#also Rose does have her own family | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smokesandsonatas · 3 months ago

Note

among the twst cast, who do you think will be the best in-laws? just asking out of curiosity, cuz i personally think that trappola fam will be chill, also i imagine them doting on their grandbabies, or like crying at your wedding day xd

- I go crazy when I receive asks like this, djsjhs. I included everyone and how I think their actions will be justified as to whether their families will be good or 'bad' in-laws.

Reader is termed as "wife" and as a normal human. -

Right off the bat, let’s start with Riddle. You and Riddle’s mother will never get along. She and her son have much to discuss anyway, and we know how Riddle even mentioned that the Queen of Hearts has a lovely relationship his parents could learn from. If Mrs. Rosehearts is strict with her own child, imagine how much more she’d be with you! She probably has a list of acceptable spouses for Riddle, so just imagine her shock when he brings you home—shock that quickly turns to rage when she realizes you’re magicless. She will be a horrible mother-in-law. Mr. Rosehearts, however, will most likely be courteous about your relationship with his son. In fact, I can see him helping you and Riddle move somewhere away from their house in the Queendom of Roses. He’ll probably attend your wedding, but Mrs. Rosehearts? Probably not. It will take a long time before Mrs. Rosehearts can accept you wholeheartedly, and when she does, tears will be shed.

The Diamond family is harder to gauge. Mr. and Mrs. Diamond would likely respect your relationship enough to make sure you’re comfortable. Cater’s sisters, on the other hand, might urge you to become their new doll—though not as extreme as they did with him. Overall, they will accept you as part of their family. And if Cater doesn’t want to attend family reunions, they’ll accept that, though they can’t help but feel a little hurt and neglected. Maybe they’ll even start to reflect on how they’ve treated their son.

The Clover family are lovely people! When Trey introduces you to his parents, they’ll erupt into cheers, baking you pastries and a personalized cake tailored to your tastes. They won’t care if you’re magicless; as long as you make their son happy, that’s all that matters. Mr. and Mrs. Clover will even offer you and Trey the chance to manage their bakery. It’ll be up to you both whether to accept. Overall, they’ll be great in-laws, and they might even make wonderful grandparents.

Deuce’s mom, Dylla, is such a girlboss! As a mother-in-law, she’ll be the cool type, letting you hang out with her at car races, driving trucks, or doing anything outdoorsy. She might even suggest that you, she, and Deuce get matching small tattoos. She’s very chill and will always welcome you with open arms. You’ll have no trouble getting along with Deuce’s mom—sometimes, Deuce even wonders if his mom loves you more than him.

Ace’s family will welcome you with open arms—and with a bunch of pranks! Mr. Trappola is a normal human, so he won’t hold your magicless status against you. Ace’s older brother, however, will endlessly tease him with some good old brotherly banter. Mr. and Mrs. Trappola will probably shed tears on your wedding day, making it a fun, sentimental, and most of all, enjoyable occasion.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Kingscholars are royalty, so let’s be realistic: they’ll most likely not approve of Leona, their youngest son and second prince, marrying a normal human, especially a magicless one. They probably have plans to arrange a marriage with a fellow beastman from another noble or elite family, and your relationship could cause a scandal. But if Leona insists, then a wedding will happen. It will take a lot of convincing for the Kingscholars to accept you, especially since Mr. Kingscholar is ill. Falena will most likely be the first to accept you, either out of love for his brother or perhaps because he sees you as a key to fixing his strained relationship with Leona. Cheka, on the other hand, will love you! In fact, he might prefer your company over his lioness mother’s, though he won’t admit it.

Grandma Bucchi will shed tears of joy when Ruggie brings you home and introduces you as his lover. She’ll feel relieved that Ruggie has found someone who’ll take care of him—a lifelong companion, since she’s not as strong as she used to be. Prepare for a deep heart-to-heart with Grandma Bucchi, who will also show you pictures of baby Ruggie! She may even drop hints that she wants a grandchild from the two of you. Yes, she takes care of the other beast children in the neighborhood, but it wouldn’t hurt to give her a mini Ruggie.

The Howl family will accept you wholeheartedly. They believe that wolf beastmen like them have only one soulmate, and if Jack has found that in you, who are they to oppose? They’re not overly bearing, but they might occasionally ask whether you and Jack plan to have little Howl children. Jack’s siblings will adore you!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Ashengrotto family will welcome you! Azul is their baby, so whoever Azul loves, it’s guaranteed that they’ll accept you too. It probably won’t matter if you’re a human or magicless. Azul has a way with words and will have nothing but praises for you in front of his family. Mrs. Ashengrotto might sulk a little if Azul chooses to live on land and start a family with you there rather than in the sea, but the compromise is that you’ll build a house near the seaside. Mr. Ashengrotto will likely insist on having both a sea and land wedding, though Azul probably planned on that anyway. They won’t be toxic as in-laws and will likely dote on you, but they’ll definitely want to take care of any little Ashengrotto babies you have. Sometimes, you might wonder if they’re a bit too attached to their grandchildren…

The Leech family will also welcome you. If you decide to marry one of the Leech sons—or both of them (polygamy isn’t unheard of in the sea; hey, different customs)—they’ll make sure you feel at ease. Mr. Leech, who reminds you so much of Floyd, might ask if you know self-defense. When you say no, he’ll laugh and assure you that his sons will protect you anyway. He finds it amusing that Floyd calls you Shrimpy, though there’s a certain air of intimidation when he speaks... Mrs. Leech, who reminds you of Jade, is beautiful and speaks just like her other son. She’ll ask you questions like, “My dear, how can you protect yourself when you are magicless?” with a smile on her face. At one party dedicated to your arrival into the Leech family, you saw firsthand how Mr. Leech made everyone sign...something. When you asked the twins about it, they dismissed your concerns and assured you not to worry. They’ll be cool in-laws, but they won’t disclose any personal business with you—only with their sons. No matter how much you ask about their family business, because you want to help, you’ll get nowhere (it's for your safety, they say). The Leech family will dote on you, but there’s always an underlying sense that you’ve been inducted into something much larger and deeper than just a family of merfolk eels. Sometimes they have unexpected visits to your house in land, and you had a feeling that Mrs. Leech might dote on you only so she can spend time with her Leech grandbabies...

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Al-Asims are so supportive of Kalim! There’s a certain sense of relief that you’re not associated with anything in their world, because they might worry that whoever is with Kalim, one of the richest men on earth, would take advantage of his kindness. But you don’t. Mr. Al-Asim will provide anything you ask for and will probably give you and Kalim a bunch of mansions, cars, and luxuries everywhere. Though they likely have a list of potential spouses for Kalim, the Al-Asims are glad he chose you. However, they’d be delighted if Kalim produces an heir one day. If Kalim chooses to be monogamous, they’ll accept it.

