#all stories deserve to exist. even if it's not a happy one

[kittymizuki]

there's so much around lion that's so wildly compelling about sisterhood, family, and identity, etc. but one of the things that make me crazy is the idea of lion as a fictional construct made by readers who want to see sayo with love, but also being unable to wholly decide what would most make sayo happy bc so many parts of herself are rooted in pain. lion is literally someone who exists to show sayo that she deserved better, deserved comfort, love, everything else - that it wasn't her fault, and that even in this "perfect" world, terrible things happen. the parents are still greedy and cruel. kinzo is still a terrible person. ep7 in this context truly feels like it's written by ppl on the outside of the story who actually chose to engage and understand, and a love letter to real life readers who did so.

a big thing i consider with lion is not having to have the 'pressure' of needing to specify and that creating a 'better' dynamic in the family, but they also still have to use the name given to them by kinzo. further considering that there's a major point of the care and love will shows for lion that is blatantly intended to transcend any idea of 'gender' or 'cisheteronormativity' makes it obvious to me! lion is essentially "this is a version of sayo who never had to 'choose' which is both a good and a bad thing, as within that context, this is a 'nuclear family' kind of set-up. by being denied the option/potential of fully exploring gender identity, they take on the role of the 'ideal child', which itself is rather tragic."

i think it's also meaningful to consider that lion is still androgynous and disconnected from the idea of 'masculine gender' without any of their 'tragedy' having happened. when given the option, they choose to live outside of 'maleness', outside of that specific idea, wanting to live without the struggle of having to specify or be assumed bc of how crushing and stressful that could be.

i really feel like it's relevant to consider that they were lying to sayo when they said it was only due to the 'incident' that she experienced that they had to perform the gender reassignment surgery? to me it would make a lot more sense that the reality of this intersex child would be easier to hide! if she was already intersex, then it's genuinely easy to consider. i think, broadly, lion was given to natsuhi as a 'baby boy' before everything happened. since she tried to kill the baby so young, it's so simple to see how these realities could have been ignored, but even then, what if natsuhi did realize this child was 'improper' or had a 'broken body'? what if, for so many things.

the idea of maleness and malehood is strangling to sayo. yes, she wants to 'fit in', but she also always truly wanted to see herself as a girl. she envisioned so many versions of herself that were the 'women' she wanted to be or wanted to grow up to be. she was never a 'proper' girl, even when she was a tiny child. she was always bad at cleaning, bad at cooking, bad at succeeding, too small, too 'stupid' according to all the girls around her. kanon exists as her dysphoria - dysphoria that in ep6 is 'killed' for the sake of saving loved ones. letting go of the mask of kanon bc her self-loathinh isn't who she wishes to be. i think further, it's important to think about how kanon exists bc sayo feels she has no 'right' to her own dysphoria unless she makes herself a 'male' alter ego to shove that into, to have some slight justification for how broken her body makes her feel. lion truly feels like an intersex child negotiating acceptable gender presentation bc being a boy is too painful and they can't assert their identity as a girl, so they opt for this middle ground that feels like a compromise between the two.

sayo has always 'been' a girl and 'seen herself' as a girl! but she is now portrayed as a failure of a girl bc of her 'broken' body and i think the intersex and trans girl readings can be interwoven into one very strong narrative. her being trans is amplified with the idea of her having intersex subtext bc she was raised thinking it could be possible, maybe, for her to live as a girl, before realizing she can only be a girl in this bird cage. now that she's a teenager, it's obvious that she's not a proper girl. if she leaves rokkenjima, the spell of her womanhood is broken and she'll have nothing. what matters is the present in which she exists and that her body 'fails' to meet the ideals of womanhood. this is vital in the context of natsuhi as well - natsuhi isn't a trans woman, but we can also see this sense of how womanhood and being degendered for her failures within that are important to her narrative and also sayo's! and in this context, sayo has always been 'out' and 'accepted', so her issue is less 'i'll never be a girl'. rather, her struggle is about how she's being taught that to be a girl is suffering and that she's doomed to tragedy for wanting. constantly realizing and thinking about all the things about the girls that people want and think of them, and realizing there was something about her body that denied her what she wanted.

i think it's a vital reality that intersex people are inherently connected with trans women, as the issue (at the end of the day) is having a body that 'fails' to meet the expectations of cissexist and bioessentialist dynamics so i love to think about this...

[lee-hakhyun]

kim dokja answers lee hakhyun's question.

can anyone dream when they want to?

he's the oldest dream, the world's most omniscient yet powerless god.

...how many years has kim dokja been here, dreaming? is this still the kim dokja we know?

lhh tells kdj that he doesn't have to handle this. that was why hsy wrote this novel, to have everyone dream, to free him from this eternity. so why..?

「But I'm the only one watching this 'world' right now.」 「Do you think it's better for this world to disappear?」

in the star stream, stories that no one read disappear. if kim dokja wasn't watching this 41st regression, it would disappear. is it right for a world where the tragedy was predetermined to never begin in the first place?

lee hakhyun starts to say that this is still a real world, and if the world is about to end, with more saddess than joy- kim dokja cuts him off, asking if it's better without it.

lee hakhyun can't answer. even if the end is a tragedy, the sadness and joy will still exist. someone would find their own happiness in the destruction.

but someone has died because of this story. jung jaewoo, jung moonho, lee hakhyun can't forget their faces.

「But someone might have lived because of this story.」

people have died due to this story, but others have survived.

like kim dokja. if this story was not created, he wouldn't have survived. there are many kinds of stories. is a sad story bad, and a happy story good? is a story of destruction meaningless? is this world, a tragedy from the start, better off not existing?

tragedy isn't just the star stream's story. even in a world without scenarios, people suffered, starved, killed each other. people still died. is this universe really different from the star stream?

we're all in ruin. life and death are just stories in between. lee hakhyun understands that, but he can't accept it. he's afraid of death, he doesn't like being sad, he's afraid of people disappearing, so he wants to run away. all stories end. unlike him, kim dokja has accepted this. happy or sad, this world was just a story. he read, and he's reading. for an unimaginable amount of years. is this still the kim dokja we know?

he asks. are you still the reader he knows. he doesn't know if he wants kim dokja to lie. to say he's still the protagonist of this story, that he'll solve this somehow. that they'll see the end of the scenarios together.

he responds, "if that's what you think."

he doesn't take that well :(. lhh is nauseous. kim dokja, clearly standing in the snowfield, looked blurry to him. he asks why he's here. why the readers came here.

kim dokja doesn't answer. for some reason or another, he can't answer. there's something wrong with this snowfield. here, it feels like a fairy tale. they conversed like it was a fairy tale. in metaphors, and symbols. this snow garden was a metaphor for 'between the lines'. nothing is written down, but everything is in between. this kim dokja isn't really him. he's the 'oldest dream', scattered throughout the universe. so he must be meeting lhh through expedient. and then he says the most cryptic bs god DAMN it kdj you're making this really hard for me

「We are the ones that make the story, but at the same time, the story writes us. The answer you want, you'll know when you complete your story.」 「What was the asnwer you found? You already read 'WOS'.」 「I read it, and I never finished it.」

all stories are already written and being written at the same time. lee hakhyun has his reponse, now.

kim dokja's question. if stories of destruction are meaningless. he doesn't know the answer yet. but he knows one thing. at least for this world, he'll prevent the destruction. he remembers the readers. dansu ahjussi, kyung sein, killer king and literaturegirl, ye hyunwoo, koo sunah, kim kyungsik.

he will see the end of this world. he remembers jung heewon, who lost her father, and yoo joonghyuk, who suffered a terrible regression.

even if this results in even more changes to this worldline, he will struggle to the end, somehow. maybe his choice will lead to a bigger tragedy for the universe. maybe people will blame him for this. and maybe they're right.

but he's not the 'oldest dream'. he can't dream about such a wide universe.

all lee hakhyun sees is the world in front of him. people who read his story, and are living his story. a little happiness before the ruin.

「Cheon Inho.」 Kim Dokja said. 「No, Hakhyun-ah.」 In spite of myself, I looked up. There was Kim Dokja. The Kim Dokja I knew. Someone who loves stories more than anyone else was talking to me. 「Whatever it may be, tell me a happy story this time.」

he leaves the snow garden. waking up, he notices some changes. the star stream has noticed his existence. ☐☐ is subject to probability restrictions now. some features have been locked until he's qualified.

his 'loss' has been recorded on the 'final wall'.

two so far.

the final wall acknowledges his contribution, and his exclusive skill evolves.

...he will get additional benefits the more 'loss' he collects.

and, his new story has been created.

[The story 'Recorder of Things That Will Disappear' has been born.]

the end of this universe has already been determined. nevertheless, this story has just begun, and lee hakhyun has sentences to write. so he will write.

after all, he still loves this story.

[starmist]

I genuinely believe Naksu haunts the narrative. Her actions and existence as Naksu heavily impact the entire story. Her past, the life she lived and the shadow of it in Mudeok. But we don't actually know any of it because Naksu is not in the story.

Like. What she lost as Cho Yeong is something that we are never allowed to forget, the loss of her body, her powers, her freedom, and her impending death as a soul shifter hangs over Mudeok's head like guillotine.

All the while we don't actually know the Shadow Assassin Naksu, she died in the first episode, as soon as the story began. Other than training and killing (soul shifters) what kind of person was she when she didn't have to rely on another person else or hide or live as someone else? We don't know and we don't ever learn any of that.

Still, her absence is the plot, yet her former existence as Naksu influences everything; Yul's actions and what she was to him, Jang Uk's goal of returning her powers, the revelation of soul shifters to Park Jin, Jang Gang's departure, Jin Mu's accomplishments, the King's Star even.

Everything is about her existence but she doesn't actually exist at all anymore.

[chat-dank]

You have the right to like your Angbang intense. You have the right to like your Angbang fucked up. You have the right to like your Angbang unhinged. You have the right to like your Angbang harmful. But you also have a right to like your Angbang fluffy, too. You are not woobifying them if you like it soft or write a fic where they say they love each other or kiss or high five or take a bite from the same sandwich or whatever. You have a different interpretation, that’s all. You’re not committing some horrid unforgivable atrocity against your fandom. You’re not an “annoying fan” if you want your ships happy, even if other people dislike you for it, the same way you are not an “annoying fan” if you like your ships intense and other people dislike you for it. You’re not a mean person for having an opinion that the majority dislikes. You’re an individual human being who has an opinion and your opinion is worth JUST as much as every other opinion in your fandom. Because that’s how opinions work. You’re not disregarding canon any more than people who bend it to fit their other non-canon ships or headcanons or other interpretations of this ship or their interpretation of any other ship or anything else that JRRT or Christopher or the Tolkien estate disagree with. We all see a piece of media and interpret it differently. It doesn’t make any of us better or worse for it. Ship and let ship. 

[snekjoy]

Bro you're telling me you don't care if I have an edgy backstory, you still believe in the inherent good of humanity and recognise that my past actions don't define me as a person? Bro you're telling me you're the happy go lucky mc and you see me (the edgy emo secondary mc) as a good person because you refuse to give up on someone who wants to do good but hasn't been given the opportunity to do so? You're telling me you believe I have good in me even if my past actions were awful, because you understand that a past as traumatic and tumultuous as mine will push people to awful things? You're telling me you love me? Nobody's told me that before. You're telling me you'll still welcome me into your team of ragtag do-gooders because you think every person deserves a second chance, and a third, and a fourth? You're telling me you'll keep trying, and keep trying, and keep trying to help me and allow me to open up and become a happier person because you think every human life deserves happiness and care? Even me? You don't care if I think I'm a horrible person undeserving of love, you believe in me and you love me and you know that it isn't actions that define a person, it's the person that defines themself? Bro....

[oofthwoods]

STEPS TO YOU! ── ˙ ̟ lando norris !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: lando norris hates the idea of soulmates. for him, it's hard to see everyone in his life with a matching tattoo, or a timer, or the inability to see colors, while he has to be content with the fact that he may never find his perfect match. that is, until he starts to see mysterious footprints around the paddock, hinting at a path he never expected.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: this is my confession that my favorite soulmate!aus are the ones where they don't think they have one. the sadness of thinking you are not destined for a great love only to find out that there's someone out there for you??? mwah chefs kiss

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: to be added.

LANDO NORRIS WAS A ROMANTIC AT HEART.

He had a secret love for romantic comedies. Watching couples overcome comical obstacles before finding their happy ending always brought a smile to his face. Though he would never admit it, he found joy in the cliched plots and endearing moments portrayed on screen.

The Brit also enjoyed weddings. Family, friends, or mere acquaintances— it didn't matter. To him, the ceremony was a tangible display of true love that existed beyond the silver screen and scripted Hollywood romances.

Despite everything, Lando knew that he would never experience anything like it. Everyone around him seemed to have a sure sign that they were meant for great love: Carlos with his past life visions shared with his beloved, George with his key pendant symbolizing his destiny, and even Oscar, who occasionally vanished, leaving a girl in his place. But not Lando. No visions, no tattoos, no words etched on his arm foretelling what his soulmate would say upon their first encounter. He felt like an outsider in a world where everyone seemed to have found their perfect match, while he knew he would be alone forever.

As Lando's realization sunk in, it was an emotional rollercoaster. He wasn't just a late bloomer; he wasn't meant to blossom at all. In his childhood innocence, he embraced his supposed independence and declared that girls were gross and he could live without someone by his side forever. But as adolescence took over, he found himself increasingly on the sidelines, watching as close friends shared stories of connection and love, filling him with a painful mix of envy and despair.

Every tale of someone else's romance felt like a dagger to the heart, a wound that refused to heal. Lando couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve this solitary fate in a world where everyone else seemed to find their soulmates.

Occasionally, he gazed up at the dark expanse above, yearning for solutions. Had the universe overlooked him or was love just not in his destiny? Some claimed that soulmates were like atoms connected since before the Big Bang, their bond enduring despite eons passing. But what did this mean for Lando? Was he destined for a solitary life even before the cosmos took shape?

As an adult, Lando struggled to convince himself that he had come to terms with his fate. He told himself over and over again that finding true love was possible without a soulmate being involved. It didn't have to be some cosmic arrangement. Yet, deep down, even as he tried to comfort himself with this reasoning, he couldn't shake the desire for something more. He yearned to be uniquely crafted for someone, to be cherished wholeheartedly despite his imperfections and weaknesses.

Lando shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. The unforgiving Melbourne sun beat down on him, its golden rays spreading across the circuit. Heat radiated all around him, almost suffocating in its intensity. He cursed his decision to wear an orange hoodie that morning as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Walking from the entrance to his garage, he couldn't escape the discomfort caused by the heat. The thick fabric clung to his skin, trapping him in its grasp as the temperature continued to rise.

Beside him, Oscar emanated an infectious energy. The pilot was fully immersed in the atmosphere of his home country's race, evident through his beaming smile. Despite the hustle and bustle around them, they maintained a calm demeanor, as if they were in a world of their own, oblivious to the cameras of the photographers trying to capture every moment.

Lando observed Oscar's anxious glances, as if he was searching for a particular person.

Deciding to break the silence, Lando asked, "Has your family arrived?"

Oscar's mind seemed elsewhere as he replied, "Oh, yeah. They're here. I'm just looking for someone else."

Someone else. Lando's brow furrowed as he thought about the mysterious bond between Oscar and his soulmate. Every now and then, without warning or explanation, the Australian would switch places with the girl he was connected to. Initially, Lando feared that this could happen during a race and result in a disastrous outcome. However, he soon realized that the universe was smart enough to only make these switches when both were safe.

"You met her?" Lando finally asked, curious about Oscar's soulmate. He looked at him with confusion before smiling sadly.

"Not yet, and she's not the one i'm looking or," Oscar replied, bringing a small sense of relief to Lando. He immediately felt guilty for wishing that others wouldn't find their soulmates, knowing it was selfish and petty.

Additionally, Lando could recall a peculiar incident from the previous year, when Oscar suddenly disappeared, and a girl had surprisingly turned up in the McLaren garage, clad in pajamas and exuding an unusual calmness about the situation. He remembered her as a charming and witty girl, and the thought that Oscar had someone special to share his life with brought a comforting warmth to Lando's heart, though it was tinged with a hint of jealousy.

"I have a friend coming over today," Oscar interjected, breaking through Lando's thoughts. "We went to elementary school together, but it's been a while since we've seen each other. She finished college last year, and managed to take a few days off to visit."

Lando nodded along as Oscar talked about his friend, dividing his attention between their conversation and the busy paddock. He couldn't help but notice weird stains on the ground and wished people would be more considerate of the space.

The two McLaren pilots still had a few minutes before the first meeting and the final free practice before qualifying. They decided to take refuge from the scorching sun inside their respective driver's rooms, seeking a moment of tranquility before the hustle and bustle of the track.

Lando made his way down the narrow path to the driver's room, noticing strange marks on the floor. The team garage was typically spotless, and he couldn't comprehend how it had become so messy.

"Who the hell made this mess?" Lando furrowed his brow and glanced around the room.

Oscar, perplexed, asked, "What mess?"

With a chuckle, Lando replied, "Are you blind? Look at the damn floor, it's covered in stains." He pointed to the ground with his arm.

Oscar tried to play along, forcing a laugh. "Mate, did you hit your head on the way here? The floor is spotless, as always."

