put a copyright over the idea of all the Gotham heroes.

"He copyrighted Batman!?" Tim demands, reading over the baby's shoulder. "The symbol, the technology, the fighting moves- his shadow!? How!?"

"No one else did," Bruce answers with an amused smile. "He probably realized this and decided to slap one on while he had the chance."

"He can't do that!" Tim shouts. "Batman should sue him."

"Kinda hard to take someone to court regarding vigilantes." Dick shrugs his shoulders. "The Bats are illegal themselves, and they didn't copyright before this guy did."

"He owns Robin!" Jason announces with a laugh.

"That son of a-!!" Dick shouts, twisting around and stomping down the booths. People who recognize them jump out of the way for the raging celebrity. The rest of the Waynes were right behind him, a few slightly surprised by the pure anger on the eldest face.

Not Bruce or Jason. They see and personally know Dick's rage.

"How dare he try to claim Robin!" The eldest hisses, rounding the last row and stumbling to a halt. The rest are unprepared for his sudden stop, so they stumble into his back.

Grunts of pain and slight soft swears are heard as the group tumbles over onto the ground. Dick is unfortunate enough to end up on the bottom, feeling the total weight of his family. He's pretty sure Bruce's elbow was digging into his lower back, and Tim's head had slammed on the back of his neck.

Maybe Alfred was right about them going on a stricter diet. Ouch.

"Get up this instant. We are ashamed of the family name." Damian hisses from where he is standing above them. Of course, Cass is next to him with a cheerful smile.

Both of them had danced out of the collision in a way that appeared accidental to the untrained eye. Bruce likely let himself fall because he enjoyed causing scenes as Brucie Wayne, no matter how much he denied it.

"Dick." Jason groans, taking the hand Cass held out for him with grace. "Why did you stop?"

"Look at both nineteen." Dick hisses feeling Tim delibertly dig his elbow into his back. His brother offers him a sweet, innocent smile that does not hide the anger in his eyes. Sometimes Dick wonders if anyone can spot the pettiness in Tim or if his madness hides it.

"Oh," Steph whistles when she hopes off of Bruce to stare at the booth owner. "Yeah, I get it. He's hot"

"No!"Dick shouts, rising up from the ground. There is horror in his voice that makes the Bats all tense. "No, he is not hot. That's disgusting Steph. Look at him. Tell me who's face that is."

It's Bruce who spots it first. "I have more chidlren?"

Damian gasps. "Father, you have more blood, children!? How did you recognize him, Richard?"

"He looks exactly like Bruce at that age." Dick hisses, leaning closer. "The Titians and I met Bruce when he was sixteen during a mishap with a time wizard. I may have pretended to be a butler sent to Wayne Manor for training to get access to the cave. The cave was the location that we had to use to go home."

"That was you?" Bruce demands. "I thought that was an idiot who was in love with Alfred."

"Ew, why?"

"You kept complimenting his cooking, doing chores for him, and trying to take him out for a fun night in town!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting Alfred to have a week's vacation from the broodiest and most troublesome teen!" Dick shouts, throwing his arms in the air. "You were literally hissing at him whenever he told you to bathe!"

"I didn't like water back then!"

"Hey guys?" Jason cuts in. "Tim left."

Both men swing to stare at the second eldest with twin looks of confusion. "What?"

"Tim. He's over there. Yelling at kid-Bruce." Jason points to where a crowd is slowly building around them. Tim is in a screaming match with the owner. There is a lot of hand-waving, faces turning red in anger, finally ending with the owner throwing himself over the Red Robin merchandise with a protective little snarl.

Tim reels back and punches him in the face.

"Oh shit," Steph sighs, running towards the both as the owner is quick to tackle Tim. The Waynes find it odd that they must show off their bat training to break the two apart.

And that's how the Waynes get on the front cover of almost all media coverage that tells the story of Danny Fenton (Wayne). Bruce's second secret love child with a married woman (Jack and Maddie had briefly opened up about their marriage back then, so neither was mad) and who had met his biological father after a public fight with his adoptive brother.

Danny would like to go on record as saying that he was unaware of why Tim cared so much that he saw a fantastic business opportunity and took it. It's not like Batman could challenge his copyrights, and if the crimefighter came for his kneecaps over it, he would find himself against the Ghost King.

True the Ghost King in name only, but the Bat didn't know that.