The Viper family will be glad to welcome you. Although they belong to the servant class under the Al-Asims, they won’t force you to serve them too. You think Jamil might have something to do with this… Anyway, they really like you, and they see how genuinely you admire their son—a mere servant in their eyes, but so much more to you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Mr. Schoenheit will adore you! Because Vil is his precious, beautiful child, that love will extend to you too. He’s a different man as Eric Venue on set and as Vil’s dad in personal life. He’s quite strict, or so you’ve heard from the actual staff on a movie he’s co-producing, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. The Schoenheits are hardworking, perfectionist people—not in a bad way, of course. When news breaks that you and Vil are expecting a child, either Eric Venue or Vil will put out a statement asking for your privacy to be respected. Overall, Eric will be a good in-law and a great grandfather. Imagine how cool it is to have a famous celebrity as an in-law and imagine being surrounded by a literal DILF and the most beautiful man in Twisted Wonderland. Damn. It’s a guarantee your child will be as beautiful as their father. Sometimes, though, Vil gets a little pouty when you stare at his father for a little too long…

You know the feeling of a family getting together for the first time in years despite their busy schedules to enjoy days full of celebration? That’s how Rook introduced you to his family. It is lively! The Hunt family likes you! The first thing they ask you and Rook is how the family planning is going. They’re quite a big family with six children, so they expect the same for you and Rook. Mr. and Mrs. Hunt are adoring in-laws, but when you ask about their family business, they’ll merrily dodge the questions, much like Rook does, telling you not to worry. When Rook leaves for long periods of time due to work, he’ll vehemently update you every hour. In the meantime, you and Mrs. Hunt, along with Rook’s sisters-in-law—the wives of his brothers—will go on pampering girls’ days! They’ll make sure you never feel lonely or left out, even when Rook’s away.

The Felmier family threw a celebration in your name when Epel introduced you. Grandma Marja cried, seeing how much her grandson has grown. Mr. and Mrs. Felmier hugged you tightly and thanked you for being with their lovely son, and you swore you felt a tear trickle down your cheek too. They will be loving in-laws, with a tight-knit family that supports each other. Once news breaks that you and Epel are expecting a child, another celebration will be held to welcome the new apple of their eye. They’ll likely insist on a traditional apple-themed baby shower, and they’ll spoil you and Epel with home-cooked meals, ensuring you’re both well cared for.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Shrouds, especially Mrs. Shroud, will be ecstatic once Idia introduces you to them. Mr. Shroud, while less outwardly emotional, will be overjoyed in his own way. Over time, you’ll notice just how much he and Idia resemble each other. It won’t matter if you’re not as tech-savvy as they are; Idia already has S.T.Y.X.’s management covered. Mr. and Mrs. Shroud will show their affection in small but meaningful ways, or surprising you with thoughtful gifts—your own helmet. If any negative comments about you and Idia pop up online, they’ll be blocked faster than you can blink. Kidding—mostly. They’ll likely expect a little Shroud or two in the next few years, and they’ll gently remind you of this as they’re getting older and eager for grandchildren. Despite their eccentricities, they’ll make you feel like a cherished member of their family, though you’ll need to adjust to their unique ways of showing love and the way of their work, ergo taking care of S.T.Y.X and their various shady businesses.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Draconias, especially Grandmother Maleficia, will formally welcome you into the family. However, the atmosphere might feel a bit too formal for your liking. A relationship with Malleus is one thing, but marriage is a whole different story. The Senate will likely oppose the union, with Grandmother Maleficia caught between keeping her beloved grandson happy and appeasing the increasingly vocal pressures from the Senate and close-minded fae who cannot accept a human—especially a magicless human—as their future queen. The weight of these expectations will hang over your relationship, adding tension to an otherwise loving bond. The prospect of Malleus Draconia marrying a human would be met with significant resistance within the Briar Valley. The fae population, steeped in centuries of tradition and wary of outsiders, would likely view such a union as a potential threat to their way of life. Some might even call for extreme measures, such as political unrest or, in the worst-case scenario, a war to prevent the marriage from taking place. However, Malleus will stand by you, determined to weather the storm together. Over time, and with Malleus’s formidable power and influence, even the most skeptical fae could be convinced that this union could bring about a new era of understanding and unity between their worlds. As for Grandmother Maleficia, though she may seem distant at first, she’ll eventually warm up to you, especially when she sees how happy you make Malleus. And should the two of you have children (the Draconias badly needed predecessors), she’ll be the first to dote on her great-grandchildren as long as she is alive, ensuring they’re raised with both love and the proud traditions of the Draconia family.

The Zigvolt family is not new to interspecies relationships, with Mama Zigvolt being a fae and Papa Zigvolt a normal human dentist. She will support you! Her fiery nature as a fae will come in handy, while Papa Zigvolt's kindness will help balance out her energy. Overall, they will be happy for you and Sebek. Grandfather Baur, on the other hand, might accept you more easily than you thought—he is not a close-minded fae anymore. He is at a point of contentment, so whoever Sebek or any of his grandchildren chooses, he will be eager to accept them. Also, he might—or might not—visit you every afternoon (he's just concerned, not excited... he says as he hands you a crocheted baby comforter) once he hears you're expecting a mini Sebek Zigvolt.

Silver’s relationship with his father, Lilia, is central to his life, so naturally, Lilia’s opinion of you will weigh heavily on him. Fortunately, Lilia err Mr. Vanrouge is likely to be one of the most supportive and understanding in-laws you could ask for. His playful and easygoing nature means he’ll probably tease you a bit, but it’s all in good fun. Lilia will genuinely be happy for Silver, and he’ll go out of his way to make you feel welcome in their home. Expect to be roped into all sorts of whimsical activities—like trying out new (and sometimes questionable) recipes, or being part of his elaborate pranks. Lilia will also be very protective of both you and Silver, always looking out for your well-being. And if you have another baby addition to the Vanrouge family, Lillia will be the happiest Fae alive.

Lilia Vanrouge is an ancient and enigmatic Fae, while appearing child-like he possesses a kind heart and incredible wisdom. While traditional in-law doesn't apply to him (seeing as he is the in-law himself), he does need someone who can stand beside him as a parental figure, particularly for Silver and by extent Malleus. Lilia’s “family” may be unconventional, but his close bonds with Silver, Sebek, and Malleus make them feel like one. He’ll cherish every moment with you, appreciating the little things that come with mortal life, and your companionship will be a light in his long existence. Your role isn’t just as a partner to Lilia, but as someone who can guide and protect Silver alongside him, offering the same wisdom, kindness, and love that Lilia has given. If you and Lilia have children, they will grow up surrounded by love, knowledge, and a deep sense of wonder, with Lilia ensuring they never lose their sense of playfulness and joy. Should it end like that then Lilia can say that he has lived it all, and he can go on to the stars wholeheartedly. He lived his life surrounded with the people he loves, finding contentment at the end of his days.

1K notes · View notes

etfrin · 11 months ago

Text

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus finds out the plint prize won't be his, at least for now but the district twelve girl belongs to him

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's the first chapter ;)) hope you like it?! Remember to give feedback guys! And beta read by @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | series taglist | navigation

previous : prologue

Coriolanus Snow wakes up to his grandmother singing the Panem national anthem. He quickly takes a shower, trying to ignore the squeaks of rats in his bathroom. He rubs himself clean, turning his skin red from the raw scrubbing. He stops as his fingers brush on the scar tissue he has on his wrist.

He takes a deep breath, not letting his mind wander off to you. It's the reaping day. It's the plinth prize. A prize he was going to win. You were of no importance today, or ever for that matter.

But still, he can't help but imagine that the date was etched on his skin. The numbers were written with ink darker than the night, now all that remained was an ugly scar that gave him a nastier remainder.

He shakes himself out of it. His hands grab a towel to dry himself. He fixes his curls, trying to make them as stylish as possible. He has a reputation to keep up after all. Thankfully, today wasn't one of the days in which his eye bags were obvious, the hollow of his cheeks too obvious due to lack of food.

He looked surprisingly healthy like any privileged Capitol citizen would look like.