Lando's eyes narrowed as he examined the stains on the ground more closely. What he imagined was dirt from a worker's shoe, appeared to not be random splatters; they seemed deliberate, almost forming a pattern. And then, in a sudden moment of clarity, Lando's heart skipped a beat as he realized the stains looked like footsteps.

"This is strange," he muttered, crouching down to get a better look.

Hearing Lando's concern, Oscar joined him and peered at the marks. "What are you thinking?"

Lando's mind was filled with various thoughts. He wondered if the intense heat was causing him to hallucinate. A thought crossed his mind that someone had wandered into the garage barefoot, possibly in search of new shoes. Everything seemed mildly possible.

Despite his efforts to suppress it, a nagging part inside him reminded him of the nights he spent wondering about potential invisible soulmate connections. He couldn't help but recall the excitement of discovering invisible threads - like leaving colorful marks upon touch or having their thoughts connect when within a certain distance, almost like telepathy. Things that wouldn't appear on his body when he turned eight, but still meant he had someone.

The 15-year-old version of himself seemed to be pounding on his chest, making him remember the thread through footsteps that he had long forgotten about, and started to question if even existed. Yet, Oscar didn't seem to notice the distinct marks on the floor and Lando couldn't possibly be hallucinating from dehydration.

Oscar placed his hand on Lando's back and felt a shiver run through his friend's body. "Lando, you're starting to worry me. Do you want to go to the medical bay?"

Lando quickly got up from the floor, shaking off Oscar's touch. "No need, Os. I'm fine." He forced a smile, but there was a lump in his throat as he tried to swallow down the fear and uncertainty. He didn't want to get his hopes up again, only to have them crushed once more.

"What do you think of the place?" Oscar's voice startles you from behind,.

A smile lights up your face as you turn around to see your friend in person for the first time in a long while. You eagerly embrace him with open arms, attempting to lift him off the ground like you used to when you were kids.

"Wow, okay, you're not as light as you used to be."

Oscar chuckles, and playfully returns the favor by lifting you up. "Nope, I'm not. Or maybe you're just not as strong anymore."

You tease, giving his shoulder a light slap. He winces and holds onto it, pretending it hurts.

"It's impressive." You answer his previous question. "So many people, so much noise, but I can see why you love it here." You take in the bustling atmosphere with a laugh.

The Aussie leans back against something and asks with a playful glint in his eye, "So, what's been going on in your world?"

You chuckle, immediately feeling at ease with him. "Just the usual post-grad life. Trying to figure it all out."

"Will you stick with auto sports?" He asks hopefully.

"I have an interview lined up to shadow a F2 journalist, so let's hope for the best." You make a gesture of crossed fingers. You thought that graduating with a degree in Journalism would give you direction in life, but almost a year later, you're still searching for your calling.

"It's already yours. I've never met anyone who could get honest answers from drivers like you do." He tried to calm you.

"I interviewed you once for a college project, Os. I don't think that counts." You chuckle.

"Come on, I was in f2 back then. That's definitely something to put on your resume."

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod.

It didn't feel like it had been so long since you two last saw each other in person.

As your gaze sweeps over the cluttered garage once more, something strange catches your eye, and you furrow your brow in confusion.

"Isn't Easter still a ways off?" Your eyes follow a trail of small, misshapen footprints leading around the room and you can't help but comment, "And whoever left those prints definitely didn't excel in their Arts & Crafts classes. They look nothing like bunny paws."

Oscar couldn't believe it. What was going on with his friends and footprints that day?

He squints and shakes his head. "I don't see anything," he says, trying to follow your gaze.

"Of course you don't. I've been telling you to get your eyes checked for years," you tease with a laugh. You walk over to him and point directly at the pawprint (that looks more like a footprint) on the ground that you can clearly see, even though it's slightly faded. Oscar looks at you with confusion.

"Are you and Lando in on this together?" He starts to suspect a prank.

"Lando? Your teammate?" You shake your head. "I've never even met him, Os." A mischievous grin spreads across your face. "But maybe I should."

Oscar's gaze shifted from the empty space in front of him. "Don't even go there, missy. Teammates are strictly off-limits."

You couldn't help but tease, "Why, does he have a soulmate?"

Oscar used to give you pitying looks whenever you mentioned not having a love thread, but it had been a while since then. He missed all of you - including your bad puns.

"I don't know. We've never discussed it," Oscar shuddered. He and Lando had grown closer over the past year, but the Brit never seemed to want to talk about that topic, so Oscar left it alone.

You continue to tease, "I still don't see why he's off-limits."

"Can you imagine how traumatizing it would be to see Lando making out with my best friend?"

"It wouldn't be any weirder than collecting bugs with my best friend and then suddenly having a random girl in front of me," your counterpart argues.

"Touché" It wouldn't be right for Oscar to dictate who you should pursue, especially since you had no control over randomly talking to his soulmate after swapping places. "It still would be fucking weird."

"You know, if two people saw those pawprints and you didn't, I think it's safe to say who's the one in the wrong here," You nudged him playfully. "Maybe you're just not looking close enough. Let me guide you."

Stepping closer to the mysterious prints, you crouched down and examined them closely. "They seem... fresh, don't they?"

Oscar joined you, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out any shape or form on the ground. "I swear, there's nothing there. Are you sure this isn't some elaborate prank?"

You shook your head, running your fingers over the indentations. "No, these are real."

Despite trying his best, Oscar couldn't make out what he was supposed to be looking at. "Alright, you got me. Congrats on your and Lando's little joke."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Your frustration grows as you wonder how he could have missed the obvious footprints right in front of him.

"He saw these so-called "footprints" too." He gestured with air quotes, convinced that his best friend and teammate were up to some strange prank together.

Before you could protest, someone called out your friend's name. "I have to go, it's my engineer," he said, getting up from the floor. He gave you a friendly smile that quickly turned into a knowing smirk. "And don't follow the footprints, Alice. They won't lead you to wonderland."

Wonderland or not, you would be stupid not to follow it.

As you follow the trail of footprints through the crowded garage, your curiosity builds with each step. You maneuver carefully around toolboxes and piles of spare parts, focusing on the prints as they lead you deeper into the maze-like space.

At last, you reach the end of the trail and come face to face with a closed door. Your heart races with excitement and anticipation as you stare at the sign above it: "Lando Norris' Driver's Room"

You furrow your brow in confusion. How could Norris' driver's room be connected to the strange footprints you've been tracking? Is this some kind of elaborate prank that Oscar roped Lando into as well?

Despite the nagging feeling that something was off, you stood your ground and refused to give into whatever it was that was trying to lure you in. You mentally prepared yourself to turn around and head back to Oscar's garage, where at least you felt familiar, and he couldn't pull pranks on you in front of his entire team.

And then, as if on cue, the door swings open, revealing Lando Norris standing on the other side. His presence fills the doorway, commanding attention with an effortless grace that leaves you breathless.

In that moment, you can't help but drink in the sight of him—the way the soft glow of the room illuminates his features, casting his angular jawline and chiseled cheekbones in sharp relief. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of azure, hold a glint of mischief as they meet yours, and you find yourself drowning in their depths.

Lando is clad in his fireproofs, the sleek material hugging his lean frame in all the right places. His racesuit hangs by his waist, a vibrant burst of color against the backdrop of the room. There's a confidence in the way he carries himself, a hint of swagger that speaks of countless hours spent behind the wheel of a racing car.

But it's not just his physical appearance that captivates you—it's the strange electricity that seems to crackle in the air when your eyes meet.

Your heart skips a beat as you find yourself in a predicament, searching for a clever excuse. You definitely didn't want to appear as a stalker-fan who snuck in. "Um, I was just... uh..."

"Oscar?" Lando interrupts, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Yes, Oscar!" You latch onto the name like a lifeline. "I'm a friend of his."

"He mentioned you," Lando nods, a friendly grin spreading across his face.

"Ah, so Oscar's been gossiping about me, huh?" You tease, a playful smirk curling your lips as you lock gazes with Lando. "I hope he said only nice things."

Lando chuckles softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Oh, absolutely. But he forgot to mention how gorgeous you are"

You feel a warm flush creeping up your cheeks at his compliment, and you playfully bat your eyelashes. "Oh, did he now? Well, I'll have to thank him for the rave reviews later."

An easy silence falls between you, charged with unspoken chemistry and the promise of potential. Lando breaks the quiet with a mischievous smirk, closing the gap between you.

"Care for a little tour while we wait for Oscar? I promise not to lead you astray... too much," he adds with a wink.

Despite the lingering adrenaline from the close call and the unexpected encounter with Lando, you find yourself nodding eagerly. Oscar had been too occupied to give you a proper tour, and you were itching to explore the place.

"Lead the way, but I'm holding you to that promise of not getting lost," you tease, motioning for him to lead. As he begins to walk, you fall into step beside him, the playful brush of your shoulders sending sparks flying.

"Do you have a habit of getting lost?" Lando asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock dismay. "Define 'a habit'," you retort, a playful sparkle in your eyes. "When we were younger, Oscar and I used to roam around this massive mall near our homes. I lost count of how many times he had to page me over the speakers because I got sidetracked and wandered off."

"I'll have to keep a close eye on you, then," Lando quips. "Can't have Oscar's friend getting lost on my watch."

You chuckle at his teasing, reveling in the easy banter between you two. As he continues to show you around the McLaren paddock, pointing out various spots and sharing amusing anecdotes, you find yourself drawn to his effortless charm and infectious energy.

"You know, I never expected today to turn out like this," you admit, stealing a sideways glance at Lando. "But I'm glad it did. Especially if it means getting a personal tour from McLaren's charming star driver."

Lando beams at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Consider yourself lucky, then. Not everyone gets the VIP treatment around here." He pauses for a moment before adding with a playful grin, "Although, I must confess, it's rather challenging to focus on giving a proper tour with you flashing that smile."

Your heart flutters at his words, but you play it cool with a playful roll of your eyes. "You need to work on your flirting skills, dude."

"But do they work?" Lando counters with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe. Keep trying, and who knows where it might lead."

"Ah, so you're admitting my charm has potential?" Lando shoots back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I didn't say that," you reply with a smirk..

"Ouch, that hurts," Lando feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Here I am, giving you the grand tour, and you won't even give me credit for my rizz."

"Okay, okay, maybe just a little credit," you concede with a laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But don't let it get to your head."

Lando grins. "Don't worry, I'll try to contain my ego."

As the tour comes to an end, you and Lando bid your goodbyes, thanking each other for the enjoyable time spent together. It's time for qualifying, and Lando is escorted towards his car by a member of his team. Just before he gets in, he looks back towards you with a faint smile. In that moment, his gaze locks with yours, and he freezes as a realization dawns upon him. The footsteps he had noticed earlier, weaving through the McLaren paddock, had a familiar pattern. They were from you.

He looks back to the path he took with you, and the marks on the floor as clear as day. They appear in front of his driver's room, in the small cafeteria where he took you to get the best coffee from the paddock (his words), and they follow you as you make your way to Oscar's side of the garage.

Lando's lips part slightly, as if he couldn't get enough air.

Before Lando could take a step towards you, his engineer's firm grip on his arm pulls him back. "Where are you going? Quali is about to start," his engineer reminds him, snapping him out of the mesmerizing realization.

Lando looks torn, torn between the exhilaration of discovering a potential connection he never noticed before and the responsibility of his racing career. He gives you one last longing look before reluctantly turning away, his mind buzzing with newfound thoughts and possibilities.

As he slides into the driver's seat and revs up the engine, he can't shake off the image of your smile, the sound of your laughter, and now, the footprints you left behind that seemed to lead straight to him. The engine roars to life, drowning out his racing thoughts as he steels himself for the high-stakes qualifying round ahead.

There were various theories floating around regarding why Lando secured the pole position. Some attributed it to an engine change, while others praised McLaren's performance on the specific circuit. But deep down, Lando knew that his main motivation was to finish everything quickly so he could talk to you.

He heard his engineer's voice in his ear through the radio, but he wasn't really paying attention. He knew he had interviews to do, photos to take, and a tire to sign, but as he stepped out of the car, his mind was consumed with thoughts of the girl he never knew existed.

After the whirlwind of interviews subsides and Lando returns to the bustling garage, his mind remains fixated on one thought: finding you. He navigates through the maze of mechanics and engineers, his determination unwavering.

Spotting Oscar amidst the commotion, Lando strides over, his expression a mix of eagerness and urgency. "Hey, Oscar," he calls out, drawing his friend's attention.

Oscar looks up from his conversation with a mechanic, a puzzled expression crossing his face at the intensity in Lando's gaze. "Hey, Lando. What's up?" he asks, curious yet cautious.

"I need to talk to your friend," Lando replies, his tone serious.

Oscar's confusion deepens, and a hint of protectiveness flickers in his eyes. "My friend? Why do you need to speak to her?" he inquires, his tone guarded.

Lando hesitates for a moment, searching for the right words. "I... I just need to ask her something," he says evasively, unwilling to divulge the true reason behind his urgency.

Oscar studies Lando intently, sensing there's more to the story than meets the eye. "Is everything okay?" he probes, his concern evident.

Lando shifts uncomfortably under Oscar's scrutiny, torn between his desire to find you and his reluctance to reveal too much. "Yeah, everything's fine," he assures, attempting to brush off Oscar's concern.

But Oscar isn't convinced, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Look, if you're going to involve my friend in something, I need to know what's going on," he insists firmly.

Lando sighs, realizing he can't keep dodging the question. "It's just... I met her earlier, and I... I need to talk to her," he admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Oscar's expression softens as he recognizes the sincerity in Lando's words. He may be protective, but he also trusts his instincts when it comes to his friends. "Okay," he relents, nodding in understanding. "She's in my driver's room."

Before Lando can make his way there, Oscar grabs his arm, a serious expression etched on his face. "Look, I know we don't talk about this, but…" He hesitates momentarily. "I don't know if you have a soulmate, but she doesn't. And I don't want you giving her false hope, only to disappear the moment someone mentions what's on your arm, or whatever."

Lando offers a reassuring smile. "You're wrong."

"Listen, I don't care if your mark is on your arm or your ass, my point was-"

"It's not about that. It's about her not having a soulmate," Lando interjects.

Oscar's expression turns grave. "What do you mean?"

"Footsteps," Lando responds simply.

Oscar's frustration bubbles to the surface. "What's going on with both of you? First, you mention footsteps, then her." He glances at his teammate, who meets his gaze with a serene smile. In Lando's eyes, there's a glimmer of hope and relief that Oscar can't quite comprehend. Initially, he considers escorting both of his friends to the medical bay, puzzled by their strange behavior regarding footsteps that only they seem to perceive—

Footsteps that only they can see.

A sudden realization dawns upon Oscar, his eyes widening. "You two are soulmates."

"Hopefully," Lando murmurs. "I—I never thought I had one. No marks, no dreams, nothing. But this morning, I saw footsteps. And then we met, and I showed her around. We were side by side, so I didn't pay much attention. But before Qualifying, I noticed her walking toward your side of the garage, and there were footsteps leading there."

As the realization settles between them, Oscar reluctantly releases Lando's arm, allowing him to continue on his way. However, just as Lando begins to move away, Oscar calls out to him, his tone a mix of seriousness and jest.

"Lando, wait," Oscar says, his voice tinged with playful threat. "Soulmate or not, if you ever hurt my best friend, I'll make sure to crash into you in every single race."

Lando stops in his tracks, turning back to face Oscar with a wry smile. "Fair warning," he replies, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "But I can assure you, if I ever did hurt her, I'd deserve every crash."

The Brit's heart races as he stands before the door, realizing he doesn't need to ask Oscar about the girl when the footsteps guide him straight to her. He wonders if he'd ever noticed those phantom imprints before, dismissing them as mere smudges or dirt. And in a fleeting moment of clarity, he wonders if those same invisible marks had led you to his door earlier, tracing a path he hadn't noticed until now.

As Lando hesitates outside the door, uncertainty gripping his thoughts, he contemplates his next move. Should he pace back and forth until you notice the traces on the floor? Or perhaps he should boldly declare their connection as soulmates upon entering? Before he can settle on a plan, the door swings open.

"Wow!" You exclaim, your initial fright giving way to laughter. "Okay, I probably deserved that. Second time's the charm, right?"

"Uhm," Lando's throat constricts, his words stumbling over each other. In his mind, this conversation had seemed much simpler. "Look, I—I need to ask you something. Do you… have a soulmate?"

Your gaze hardens, but it's not anger that flickers in your eyes, only a hint of sorrow. "We just met today," you confess, your tone tinged with vulnerability. Lando realizes it might be an invasive question; after all, some people prefer to keep such matters private. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—" Lando fumbles, his nerves getting the best of him.

"It's alright, I understand," you say, crossing your arms with a sad smile. "You do?"

"I do," Lando confirms, gesturing subtly to the scattered footsteps that crisscross the room.

"Cool," you respond, your expression disoriented.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant." Lando's frustration mounts as he struggles to articulate his thoughts. Was this what it felt like to be stupid in love?

"It's okay, Lando, really," you reassure him gently. "I know some people like to have... fun before finding their soulmate. I won't judge you for that." Yet beneath your understanding tone, a pang of sadness lingers, the thought of forever being a mere diversion rather than a final destination.

"Listen," Lando interjects, laying his hands gently atop yours, a jolt of electricity coursing between them once more. "Earlier today, you saw those footsteps, didn't you?"

"Actually, yes," you reply, confusion clouding your features. Oscar had vehemently denied their existence, leaving you to question your own perception.