Danny will be honest if asked how he felt about finding out Bruce Wayne is his father. He already knew. When he was around twelve, his parents sat him down and told him. It was how his dad explained where babies came from, the genuine Welcome To Puberty! Talk and what open marriages meant—which was as horrific as it sounds—and they never bothered with it again.

Because Jack Fenton had been the one to raise Danny, he had been the one who held him after his mom gave birth and had been the one who loved him with all his heart despite not being blood-related.

He had a bigger reaction to having to fist-fight Tim Drake over the fact he made Red Robin the official LGBT+ member of the Bat family because he is bi, no matter how much Tim insists Red Robin was straight.

It sounds to him like Tim is deep in the closet and in denial. Bisexual Red Robin forever!

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ JJK BOYS V.S. PLUSHIES

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! what will they do when you have plushies on your bed… / author's note. these are all lowk the same just variants im sorry i #hadnomoreideas

SATORU fights every urge in his body to not punch, throw, or kick your plushies off your bed. seeing them makes him mad. the word plushies makes him want to scream, he can't even control himself. like, they get to sleep with you every night?! he hates strongly dislikes whenever you get a new plushie and show it off to him. once you leave your room, oh boy, he is punching all of your plushies one by one. and not even a light punch; he is punching as hard as he can. (in the face, mind you) he gets a little carried away, unknowingly being loud as hell, and is laughing a little. you are confused and a little worried, so you decide to go check on satoru.. and what a scene you walked into! all of your plushies are now on the ground, with the sole survivor being your favorite, still on the bed. satoru has your favorite plushie in a chokehold while he blabs about how it'll regret even being made and gives it another punch with his other hand. he hasn't noticed your presence yet due to the heat of the moment, but when he does, he awkwardly drops your plush and looks at you like nothing had happened. you burst out laughing while he mumbles how he was just “fluffing them up”.

YUTA doesn't mind them at all. after all, he also has plushies to help him sleep at night, and he adored you ten times more once he found out that you did too. one day, the two of you have a sleepover, and he brings all of his plushies over.. oh boy! the moment he showed up at your front door with bags and bags of plushies, your jaw dropped. (there was one even balanced on top of his head) yuta was honestly more of a plushie addict than you. when he laid out his plushies on your bed, it was filled. wherever you laid, you would squish a few plushies. despite all the plushies, the two of you end up cuddling each other anyway. (half of them had fallen off the bed by the end of the night)

SUGURU is genuinely not bothered by your plushies. they're inanimate objects; why would he be bothered? they're cute, and he can count on them to help you sleep at night when he's not present. he also likes to buy you more plushies because of the way your face lights up when you see them, he can't get enough. every morning, after (the majority) of your plushies have fallen off the bed, he tenderly helps you arrange them back in their place. suguru even begins to give each one of your plushies a name (if you didn't already name them) and a little backstory. his personal favorite is a pair of plushies that reminds him of you and him.

YUUJI has mixed feelings about your plushies. yes, they're cute, but sometimes, when he sees you cuddling one, he wants to snatch it and replace it with himself. over time, he notices how you're always holding or cuddling the same plushie. sure, everyone has their favorites, but you have other ones, so why not switch them up every once in awhile? he decides to ask you why one day, and when you respond that it simply reminded you of him, he nearly passes out. he was hyperventilating, screaming, and everything in between. from that day on, yuuji has loved your plushies and even bought you variants of whatever plushie you said that looked like him.

MEGUMI tries to convince himself that he does not care about your plushies. they're cute and all, but he can't help but feel jealous of them. sometimes. whenever he has to be out and about, you send pictures to him throughout the day, and sometimes your plushie is sneaked into the photo at your side, and he can't help but feel annoyed. that plushie could've been him, but gojo had unfortunately dragged him out that day. he mentally groans as he types out a response, trying to sound as nice as he can. at first typing, “get that stupid plush away from you rn” before hastily deleting it and just sending, “pretty”. after megumi gets dragged around by gojo (yuuji and nobara magically appeared too) for six hours, he can finally go home. when he walks in, you're on the couch watching whatever random movie you had turned on out of boredom, and that stupid plushie is still by your side. he walks a little closer, and you're literally hugging it. megumi sighs before walking up next to your seat and gently snatching the plushie out of your hold before sitting down next to you and pulling you into his arms.