He gets out of the bathroom to go to his grandma’ams. He gives her a note on her singing of the national anthem before asking her where Tigris is. Just on cue, Tigris bursts in.

Her voice was excited, her face all smiles. She hands him a shirt, his dad's old dress shirt renewed with tesserae buttons. He wore it, letting his cousin rant about the process of it all. Even though he had no interest in listening, it was a thank you in his way.

He pins the rose given to him on his shirt. Teasing his family members about new dresses and chocolates. He was going to win the Plinth Prize, nobody could take this away from him. It was his right.

In the academy, he chats with his inner circle. Making snide comments about Sejanus and his Ma. That's when you come in, a drink in your hand. Your eyebrows are raised as you look at Arachne with barely hidden disgust.

Fuck, you looked stunning in your dress. He has to dig his nails into his palm to remind himself not to stare. Why are you torturing him by being so pretty? You're just a district girl, you had no business having such beauty.

“Tell us who won,” Arachne said with her haughty voice, “Your boy toy surely would have spoiled it by now.” You laugh in response.

A small giggle escapes your lips. You don't take offense by having Sejanus being called your boy toy. Coriolanus wants to furrow his eyebrows from your reaction. Were you and Sejanus dating? No way in hell. Even if you're district, you're better than Sejanus in every way. He wants to scowl at the implications.

(You're his, his, his)

“I wouldn't dare ruin his big day, Arachne,” Sejanus's voice rings out instead, him standing behind you. His arm around your shoulder. “People may not like my father but they do love his money. Surely you can relate?” Sejanus grins.

“Funny,” Arachne replied with a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “Don't be mean, Sej.” You sip your drink and Coriolanus’ eyes can't help but follow the movement of your tongue poking out to lick your lips clean of the drink. His eyes also glare at Sejanus's hand on your shoulder, a part of him wishing he could break his arm.

You turn to Coriolanus. “Nice shirt,” you comment with a smile, and Snow can tell it's more genuine than anything you flashed at the rest of your classmates. He feels himself flush at the compliment. Not even stopping you even though he should because why should your dirty hands touch him? But he doesn't stop you when your fingers reach out to delicately touch the red rose pinned to his shirt.

“Such a beautiful flower,” you mutter in fascination, “and fresh too.” You tear away a rose petal, crushing the poor thing between your fingers, the tip of your fingers turning red.

He watched, no thoughts in his mind but he knew he should be offended. It has been ten years of your behavior he had endured, yet not once could he open his mouth to insult you.

How weak had you turned him since day one. If anyone knew, he would be ruined.

“Did you have to do that?” Clementia frowns, “Flowers are significant to the Snows.'' You only smirk in reply to Clementia. “I see,” you comment, before taking Sejanus's hand in yours.

You begin to walk away but Snow sees you turn around for a split second. Your eyes meet his and your lips form a word. Sorry. He mouths back, ‘ It's fine. ’

You smile at him and turn back, walking towards the chair where the top 24 seniors are supposed to sit, waiting for the announcement. You had let go of Sejanus’ hand by then, letting relief fall over Coriolanus.

Coryo's fingers rub the scar tissue over the fabric of his shirt. It was going to be fine. Over the years, both of you have grown up a lot. Despite having district blood, you consider yourself Capitol more than Sejanus did. You had adjusted first, and even if your peers didn't accept you, their families were certainly charmed by you during the galas.

You were smarter than Sejanus. You were better than Sejanus. Certainly, you couldn't be compared to the Capitol citizens, but you were worthy in Coriolanus' eyes. That doesn't mean he accepts you as his soulmate. That's something that won't ever change, however, the pride he felt towards you is something he couldn't control.

Coriolanus sits between you and Sejanus. He liked the fact that he was in between like a border neither of you should cross. Sejanus whispered to him, his voice grating but Coriolanus heard what he said.

“I know you had high hopes for this,” he whispered, “But there won't be no Plinth Prize. Not today.”

Coriolanus freezes as he hears what Sejanus means. What does he mean by no Plinth Prize? Never in history is that possible. Sejanus must have been mistaken. That's it because otherwise, everything in Coriolanus Snows’ life would go to hell.

However, Sejanus wasn't a liar nor did he make a mistake. Dean Highbottom soon revealed that the 10th annual Hunger Games and the mentor who won will win the prestigious prize Coriolanus needs. Livia Cardew, the girl he loathed, got someone from district one. Sejanus, the lucky bastard, had gotten someone in district two.

You had gotten the boy from district twelve. Someone named Jessup. The boy was healthy, fit, someone who could win under your guidance. Anger blooms in Coriolanus' chest, he tries hard to control the urge to not throw a chair at Dean Highbottom.

Even God wouldn't be so petty as the dean is. For reasons unknown why. The district twelve girl was his. Lucy Gray Braid.

Her makeup is jarring, she was wearing a dress that reminded him of clowns if they used more colors than red and white. The only thing good about her was how she captured attention despite the fact she had already insulted Snow by creating a facade in the reaping.

You can't take my sass

You can't take my talkin'

You can kiss my ass!

He looked at you when he heard the last part. A part of him craved your reaction, surely out of everyone, you wouldn't mock his tribute. You were district yourself after all. You wouldn't mock your people.

What Coriolanus Snow forgot was that you were his soulmate. And in no way the fates would allow his lover to be a saint, an angel as he had hoped for. You were anything but.

You had cruel amusement gleaming in your eyes. A smile of triumph on your lips as if you're sure that you will win the Hunger Games and not him. You turn to him, your eyes hiding the cruelty. You lean forward and Coriolanus counts to ten in his head so his eyes don't fall on your lipstick-stained lips.

“May the best man win,” you whispered, a smirk on your face, filled with the mockery all too familiar like the rest of his peers.

He was going to fucking show you.

“And hereby I declare the beginning of the 10th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be in your favor,” Dr. Gaul's voice calls out to the students.

Odds will be in his favor, whether it be willing by the Lord or his brute force.

Next Chapter

taglist : @tristanswildcat @alllriseabove @sushirolliee

@masimptoowth @ppcowboyprincess @lauravanderbooben20 @captainbabybear

@linkcommercial831 @write-from-the-heart

@kodzuvk @arzua10 @frill04 @cremebruleequeen @illmindedyetfamilliar @nan-nie @xreaderandreaderinserts @impeterporker @shoutingcardinal @coffee-tulips-books @555saccharine @insomniac1345 @chaoticcoffeequeen @xyraphine

1K notes · View notes

hypnos333 · 9 months ago

Text

His little Fawn’s

Alastor x Wife! Reader

Synopsis: You yourself is a doe and gave birth to twins with another or more baby’s on the way

You were laying in both yours and Alastors bed both in undergarments as you wrapped yourself around your husband. Luckily after your free time he bathed you with roses and scented french vanilla so you wouldn’t feel dirty once awoken.

You noticed him slowly awakening “Good morning beloved, how did you sleep?” You ask cheerfully as you touch his ears stroking one of them making him let out a soft sigh before nuzzling into your neck where bite marks and hickeys were everywhere on you.

He slowly rubbed your stomach as the now showing the baby bump, “I slept wonderfully My dear, how about you-” That’s when you both hear tiny footsteps slamming your door open.

“Mama!!!” Your three year old son exclaimed jumping on the bed to hug you but before he could Alastor held him before your son could do any harm to you or the baby. “Now Now Aydin we wouldn’t want to hurt your mother or your siblings” Alastor scolded with a smile making Aydin pout before making grabby arms at you as he was close to tears

“Aww my sweet baby” You cooed at your son as you gently took him away from Alastor before cuddling him and rocking back n forth.