"Me too. I saw footsteps this morning. Then I noticed footsteps leading towards Oscar's garage," Lando reveals, his voice soft with emotion. He silently pleads for you not to notice the trembling in his hands. "And now, I see footsteps again. Emerging from the door and heading toward the couch. A circle of them, right in front of the television."

As Lando confides in you, his vulnerability palpable, you begin to piece it together. Your eyes widen in realization as you look around. Although you can't see the invisible footsteps he's describing, you can distinctly perceive a path, stretching from the door to where Lando stands before you.

"Every step leads me to you," he murmurs, his gaze locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

A tender smile graces your lips as you absorb Lando's words, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. "I never thought I had a soulmate," you confess softly, your voice tinged with wonder.

Lando's own smile mirrors yours, a mixture of affection and amusement dancing in his eyes. "Look at that, one thing that we already have in common," he replies, his tone gentle yet playful.

You share a moment of quiet understanding, the air thick with unspoken emotions swirling between you. It's a realization that defies logic yet feels undeniably right, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring you together. Well, it did, didn't it? Maybe you should apologize for all the times your cursed at it.

"And here we are," you say, a hint of awe coloring your words.

"Here we are," Lando echoes, his gaze never leaving yours.

A mischievous glint twinkles in your eyes as you playfully tease, "You know, when I suggested you keep trying to flirt with me, this wasn't exactly the outcome I had in mind."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. "Well, lucky for me, there's no one I'd rather up my game with than you."

You laugh, feeling the tension ease between you as the playful banter continues. "Smooth talker," you tease, giving him a playful nudge.

"Just stating the truth," Lando replies, his tone lighthearted yet sincere. "Besides, you will have to deal with it for the rest of your life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the playful façade giving way to a deeper connection between you. "I suppose you have a point," you concede with a smile, feeling yourself drawn even closer to him.

Lando's eyes light up with mischief as an idea sparks in his mind. "You know," he begins, a playful grin tugging at his lips, "I've spent my entire life thinking you didn't exist. I have a lot of making up to do."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his bold statement, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, intrigued by his playful demeanor. "Oh really?" you reply, a teasing glint in your eyes. "And just how do you plan on making it up to me?"

Lando's grin widens as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I was thinking we could start here. I can't really go out, but my hotel has an amazing restaraunt" he suggests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "After that... Have you ever been to Monaco? Or Italy? Maybe after that, we could..."

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm, charmed by his playful spirit. "I say you're full of surprises, Lando Norris," you tease, interrupting him, a playful sparkle dancing in your eyes. "But I like the way you think."

A bashful smile graces Lando's lips as he chuckles softly. "Great," he replies, his tone now tinged with a hint of shyness. "I've got a meeting to attend, but after that, how about we meet back here?"

"You'll know exactly where to find me."

As warmth floods through Lando's heart, a tender smile graces his lips. In that fleeting moment of realization, it dawns on him—he'll never doubt your existence again. Not when there's a trail of footsteps leading him straight back to you, a path he'll eagerly follow time and time again.

Lando Norris is a romantic at heart. The universe, in all its wisdom, understood that he deserved nothing less than the greatest of loves.

fun fact i actually hate this

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed. crossed names means i couldn't tag you) :: @saturnssunflower @sopheeg @minkyungseokie @alexander-hamilhoe @butterfly-lover @cool-ultra-nerd @tomriddleswhorecruxes @everbizzare @chonkybonky @styl1shl1v

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”

[yuujispinkhair]

Mine

Megumi loves you. He loves you so much that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. But past experiences taught him that everyone always ends up leaving him. He cannot let this happen. He will make sure the two of you get your happy ever after!

Halloween Masterlist 2023

This story is my contribution to @nagumoan 's Dance with the Dead Collab. Thank you so much for organizing this lovely Halloween event, Loni!!

Pairing: Megumi x Reader (female) Genre: Yandere Romance, smut Word Count: 9k Warnings: 18+, dark content, yandere Megumi, unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessiveness, murder (Megumi kills someone, but it's not Reader!!), smut, manipulation, gaslighting, baby trapping, breeding, pregnancy. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The same word keeps repeating over and over again in Megumi's mind as he looks at you lying in his lap. So beautiful. So perfect to him. You look up at him, a small smile playing around your lips, and Megumi's heart throbs.

He smiles back at you while his long fingers pet your hair. His dark blue eyes gaze deeply into yours, letting himself drown in your eyes, in your love, in your trust. You are his. His wife, his lover, his everything. You belong to him, and he belongs to you.

Mine.

Megumi likes that word. It holds a special power. Because what is love if not possessiveness?

If you truly love someone, you should give yourself to them fully. You should commit yourself to them. True love is only true love if it lasts forever. It's the only kind of love Megumi can accept. Everything else is just a lie.

Megumi doesn't think he is a good man.

He believes there is something flawed about his existence. An inadequacy. It lives in his bones, in his blood, in his soul, filling every fiber of his being.

He grew up thinking that there must be something wrong with him. Why else would his father have left him? It must have been because Megumi was lacking something. Because he was not enough.

He always thought he was undeserving of love. That he was cursed to spend his life in the shadows, rejected and lonely.

Until you came into his life and filled his darkness with your light. You showed him another world, another life. A life full of love and affection. It is safe to say he adored you right from the start.

You didn't let him scare you off with his aloof act, with his sarcasm and eye-rolling and rude comments. You saw beneath that act. You refused to let him push you away. You just smiled even brighter at him, took his hand, and pulled him into your world of laughter and warmth and love.

But the problem with stepping into the light is that you don't want to return to the dark afterward. At least, that's how it is for Megumi. You changed him in a devastating way. You gave him everything but also burdened him with the risk of losing everything.

Ever since the day you came into his life, Megumi has been working on keeping you there.

He put a huge diamond ring on your finger after only one year, staking his claim, giving you a promise, and asking for a promise from you in return.

Megumi doesn't do anything less than forever. Lifelong devotion, lifelong commitment. That's what he offers you and what he needs in return. His dark blue eyes searched for your reassurance when he knelt before you, holding your hand gently but firmly in his, offering you all of him. His life, his heart, his loyalty until the end.

He liked what he saw in your eyes. The love and warmth in them had become his everything. When you said yes and became his wife, Megumi knew he would do anything for you and for this love the two of you shared.

Megumi thinks he isn't a good man in general, but he tries his very best for you. He wants to be good for you. He wants to be the man you seem to see in him.

There is something religious about the way he adores you. There never was a God in Megumi's life. No one deserved that title after what life had thrown at him since he was little. But you, you are godly to him.

And Megumi is dedicated to worshiping you like a Goddess. He is dedicated to offering sacrifices at the foot of your altar. He is committed to protecting you, to care for you, to cherish you. To kneel before you, his pretty face pressed against your wet cunt, his strong hands caressing every inch of your skin, his soft lips kissing you, loving you, worshipping your body.

He is there to make your life easier with an endless row of little acts of service, one after the other. Driving you everywhere, preparing a hot bath for you after work, buying your favorite snacks, giving you backrubs and orgasms. Making sure to catalog all of your reactions to his touches so he learns how to fuck you the right way. The way that makes your eyes roll back and cling desperately to him, moaning how good he makes you feel.

Megumi thinks he isn't a good person, but he is a good husband. Maybe not everything about him is flawed. Maybe there is something that's worthy of love. Because that's what you tell him when you cup his face with both your soft hands and smile at him,

"Oh, Megumi, you're doing it again. I can literally see how you are overthinking. Don't worry that much, darling. Don't make everything so hard for yourself. I love you, Megumi. You're the best husband I could ever wish for."

He huffs softly, but a gentle smile lights up his face as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his tall, lean-muscled body. He rests his chin on the top of your head, loving how your breathing syncs with his as you snuggle against him.

"I love you too."

And yet, even as he says them, Megumi knows that the words alone aren't enough to convey his feelings for you. But he hopes he can show you how much he loves you.

Fear is a part of Megumi. It was put into him at a young age when the people who were supposed to love him and care for him left him. A mother who died too soon. A father who went to get cigarettes and never returned. A long row of different foster families who only endured little Megumi's grumpy nature and his outbursts of violence for so long before they dropped him. An older sister who did her best to love him and help him, only to get into an accident that made her fall into a coma, leaving an angry, lost, and scared teenage Megumi behind.

It taught Megumi early on that there is nothing in life he can rely on. It taught him that everyone would leave him eventually. It convinced him that some cruel fate was always walking in the shadows beside him, always waiting to dig its claws into Megumi and drown him in loneliness again.

Your light has chased away most of that darkness that haunts Megumi, but a part of it will always remain.

It flares alive when Megumi sees the way your eyes sparkle when your favorite idol appears on the TV screen. When he sees you mouth the lyrics to that guy's song, and you have that little smile on your face and sway your hips gently to the music. A song about love. Do you think about Megumi when you hear it? Or do you imagine a romance with the singer?

It makes Megumi shove the limited edition of the new album you brought home into the trash when you are at work the next day and act innocent when you search feverishly for it. He tells you that he saw it just yesterday evening lying on top of the books you wanted to return to the library after work today. You might have accidentally put it in the bag, and it must have slipped out while you were at the library. You know how clumsy you can be. But it's ok, don't worry about it. He loves you, and now let him kiss you so you forget about that CD!

The darkness flares alive when Megumi sees you carefully applying your makeup and styling your hair in the morning before work. Why do you feel the need to make yourself look so pretty for your coworkers? You shouldn't care about what they think of you.

"Darling, you've already taken up the bathroom for twenty minutes."

He walks up behind you and slings his arms around your waist, long fingers sprawling possessively over your hips as he leans down to kiss your neck. He gets a whiff of your perfume, the sexy one, the one he always associates with you under him, moaning his name and looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as your legs rest on Megumi's shoulders and he turns his head to kiss your ankle and breathe in the soft traces of perfume.

Cold fear forms a knot in his stomach, and his fingers tighten on your body.

"You dress up like you are going on a date... It's only work. Don't waste so much time on your makeup. Join me on a morning walk instead. Hm? What do you say, my love? The dogs would be happy too if you join us."

He sounds calm, a bit amused even. Carefully constructed criticism, so it won't make you think he is jealous. Megumi knows jealousy is a reason for many relationship problems and breakups. So, he is careful to hide his genuine emotions. He is careful to veil his true intentions behind this mask of playful teasing.

You laugh softly and lift your head to look at him in the mirror. Your small hands land on Megumi's and interlace your fingers with his.

"Aww baby, does that mean you think I look pretty?"

You playfully bat your eyelashes at him in the mirror, and Megumi's lips lift in a soft smile.

"Of course I do. My wife always looks beautiful."

He loves the feeling of your wedding ring pressing against the matching ring on his finger. He trails more kisses down your neck with growing urgency. Maybe he should show you how much he treasures you. Maybe he should remind you who you belong to. Maybe if he fucks you good enough, he will be the only one on your mind while you're at work.

His hands slip under your skirt, pushing it up as he watches you in the mirror, blue eyes looking intently as he brushes his long fingers slowly over your panty-clad pussy, rubbing your clit tenderly through the thin fabric.

He can see your lashes flutter, can see the way your lips fall open, even as a weak complaint leaves them,

"Megumi... not now. I will be late for work..."

But Megumi knows what he's doing, and soon your resolve breaks, and you are putty in his hands, leaning against him as he kisses and caresses you. Whining softly as he pushes your panties to the side and rubs your swollen wet clit in tender circles, spreading your creamy wetness over your silky folds, driving you crazy with his tender touches.

Your hands grab the sink tightly when he pushes two long fingers into your wet creamy heat, fucking you slowly with them until you are on the brink of cumming all over his hand.

His heart feels so full, and he can't help but smile when you tremble in his arms and whine and moan, begging him to please fuck you for real.

You cling desperately to him when he lifts you up and carries you back to the bedroom. You moan his name needily when he fucks you hard into the mattress, in a mating press, pressing your knees to your chest so he can go extra deep, rolling his hips slowly against yours, basking in the sounds of your wet pussy, taking his cock. Feeling light-headed upon hearing the noises you make for him, the soft mewls and loud moans.

He tells you to look at him, so he can get the reassurance of seeing the pleasure on your face and the love in your eyes when you cum for him, pussy clenching greedily around him, milking his cock as if you never want to let him go again.

He groans in satisfaction, eyes finally closing when he feels his orgasm wash over him, his cock twitching and spilling his seed deep inside you.

Afterward, Megumi helps you put on your panties again, pulling them up, even as you complain,

"W...wait, baby. I have to wash up first."

His blue eyes are stern when he looks at you and shakes his head.

"No, go like that. I want you to be my good girl and walk around all day with my cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. Think about me anytime you feel it. Think about how much I love you, darling. And once you come back home, I will fill you up again. Will you do that for me? Will you be my good girl?"

You bite your lip and grin at him, obviously turned on by his words,

"Ok, sir. I'll be your good girl."

You let him pull up your panties again and fix your skirt for you, moaning when he kisses your cheek and praises you for being so good for him.

Megumi feels much more at ease again when he drops you at work. You kiss him goodbye a bit longer and deeper than necessary, your tongue flicking against his, whispering against his lips before you part from him,

"That was such a hot morning, baby."

He feels calm and reassured when he watches you leave the car and slowly walk towards the entrance of the large building you work in. He even sings along to the music playing on the radio on the drive home and hums a little tune to himself when he takes the dogs for a walk in the park before he leaves for work.

Megumi knows he isn't a good man, but he can't help it.

There is this wolf inside him who watches with cold, narrowed eyes as you say goodbye to your coworker before you jog over to where Megumi is waiting in the parked car for you.

There is this beast inside him that digs its claws into his heart and whispers all those hurtful things into his ear.

Didn't you smile at your coworker a bit too brightly? Didn't you stand a bit too close to him? Didn't you laugh a bit too loud at whatever he said?

Megumi grits his teeth, silently growling at the wolf to shut up and fuck off.

Leave me alone! She loves me. She is my wife.

But the wolf whispers back,

But how long will she be your wife? How long before she finds someone better?

Megumi huffs and hits the steering wheel before he grabs it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He closes his eyes and counts to ten, trying to calm his breathing.

Just in time before you yank open the passenger seat door and greet him with a broad smile and a loud,

"Heyyy, baby!"

You climb into the seat and lean over to greet him with a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Megumi can't help but reach out to put a hand on the back of your neck, elegant long fingers caressing your skin as he pulls you closer to kiss you on the mouth, a deep possessive kiss, letting you know who you belong to. Hoping that your coworker sees it.

But when he pulls away, Megumi's mask is perfectly in place. Calm, aloof, a soft smile lighting up his pretty face, blue eyes looking deeply into yours as he asks you innocently,

"How was work, sweetheart?"

You sigh and tell him about boring meetings and a workload that is much too high to handle.

He fucks you a bit harder that night, handles you a bit rougher. Harder thrusts, firmer touches. His strong hands capture your wrists, wrap tightly around them, and fix them above your head while Megumi's tall, lean-muscled body presses you down onto the mattress. His face is buried in your neck, groaning softly, whimpering your name and how much he loves you.

He sees the bruises on your wrists at breakfast the next morning, feeling guilt wash over him. Guilt that makes him hug you gently and make your coffee extra good. He breathes tender kisses on your wrists, long black lashes flutter around his dark blue eyes, his voice is low, full of regret,

"It seems I was a bit too rough last night. I am so sorry, darling."

"It's fine, Megumi, please don't worry, baby. I like it when you get so passionate."

Megumi feels the iron grip around his heart loosen. He smiles softly into your hair and kisses the top of your head, wrapping a strong arm around you and hugging you. He likes that you are so much smaller than he is, the way your face rests against his toned chest. The way you snuggle into his strong arms, sighing happily when Megumi hugs you even tighter. The way you seek the safety of his arms and the warmth of his body. The way you trust him so completely.

When Megumi pulls away, he takes your left hand and brings it to his lips to place a lingering kiss on the large sparkling diamond on your wedding ring.

Mine.

"And then she threw her stuff into a suitcase and just left!"

Your eyes are sparkling excitedly, hands gesturing wildly as you sit across from Megumi at the dinner table, apparently finding great joy in re-telling the newest drama in your friend group.

Megumi doesn't share your excitement. On the contrary, his blood is rushing loudly in his ears. He feels sick. His hand is clutching the steak knife so tightly that it hurts.

He lifts his gaze from the red juices of the medium rare meat building a little sea on the white plate. His blue eyes narrow as he fixes you with a frown,

"And she just threw her marriage away? How long have they been together? Seven years? And she just left him?"

"Megumi! Didn't you listen? He forgot her birthday! And he spent more and more time playing his online games instead of doing things with her! She was frustrated!"

And that was enough to end a marriage?

Megumi gulps hard.

Well, that's how the world ticks, right? That's how people tick. They say they love you, but then they just leave. Promises mean nothing. Words mean nothing. They get forgotten, they get twisted, they get taken back.

Seven years.

Your friend had been with her husband for seven years, and she left him because of minor, unimportant things. Instead of fighting for her love, instead of trying to talk to him and fix things, she picked the easy way and left. Just like the way most people do nowadays.

All those breakups, all those divorces. All those single parents and abandoned kids. All the tabloids are full of celebrities who split up after decades of presenting themselves as the happiest couple ever.

How is Megumi still supposed to trust in love? In you? In your feelings for him?

What if your friends put something into your head? What if one of them voices their doubt about Megumi being good enough for you? What if? What if they give you some crazy idea about looking for someone else who is not as flawed as him?