“Papa, Mama?” Your daughter called out as she rubbed her eyes tiredly, Alastor smiled at her before picking her up as she laid her head on his shoulder still wanting to sleep

“Hello my little fawn, how did you sleep?” Alastor asked his daughter as she yawned.

“It was good papa!” She said cheerfully before glancing at you holding Aydin as he drifts to sleep. “How did you sleep mama?” you daughter asked as she was settled next to you so Alastor can go make breakfast for you and the babies.

“I slept good my little Aurora” You answered her before kissing her cheek.

Both your babies cuddled against you can see they have his hair type but your eyes and white freckles but also his sharp teeth. They also still have ears and a tail of course, They don’t have their uncontrollable smile yet but you could tell it’s coming soon.

And Soon they will have their own powers to control.

“Here you are my doe” Alastor said placing a tray with Pancakes and Jasmine tea, You thanked him with a kiss on his lips before he woke up the kids to go eat breakfast.

You both watched them as they rushed to go eat as you chuckled, “What seems to be funny my dear?” Alastor asked smirking at you.

“They really are your Fawns, You three are just so similar in different ways but get bored easily and cause mischief” You explained as he smiled at you softly before taking your hand then kissing each of your knuckles.

“thank you for gifting me with this and our fawns My Doe” He said genuinely as he finally kiss your lips slowly.

“Of course My love, I love you to hell and back and Any day these fawns will be part of this lovely family” You spoke gently as he smiles in excitement.

“Yes and i’m sure Aurora and Aydin would be great brothers and sisters to their new siblings” Alastor added as kissed you baby bump.

Oh he just couldn’t wait till this family is expanded

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x demon reader #alastor x you #alastor x listener #alastor imagine

1K notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 1 year ago

Note

Heyy ya!! Hwo you doing? I wanted to ask maybe you can write Coriolanus x reader when he gets to district after just finishing training for pacekeepers, or maybe where his tribute just arrived to the capitol and the reader maybe says the “what does my mentor do besides bring me roses?” Line? ❤️

A/n the turn around for this was so fast for me 😭 i got excited

hi!! i love these prompts and am so glad for the excuse to write something for him 😭,, also i didn't blatantly make the reader the district 12 tribute bc i didn't want to necessarily cute lucy gray out all together, but it's clear that she's from a poorer district and that being assigned to mentor her is an insult to the Snow name,, also reader pulls a katniss and volunteers for a younger family member bc the irony of that scratches an inch in my brain

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

Warnings: my first time writing for a specific character, Coriolanus's internal thoughts are a little softer than they should be at some points but i love the accidental and deeply impractical crush trope so

---

Of Angels

The desperation masquerading as fierceness behind her eyes is undeniable. Coriolanus feels the way your panic, your shock as the weight of your own words dawn on you in his chest. He swallows, forcing down the feeling.

Take me--take me instead! The phrase is repeated again and again, shaky and pleading.

Something about the display, about the 12-year-old girl that desperately tries to cling to you as peace keepers push you forward, makes it hard to watch. Even worse, it makes it impossible to look away.

The first ever district volunteer. A suicide mission or a--a desperate call for attention? A decision made out of hysteria that you're already starting to regret?

He can't decide as the footage of you being ushered onto stage is played. Surely, Dr. Gaul and other Capitol officials won't find this acceptable. The concept of volunteering has always been reserved for the careers, the districts that produce well fed children that train for this. It's a way to allow them to pick their best, their strongest. It is not a way for someone to lay down their life for someone else.

"Are you saying you volunteer?"

You blink, eyes wild and bright as you openly survey the crowd. Coriolanus briefly thinks that you might attempt to take what he doubts is an actual out. You seem to be considering something before finally nodding once. The motion so stiff it makes you look smaller, like the girl whose name was originally called.

"Yes," you mumble. The softness of it is a personal accost. Your choice was made in panic, but that isn't who you are. You're not much of a performer or a fighter or even bold...you're not much of a chance at the Plinth Prize. "I-I volunteer."

----

In the end, he had come because of Tigris. She had insisted that there was a way to see his tribute as more than just another face from the districts, as more human than animal.

She loves that little girl enough to die in her place. If I was her, I'd want someone to tell me that my choice meant something. I'd want someone to show that they care about me.

The words had felt dismissible at first, but the more he thought about them, the more it made sense. Panem had seen the entire thing, had seen the way that his tribute continued to comfort the younger girl even after sentencing herself to death. There's a story worthy of a show in that.

If he can convince you to go on camera, to speak of the girl, of the choice...maybe he'd have a chance at his future. And if the public support manages to help you in some way or another, that'd only be an additional benefit. You love that girl enough to die for her, maybe that means you love her enough to fight tooth and nail to live for her as well.

The train that stops at each district pulls to a stop. The doors open, releasing the sound of tributes that are learning the consequences of attempting to cause issues for the peacekeepers.

A boy he vaguely recognizes steps out, and then a younger girl. Are you one of the tributes already risking their lives in an attempt to aggravate peacekeepers? Or maybe you're cowering at the back of the train, clinging onto the safety of a familiar space.

You prove to be neither. You emerge from the train, perfectly in tact and stable.

Coriolanus parts his lips, yet no words manage to come out. You're different in person, the white you're dressed in is objectively dirtier than it was when you were reaped and yet somehow, here in the dim, gray station it feels brighter. A stray beam of sunlight breaking through a cluster of clouds. A promise that the storm will end soon and that the angels have yet to abandon the earth.

Your dress is a simple thing, loose enough to be a hand-me-down or maybe even borrowed, the lace of the skirt falling farther down your knees than it should. That paired with the ribbon scraps tied to each side of your head make you look younger and cruelly innocent.

"Hello." The blandness of his own beginning forces a burning sort of regret to take over his chest. You attentively turn, expression kind and expecting. It only makes the embarrassment he doesn't fully understand scorch him from the inside out with more violence. He's once again struck with the desire to look away and finding himself incapable of doing so. "My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm your mentor."

You nod, features hardening. You've pieced it all together--his appearance, what he's saying, and where you are. He's revealed himself as part of the Capitol and now you can no longer watch him with kind, accepting eyes. The look you're giving him is almost enough to make him wish he could have presented this differently.

Coriolanus extends an arm, the carefully chosen pure white rose an olive branch. You blink, eyebrows drawing together before you slowly reach out and take the flower by its stem. Your fingertips brush against his own, the warmth of your skin is so shocking he has to remind himself not to flinch.

"A mentor?" You repeat the word like your only reason for doing so is to try out the foreign word on your tongue. "Does everyone get one or am I just lucky?" You look down at the rose you're now holding. "Or has the rumor that I'm a rebellion trick spread to the Capitol?"

The last question genuinely surprises him. It shouldn't, there had been some talk about why anyone from a poor district would ever choose to go into the games. The way you and the girl you saved reacted to each other could have been staged...but Coriolanus didn't think it was enough to warrant genuine rumors. Anyone that had looked at your eyes and seen the fear in them would have known that it was sacrifice. Is sacrifice. That girl means the world to you.

"No," he starts slowly, "No, everyone gets one and no one here has any preconceptions about you."

You raise your eyebrows, making it clear that you don't believe him. No preconceptions had been a strong way to phrase things, but the urge to assure you had taken over with no warning. You then look away, glancing around to take in your surroundings.

"Then why isn't there..." You trail off, your gaze landing firmly on him. "You're not supposed to be here."