They already advocate giving up on your partner and acting as if being selfish and throwing relationships away is something one should be proud of and celebrate.

Those people are a bad influence on you. He has to do something about this.

It's easy.

He calls his cousin Maki, asking her to meet him for lunch, using family business as an excuse. He knows she will not come alone, and of course, he is right. By her side is her girlfriend Nobara, always so chatty, always so gossipy. The perfect person to help him achieve his goal.

Megumi quickly finishes the business talk with Maki, and then it's time to set his plan in motion. A few comments here and there about you feeling down lately because there seems to be drama in your friend group, and naturally, Nobara is all ears, leaning across the table, asking him for more details, grinning broadly as she soaks up the gossip greedily.

He can stir the pot. He can make up lies. He can make them look bad. He can make Nobara become indignant and invested and already typing a text message furiously.

And nothing will ever get traced back to Megumi. No one would ever think he is the type for gossip. He is a very serious and professional man who wouldn't be caught dead indulging in petty things like that. No one will believe Nobara if she mentions Megumi was involved in this.

And the beautiful thing about gossip is that no one ever finds out who started it. Once it gets released into the world, it grows and mutates until it's so messy that it's like it has its own will. No one can tell anymore who said what.

Megumi leaves with a content smile. He set things into motion today. Now, he just has to wait.

It takes three days until he catches you standing in the kitchen, your coffee forgotten, wiping tears off your cheeks and looking miserably up at him as he walks towards you with concerned blue eyes,

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You sniffle against his chest, your warm tears seeping through the thin cotton of his shirt as you tell him about the drama that escalated quickly. False accusations, one of your friends claiming you talked about her behind her back. You apparently said that she was involved in the split up of your other friend because she had an affair with the husband and wanted him for herself. And now all your other friends bonded with that friend, not believing you when you say you never did any of that.

You are crying and clinging to Megumi, sobbing into his shirt,

"They don't want to be friends with me anymore. They kicked me out of the group chat and everything!"

Megumi's arms tighten around you. He knows he is selfish. He knows he is the worst. His heart breaks for you when he feels you shaking in his arms. But he only did what had to be done. He cannot let those bitches put their dangerous opinions in your head. He cannot let anyone come between you and him. He needs you.

He hates himself for causing you this pain. But he can ease it. He can show you that you don't need those women. You already have a husband who loves you and cares for you.

He is your strong shoulder to cry on, offering you his love, his reassurance, and his compassion as he caresses your back soothingly and whispers sweet words to you.

"I am so sorry, babe. You don't deserve that. Please promise me you won't talk to them again. They don't deserve to call themselves your friends after this. And you'll always have me, darling. I am always here for you."

Megumi hates to be that guy, but he can't stop himself from balling his hands into fists under the table when you tell him about work every evening over dinner. The way your eyes gleam, the way you laugh as you recount the funny conversations you had with your coworkers.

He feels guilty. He knows a good man would be happy for you. But Megumi isn't a good man. And so he sits there stiffly, his fingernails digging painfully into his palms as the jealousy spreads its poison through his blood.

It's not fair that your coworkers get to spend so much time with you. That they have so many inside jokes with you that Megumi simply cannot understand even when you tell him about them. It's not fair that they can make you feel so much. Do you have more fun with them than you have with Megumi?

Probably. He isn't a very fun person. He is too serious, too stern, too controlled. He gulps hard, remembering one incident a year ago when you told him playfully to loosen up a bit. You had smiled and ruffled his hair, but Megumi had felt as if you had stabbed his heart. He had once again felt inadequate. Not enough.

What if you get tired of him? What if you realize that one of your coworkers is a better match for you? That one of them makes you laugh more than Megumi can? That one of them brings more positive energy into your life than Megumi can do?

What if the process of you falling out of love with him and catching feelings for someone else has already started?

Cold fear grips Megumi's heart. He has to do something! You cannot go to work anymore!

But how can he convince you to stay home? It's not like he didn't already try. Megumi is rich. He is the heir of the Zenin family, already a CEO in his mid-twenties. He could easily provide you with everything you need! The moment you were married, he suggested that you could quit your job and become a housewife. He knew lots of women dreamed of this. 

But unfortunately, not you.

You had laughed and rubbed his arm, cooing at him how sweet he was. But no thanks, you wanted to go to work. You liked it there, and you wanted to have something for yourself too!

Megumi's alternate plan had been to ask you to work in his company. Wouldn't it be nice to be in his department? Wouldn't it be nice to be married to your boss?

But you turned his offer down with a smile and a sweet kiss.

"That sounds tempting, babe. But I would hate all the gossip and the accusations. You know how people are. No one would take me seriously. They would all think I have special privileges because I am your wife!"

"So what? Let them talk. Who cares what they think?"

"It would make me uncomfortable. Besides, I already have a job I enjoy and really nice coworkers. I know you only mean well, Megumi. But I don't think it would be good if I worked for your company."

So Megumi had to give up.

There is another option, though. An option that would solve all his problems and bind you even more to him: Having a baby together.

Megumi decides right then and there at the dinner table that he has to prioritize this option. His long fingers dance over his phone display, typing a quick message to Yuuji, his best friend and coincidentally a dad of two little twin boys.

He smiles when his friend replies almost instantly. Megumi puts his phone away and looks at you,

"The Itadoris will come over for coffee this Saturday."

Saturdays are always one of Megumi's favorite days. Saturdays mean you are at home, where you should be, with no work no coworkers. And this Saturday is even better because you are kneeling on the lush carpet in the living room, cooing at two pink-haired baby boys who kick their chubby legs and smile big, adorable smiles at you.

The thing with Megumi's best friend, Yuuji, is that this guy has so much charm and sunshine vibes that he can draw anyone in. And luckily, his babies are exactly the same. The perfect means to what Megumi hopes to achieve. If the Itadori babies can't convince you to become a mom, he doesn't know what else could!

And Yuuji unknowingly plays his part perfectly, too. He is sitting on the floor, laughing and playing with his twins, talking to you about how happy they make him and how amazing his life has been since he became a stay-at-home dad.

"I really enjoyed my work as a firefighter, but it is nothing compared to the joy I feel at home with the twins! This is the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You laugh and tell him he is doing such a good job, but then you add,

"Aren't you getting bored, though? I mean, as a firefighter, you had a high-energy job, with lots of physical activity and all the emergencies, the adrenalin and stuff. I guess being at home must be boring for you at times?"

Itadori shakes his head and smiles that big, toothy smile.

"Nah, I never get bored! Those two little whirlwinds keep me busy! And I can finally learn so many new recipes! I finally have time to cook and bake! And I work out at home or take long runs with the little ones in the stroller, so I am still just as active as before!"

That night, Megumi hugs you from behind and smiles against your neck as he gently strokes your stomach.

"Yuuji's twins are really cute, aren't they? You seemed to be very smitten with them."

For a moment, he thinks he has you. But then you chuckle softly and caress the back of his hand as you tell him,

"They are so cute. And Yuuji is so proud and so happy. It really makes you think, doesn't it? How would our babies look? What would life with them be like? But it's too soon. I want to work for a while longer, at least. I am so close to getting promoted. If I would take a baby leave now, I could forget that. But we still have lots of time, so it's no problem."

Megumi grits his teeth, counting silently to ten before he replies in a carefully neutral tone,

"Yes, you are right, darling. We have all the time in the world."

Megumi is a bad man, and he hates himself for it, but he can't help wishing all the worst things on your coworker. That guy with the short brown hair and the glasses. Why is it that he is chatting with you every fucking day after work? Megumi can see it all clearly from where he is waiting for you in the car.

What's that guy's problem? Why is he trying to hit on a married woman? Megumi isn't stupid. He can clearly see what those guy's intentions are! The casual touches! The big smiles and loud laughs. The overly nice farewell.

Megumi wants to get out of the car and punch that stupid smile off that idiot's face! But he has to keep cool. He has to act as if everything is fine.

Nothing is fine.

Megumi is seething with anger. His vision goes blurry as fear swallows him. It's just a short text message, but to him, it's the same as standing in the middle of the apocalypse.

"Hey babe, some of my coworkers are going out for drinks after work tonight. I agreed to join them, so please don't wait for me for dinner. I will eat something at the bar. I love you!"

His hands are shaking as he stares at the phone screen. Should he feign a sickness? He is sure you would rush home to him if he did that. But no, that will only make him look weak. You don't need a weak man. You need a strong guy who takes care of you.

There is no choice.

"Alright, darling. Have fun. Call me when you're finished so I can pick you up. I love you too."

He throws the phone onto the leather couch in his office with an angry growl. He already sees it all in his head. The chill atmosphere of the bar. The dim lights, the cocktails. The alcohol will make your mind cloudy. And your flirty coworker will use that to his advantage and steal what belongs to Megumi!

His whole day is ruined. Megumi storms out of his office, informing his assistant that there is a family emergency, snapping at her to get things managed for him when she tells him he has several important meetings today.

As if any of that is of importance! Stupid nonsense! All that matters is you!

You, who belong to Megumi! You, who is too kind and sweet and naive to realize what your coworker is trying to do!

Megumi drives home too fast, even though he doesn't even know what he can do at home. He strolls restlessly from one end of the living room to the next, breathing heavily as his mind is in a whirlwind of negative thoughts.

Evening comes, and Megumi grabs his car keys and his coat, jogs down to his car, and drives downtown. It's as if some invisible force pulls him here. As if he is some onlooker of a catastrophe that cannot look away. He needs to be there. He needs to see it with his own eyes.

He hides in the shadows outside the bar, something he has always been good at. When you are an abandoned, grumpy child who gets dismissed as a troublemaker, you learn to become friends with the shadows.

No one pays close attention to him. He isn't suspicious. He's just a tall, good-looking man in expensive dark clothes waiting for someone.

Megumi's chest feels heavy as he narrows his eyes and watches through the window. Your little group sits at a table in the middle of the bar. Happy faces, drinks get raised, laughter gets shared. Your eyes sparkle with joy. Megumi's heart clenches painfully. You are so beautiful. On the inside and outside. Everything he has ever wanted.

But you are in the cozy light of the bar, in the warm room, smiling and laughing and being loved by everyone. And Megumi is out here in the dark, in the cold of the night, all alone, someone who gets abandoned, who gets replaced. Someone who loneliness clings to like a curse.

Your coworker with the brown hair and the glasses sits next to you. Of course, he does! He leans closer to you, brushing his shoulder against yours, turning to talk to you, and you throw your head back and laugh, clearly enjoying what he said.

Megumi's hands ball into fists in the pockets of his coat. A decision is made. Megumi will not lose you. He will mold the world into one where you stay with him. He will control the circumstances, so you have no choice but to be by his side. He will erase everyone who wants to take you away from him. The first one to go will be your flirty coworker.

It's a thought that should be concerning. An idea that would terrify others. But not Megumi. He hasn't been scared of things like these for a long time. He was six when his father left. He was a little child and fended for himself for half a year before people found out he and his sister lived all alone. Megumi isn't scared of using his fists or his mind to take people down who try to hurt him. Violence doesn't scare him. The only thing that scares him is losing you.

It takes a week of planning and observing before everything is perfect.

Megumi picks you up from work and drives you home like every day. He kisses you tenderly as he lets you get out of the car in front of your apartment, telling you that he has to go back to the Zenin building because he still has to make some changes to an important business contract. He drives to his office and makes sure several people see him before he sneaks out and drives to another part of the city.

He parks his car in a sidestreet and walks the rest of the way. His heart is beating rapidly, but his mind is strangely clear. He is a man on a mission. A righteous mission. A husband who ensures his marriage will stay happy.

The black leather gloves feel soft on his hands as Megumi jogs through the dimly lit park. He spots his rival after ten minutes. Megumi follows him slowly, blue eyes observing their surroundings carefully. He feels excited. The thrill of the hunt is sending adrenaline through his veins.

Megumi feels grim satisfaction when he tackles the man to the ground behind a group of trees. He doesn't feel any remorse when he brings the knife down in several precise movements. He can't bring himself to see anything wrong with his actions. He hates bad people, and this guy clearly is a bad person if he is trying to steal someone else's wife. He deserves to die!

Megumi feels elation when he watches with cold blue eyes as the life seeps out of the man who wanted to steal you.

His heart feels light when he finally is back in his car after leaving the cold body of his rival lying in a bloody puddle. He whistles a soft tune on the drive home, feeling as if a great weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

He goes home to you, takes a quick shower, and then slips into bed behind your warm body, smiling when you snuggle against him, mumbling his name with so much love. He makes slow love to you, rolling on top of you, gentle, sleepy sex that makes you wrap your legs around him and mewl cutely as he moves on top of you, deep, slow thrusts accompanied by tender kisses.

You call Megumi at noon the next day when he is in the middle of a meeting. He excuses himself, taking your call to hear your shrill voice telling him that something terrible happened.

And Megumi smiles while he tells you,

"That's horrible, darling. I am coming to pick you up immediately. Please don't go anywhere without me."

He is a good husband, rushing to your workplace to pick up his distraught wife and take her home.

He wraps you in a warm blanket on the couch and brings you tea. He hugs you, pulls you into his strong arms, and tells you he is there for you, tells you that you are safe with him and that he will always protect you.

And you cling to him, crying, scared, and shaken up, burying your face in his chest, snuggling against his firm muscles.

"It's so... It's so crazy and scary. I mean... I have been sitting across from him in the office for several years! We got along so well! I would even say we were friends! And now he... he is... oh god, Megumi! He just went on a run in the park, and someone robbed him and stabbed him! It's like you aren't safe anywhere anymore!"

You hiccup, pressing your face against Megumi's firm chest, your fingers clutching his shirt tightly. He holds you and cuddles you while feeling elated that you need him so bad.

You call in sick for work for three days in a row, and Megumi thinks he has you. You are shaken up, scared by the fact that someone you know got murdered. A terrifying reminder that life outside isn't safe. You could get attacked anywhere at any time.

Megumi pets your hair and strokes your back, telling you to lock the door and snuggle under the blanket with the dogs.

"They will protect you while I'm at work, my love. You are safe here. Just don't leave the apartment. I will be back in a few hours and look after you."

He thinks he did it. He thinks you finally see that it's best to always stay in here. He thinks he can finally rest assured, knowing his sweet wife will only see him and no one else.

But the relief is short-lived.

You get out of bed on the fourth day, smiling bravely and telling Megumi that you feel better again.

"I can't hide away in here forever, Megumi. I have to get back to work."

He punches the wall when you close the bathroom door behind you, cursing under his breath. Why are you doing this to him? Why can't you just let Megumi take care of everything? Why must you be so adamant about standing on your own feet?

Fear is crashing over him again with thick black waves, pulling him under and drowning him in a sea of desperation.

Everything was fine for a few days! You were here, safe and sound, and letting Megumi dote on you! You were only his alone for a few days, and it had felt like the world was finally at peace, that Megumi was finally at peace! He cannot lose this feeling again!

Megumi is an intelligent man, and that is his curse! He isn't one of those naive fools like Itadori, who is, of course, a kind and amazing person, but he is too trusting, always smiling his stupid sunshine smile and not thinking much when his wife leaves the house to go to work all day and meet her friends and coworkers.

Megumi cannot be like that! He knows things! He knows firsthand how unreliable people are! People change their minds all the time. Even those closest to you might leave from one day to the next.

Love doesn't last. Even couples who have been together for decades suddenly cheat on each other and get divorced.

It all comes down to one thing: You cannot trust anyone. Even the most loyal soul might get weak when faced with too much temptation. And why would you stay with someone as flawed as Megumi if you ever get presented with the choice to be with someone who is perfect?

It's not that Megumi doubts your love for him in the here and now. He knows you love him. He frequently reads the texts you send your remaining friends where you swoon about him. He sees how your face lights up with affection when he does all those little acts of service for you. He sees you cry and sob and whine for him almost every night when he makes sure to fuck you so good that he spoils you for any other man.

Yes, you love him. But this is now. What will be in a year? In five? In ten?

Megumi simply cannot bring himself to be as naive as to believe in eternal love and loyalty. His father made sure to show him otherwise. People like Itadori are so clueless, so naive. But not Megumi. He is always prepared to get left behind again.

It's natural. Feelings fade with time, and then it all depends on other circumstances.

Love won't be enough.

He has to make sure you stay with him, not just because you love him because that love can vanish. He has to make sure you are dependent on him. You have to know you cannot just walk away. He needs to make sure you are financially dependent on him. And he has to make sure you don't have anyone else but him. If you have nowhere else to go, you must stay with him.

He slowly unclenches his fists, forcing himself to breathe calmly. He can do this. There must be a way! He already succeeded in isolating you from that friend group he didn't approve of. Now, if you only weren't so stubborn when it comes to work!

Megumi sighs and runs a hand through his unruly black hair. His gaze lands on a patch of color sticking out from under the carpet before the couch. He frowns and walks over, leaning down to inspect it. It's a red pacifier. Yuuji must have dropped it.

Megumi picks it up and holds it between two elegant fingers, turning it thoughtfully from one side to the next.

Maybe there is one more thing he can do.

It's a good thing he is so skilled with his fingers. It's difficult to manipulate the packaging of your birth control pills, but Megumi took the day off to execute his plan meticulously. He carefully pulls the aluminum foil off the blister packaging, flushes the contraceptives down the toilet, and then replaces them with some mild painkillers that look identical.