He blinks. For the first time, it feels like you're truly looking at him. His own susceptibility to your wide eyes turns his stomach. You're the one that should feel like something up for display under his stare. "No, I'm not."

The admission forces the edge of your lips to pull upwards. "Alright," you hum, "So what does my mentor do for me besides bring me roses?"

"I do my best to take care of you."

For a second, all you do is stare. He's surprised you. The realization brings him more relief than it should. "The girl who you volunteered for..."

You tilt your head downwards, hiding your expression as your fingers carefully toy with the exterior of the soft petals. "My cousin," the explanation is low, cautious, "But we uh--we're more like sisters."

An in that he doesn't even have to work for. "I understand that." You look up, not bothering to hide your confusion. Maybe you weren't expecting something so human to come out. Maybe human works for you. "During the war, we took care of each other...and then after our parents passed, we were left in the care of our grandmother."

The silence that follows is tight, straining against the sympathies you're not willing to extend to someone like him. Your lips part, and Coriolanus is disgusted by the part of him that's curious about what's going to come next.

You're pushed back with no warning. His attention snaps towards the peacekeeper who is shoving against your shoulder with more force than necessary.

"Excuse--" No reaction, no response as another peacekeeper grabs your arm. "Excuse me, I'm her--" You're being dragged away in order to be packed into another vehicle of transportation with the rest of them.

Coriolanus stays near, doing his best to never lose sight of you in the chaos. A tribute breaks free from the hold of the peacekeepers and launches his body forward. An ill thought out escape attempt. The distraction is all Coriolanus needs. This is his chance to go after you, to cement a connection that will guarantee cooperation.

It's not the distraction that gets him to move or even thoughts of the Plinth prize, it's the final flash of angel white fabric as its forced back into darkness. He rushes forward before he can overthink, entering the vehicle just as the doors shut.

----

i think i might make a part 2!!

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #coriolanus x reader

1K notes · View notes

ebenelephant · 7 months ago

Text

look i've been partaking in fandom for a number of years now but nothing so far has affected me quite so much as ninejackrose, and doctorjackrose in general. i feel nauseous just thinking about them.

because you have the obvious angle; they seem so in love, then jack is abandoned and waits for the doctor for 150 years only to find that rose is gone and the doctor a) has a new face and b) has moved on. after they left him, after all that sincerity and affection, they just carry on as normal as though he'd never been there to begin with. but also, rose clearly doesn't know about jack's immortality, so we have to ask, what does she think happened to him? what did the doctor tell her? how do you even begin to untangle the fucked up ethics of that one?

rose made this man immortal because she couldn't bear to think of him as dead, and no one even told her he'd died in the first place. she was nineteen. the doctor was over nine hundred. jack was in his thirties. she made him into essentially a perfect companion; somebody who the doctor loves, and who he cannot outlive. a reminder of rose's boundless capacity for love, and ten can barely even bring himself to look him in the eyes.

by the time ten meets him for a second time, when the daleks invade, jack is already older than him. jack is more than a thousand years older than him, in fact, because he was buried alive in 27ad and was forced to live for a millennia as a prisoner to the earth and to his own brother. jack finds a new family, finds somebody to love, and they all die. rose gets an imitation of the doctor to love in a world that isn't really her own; their lives will be a blink that the others won't get to see. the doctor also finds love and a family, and also loses them - every version of them.

they meet in a prison millions of lightyears away from where they first met – thousands of years after, depending on who you ask – because jack heard that the doctor needed help. he's barely aged; the doctor has had two faces between this one and last time. she recognises him immediately, though he mistakes someone else for her.

they still remember rose.

#shaking crying throwing up etc etc #chewing at my own ankles #ninejackrose #tenjackrose #doctorjackrose #doctor who #the doctor #rose tyler #jack harkness #torchwood #mine #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #captain jack harkness

729 notes · View notes

captain-joongz · 2 months ago

Text

The moon hangs heavy; Dragonheart ch.2

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

Genre: dragon rider AU, high fantasy, soulmate adjacent, slight enemies to lovers (if you squint), angst, fluff and humour, eventual smut

Chapter summary: The depth of mistrust between dragons and humans is tried when Jungkook attempts to welcome a new addition to his life. Meanwhile his rider fights her own demons in her own home.

Word count: cca 13.8k

Warnings: there's pov switches beware!! first person is reader pov, third person is bangtan pov!!, a bit of toxic family, slight angst, otherwise not much

Series masterlist | Previous Part | Next part

Lore | Dictionary | Character studies

A/N: alrighty folks! here we go, the next chapter of dragonheart is here! things are picking up and now we'll spend a lot more time with all of the dragons! i always love to hear what you think, so don't hesitate to let me know! i hope you enjoy yourselves <3

I couldn’t even remember when I first started putting together the plan to dismantle this empire brick by fucking brick, but I’ve carried hatred against it for as long as I knew what an empire was. Maybe it was my father’s fault, maybe I saw his ways and I wanted to go against that, maybe it was because ever since I was small he dragged me with him between all these dinners and balls and banquets, and I saw all that depravity, all that mold, the rotten heart of the beast.

Wars, suffering, endless toil and loss, and for what? For spoiled nobility and cruel kings? For an empire that saw its people as endless supplies of weapons in battles that they didn’t want and that brought back nothing? The Li Dynasty in its thousand years of reign only brought terror onto the land, into the hearts of its people, and onto anyone who ever dared to go against it.

Once upon a time, this was nothing more than a small struggling kingdom, Wuyun nothing more than a little town with barely a fortress, and now it spanned across half the continent. It devoured everything around it and squeezed it dry, pulled it into its machine of death. War after a war, battle after a battle, until there was nothing left to conquer, but still wanting for more.

Around us kingdoms rose and fell, and the only reason Gong-li didn’t also hit its expiration date was the endless exploitation of the dragonkind. If the emperor didn’t have them to fall back onto, if dragons weren’t too dangerous to fight against and other still surviving lands weren’t too afraid to invite war with such beasts against them, this dynasty would have died a long time ago.

But with such powerful dangerous weapons (it does pain me to say that, but unfortunately that is what dragons have become) in the hands of children (because that’s what we were in their eyes), we still sat at the top of the food chain and became practically impossible to dismount.

Hubris was a terrible thing. And it would always lead to a downfall. I vowed myself to be that downfall.

Tightening my training attire one more time and giving myself last look in the silver mirror, I gave myself a firm nod and left to join the family at breakfast.

As soon as I entered the dining area, my father gave me a curt smile and gestured to the seat to his left side. My brother was sitting to his right, silently eating and reading through a stack of documents. Unlike the older male, he barely even acknowledged my presence and continued on expressionlessly in his task.

I tensely returned the smile and folded myself to the dark comfortable pillow, immediately hungrily digging in. The General lightly patted me on my shoulder, his good mood reflected in the way he happily ate his food and interacted with us calmly, which made me fight the scowl off my face to not accidentally aggravate him.

Ever since I returned from the banquet, I’d been in my father’s good graces. Somehow word has already travelled to him that I had been around the Bangtan thunder and I returned to a suspiciously pleased father sitting in the drawing room area waiting for me with praises. He’s been more open to me since, now that he had a chance to peacock about my accomplishments again, and it was putting me on edge. I was more used to being on his wrong side, and through the years I learnt that it was safer to skirt the grey area, as he tended to be more infuriated when we disappointed him after we’d “been so good”.

“You’ll come to the castle with me tomorrow,” the man simply stated, in a manner that revealed he was used to being obeyed. It took me a moment of silence to realise he was speaking to me and not my brother, and I looked up surprised, meeting his dark eyes.

“Yes, father,” slipped the automatic answer through my lips, “Why am I needed?” I needed to ride this good wave for as long as it was possible, so I’d also been playing it safe with him and was being more agreeable than usual. If he thought it suspicious, he said nothing about it.

“You will meet the emperor. He’s curious about Bangtan’s new rider.” The older man satisfiedly licked his lips, like a lazy spoiled cat getting cream, while I froze in my seat with a spoon halfway to my lips. Dread like no other gripped me, spreading through my body in cold currents and turning my stomach to lead. I almost felt a little dizzy with the impact of the statement.

“Yes, father,” this time it came out only a shaky whisper, but the man didn’t care, didn’t look my way again, only nodded and left us siblings sitting there.

When I finally managed to tear my gaze away from the spot our father occupied just a moment ago, I looked straight into my brother’s blank eyes. He regarded me wordlessly for a few long seconds and then stood up as well, food left unfinished on his plate.

“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” he muttered and walked away.

I looked after him almost mournfully, but in the end forced myself to get back to my own breakfast. A lump in my throat made it somewhat harder to swallow, but I did my best to push those feelings away and not dwell on how my brother’s dismissal was always a bigger gut punch than our father’s.

I didn’t remember the older man as ever being gentle, but the memories from my childhood, before we were both ruined by the General, plagued me every time I was faced with this new cold version of the once happy boy. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. How far into our hearts did our ruin reach?

When finished, I quickly moved through the house to collect all needed belongings and got on my way to the training grounds. The nervous shake in my hands started up again, and in panic I tried to go over some strategies in my head over how I wanted the noon to go. Chances were it wasn’t going to go according to any of them, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Jungkook was already waiting by the training area, leaning into the wooden pole fencing off the sandy duel ring where one on one sword training usually took place. Coming closer, I had to temp down some evident excitement suddenly coursing through my veins, and I internally scolded myself. Now wasn’t the time to lose it, I had to keep it together.

Just as I was about to shout my greeting, I realised there was actually another person with him. His dark blue hair shined under the sun, and the silvery scales on his beautiful face made the light reflect in a way that almost seemed to be too stunning to be real. By the blush that immediately arrived on my face and made me stutter in the light jog, I knew I was once again in the company of the one and only Jimin.

But out of the corner of my eye I saw another presence.

Jungkook already spotted me and waved me over. There were some awkward greetings and smiles before uncomfortable silence stretched around us. Jimin was watching me with a spark of amused curiosity, but I saw a shadow of something darker in his gaze. Something mistrustful and wary. Which, dragons had every right to be apprehensive at first, but something about him put me on edge, like it was about more than just the usual gap between our kinds.

The third person finally joined us, jogging happily to us with a wide smile stretching across his face. I saw both of the dragons’ faces immediately relax and soften, and I realised it must be another member of their thunder.

With a wildly beating heart and clammy palms I fully took him in, still feeling a little star-struck in the presence of such a powerful pack. His hair was wavy, falling into his eyes and around his ears in artful arches, the sun reflecting powerfully off of the copper reddish colour of the locks. I noticed some beads weaved into them as they bounced with his movement. But the most prominent feature were the beautiful horns sprouting from his hairline – they were curved back slightly, following the shape of his head, and antler-like. They were as long as the top of his head, cutting off above the crown of it. I tried not to gawk at them too obviously, but they were beautiful, so I probably failed miserably. Not that he seemed to mind.

His lithe form was brimming with energy and the man seemed to have a joyous personality, face shining with a smile and eyes full of mirth. I understood immediately why just looking at him set the boys more at ease, even I felt myself getting more comfortable and loose under the rays of his happiness.

“Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook shouted out, nearly vibrating and full of toothy grins. Based on his reaction (to which I didn’t secretly smile at all, I was cold as stone definitely) it was probable that the older dragon decided to drop in unannounced.

“Hello younglins,” the man greeted us with, extending the expression to me as well, which… fair. His smiley face turned to me, eyes scanning me head to toe with a calculating gaze, a sliver of seriousness surfacing through.

“My name is Hoseok. Nice to meet you, potential rider,” he introduced himself in the end. Whatever he saw when looking at me, I nervously hoped it wouldn’t make him get Jungkook to reject the bond.

With anxious eyes flitting around, I bowed to him which he reciprocated and then shook his offered hand, both of ours gloves firmly on. Jungkook and Jimin were both watching us with sharp eyes and bated breath, Jungkook hopeful and Jimin with that strange darkness I couldn’t fully place.

“Nice to meet you too, Sir Hoseok,” my voice wavered slightly, but I hoped they’d disregard it as usual nervousness when people met them, and wouldn’t read too much into it. That they wouldn’t find out just how desperate I was for this to work out.

“No sir here, young mistress, dragons don’t get titles,” he said it teasingly, but a little bitterness still wormed its way into his voice. I swallowed, finally taking my hand back after realising I’d been shaking it for a suspiciously long time and gave him my own wonky smile.

“I will call you Hoseok-ssi then,” I insisted, carefully toeing the line between polite and smarmy, “My name is Kang Y/N, of the northern clan.” I saw clearly how Hoseok tried and failed to keep his face neutral, how his smile froze and his eyebrows pulled together in a frown the moment he realised what family I belonged to. I tried not to let it hurt me. Tried not to panic that this was the end for me, and he’d never allow me near his thunder again.

“Neither of you rascals mentioned she is General Kang’s daughter,” he gritted through his teeth and stiff grin, eyes shooting daggers towards the two younger dragons. Both of them watched him with wide eyes, guilty and innocent all at once, trying to buy themselves some leeway.

I had no idea whether they didn’t mention on purpose or whether they forgot, but I had to quickly get on top of this.

“You know my father, huh?” I chuckled awkwardly, jumping in panicked before anything else could be said, “He does have quite the reputation.”

When Hoseok turned his gaze back to me, it was a lot less warm even though he was still grinning at me. I felt the shiver run through me at the change, my instincts suddenly kicking in now that he looked significantly less friendly.

“I fear there isn’t a single person in this city, maybe even in this empire, who doesn’t know your father,” came his stilted reply. And it made sense really, all of the dragons must have known my father for all his life. They’ve probably had to deal with him ever since he himself entered the Academy some 30 years ago. Yikes.

What does one say in a situation like this? Sorry about that? I would have killed him years ago if I didn’t need him alive still?

Another bout of extremely awkward silence blanketed over us, and with every second stretching I felt the dread pull me deeper and deeper into the mud, mind racing and trying to come up with a way to save this. My chest hurt from how fast my heart beat and I felt the panic licking at the seams of my mind, but in the end the atmosphere was saved by Jungkook himself.

“Don’t be too scared, hyung just has a personal vendetta against him,” the young dragon suddenly blurted out, immediately flushing as Jimin barely covered how he burst out laughing. Hoseok also froze and in wonder I saw some of the coldness melt away into embarrassment, the man rubbing at his neck awkwardly.

“You shouldn’t be saying things like that in front of her,” he whined lightly, and it was both a tease and a warning, but finally I shook myself out of my stupor and laughed as well.

“Don’t worry about it, as his daughter I’m more than used to people having grudges against him,” I said amicably, playing it as cool as I could with my hands shaking and tongue stuttering me up, “as I said – he has quite the reputation.”