It takes some effort to fix the foil again, but Megumi has steady hands, and he is driven by desperation and a firm conviction.

By the end of the day, he holds the manipulated packaging proudly in his hands.

He feels a tiny wave of guilt when he puts it back into your nightstand. But it vanishes again when he reminds himself that he is doing this out of love. He just wants to make sure the two of you stay together. And he knows that even if you are shocked at first, you will learn to embrace the thought of becoming a mother.

You were so happy when you saw Yuuji's twins! You will be even more delighted when it's your and Megumi's baby that you hold in your arms! He is just giving you what you want anyway. A happy family. Megumi and you, your baby, and two dogs! The perfect family everybody wishes for! You will learn to love your new life!

Megumi waits. Of course, he keeps track of your monthly cycle. It's something he has always done. As a good caring husband, he always wanted to know at which times of the month the hormones would make you act a certain way, make you sad, or make you horny. But now it's like a countdown to Christmas or his birthday.

Megumi's eyes follow you all day, excitement tingling in his veins when he kisses you before you leave for work. You have started to ovulate. Tonight, he will breed you.

You both don't get a lot of sleep that night. Megumi pulls you onto his lap after dinner, kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth with deep, demanding kisses while his graceful hands slip under your skirt to rub your clit through your panties, driving you wild on his lap, making you mewl into his mouth and grind needily against him, so wet that you stain his pants.

He smiles when he steers you to the bedroom, his cock throbbing eagerly against his pants. Tonight, he will make you a mommy.

You look so beautiful beneath him, your face sweaty and damp from tears of bliss running down your cheeks, your eyes closed in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in loud moans and needy mewls.

Your legs rest on Megumi's shoulders, your body writhes under him, meeting every deep thrust of his needily. He can feel your cunt twitch around him, can feel how wet you are for him, how it stains the bed sheets under you. He can smell how fertile you are, that unmistakenly sweet, enticing smell your pussy has when you are ovulating. It drives him wild tonight. It makes him fuck you hard and deep, rubbing your clit firmly to make you cum on his cock over and over again, making your orgasming pussy milk him dry.

You are so good for him, such a sweet wife, such a good girl, taking all his seed so deeply into you. And Megumi makes sure to keep it in there. He lies on top of you, pressing you into the sheets, moaning softly, his heart overflowing with love when his lips find yours in a long, tender kiss while your pussy pulses around his spent cock.

He stays inside you until his cock softens and slips out of you, leaving a hot sticky trail of his seed and your cream on your inner thighs. Megumi watches you with heavy-lidded dark blue eyes as he pushes his cum back into you, fingering you thoroughly with his ring finger and middle finger, watching in fascination as your combined juices drip down his long fingers and onto the wedding ring he is wearing.

He smiles and coos at you, full of love and praise, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you, groaning when he feels your pussy tightening around his fingers.

"Yes, princess, you are such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Fuck, you're so beautiful!"

He smiles as he watches you come undone for him, letting him fuck all his warm seed back into you, stuffing you with it, making sure you keep it all inside.

For good measure, he takes you again an hour later, fucking you deep and thoroughly, rolling his hips against you, making his full balls slap loudly against you, giving you all his fertile seed, smiling when he imagines you holding a blue-eyed black-haired baby on your arm, waiting for Megumi when he comes home after work.

He comes so hard that he almost blacks out, and his loud feral moan is even drowning out your needy mewls.

Megumi watches you wolfishly. He knows your period should have started three days ago. But every time he checks your stack of tampons and pads, he can see that you haven't used any yet.

He feels a glorious satisfaction as he watches you grow more nervous every day. You constantly leave for the bathroom, probably to check whether your period has finally started, only to return with a feverish look in your eyes.

He waits patiently for several days more so as not to arouse any suspicion. Then he casually asks after kissing you goodbye when leaving for work,

"Oh babe, I'm going to grab some things at the drugstore today after work. Do you need anything? I think you are pretty close to that time of the month, aren't you? Do you need tampons or pads?"

He has to bite his lip not to smile when he sees the emotions flickering over your face. Worry, shame, nervousness. Your lips start to tremble, and finally, you spit it all out,

"I... Oh, Megumi! It should have started six days ago! I am so worried! Like I know it can't be. I... I can't be pregnant... I am on the pill! But... but it's so strange! I have never been late!"

He feigns understanding, smiling gently at you and pulling you against his chest, hugging you comfortingly to his tall, lean-muscled body.

"Aww, please don't worry, darling. It will be fine. Maybe you forgot to take a pill? It can happen so fast. Life is hectic."

He can see your eyes widen. It was a good thing to say. You can be pretty chaotic and forgetful. It's easy to cast doubt and make you believe it was your mistake. He can feel you stiffen in his arms. And when you lift your head to look at him, guilt is written all over your pretty face,

"Shit... that's a possibility, yeah. I can be such a distracted idiot! I am so stupid!"

"No, please don't blame yourself, babe. Really, it's ok. Look, we already agreed that we want to have kids someday, right? So, what if it happens a bit sooner than planned? I don't mind at all, darling. I love you, and I will always take care of you and our possible kids. Don't worry."

You blink rapidly as tears gather in your eyes, and Megumi cups your cheek and caresses it tenderly,

"Why don't you take the day off, babe? We can buy some pregnancy tests and see what's going on. And no matter what the tests say, everything will be fine, I promise you. You can always count on me, my love. We will get through everything together."

You nod wildly and smile gratefully at him as tears run down your cheeks, and you throw yourself into Megumi's arms again, letting him comfort you.

"O...ok, Megumi. Thank you, baby. I love you too."

You are so cute like this, nervous and scared, needing Megumi so much. He drives you back home with only one hand on the steering wheel. His other hand is clutched tightly between your cold fingers. A small happy smile tugs at the corners of Megumi's lips. He likes this. He likes being needed by you.

Finally, things will be in his favor. He knows it.

You are a nervous wreck the whole remaining day, pacing the living room restlesssly until Megumi gets in your way and makes you bump against his tall, lean-muscled body, and he pulls you in his arms, reassuring you, giving you all the comfort and love you need.

Megumi sets an alarm for six in the morning so you can take the pregnancy test. He is already awake, unable to sleep with how excited he is when the alarm starts blaring, and you jump out of bed at the first sound of it, shaking a bit as you look at him with big eyes,

"It's time... ok, I'll... I'll take the test now."

And Megumi is there for you, of course. He is the best husband you could wish for. Caring, loving, devoted, reliable. Megumi is someone you can count on. He smiles gently at you and takes your hand.

"You mean, we will take the test now. I am here for you, sweetheart. You aren't alone."

He leads you to the bathroom. He reads the instructions to you and hands you a plastic cup. He leans against the sink and smiles as you pee into the cup, refusing to leave your side even for one minute. A husband and wife can share every moment after all. There is no shame.

You smile sheepishly at him as you walk over to him, and Megumi takes the plastic cup out of your trembling hand.

"You're doing great, darling. Let me do the rest."

He prepares the test and pulls you into his strong arms, letting you hide your face in his firm, muscled chest, breathing in the comforting scent of the shirt he slept in while you wait for the test result.

Megumi strokes your back soothingly. His lips brush over your earlobe as he murmurs to you,

"No matter what the test says, I love you."

The sound of the alarm makes you jump. Megumi is the one who takes the test off the sink with steady fingers. He already knows what it will say.

"Pregnant."

His strong arms catch you when you sway lightly on your feet. His lips press gently against your hair, breathing a soft kiss to your forehead. You cannot see it, but the smile on Megumi's face is the happiest he has ever smiled.

You bury your face in his shirt, your voice sounds muffled, full of tears,

"I am so sorry Megumi! If only I had been more careful! I... oh god, what if I fail at being a mom? And now you will have so much more responsibility too, and it's my fault, and I..."

He silences your tearful ramblings by making you lift your head and capture your lips in a deep kiss, licking the salty taste of your tears out of your mouth. His heart feels like bursting, so exhilarated, so happy. It's lovely to see you so weak. So dependent on him. He loves to be needed.

He cups your cheek lovingly when he pulls away from the kiss. Dark blue eyes look deeply into yours, almost as if he is trying to hypnotize you and drill his words into your brain,

"You will be a wonderful mom, and I will gladly take on this new responsibility. I love you, and I love our child. I will always provide for you, darling. I will always be yours, and you will always be mine."

He finally has everything he ever wanted. A diamond ring is sparkling on your finger. Your belly will soon be swollen with his baby, showing everyone his claim on you. You will stay at home from now on, far away from anyone who could possibly steal you away from your husband.

And if you decide to return to work one day, Megumi will just knock you up again. He is obviously quite skilled at fucking a baby into you, and he will do it as often as the circumstances require it.

Yes, Megumi finally has everything he ever wanted.

You.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Forever.

Thank you so much for reading my second story for Halloween 2023!! I am sorry that it got so long, but it was so much fun to write Megumi's descent into madness ;)

I hope you enjoyed Yandere!Megumi!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

Once again, thank you so much to Loni for hosting this super fun Halloween Collab!! I could finally write this story after having it in my drafts for two years!!

[invested-in-your-future]

"but it's realistic that they would breakup"

Not the point.

"But they had a lot of trauma the re-"

Also not the point.

"But at least she's a-"

Absolutely not the point.

Y'all trying to justify a narrative choice from within the narrative constraints.

That's a mistake.

Just like how many people never understood why so many would pick Bae ending, so many people just don't seem to get what the pairing meant overall.

Y'all realise what this pairing meant to people when it came out?

Despite the issues with the ending, the adoration and love the pairing has to this day has been earned by the game - it's inseparable from the franchise and it's reception.

It wasn't just another pairing. It wasn't just something that existed as bait or something within fanon or something developers never committed to.

Through the years plenty of ships get baited disingenuously while throwing the audience nothing but breadcrumbs - for example the disaster of Sherlock fandom, the mess with Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Voltron and so on. Or the way Blake/Yang in RWBY were the most blatant baiting that got no on-screen development(despite all the setup that show ignored for years) till the moment the show literally was getting axed and they wanted to milk LGBTQ+ community for money one last chance, skipping all the development to characterization characters deserve and attempting to bribe LGBTQ+ community with breadcrumbs at the last possible second.

And some shows would stumble into something important but fail to realise it and thus end up squashing it - ask Buffy fans about Tara and Willow or The 100 fans about clexa.

There were LGBTQ+ pairings in video games too but rarely they would be so front and center and very often would be playersexual.

This wasn't what Life is Strange ended up being.

Life Is Strange, at the very core is about queer experience - about fitting in, about making connections in the world that rejects you, about finding beauty in the life that hates and hurts you - Max and Chloe's relationship is the key to the entire game.

For some that meant letting go but for others? It gave the chance to fight a trope no matter what and to get an ending, albeit flawed, where a WLW pairing they liked can be happy and face the future together.

People lived through those two characters and their experiences finding something genuine to relate to.

Max and Chloe were that generation's Korra/Asami, Willow/Tara, etc.

Even DONTNOD recognised that in the end and treated it with respect.

Double Exposure might not pull a BYG outright but it sure does everything to kill the happy memories a fandom made about the pairing - to go back through every single ray of sunshine one ending got and subvert it, taint it, reject it.

Picking the Bae choice when playing Double Exposure is the Narrative constantly telling you how wrong you were to expect happiness when you picked the ending where the pairing is intact and how acshually it isn't intact!

It doesn't kill the characters but it sure goes an extra mile to kill what those characters MEAN to the audience.

Realism, plausibility and so on come after - it's what a writer does when they decide on a path. A writer doesn't just do something because it makes sense and is out of their control - they decide to do it and then make it make sense. Whether they succeed or not depends on how good a writer is.

Double Exposure isn't the story about a breakup. It isn't the story about two women dealing with their trauma.

Double Exposure treats an iconic pairing people cared about as a backstory element - nothing more.

Deck Nine expects the audience to accept what happened and move on to shiny new cast and possible new LIs.

The writers of Double Exposure are telling you - "look, this doesn't matter. Now here's a new mystery you can solve and new cast and look Max is back and you liked using her powers right? Use powers to do stuff."

To this developer team the core element of what made the franchise so important to its audience is nothing more than a leftover plot thread to "write around".

Because to these writers queer experience apparently starts and stops with searching for a relationship - someone being in a relationship that's not part of the story or someone being comfortable NOT being in a relationship at all just don't exist.

What Deck Nine writers seem to be doing is treating it as disposable or interchangeable/replaceable, while also inadvertently tainting whatever comes after with fandom rage.

The worst thing that can happen to a new character is being "the next love interest" - because people channel their frustrations towards the character (or in some worst cases, please don't do this, the actor).

Where there was an iconic part of the franchise Double Exposure, intentionally or not, sets up a toxic battle ground.

That's the point - treating LGBTQ+ audience as sales numbers, manipulating us, treating something that has been a formative experience to so many lives as disposable, or worse yet - malleable.

(And yes there's also a wider issue with Deck Nine and the working conditions there, misogyny, the nazi imagery and the rest but I don't think this is that disconnected from that? How they treat their audience and subject matter is a reflection of culture inside.)

[odxrilove]

☆ SEVENTEEN AND SOFT LAUNCHING

pairing: svt x f!reader

contents/warnings: scenarios, fluff? social media mentions (duh)

dori's notes: trying a new layout! >.<

back to masterlist!

꩜ .ᐟ THEY HAVE STUDIED THE OFFICIAL "URBAN DICTIONARY" MEANING...

— minghao .. he started the soft-launching trend

hao is like the epitome of a romantic caring partner, so there’s no doubt that he’s the one to initiate the soft launching. truly, he was so sure about your love that he was already teasing a romance after the second date, posting an aesthetic picture of two wine glasses, one brandishing red traces of lipstick. you’re pleasantly surprised at the sweet action and even a bit impressed when his launching stays romantic, pleasing to the eyes and keeps people on the edge all during. it’s no surprise that when the grand reveal of his partner finally comes, all reactions are heartwarming.

— joshua .. couldn’t let his gentleman-mask slip away

joshua is an all-rounder when it comes to romance and dating, and loving you– so it’s no wonder when he decides to pay for all your meals, treat you like a princess and take as many pictures of you as you want. people should have seen it coming, his stories going from skies to restaurant pics to borderline risqué and suggestive pictures of the woman in his life. in the end, the soft-launching is a success, just like your relationship with him.

— mingyu .. you think he would ever miss an opportunity to appear rich, cool and taken?

ever since he’s known about the existence of boyfriend pictures, he’s never let anyone else take his well-deserved golden trophy. but in reality, the boyfriend pictures used to give him a bitter aftertaste, since he wasn’t anyone’s boyfriend ! so now that he has you and he is a boyfriend, you can’t possibly think mingyu doesn’t take every opportunity possible to show off your growing love ? get ready to be all over his social media and his followers’ for you pages.

— seokmin .. he bought a white board on wheels to create the perfect soft-launch timeline

he’s a sweetheart through and through, and seokmin isn’t afraid to show he’s taken, even if it’s still early. he prepares everything thoroughly, wanting you to be happiest ever. he even created a timeline, which he followed very precisely, just so that nothing would go wrong ! people’s reactions to the soft-launching makes him all the more proud.

꩜ .ᐟ IS IT REALLY SOFT LAUNCHING WHEN HALF THE WORLD'S POPULATION KNOWS ALREADY...

— jun .. good opportunities, good initiative, just not enough talent

as much as jun wants to follow in minghao’s footsteps, following his advice might not be helpful enough. see, he puts effort into it, that’s for sure, but it seems like the social media world is just against him– as well as his friends. what do you mean his soft launching isn’t working, seungkwan? give the poor guy some slack, he’s trying.. that earns him a few points, at least. it’s alright if it turns out tacky or predictable, maybe you can teach him!

— seungcheol .. too giddy about you to be secretive

despite his intimidating appearance, this man is a total teddy bear, so him not being discreet enough about having someone in his life isn’t surprising. look, seungcheol tried his best, but it’s truly not his fault if a few of his friends already know about you or if the pictures he ends up posting aren’t secretive at all! in general, he doesn’t want to hide your relationship, too proud about you, so he’s not really into the "mysterious" aspects of the pictures, prefering to show you off the moment you become official.

— seungkwan .. you did it first, but he wasn’t happy with the outcome, so did it too

if nitpicking was a job, seungkwan would be the highest paid worker in the world– because tell me why this man brushes off your attempt at soft launching to then announce he’s going to do the same? when asked, he’ll say he can do better than you, but in reality, he has pictures of the two of you that he wants to show off. and apparently, so early on in the relationship, seungkwan is still a bit too shy to admit that fact, so instead he lies, overlooking the fact that everyone knows already, thanks to your own soft launching.

꩜ .ᐟ SOFT LAUNCHING? MORE LIKE HARD LAUNCHING...

— hoshi .. he’s just bad at it

listen, he’s cute and all but his cuteness can’t hide the fact he’s clueless about technology and is probably not the best person to do the soft launching. i mean, his attempt was definitely cute, but that was it, an attempt– you can’t really call a selfie of the both of you kissing an ideal soft launching pic, can you ? now, most of the time, he just reposts anything you tag him in, and you’re both happy.

— chan .. tries really hard but ends up accidentally messing it up

it’s pretty sad if you think about it actually, because he had it all planned out, all the pictures, the captions, even the songs that he would add! but then the worst happens.. an unedited soft-launching draft of you two is posted on his account, and he doesn’t realize until after everyone has already seen it. the comments pour in, and chan has to clench his teeth– no, user joshuahong95, chan didn’t mean to use "your" instead of "you’re" in his unfinished caption.

꩜ .ᐟ GUILTY! THEY LET YOU DO THE JOB..

— jeonghan .. is petty and insists you do it since he asked you out

truly, you should have seen it coming, knowing how much of a menace your boyfriend is. getting trapped into doing all the soft launching yourself was a dumb move on your part but a smart one on his. don’t take it too seriously though, it’s not that he doesn’t want to put in the effort, on the contrary, but he does really enjoy seeing you post and boast about him, all the while keeping it mysterious. in short, he indulges and basks in the attention as much as he can.

— wonwoo .. isn’t enough on social media to do it

even if wonwoo wanted to do it, he wouldn’t possibly be able to, since he isn’t active much on social media. If you had asked him to reveal your relationship to his close entourage, he probably would have just sent a captionless picture of you two in the groupchat, so you taking over the soft launching was better for everyone. when he does decide to help a bit, he’s lost in the timeline, posting dinner pics when you’re at the faceless ootd pics stage.

— vernon .. “soft launching is weird.. why do people even do it?” it’s cute vernon.

vernon’s stance on soft-launching is a problem in itself– he thinks it’s an unnecessary addition to society that it forces people to disclose private information under the pretext of a trend. you just think it’s cute. vernon thinks you’re cute so even if he finds it dumb, he lets you soft launch your relationship, because when you’re happy, you smile. and your smile makes you even cuter so he doesn’t mind sacrificing an opinion for the greater good, which, in his opinion, is you.

— woozi .. you don’t even mention it to him

woozi is without a doubt one of the more private members– he isn’t too keen on revealing too much about himself so plastering you all over his social media isn’t him. He knows you’re more active online and he doesn’t mind one bit but he wasn’t even aware you were soft launching him! he only finds out when hoshi teases him about it and he becomes confused; “what’s soft launching ?”. don’t worry, you have all the time in the world to explain what it means to him.

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @odetoyeonjun @sensitively-taken @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @raevyng @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun @viscade @kikohao @enluv @smilehui @starshuas @instabull @atrirose @dokyeomkyeom @todorokiskitten

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[atelierlili]

I always wondered why Katniss factored marriage and children into the equation when it came to reciprocating Peeta’s feelings for her. It’s a rather large leap, especially when Peeta himself never expresses wanting children at any point in the story. He uses children as a tool to persuade Katniss and the Capital to save her life, but the only time we see him express any desire/feelings of having one of his own is when he’s crying after the baby bomb. But we never hear his real thoughts.

But you wanna know who does express wanting children? Gale.

It’s one of the first thing he mentions in chapter one. And it pisses her off so much.

(I also want to add that Gale reframes/establishes the dynamic of Katniss and him caring for their siblings from something that is sibling-sibling to parent-sibling. And he is not wrong. Katniss doesn’t refute him. Both Katniss and Gale are surrogate parents to their siblings. Which is also why Katniss love and affection of Prim, is not just sisterly. I’ve seen people say Katniss is only sisterly to Prim- but she’s not. She’s parentified their relationship to the point she subconsciously see Prim as her child, which makes this a tragedy because she’ll loose her first child no matter what she does by the end of the story.)

But Gale’s phrasing here elevates himself as a potential suitor to Katniss by placing them both as the parental roles to these children. (Which irritates her a lot ). Which is why she brings the topic up with her relationship with Peeta. Because she’s subconsciously aware of Gale’s efforts and knows it will be a point of contention between them. It hangs over her head in a way.

With Gale, children are extra mouths to feed. (But Gale will do fine. He can work. He can hunt.) It’s all framed with calculated survival in mind. But it’s also not something she had planned in the future at any point.

But Peeta’s children? Oh they deserve to be born because Peeta deserves to be a father. He would be such a good father. They deserve to exist in a world where they can be safe and happy. (Even if it’s not with her.)

This is also why I think she subconsciously sees Peeta’s baby as her own. And I don’t think of it as a cruel/heartless thing, it’s just you’d be more protective of your own child compared to someone else’s. Katniss sees Gale as a reliable person who’s equipped to look after a kid. She doesn’t express the same kind of maternal instinct/yearning for the Baby Hawthrone’s safety as she does with the idea of Baby Mellark, because she doesn’t think of Gale’s child as her own. She never hopes for a better future for them, but she does with Peeta because he and that baby gives her hope. And she loves him that much.

[kichiyosh1]

An eternity with you: I'll choose you time and time again

Wanderer x fem!reader

You always seem to find your way back to him. What a troublesome being you are. Fortunately for you, he wouldn't be able to stop you either way. You're the one he chose, after all.

Crazy plot twist that will leave you baffled🫨(but i think i made way to obvious lol)

"What's that?"

You always noticed the charm wanderer had next to his Anemo Vision. It was in the shape of a Sumeru rose, a vibrant chrysalis purple that, when caught in the light, would shine like the glowing bioluminescent beaches of Tatarasuna.

"Someone... gave it to me." For a moment, you could see the nostalgic expression on his face as he caressed the precious gem. It's an emotion so rare for him to display that you're unsure if you should be amazed by this new expression or perhaps a bit uneasy. It's rare for anything to capture the wanderer's attention, and if you were to assume how much that charm meant to him then

"This someone must be special," you subconsciously averted your gaze, but the wanderer was quick to pick up on it. He adorned a sly smirk on his face before it quickly turned to one of amusement. He let out a small chuckle before his eyes began to soften.

You sure like to poke around in my past, don't you?" He sighed, unsure where to start from there, but he's determined to convey his feelings.

"This person showed me the true meaning of eternity, something my creator was always so obsessed with. She was able to give it meaning to me with just her simple existence. It'd be an understatement if I wasn't just a little bit fond of this person."

You regretted asking. The look of bliss and admiration on his face made you feel like the most insignificant thing in the world right now, next to his special someone.

"Where is this person? Is she still around? Are you searching for her?"

"I'm... not exactly actively seeking her out right now."

"Do you keep the charm to remember her?" at that he simply looked to the side, a sheepish expression on his face before he went back to neutral.

"I've never forgotten her. She was the one who forgot me. We've crossed paths but she has no memory of me. She can't even recall the time she gifted me this charm."

He said it with such a casual tone that it left you feeling appalled.

How could she?!

You no longer regretted asking, only feeling indignation for what he's suffered through.

"Wanderer..." you put both hands on his shoulders, startling him in the process. You were too caught up in the moment to even notice the creeping tint of red on his face.

"What are you—"

"Please forget about her!"

"Wait I—"

"You deserve better! Deep down inside, actually maybe we need to dig down reaaaally deep but I know it's there! Someone like you deserves to find your own happiness! So please!"

Tears were gathering at the rim of your eyes, and you couldn't tell if they were from wanderer's sad, tragic love story or from the fear that if you didn't succeed in persuading him to move on, there wouldn't be any place for you in his heart.

The wanderer was baffled; he didn't expect this much of a reaction from you. It made his chest clench with that same feeling she always gave him—the same feeling you always gave him.

He composed himself, awkwardly patting you on the back in a way to comfort you. "It's not that big of a deal you know. It's not like the story ended there." you just kept on adding pages

"Well, guess what." You didn't give him time to think before you started tugging him by his arm.

"We're going somewhere to get your mind off her. Oh, and we'll need to get rid of that charm. That way, you won't think of her anymore."

Unbeknownst to you, you were the one that gave it to him.

"I don't think that's necessary," he says, but he's smiling. Your worried and determined attitude made it clear that you cared about him, and he couldn't be any more grateful.

"Nonsense, I'll buy you a gazillion way better charms, so you can forget about this one." You glared and pointed at the item like it was the bane of your existence.

"If you're that insistent, then I want it handmade." His hands, though he's done this many times before in the past, trembled slightly when he properly grasped your hand in his.

"Alright." You grinned and he looked fondly at you in return

It was amusing how you got so worked up about, well, yourself. But at the end of the day, it's still you, isn't it? It will always be you, you, you.

"I'm more than content that you're still by my side."

Before he erased himself from Irminsul, he never would have thought he deserved a happy ending with you. Fate had a funny way of leading people on, and he was led like a moth to a flame. Maybe an eternity with you wouldn't be so bad. No, he didn't mind, as long as it was you he'd be spending it with.

His precious sumeru rose.

─⁠──⁠──⁠──⁠─

"Heh, you always have a peculiar way of coming into my life."

"Is this about how I sneaked into the academia?"

"Mhm, don't worry. I'll make sure to leave the door wide open for you next time."

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories: Love Me More

Yandere Supervillian x Afab Reader x Ex Superhero

In honor of spooky month, you’re all getting some of my old original thriller works. Enjoy

8.4 k words

Buy Me a Coffee, Please?

    Crescent shaped wounds formed on the palms of soft (skin color) hands while (eye color) eyes stared holes into the tv and the daily broadcast. Blood dripping from the young woman’s lips from the force of her biting them. 

     “Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!” A reporter stated while showing videos of the blonde haired hero kissing a pink haired woman. The two did look good together but there was only one problem. Hydro, no… Reign, was (your name)’s boyfriend. 

     Reign had always told her not to use the tv remote but she was just so bored in the house. Ever since powers had started appearing seven years ago from a mysterious storm, Reign had been keeping her locked up in their shared house. The blonde had insisted it was for her utmost safety, but now (your name) felt like it was all just a rouse to keep her in the dark on his affair.

    A scream left (your name)’s throat as she began pressing all the tv buttons in frustration before throwing the tv remote away from the couch. A small thud echoing in the room while the tv screen turned black.

    The young woman began to shake as she tried to conceal her sobs while she patiently waited for her boyfriend to come home. Her form shaking as she gazed numbly at the blood dripping from her hands.

    She had waited an entire week for him to return from his latest mission. She had been worried sick about him since he hadn’t answered her calls or texts asking how he is or what he was doing. And now (your name) knew why. The true reason in why Reign never replied… was because he had another woman in his life.

    Seven years down the drain. She has always wondered why he hadn’t taken her on dates in the last two years since he had risen to stardom. Why he wasn’t as affectionate before or as talkative. Why he never held her or told her he loved her as much anymore.

   Perhaps some part of herself had deluded her into believing it was just a phase. Never in her life would she have thought she would be the phase. This was no Superman and Louis Lane love story. This was real life.

    Reign would never want to be associated with a girl who had a low grade power like hers. What good was a healing power if she couldn’t even heal a partner who was never injured anymore?

    (Your name) and him would never get married or have the happy ending she had always hoped to have since her rough childhood. It would only be Reign and Terra’s. The perfect super couple that took the nation by storm. 

    (Your name) sighed, a few tears falling down her face. She had thought his sudden avoidance of her was due to the high stress of his work. So she had given him space to organize his thoughts and feelings. The young woman had tried so hard to comfort him with his favorite foods, writing him notes everyday, and making sure their home was always clean. And for what? For him to cheat on her and lie about it? Did he even deserve a good bye?

    (Your name) thought for a moment before releasing a sad sigh. Reign truly didn’t deserve anymore than she could possibly offer him. He didn’t deserve a good bye. Especially not when he was the one who left first.

    (Your name) knew what she needed to do. It was time to let go before she became even more of a mess. But first, she should clean up her hands and lips. 

    The young woman walked to the bathroom and began rinsing her hands, the hot water stinging the self inflicted wounds lightly. Dull (eye color) orbs staring at her reflection as she released a sigh. She practically looked like a corpse with the bags under her eyes. When was the last time she smiled anyways? Has it truly been a year since she truly felt anything?

    A light green glow left her hands as she healed her broken skin. It was the least she could do so no one thought she was insane when she walked out of this house with a duffle bag.

   (Your name) shut off the water before heading into her separate room to pack her things. The couple hadn’t slept together in months and it really took a toll on her. It was pathetic just how far she had let herself wallow in self loathing and pity. 

    (Eye color) eyes frowned at the photo of a blonde male smiling as he held her younger self. A (skin color) hand reaching out and placing the picture face down. Her hands quickly facing all the photos of them face down so she didn’t have to see his face while she packed. She didn’t want to be reminded of the love they once shared.

    Such a shame the fame had gotten to him. Reign was her first love, her first for so many things. But it was time to put him away, just like he did to her. 

    (Your name) smiled sadly before packing up what few belongings she had, making sure to leave whatever Reign had gotten her behind. She didn’t want any reminders of him and his broken promises any longer.

   “Good bye, Reign.” (Your name) whispered as she left the empty house. “I wish you happiness.”

.

.

.

     Bars were never really her scene and yet here she was lightly sipping on some Scotch. The bitter alcohol stinging her throat while her eyes scanned the crowd.

    The scent of sweat and liquor causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. Just what I’m earth was she thinking coming to a place like this?

    This was the nearest bar to the cheap hotel she was staying at for the time being before she found a job to make enough money to move to another city.

    A sigh escaping her throat. Her mind was still in shambles and a complete mess. Even this small glass of liquor couldn’t satisfy the lonely ache in her chest.

    The young woman raised her hand up to attract the bar tender. “I’d like to close my tab please.”

.

.

.

   The walk to the hotel wasn’t too bad. Just pass by a few alleyways and she’d be right there in her tiny room. Hopefully there weren’t any roaches in her bed…

   A sudden groan reached her ears, causing the young woman to freeze in place. (Your name) turning her head left towards the alleyway in fright. The young woman trembling as her mind began to race.

   She was going to be stabbed wasn’t she? Young women always got abducted or stabbed… or raped at night. And what could she do to defend herself?! She didn’t even have a taser-

    “Please…” a deep voice barely whispered while another groan left the alleyway. “Please help me…”

    The young woman began to pace as she tried to sort her thoughts. Her mind was telling her no but her heart clenched at the thought of someone truly needing help.

  “Screw it.” (Your name) slowly made her was into the alleyway, her (eye color) eyes nervously scanning the alleyways.

     “Hello?” (Eye color) orbs widened as she stared at the male before her in shock. Deep gashed covering his body while ragged breaths left the male’s throat. The young woman quickly rushing over as she began trying to talk to the young man. “Oh lord, you need a hospital-“

   The male reached a hand out, blood now staining the white sleeves of her coat. Red eyes meeting (eye color) orbs for the first time.

   “N-no hospital…” the male rasped while his eyes gazed at here in desperation. “P-please… put me out of my misery-“

   “I-I can heal you!” The young woman quickly leaned forward while a green glow surrounded her hands while she tried to heal as many of his wounds as she could. “Please don’t die-“

   “It’s okay… I don’t have anything to live for.” There was so much blood. Whatever or whoever had wounded him, had truly wanted him dead. 

    Tears began to gather in her eyes while she tried to desperately heal the large gashes on the man before her. Just why did her powers have to be so weak? 

   “Please, whatever may be out there… I just want to save this one person. Please…” tears fell down her face as the male began to slump over ever so slightly. “I just want to save someone so I can have purpose again.”

   The male’s eyes widened as the green glow began to become brighter while his wounds quickly began closing. A warmth filling his body and soul while she worked her magic. The young woman beginning to slump as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

   “Hey-“ the male quickly caught her before she fell on the pavement. His heart drumming in his chest as he realized she had passed out.

    Healing abilities were so incredibly rare this day and age. They were usually killed off so they wouldn’t interfere with the hospitals since they could heal for free… so just how on earth did she come to find him? Wait a moment…

    The dark haired male smiled softly as he studied her pretty face, his face lighting up in recognition. It was (your name)… She was still so pretty and small… would she be willing to be his new purpose now that she was all alone?

    Did she still remember him from high school? She had always been such a sweet girl, such a shame she chose Reign Huston over him. He could’ve give her the world… but now he could! He truly could give her the world… or at least what would be left of it when he was done with it.

    It must be fate that had brought them together! The string of fate must be tied tightly to their fingers, uniting them in a time of hardship once again.

   The male slowly rose up. The dark haired man carry her out of the alleyway with a smile on his face. 

    “You’ll be my reason to live again and I’ll be yours.” The male waved his right hand, a Violet portal appearing before the two. “My true reason on why I want to burn this world to the ground. Nothing will ever hurt you or I ever again.”

    The poor girl has no idea that the man she just saved was a monster… a monster she had once unknowingly escaped from in the past…

.

.

.

    Reign finally arrived home after not receiving any texts or calls from (your name). Which was strange for her since she always clung to him whenever he left for long periods of time.

    Maybe she realized what he had to do in order to crawl up the ranks of superheroes. Reign couldn’t afford for the public to know of their relationship. It was dangerous to be with someone who couldn’t protect themselves.

   It would be nerve racking to be seen with a girl who had no name or strong ability to protect herself since he was such a well known hero now. Reign was just lucky Terra was in the same boat as him. With the pink haired woman by his side on the media, he’d be able to have the perfect looking life. A life where (your name) would never be endangered or discovered.

    Reign had felt terrible distancing himself from her but he had felt so guilty for pretending to be with someone else. It was what his agency wanted for more media coverage. Yet he knew this was all for the best if he wanted enough money to move the two of them far from anyone and everything.

     “I’m home-“ silence greeted Reign when he walked into the empty house. His brow furrowing in confusion at the eerie silence. “Hello?”

    The blonde male began to walk around the house, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. Where was she? (Your name) always greeted him when he came home.