Hoseok laughed politely, but his gaze was stuck on Jungkook, promising some kind of a dressing down later when they’re alone, which the young dragon steadily ignored with an easy smile, but in a way that made me queasy. It was foolish of me to forget the weight of tossing my surname around like that.

And I knew that tomorrow I’d meet the emperor and he’d give me his blessing, and then the thunder would have to accept me as Jungkook’s rider whether they wanted to or not. And I wouldn’t blame them for hating me.

“Hyung’s just stopping by,” Jungkook stated to me, turning from the red-head’s burning stare, “He had some of his own errands to run. He works with the infirmary.” It felt both like a weak attempt to ease my nerves and a careful nudge in the direction of the dragon’s abilities, as it was considered rude to ask.

He was a healer then, a nature magick gifted dragon. I took him in once more, ignoring the way he was now more wary of me and concluded that it fit him very well. In those brief few moments he didn’t yet know me he seemed to be the kind of person to heal you just by their presence, and stupidly I felt a pang of sadness at having lost that, no matter how fake of an attempt to be friendly it was.

Instead I turned to the tattooed dragon and smiled, falling down the polite small-talk rabbit hole for a few more sentences before Jimin took a seat at the top of the wooden fence and Hoseok eventually jogged a few steps away to lean against a stone archway of the building nearby to feel the relief of the shadow.

I was stuck in the blaring sun with Jungkook, already feeling the uncomfortable heat and sweat gathering under my black training clothes. It was hard to gauge what was Jungkook’s tolerance, but he seemed fine with a pep in his step and an easy grin on his face. I would almost call him excited.

He led us inside the ring, but no swords were in sight, leaving me to wonder what he had in mind. We stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Jungkook looked increasingly more and more amused, watching me struggle in the silence and unsure of what was in store for me, and admittedly I did want to smack him a little for it, but I swallowed the urge down with a little crooked grin.

Then suddenly the dragon flew into action. My first instinct was to bring my arms up in defence, expecting him to try and land a blow. Meetings like these usually consisted of some more fighting and duels to allow the dragons to check the strength and abilities of their potential bondeds, but Jungkook didn’t do any of that sort. He started warming up with jumping jacks.

A little confused, I caught onto the agenda and started imitating him, casting unsure glances towards the two packmates that were watching us jump in the middle of a sandy ring, but their expressions gave me nothing. The pack probably must have gone through this specific thing millions of times and have since settled into a routine.

“Do you know what my magick is?” he asked suddenly, mischief dripping off of him like this was a cheeky first date and not a military affair. I shook my head, but as the silence stretched and his eyes watched me expectantly, he was clearly waiting for some sort of verbal explanation.

“I only knew of Jimin-ssi’s powers,” even through clearing my throat my voice still came out scratchy and unsure, gaze nervously flitting to the mentioned dragon to catch whether he was upset or not. Jimin still gave me nothing, silvery blue eyes just as stormy and closed off as before.

I reasoned with myself that he was less flirty and playful because this was a serious matter, but he still unnerved me, and I faced similar looking rejection way too many times to not immediately recognise the beginning stages of it. He displayed mistrust beyond the usual reasons, and I had no idea why.

“I-I know you have a fire dragon in your thunder. And an atmokinetic,” the stutter came from me scrambling to keep up with Jungkook when he dropped to the ground and seamlessly transitioned into a squatting without any warning, but it was no less embarrassing. He hummed. Jimin and Hoseok looked on. I sweated. It was a mess.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly public knowledge what most of their powers were. Since the curse was first laid, dragons have learnt to be quite secretive when it came to the full extent of their special abilities and tended to choke the information so that only what they wanted was known. As such, I was only sure of three of their abilities – Namjoon’s fiery magick that often came into the public eye during battles, Jimin’s water magick that he was known for due to the worrying line of admirals who liked to bond him temporarily to gain upper hand in naval skirmishes and Yoongi’s darker and scarier powers that allowed him to bring rains and storms and pull black clouds and strong winds to us that made all our days just the more wearier.

There were rumours of course – whispers about a dangerous dragon capable of mind control and manipulation, or tales about one who shone as bright as a dying star, as the sun itself, who commanded light in a way that both warmed and hurt. But those were just that, rumours. I had no names to those, and the thunder certainly wasn’t forthcoming with anything, just as the emperor liked to control what we knew about them.

Bangtan was powerful and mysterious and that was it. That’s where it started and ended.

Jimin’s sudden chuckle brought me back to a pouting Jungkook doing squats like his life depended on it while I did my best to keep up.

“Nobody knows what our baby does yet,” he teased him, “Don’t worry Kook, you’ll put the seed of terror into all their hearts by the end of this year.” It was the kind of mocking that wasn’t meant to hurt and flew between people who actually liked each other and knew the limits of other’s senses of humour, and I curiously watched as Jungkook played up the pout even more before bursting into a toothy grin.

Then it caught up to me what the blue-haired dragon said and I stopped dead in my tracks, shocking Jungkook into freezing too. There was a suspicion at my heart that would explain everything that was happening right now, and I didn’t hesitate to speak it into the universe.

“Wait… is this your first year participating in the unit?” I blurted out and saw Hoseok tense up out of the corner of my eye. Jungkook spiritedly nodded and I felt both relief and horror.

“Kookie’s never had a rider,” Jimin supplied, really speaking to me for the first time since I arrived, “He’s only reached adulthood sixty years ago.”

A myriad of questions suddenly had answers in my mind – Jungkook fumbling the polite traditions at the banquet, the overprotective hovering that Jimin and Hoseok were exhibiting right now, the combative energy both of them lowkey exuded while Jungkook himself was a ball of excitement. Stepping into the unknown, for the first time.

At the bottom of it all was a huge boulder falling off of my chest at the thought that I wasn’t completely alone in this frightening and exhilarating new experience we had in front of us. Now, looking at us both be clueless and anxious and eager, I found myself relaxing considerably. We could be stupid about this together, and that was a relieving thought.

Jungkook was staring daggers into his hyung and whining that he was more adult than he made it sound, but his ears were red. Hoseok in the background fondly watched on, and suddenly I felt like too much of an intruder.

Clearing my throat, I called for his attention again and asked: “So what is your power?”

Jungkook’s big dark innocent eyes were back at me and he straightened up, only to start doing lunges. I scrambled to follow his lead, warming up with him with no idea what he was planning to do today.

I wondered whether he had any other potentials, but thinking back I haven’t seen him interact with any other of the first years. I hoped that whatever trials he prepared for me, I’d be able to successfully get through them.

“My magick is elemental,” the tatted dragon started explaining, “much like Jimin-hyung’s. But mine is earth.” I itched to ask more questions and get more details out of him, but I didn’t want to overstep. Jungkook may have looked like he’d gladly answer everything, but generally dragons didn’t like it and didn’t think it proper to probe, and I didn’t want to aggravate the two high strung hyungs stepping around the training grounds and watching their younger packmate with hawk eyes.

I watched them out of the corner of my eyes, and their warning gazes were already glued to me, but Jungkook looked at me with expectant eyes just begging to be asked for more details. Sweating bullets, I swallowed my silent tears and opened my dumb mouth. This is going to be more challenging than I thought, but in a way I could have never anticipated.

“How does that work?” I gritted through my teeth, trying to ignore Hoseok’s narrowed eyes or Jimin’s outright stare. Jungkook, though, brightened and changed back to jumping jacks for ease of talking.