   “(Your name)?” Reign reached her bedroom door, the male reaching a hand up to knock on the smooth, white wood. “I’m home-“

    The door creaked open before he could even knock, the male’s blue eyes widening at the sight of a bare room with all of the pictures placed down. The room looked as if it was ransacked in a hurry.

    “(Your name)?!” Reign quickly entered the room as his blue eyes began to scan for any sign of his girlfriend. “(Your name)?!”

    Reign then began to run room to room as he called out for her.

    “(Your name)?! Please answer me!” Reign began to dash to the living room as tears began to gather in his eyes. She couldn’t have left right? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was out there?

   The male took a step near the tv, his foot landing on top of the remote, causing the tv screen to light up. A loop of the broadcast from the other day beginning to talk.

    ‘Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!’

    Reign’s eyes widened in shock as he felt his chest tighten. He had forgotten to hide the remote… she wasn’t supposed to know.

   Reign choked back a sob as he realized what he had done. Oh god… she left him.

    Reign began to freak out. (Your name) had a healing power and that was considered illegal since the hospitals didn’t want any competition. What if she was killed or kidnapped for her powers?

    Reign took a deep breath before trying to calm himself. He was going to have to find her and explain everything.

    Maybe he’d have to use some of his old skills back when he first had gotten (your name) into his arms… it shouldn’t be hard to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. One of them had to have had caught something of her. He was sure of it.

    “Don’t worry, (your name). I’ll find you.”

.

.

.

    Light trickled down from a window. It’s bright rays shining on (your name)’s face, the young woman groaning as she began to stir awake. Her brows furrowing at the unfamiliar room she resided in. Where in earth was she?

   (Eye color) orbs examined the modern gothic room. The young woman turning her head around to see that the king sized bed was in the center of the room behind the giant windows of a balcony. Green foliage of exotic plants hanging from the ceilings, the giants leaves covering some of the light from the full moon. Long black and red candles sat on shelves on the black walls, illuminating the room in a comforting manner.

    “Are you awake?” A deep voice asked, the young woman turning to gaze at the door frame. A tall male with long black hair stood in the doorframe. His red eyes staring at her in adoration. “You’ve been out like a light for almost two days now.”

    The male stalked forward slowly like a predator. His red eyes never leaving (your name)’s. A small smile slowly crawling on his plump lips while his eyes became half lidded. The male bending down to sit beside her in the bed.

    “You saved my life.” The male then gently grasped her hand in his much larger one, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My name is Dante Hawkthorne. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

    (Your name) blinked a few times in disbelief. The man she had saved was one of the most influential businessmen of the century. Just what on earth was he doing in an alleyway? Could he have been jumped? Or maybe he was doing something sleazy?

    (Your name) shook her head to clear her thoughts. It’s not like it was her place to judge him since she was also on the sleazier part of town.

    “My name is (your full name).” The young woman gave him a soft smile, causing Dante’s cheeks to blush.

    “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” the young man then slowly pulled away from her as he stood up to his full height. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

    (Your name) raised a brow at the arm he offered for her to grab. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his offer would it?

    “That sounds lovely, Dante.” The male’s breath hitched for a moment before he quickly composed himself.

    “How does (favorite meal) sound?” The two began making their way towards the dining hall. Each one exchanging small talk.

    Turns out Dante was only three years her senior and he owned a lot of morgues and graveyards in the city. She would’ve never thought he’d be the type involved with the dead so it was pretty interesting to see and hear about.

     Yet she couldn’t help but have a deep gut feeling that there was something off about him.

   Perhaps it was the way his eyes lingered on her a little too much for comfort or the way he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His large hands constantly rubbing against hers as they made their way towards the dining hall in the long hallways.

    “Are you alright, Dante?” The male simply gave her a soft smile as he stared at her lips intently.

    “Yes. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me back there. Perhaps it has made me enamored with you.”

    “Pardon?”

   “How do I put this?” Dante tapped a pale finger to his light pink lips before giving her a flirtatious smirk. “You enthrall me.”

    (Your name) blinked a few times at the oddly flirtatious male before giving him a nervous smile. She had never been the type of girl who had gotten the attention of men like this before. What on earth was she supposed to do?

    “Um… I’m flattered?” A deep chuckle broke her from her nervous thoughts.

   “You’re quite cute, miss (your name).” The young woman could only chuckle nervously while she turned her head towards the ground. Hopefully he would let her leave soon after this meal. She really needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.

    “Um… thank you.” The young woman perked up at the sight of the long table in the center of the grand, gothic dining hall. “Oh wow. Your home is so lovely.”

    (Eye color) orbs gazed intently at the various portraits on the walls. A shiver rolling down her spine when her eyes met one of a young woman that looked eerily similar to herself. And did that painting just blink?

     (Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes at the sudden creak the chair made while Dante pulled it out of place. The brunette giving her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he only had benevolent intentions towards her.

    “Thank you, Dante.” (Your name) gently took a seat. Dante quickly sliding her into her spot before taking a seat beside her. 

     A group of masked butlers quickly scurried into the room with various bottles of expensive looking liquor in their black gloved hands. Which seemed odd to the young woman that she couldn’t see their face or hands.

     “Would you care for some wine? I have all kinds of flavors and colors. Whatever you may like.” Dante smiled, gesturing his hand to all of the bottles the butlers held. 

    “Oh… I would like some (favorite wine).” 

     “Excellent choice, my dear.” Dante then snapped his fingers, one of the butlers gracefully walking forward. The red number one reflecting off the black wooden mask on his face. His feet moving in an uncomfortably stiff way that was almost unnatural. It was if the butler was a doll.

    With perfect poise, the butler’s posture never grew slack as he poured the (wine color) wine into the glass in front of her. The butler than quickly snapped to attention once the wine was poured, giving the two a low bow.

    “Thank you, Henry.” The butler then made his way back to the other line of butlers while another stepped forward to pour a deep red wine into Dante’s cup, the dark haired male giving her a smile. The red number seven was on this butlers head, but that wasn’t what made the hair stand up on the back of (your name)’s neck. It was the fact that she couldn’t see the butler’s eyes, almost as if he didn’t have any.

   “(Your name). Are you ready for the meal?” Dante asked the young woman, snapping her from her musings. The young woman giving Dante a nervous smile. 

   “That sounds lovely.” Dante snapped his fingers. The butlers stepping back to make room for the black masked cooks to make their way towards the couple. The numbers one, two, and three on their masks this time. Yet unlike the butlers, the numbers on their foreheads were a dull yellow rather than a deep red.

    The tallest one, three, pushed a golden cart that had two golden covers atop of the golden plates. The shortest one, number one, then perfectly placed the meals in front of the two. Just as stiffly as the butler who had poured their wine into their drinks.

    “Thank you.” (Your name) told the butler, who didn’t respond, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.

    “She told you thank you, Ayden.” Dante hissed, the cook hurriedly giving the young woman a bow. A smile now in place on Dante’s lips. “Thank you, Ayden.”

   The cook with the number two then stepped forward to hand (your name) and Dante a glass of water. The three cooks giving them a curt bow before pushing their golden cart away and back to the kitchen.

    (Your name) pulled the lid off, her eye brows furrowing at what lord under the cover… this was (favorite food)… how did Dante know her favorite meal?

    “What’s the matter, (your name)? Is the food not to your liking?” Dante asked with furrows brows, the male clenching his fists tightly. “I can ask the cooks to remake it. Is it not (hot/ cold) enough?”

    “Oh it’s not that, Dante.” (Your name) gave the dark haired male a reassuring smile, causing him to unclench his fist. “This is my favorite food… it was just interesting on how this is what they served me is all.”

    “Oh!” Dante removed the lid on his food to reveal the same meal. “It’s my favorite food as well!”

   (Your name) sighed in relief as she took a bite from the meal. This was probably the best she’s ever had of it. “This is delicious, Dante.”

    “I only have the best in my home.” Dante smiled, the male then grabbing his glass as he raised it. “A toast to you, my savior.”

    (Your name) nervously raised the glass before clinking it with Dante’s. The two taking a swig. The taste was a little off, which may be due to how expensive it looked. But other than that, the wine was excellent.

     “Is the wine also to you liking?”

    “It’s very good.” Dante smiled as he intently watched (your name) eat her food. 

    A sudden wave of tiredness swept over the young woman, which was odd.

    “Are you alright, (your name)?” Dante asked, his brows furrowing in worry as he rose from his seat.

    “Oh I am just a little tired is all.” (Your name) gave Dante a reassuring smile. “It feels terribly rude to be so tired when I’m sharing a meal with you.”

    “Nonsense. You can spend the night here.” Dante smiled, causing (your name) to grow goosebumps at the strange look in his eyes. (Your name) raised her hands up while she tried to think of an excuse to leave. Something felt off.

    “Oh but I don’t want to be a burden-“ Dante’s hands clasped her.

   “Oh what nonsense. You saved my life!” Dante flashed (your name) a charming smile, the young man then rose up from his seat. Dante held out a large, pale hand to her. “I can escort you to your room if you are not comfortable walking alone. Tomorrow I can also arrange a maid or two to prepare a bath for you until you feel better.”

    (Your name) hesitantly took Dante’s hand, the young man helping her up from her chair. His red eyes never leaving her form. 

    Dante snapped his fingers, nodding his head at cook one and two to gather up the plates.

   “Perhaps tomorrow, in the morning we could have a nice breakfast in the garden?” Dante smiled, which caused (your name) to nervously giggle. “It’d be like a date-“

    “Oh I just got out of a relationship so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going so fast yet-“ (your name) shivered at the twisted smile that flashed on Dante’s lips for the briefest of moments. 

    “I’m a patient man, (your name). I can wait.” Dante led her towards her room, his eyes carefully observing her to make sure she didn’t pass out too early. Soon she would be completely in his grasp and assimilated in her new role.

.

.

.

    Pale fingers traced circles on (your name)’s smooth skin, the fingers slowly working their way up to her (hair type) locks.

    “You’re still so beautiful even after all these years.” Dante smiled dreamily before grasping small section of her hair and brining it to his lips. Dante pressed his soft lips to the hair before taking in a deep inhale of her scent. The male moaning in ecstasy.

     How many years has it been since he’s last touched her? Seven? Eight?

     The male shivered to himself when (your name) released a soft breath while she slept. Her lips looked so soft… it would be okay if he snuck just a small kiss on her, right?

    Dante gulped while his palms began to sweat profusely in anticipation. His teenage self had always dreamed of touching her. Of being with her… of being inside of her. 

     Dante wanted to be inside her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to be the thought, no, the being that never left her mind. The one she would call out for at night as he pleasured her night after night, day after day. He wanted her to be all of his just like he was always all of hers.

    Dante slowly swung his body on top of hers. His form straddling hers while his body looked over hers. His red eyes almost glowing in the dark like a predator of the night.

    Dante interlaced his fingers with her hands as he held her hands above her head. His long black locks hanging over his face, the locks tickling her skin.

    “I have always loved you… it’s meant to be, (your name)…” Dante then leaned forward, his warm breath fanning her face. His eyes becoming heavy lidded with lust. “You were always so sweet to me… it was so hard to live without you for all these years…”

    “But it’s worth all the pain and suffering I had to go through now that we’ve crossed paths again…” Dante released a soft chuckle before leaning his face just an inch from hers. “I wonder if you’ll ever know who I am unless I show you a picture from the past… I wouldn’t mind either way because the face you have now is custom made just for you.”

    Dante’s lips then gently pressed against hers. His breathing becoming erratic when he immediately pulled away. His eyes now completely consumed with lust, his hips slowly grinding into hers. A low moan escaping his lips, the male biting them to prevent anymore sounds from leaving him.

    “The doctor said the drugs were pretty strong so I could kiss and touch you more… I could kiss and touch you all over.” Dante then pressed his lips to her lips again and again. The young man moving his lips all over her face and shoulder in a sort of worshipping manner. “You’re mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

    “So won’t you love me more than him now?”

    Dante glanced at the clock before sighing at the time. It was almost midnight now. He should probably let her get some rest.

    Red eyes took a longing look at her pretty hairs, his eyes flashing with desire yet again. 

    “I’ll just take a small amount of hair… you won’t even notice.” Dante pulled a knife from his pocket with a smile on his face. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

     “Welcome home, (your name).”

.

.

.

    “Shit!” Reign hissed as he slammed his fist into the wall of the seedy motel. (Your name) hasn’t returned to her motel room in a few days now. Could something have happened to her?

    Reign placed his head in his hands as he sighed in aggravation. It was highly unlikely anyone would have her. If anyone… no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that weirdo from high school… what was his name again?

     Dante Noxwell. He was always hovering around wherever (your name) was when they were in school, picking up items she dropped like some sort of pigeon hungry for scraps. He was never a very good looking fellow either with his hunched over back and scarred face. 

    Yet that never stopped (your name) from being kind to the freak. She always sent a smile his way or laughed at his stupid jokes… Reign knew Dante coveted her. Reign always watched Dante’s red eyes stare at (your name) longingly, almost as if he thought he was worthy of her.

    It disgusted Reign to no end. Dante’s eyes, Dante’s smiles, and most of all, his audacity to even breathe the same air as (your name), pissed him off to no end.

    No one deserved to be around her, no one but him. Nobody could protect (your name) as well as Reign did. It was Reign’s own fault for being careless and leaving the tv remote in a place she could find it. She just didn’t understand the lengths he had to go through to protect her. 

    Once he found her though, he would be sure to lock her up even better this time. He had gotten too comfortable with time but he’d have to improve where he failed. 

   Reign swore to himself he’d never fail (your name) ever again. She would never, ever escape from him again. Never.

    Reign stormed out of the room, his head deep in his thoughts. Perhaps he could try Dante’s address… it wouldn’t hurt to try would it?

    Reign placed his hand in his pockets. Completely unaware of the security camera focused on him…

.

.

.

    (Your name) groaned, the dancing dreams flickering away when her eyes fluttered opened to see the bright sun light that lit up the room. Had she truly passed out?

    (Your name) glanced around the room in confusion. How I’m earth did she get back to her room and what was going on?

     “Hello-“

    The bedroom door creaked open revealing a tall feminine figure. The maid wore a white mask with the number seven on it in pink, entered the room with perfect posture. The door loudly shutting behind her.

    The maid gave (your name) a curtsy before grabbing an outfit from the closet beside the bed. Her white gloves were completely spotless and she had such a strange scent to her…

     “Oh, you don’t have to-“ (your name)’s eyes widened at all the clothes that were in her size. How on earth did they have her size? “How do you have my size-“

  The maid gently handed (your name) the clothes, the young woman grabbing her hand in haste.

    “Wait-“ the maid pulled her arm away, the glove slipping off her hand a bit to reveal greenish tinted skin. Alarm bells ringing in (your name)’s head at the sight. “What-“

    The maid quickly pulled up her glove before bowing. The maid quickly exited the room, (your name)’s mouth hanging open in surprise.

   What on earth was wrong with the maid’s skin?

   “Are you decent yet, (your name)?” Dante’s low voice from the other side of the door requested politely. “I’ll escort you to breakfast on the patio personally.”

      “Not yet!” (Your name) bit at her nails. The young woman didn’t really want to stay at Dante’s home any longer. Something felt completely off about the place and she did not want to spend a minute longer in here.

     (Your name) nervously fidgeted with her hands. She was going to have to sneak out at night in order to get away from him. And hopefully everyone would be asleep by then.

   Dante frowned at (your name). He could tell what the young woman was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. Looks like he’d have to teach her a lesson earlier than expected.

    For now, he’s play along. He would treat her like a princess and make sure not to slip up in front of her. 

    A soft jingle came from Dante's phone, the male quickly looking at the device in annoyance. Yet his expression quickly changed to joy at what he saw.

    “Oh what is it, Dante?” (Your name) asked, a fake smile on her pretty lips.

    “Oh nothing too crazy…” Dante gave (your name) a bright jovial smile. “Just found out I finally caught the rat in my trap is all. That vermin has been plaguing me for quite some time.”

   (Your name) nodded, completely oblivious to what Dante had truly meant. But that was okay. Dante didn’t think she’d like that he had referred to Reign as a rat.

  Yet she didn’t know that Dante had purposely put out the wrong address for people to find him at if they looked hard enough. It was always funny to see his enemies in the graveyard they would soon be buried in.

    Dante cleared his throat before gleaming at the woman beside him. She had no idea how elated he truly was with this news. One more body to join his collection.

.

.

.

      Dante smiled at all of the security footage on his computer screen. His face twisting into a grin as he spotted Reign entering the hotel where (your name) was last seen. 

    How silly of Reign to not think that Dante would finally have the upper hand this time. 

    A deep chuckle left Dante’s throat, his eyes turning to the other monitor to see all the angles of (your name)’s bedroom. A dreamy sigh leaving his throat.

   “Soon you’ll be all mine. And this time with no interruptions.” Dante leaned his cheek against the screen that showed (your name) sleeping in her bed. The dark haired man gently kissing the screen before releasing a dreamy sigh. “It’ll all go the way it was supposed to the first time.”

.

.

     (Your name) wandered around the halls, being sure to duck into the corners to avoid being spotted by the workers of the estate. 

    She had to get out of here as quickly as she could. It just didn’t feel safe anymore. It has already been almost two weeks since she had been trapped in this estate. 

  Anything was better than being trapped like a bird in a cage again.

    (Eye color) eyes peered around the corners to make sure no one would spot her before she crossed over to the other hall. So far, no luck in finding an exit.

   Tap. Tap. Tap. (Your name) paused in her steps, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked worker with a blue number, eighteen, on their forehead that strolled adjacent to the hall she was on. The young woman gulping at the rifle strapped to their back. Why on earth would a worker need a rifle?

   (Eye color) orbs quickly scanned for a place to hid. A black door sat to her right. 

  As quiet as a mouse, the young woman tiptoed to the door. Her body shaking in fear of being discovered by the worker. 

   (Skin color) hands shook as she turned the handle. The woman rushed into the door, the door softly clicking shut behind her. A sigh of relief leaving her throat.

    (Your name) turned around and leaned her back against the door. Her (eye color) orbs widening at shock in what the room held. 

   The room stretched in a barely illuminated hall. A large portrait covered with a red drape sat on the end of the hall as well as a light switch. Each side of the wall appeared to be lined with a pattern of mirrors and portraits of some sort.

  What on earth could that possibly be? What were truly on those walls?

    Before (your name) could stop herself, her feet wandered forwards towards the covered up portrait. As if she were a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.

    She needed to know what was behind that drape. Perhaps it was the truth of this entire situation. Her  limbs continued to move on their own. Her hands reaching out to lightly touch the drape that held the portrait.

    With a sharp tug, the drape fell to the ground, all the lights turning on in the room to reveal the entire hall. The grotesque face of a boy from her past staring back at her.  The scarred up face of her schoolmate stared back at her with his dull red eyes.

   “Oh my god…” (your name) took a step back before falling onto her bottom. It all made sense now on why she felt so uncomfortable.

   (Your name) then turned to gaze down the lit up hall. Bile riding in her throat at the various portraits of Dante’s face and body changing over the years. Yet it was one that stuck out to her the most…

    It was the small picture of Reign that sat in the corner of each portrait. Was Dante trying to be Reign?

    (Your name) quickly rose up to her feet. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe here. No… it was never safe here.

    (Your name) quickly dashed down the hall, only to see one of the guards standing in front of the doorway. A rotting stench coming from him.

   “Please move-“ the guard pushed his mask aside to reveal the green skin of a walking corpse. His eyes, nose, and tongue completely missing. 

     (Your name) screamed loudly as the guard came charging at her. An inhuman snarl leaving the guard’s throat. 

   But a swift kick came to the guard’s side. Dante standing over the guard with a disgusted look on his face.

    “What a useless puppet you are.” Dante then held out his hand, the corpse instantly turning to dust. “He didn’t scare you too much, did he darling?”

    (Your name) froze at the familiar nickname. Her whole body convulsing into shivers.

    “I’m glad you know who I am now!” Dante smiled brightly  as if he hadn’t just turned a corpse to dust a second ago. “We can finally continue where we left off!”

    “What are you talking about?” (Your name) whimpered, Dante chuckling. His red eyes shining brightly.

    “Well the answer to the letter I sent you all those years ago, darling!” Dante exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Unless you didn’t get to read it before that bastard ripped it out of your hands.”

    Oh (your name) knew exactly what Dante was talking about. He had written her many, many creepy love letters those years. The dead body of the kitten she used to feed was still fresh into her memory. Dante had claimed he saw Reign had poisoned the kitten due to jealousy and wanted her to give it a proper burial. Yet (your name) didn’t think her ex would do such a horrible thing… right?

 But the one he had personally delivered to her was the most simple of all. Dante had asked her to be his girlfriend on his knees in front of the entire school and Reign tore up the confession letter. The blonde then kicking Dante across the head repeatedly.

    “I don’t know if I can give you an answer-“

    “Darling. Baby! You’ve had seven years to think!” Dante’s expression changed to match his frustration with (your name)’s difficulty. “And I had seven years to adjust my appearance to your tastes. Do you know how busy I was over these years? How many diet plans and how much  exercise I pushed myself through just to become the perfect man for you?”

    Dante ripped the front of his shirt to show her his chisels physique. “This body was made specifically for you! I know you’ve always liked the pretty type-“

    “I-I am flattered, but we just met again-“

    “I’m sure you could love me now that I don’t look like what I used to.” Dante interrupted, his large hands holding hers tightly. “I had a hard time finding these parts to use over the years but I only got the best! Just for you! I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you again. My puppets weren’t efficient enough, I guess.“

   (Your name) furrowed her brows at his words, a shiver rolling down her line. What did he mean?

   “What-“

   “Oh you didn’t know did you?” Dante chuckles before holding out his hand, a large number of workers walking up to the door. “My ability is that I can control the dead.”

   (Your name) shuddered as she watched the workers removed their masks to reveal the green skinned monsters she had seen a little while ago. So everyone here was undead?

    “See? I think I can keep you safe better than Reign can! He locked you away so well for all these years. I couldn’t find you like I used to be able to!” (Your name) felt as if she went numb. Could Reign have been insane as well? Did her ex truly lock her away from the world. 

   “Don’t worry! I can do everything he can do but better!” Dante exclaimed with a bright smile. “I just love you so much!”

    “Dante-“ Dante’s hands quickly grasped hers. His red eyes staring intently into hers.

   “You saved me just like you always used to. Its destiny. Can’t you see?” Dante then pressed his lips to her forehead, his body shivering at the contact. “I can love you so much more than Reign can and I make so much more money than him. I could provide for you-“

    “Dante, it’s okay-“

   Dante suddenly pressed his lips against (your name)’s, his soft lips turning into a smile at the contact. The male slowly pulling away.

   “I could give you so much more than he can.” Dante then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. His manhood slowly grinding into hers. “I could… I could please you… whatever you want. I’ll do-“

  “But I want to leave-“ Dante pulled (your name) in for another kiss. His tongue forcefully entering her mouth hole his hands began to grab every bit of flesh he could on her body. A strong of saliva connecting the two when he pulled away again.

   “You can’t. You can’t ever leave me again.” Dante buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll go insane. I won’t be able to live again without you. Please just stay, just stay with me. I’ll make you happy.”

    “Dante I’d be happier outside-“ a sharp prick interrupted (your name)’s words. Her eyes widening at Dante’s twisted smile. 

    “No. You can’t leave again…no. I won’t let you.” (Your name) could feel her body going limp, Dante quickly pulling her into his arms. 

    “I promise to love you more than he ever could. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe.”

    (Your name) felt her vision going dark, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Fear consuming her entire being at the last words she heard from Dante before going into a dreamless sleep.

    “He’ll be taken care of shortly. No more interruptions this time.” 

   What on earth could he possibly mean by that?

.

.

.

    Reign stood in front of a grave yard in confusion. This couldn’t possibly be Dante’s address could it?

    Reign strolled forward. His brows furrowing in thought, unaware of the many eyes that followed his every movement.

   Reign sighed before walking up to the mausoleum in annoyance. Something felt off to him. Almost as if he was missing something. 

  Reign froze when he heard a crunch behind him. The blonde quickly spun around to come face to face with a dark haired man.

    “Who are you?” Reign asked, his brows furrowed in confusion and fear. Why was a man in the middle of a graveyard? 

    “You know who I am very well, Reign.” The male chuckled before slowly walking towards Reign. A twisted smile on his lips. “You used to make my life a living hell everyday after all.”

   “No… you can’t possibly be…” Reign couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way the man in front of him was Dante. He was far too beautiful to be the hunched back boy he used to bully. “Dante?”

    “In the flesh, or at least what is left. I sort of killed that old Dante off years ago.” Dante chuckled, his red eyes meeting Reign’s shocked blue ones. “That boy was far too weak and too helpless to stop you back then. But now… ever since I got my powers. I can easily stop you.”

   Reign held out a hand to blast water at Dante, only for arms to shoot out from the ground and grab his arms and feet. Reign screamed at the sight of all the undead monsters below him. The blonde thrashing to escape but to no avail.

   “Why don’t we chat for a bit, Reign? We have lots of catching up to do after all.” Dante smiled before a chair made of bones rose up from the ground for him to sit on. “You are supposedly supposed to defeat me after all. Nox is a good villain name, don’t you think?”

    “You’re sick. How could you kill so many people-“ a twisted laugh interrupted Reign. Reign’s eyes widening in fear at the feral look on Dante’s face.

   “I’m sick? Then what are you? A saint?” Dante stood from  his chair, the tall male grabbing Reign’s jaw to stare him directly in the eye. “You killed too for her you know. And hurt. And bullied. I was merely searching for her is all. I even tried to find her in other people but to no avail…”

   Dante let go of Reign’s chin to reach into his coat pocket. His pale hand holding out a strand of (hair color) hair in front of the blonde. Reign’s breath hitching in fear and anger.

   “What did you do to her… what did you do to her?!”

   Dante laughed as he began to taunt the blonde with the locks of hair. “Oh nothing yet. I’m merely trying to have her warm her heart up to me. The Stockholm syndrome merely hasn’t set in yet. But she’ll be set for life if she gives into it.”

   Dante placed a hand to his cheek as he let out a lovesick sigh. “She’ll be such a beautiful bride. I did so much work trying to make everything perfect for her… the perfect looking husband, the perfect home, and… a lot of money. I could provide for her and maybe even a small family if she’d allow me the pleasure!” Dante gave Reign a mischievous smirk. “Something you could’ve easily have had if you hadn’t slipped up. Thank you for that by the way. Her and I have been reunited at last… I promise to take good care of her-“

    A glob of spit hit Dante’s cheek, causing Dante to sigh in annoyance. Dante wiped the spit off his cheek in distaste before glaring at Reign.

   “Tch. Seven years and you still haven’t learned proper manners. A shame.”

    “Go to hell.” Reign snarled, his blue eyes glowering at Dante in hatred. 

   “I’ll see you there in a few years then.”

   “I’m going to save her from you!” Reign snarled, the blonde thrashing in the undead’s cold grasp. “I will get her back-“

   Dante gave Reign a sadistic smile, causing the blonde to freeze up. 

    “Sorry. I don’t plan on giving you the same luxury you gave me all this years ago when you beat me to a pulp in front of the entire school.” Dante began to shush the blonde’s tears in a teasing manner. “Shhhh. You’ll be among the dead soon. And I will be the only victor from this.” 

   “But… heroes always-“

   “Oh but who ever said you were a hero?” Dante teased. “Heroes would never do the things you do. You could’ve moved on like a normal person but just like a rat, you’re always digging into places you shouldn’t be. A pity.”

    Dante snapped his fingers, a large army of the undead crawling out from their graves like grotesque puppets.

    “Kill him.” Dante then walked away, the sound of Reign’s screams filling the graveyard. A sound that came to a sudden halt, almost as if it had never even happened.

    “What a shame. I was really hoping for something more… climatic to our reunion.” Dante muttered to himself before turning back. “But I do truly think she’d come to love me more.”

    Dante snapped his finger, a reanimated Reign crawling towards him. A sinister smile crawling on his lips. “Don’t you think I’m more suited for (your name), Reign?”

[pinchofhoney]

broken promises, part three

« part one | part two | part three (the last one)

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion

summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.

a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.

Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.

Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.

You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.

The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.

At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.

As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.

With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.

You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.

It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.

Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.

And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.

As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.

You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.

But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.

Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.

You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.

You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.

On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.

You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.

Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.

As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.

His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.

“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”

Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.

“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.

You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”

Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.

“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.

“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.

Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.

“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”

His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.

You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.

In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.

“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.

“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”

You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.

“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”

“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.

“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.

You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.

Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.

“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”

Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.

He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.

“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.

With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.

Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.

He seemed colder than his very name.

64 YEARS LATER

The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.

Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”

Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”

You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.

“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”

The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.

“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”

Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.

“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”

Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.

As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.

Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.

It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.

Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.

Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.

But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.

You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.

As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”

Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”

Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🧼🤍DROP THE OLD STORY NOW !!🧼🤍

🧼Do a favor to yourself, please drop the old story now!!!Stop complaining , stop persisting in the old story. Focus on the new story, replace the old story with the new story. The new story where you get everything you want and have all your desires. The more you are repeating the story , the more dominant it becomes, and you continue to manifest the old story in your reality.

🤍If you are repeating the old story , you are also consciously or unconsciously putting yourself in the victim mentality. Please realize that you are the creator of your reality, the old story has no control over you , you have control over the old story. Let's say , you want to manifest appearance change but you keep repeating the old story , do you think you will manifest the new story or your desire by continously repeating the old story ?

🧼The dominant story manifests - if your old story is more dominant than the new story then your old story will continue to manifest and vice versa. Now how do we make the new story more dominant than the old one ? According to me , you must affirm to remind yourself of the new story , in other words , affirm to remind yourself that you already have your desires. Mental diet is always helpful , focus on the new story more. ( click me to know more about mental diet !) The more you affirm that " you are chosen " the more dominant " you are chosen" story will manifest in your reality.

🤍If you have read my previous post ( click me !) where I mentioned the difference between conscious and subconscious mind, our subconscious mind is emotional and can't differentiate between what is real and what is fiction.Our subconscious mind is our naive friend who believes whatever we tell them.We should use this to our advantage. "Your subconscious mind is like a bed of soil that accepts any kind of seed , good or bad . Your thoughts are active;they are the seeds. Negative , destructive thoughts continue to work negatively in your subconscious mind. Sooner or later, they will emerge and take shape as an outer experience that corresponds to their content" -Dr Joseph Murphy, The power of subconscious mind

🧼For instance, you want to manifest clear skin but you keep seeing tiny bumps on your skin. Don't complain about it or react, tell yourself how you have the most clearest skin in the universe!!! What tiny bumps ?? Your skin is so clear that even WONYOUNG IS JEALOUS!! or let's say you want to manifest a good self- concept, to manifest good self- concept , stop complaining about your old one! If you aren't telling it to anyone but telling yourself about how you have it all and everything always works out for you. You aren't only creating a new self concept or a new story , you are rewiring your subconscious and the 3D reality into becoming what you want. Stop telling yourself the old story , it doesn't exist. Only your new story exists where you have everything you want.

🤍Sometimes you may need to push yourself to affirm the new story. Leaving the old story may cause discomfort but it's totally worth it ! Don't allow the old story or the unwanted 3D reality to take the best of you. You deserve a good life, you deserve to be happy ! 💗

🧼Be delusional, you have your desires because you said so !! Anything is possible , there are no limits. You are limitless !!

🤍It's okay to react , waver or doubt yourself but it's not okay to stay there forever. Feel your emotions, but get back on track.

🧼One more example , suppose you aren't chosen and struggle with rejection. In order to be chosen , feel being chosen. Affirm . Embody it. Whenever you get thoughts like you are not chosen by your desired person or friends or school or college etc, reject them.Ask yourself why you are feeling this way ? Know that you and only you can change this feeling and turn it to your desired feeling. According to me , affirmations work the best. Affirm . Even if you only repeat one basic affirmation - " I am chosen " , it will work. You need to make the " I am chosen " story dominant. The more you focus on it , the more dominant it will become and manifest in your reality .

[a41-i-finally-caved]

JJ and PTSD and why 4.10 was a slap in the face

Okay. so. Here's my issue.

(there will be a ton of cursing because I'm fucking pissed.)

JJ's ENTIRE FUCKING ARC has been him feeling like he's worthless, like he's somehow inherently evil, that he "deserves" the things that happen to him, that everything's all his fault. That he should be killed saving his friends because that's all he's fucking good for.

And that? That's not a JJ-exclusive thought pattern. That's what happens to your brain when you're a CHILD and a fucking grown ass man instills that in your head. Whether physical and verbal abuse like they showed in canon, or childhood sexual abuse like what's happened to me and many, many others. An adult shows you that you're not worth shit compared to them, and since you, again, are a child, you fucking believe them. Adults teach you about the world, and kids are good fucking listeners.

So you grow up knowing down to your guts that you don't belong on this earth, you don't own your body, you don't deserve the space you take up. Any of y'all confused by JJ's bullshit?? Well there you go. That's the very basic assumption he's working off of: he's dead, been dead for years, so what the fuck's it matter what he does? It doesn't.

(I don't know how to express that screaming lack of existence to those with an inherent understanding of their own worth and right to living but the closest I can get is this. You look at yourself and understand that no matter what actions you take, you are wrong on a soul-deep level and there's nothing you can do about it.)

Here's the thing. It's all bullshit. And it takes so much fucking effort to believe that, and some days you don't but you trust that you will tomorrow or the next day or the next. That's called healing. That's called living.

Because the only way past this is time and support and fucking proving with every breath that no. Fuck you. I deserve to be here. I deserve to get old. To cry. To weep. To fucking dance on a dock because you finally made a home. That you deserve to LIVE.

And S4E10 just declared no; you don't. JJ was too damaged to give him any other ending. Even Kie couldn't fix him. The best he could hope for was dying in the dirt with someone he loved. Oh look he gave up the crown! He was happy in the end! He had his wish! He loved her!!

Yeah well sorry to bust the 'isn't it all so tragic' circle jerk, but no. It's not fucking poetic. Or beautiful. Or God-fucking-forbid romantic. It's shit.

Because JJ Maybank was never real, but they chose to highlight the very much real pain I and others struggle with using his story. And then they told me that struggle ends with death...because how else could it end?

Just because y'all can't imagine living his life and going on, and going on, and going on, and not fucking killing yourself doesn't mean the rest of us aren't looking down that path every day and deciding to break those lies in one moment of existence after another.

The showrunners missed that.

If they wanted to finish JJ's arc? It wasn't saving Kie, or finally having some 'realization', or sacrificing himself for his friends. It wasn't some short but meaningful life.

JJ needed to fucking live to prove that he deserved it. End of story.

Thanks for the slap.