“Much like hyung manipulates water, I can manipulate earth,” he begun cheerily, “tear it apart, tear chunks out and throw them, cause a chasm to open or small-scale earthquakes. I can also work with and manipulate stones and ore, not just dirt.” I gave him a wide-eyed stare, surprised to learn the extent of his powers, though some things were still a little vague. But I didn’t dare to ask more questions, I’ve already tried their patience too much.

“It also means he has tough skin. Impenetrable. And it makes him very strong, like a boulder,” to my surprise it was Jimin who volunteered this information, his curious eyes flittering cautiously between me, Jungkook and Hoseok still standing a few steps away.

“There’s a downside though,” Jungkook continued, “every power has its downside. Like a weakness. It’s tied into the nature of our magick. Like fire magick’s weakness would be water and ice.” The horror that seeped into Hoseok’s face quickly clued me into the fact that Jungkook just shared something he wasn’t supposed to say.

“Yes, but that isn’t something we need to talk about right now,” Jimin jumped in, shaken and panicked, throwing the youngest dragon a stare that could only be interpreted as a warning. Unsure, I stopped and glanced between the three dragons locked into some sort of a silent battle. After a few beats I realised they must have been talking telepathically, as that was something mated dragons could do.

“She’ll have to know anyway, as my bonded,” Jungkook said finally, firmly looking from his hyungs and offering me a smile. Shakily, I attempted to returned it, but it was hard with the burning I felt from the other’s stares. I couldn’t even fully process the fact that Jungkook basically announced that we would bond, the statement barely registering in my anxious mind.

What in the hell was going on?

Then Jungkook took off, only looking behind to beckon me as he started on a lap around the training grounds. Giving one last nervous glance to the two tense dragons, I took a deep breath and ran off after him.

Jungkook was fast and it took me a moment to catch up to him, but after a lap or two we settled into a comfortable pace side by side, and I slowly came to realise what this was. Endurance test. He wanted to know how strong and trained I was. With one less unknown to worry about, I fell into step with him and steeled myself to keep up for as long as I was capable of.

The silence was comfortable between us, a nice change from the charged atmosphere around the older dragons, but I couldn’t blame them for being so cautious, especially since it seemed Jungkook’s enthusiasm was sometimes faster than the well-earned distrust towards humans that every dragon harboured deep inside their heart. I dreaded to think of someone else in my position, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of his true earnest nature.

But even I was a risk – even I could misstep, hurt him. Even I could end up being a danger to him and his thunder. I had to make sure I wouldn’t.

“Have you ever met a dragon before?” Jungkook’s quiet voice pulled me out of my troubling thoughts. It was an unusual question, one that I had no idea how to interpret the intentions behind. What was he really asking?

“Well, yes... I’ve been coming to the capital with father for quite some time,” I drawled out, weighing in my mind on how much to share, “but I really just saw them around. Didn’t really speak to anyone, I wasn’t allowed to.” Painful memories of a smiling brown-haired man resurfaced in my mind, just how they so often did ever since he left. I chanced a look at the tatted dragon, and he watched me like he knew there was more. He waited whether I would continue. A wave of strange unfamiliar emotion rose inside of me, and I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand. I was so confused. But then I spoke anyway because it felt right to do so.

“When I was little,” the words slowly trickled out of me, like I had to use force to push them out, “maybe eight or nine, a dragon-knight and his bonded came to our fief. They stayed with us for a little over a year. The knight was a merry man, full of laughs and jokes, and his dragon was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” The young dragon smiled gently and gestured for me to keep talking as we ran laps. I started becoming a little breathless now that I had a story to tell, but I pushed through.

“I spent a lot of time with him, to me he was the manifestation of all things magical and fantastical,” the soft laugh that tumbled out of me surprised me, but I carried on, “He took to teaching me. Brought me out to forests and meadows, taught me about magick and nature, about dragons, about kindness to living things and cooperating with the natural world. He always called it ‘the old philosophy’. That this is how dragons used to teach their young.”

Looking back at it now with the knowledge I have, it wasn’t that hard to understand why he was such a thorn in the emperor’s eye. Why he was running away from the palace, trying his luck away from the capital. It was rotten fate that he ended up on a land that belonged to my father out of all people.

Next to me Jungkook hummed, reminding me of his presence, and suddenly the exercise caught up with me and I realised I would need a break soon to catch my breath. The young dragon seemed fine though, as he jogged on by my side with a soft smile.

“What was his name?” he asked, with reverence I haven’t heard from him yet, the quiet wonder at this mythical teacher from my childhood visible in his eyes, and it warmed me to see it. With a smile of my own I answered: “Hwan.” As simple as that.

I didn’t tell him his real name. I couldn’t yet. My teacher was a controversial character, a forbidden topic, and these dragons were most definitely aware of him, as his sudden disappearance happened only something over a decade ago. He was the first dragon in centuries to openly go against the throne, and the first person I’ve ever met that was part of a resistance against the empire. Hwan was the name he went by while he stayed with us, when he pretended to be human while going to the town’s market with me.

I’ve already learned from my mistake once. I wouldn’t reveal his name until I was sure it was safe.

“I don’t remember a dragon with that name,” Jungkook thought out loud, contemplative expression taking over his youthful face, “do you know what his magick is?”

“I’m not sure where he is currently,” was all I answered with, shutting down the conversation with firm gentleness. Thankfully the man understood. He gave me one long curious silent look, eyes taking me in from head down to my toes, something a little unreadable settling into them. But an air of softness remained, one that made me comfortable in his presence against all facts and reason.

“Let’s go try horse riding now,” was all he finally said, a little more mischief bleeding into his features, “last time you barely even rode. I need to know you can keep yourself in the saddle.”

With a nod I followed after him, silently musing on whether the bond manifested in things deeper than just compatibility for magick. Things that would explain why the pull towards the younger dragon exceeded reason and strayed into the territory of complicated feelings of comfort and safety.

Jimin shuffled nervously right next to his hyung, shuddering under the barrage of negative emotions flowing into him from Hoseok’s side of the bond.

“You shouldn’t encourage him so much, you know,” Hoseok chided him softly, even though the water dragon felt the weight of his hyungs fears and anxieties. But he didn’t think he was deserving of a scolding nevertheless.

“What do you mean? I barely even did anything,” Jimin grumbled under his breath, eyes trained on the duo running side by side by the fence, one ear listening into the conversation and heart enquiringly checking on Jungkook’s emotions. Hope, curiousness, tender joy. All that shined through, and he knew that his hyung felt it too. And didn’t like it one bit. “He spilled everything all on his own,” Jimin added for good measure.

He subconsciously rubbed at the tender skin of his wrist, mind going back to the night of the banquet, as it so often did these days. He couldn’t shake off the buzz of the bond as it shocked through him with such intensity for a moment he thought she touched him and not Kookie. Sometimes, it would still run through his nervous system like a phantom pain, even days later.

“Kookie’s excited about his first bond,” Hoseok said, but his voice carried no happiness that would be normally present during such occasions, that was all taken away by the circumstance of the situation, “but this whole thing is rubbing me the wrong way. I just don’t want him to get hurt through this. Bonds have a way of influencing you, and especially the first ones can feel quite intense. I don’t want him to be blinded by it to what might be happening here.”

Jimin looked to his hyung with alarm, heart painfully contracting under the wave of freezing cold dread seeping through his bones.

“You think there’s an ulterior motive to the bond,” the younger dragon meant it as a question, but at that point it was useless to ask. Hoseok obviously thought something else was going on under all this, and the possibility of it lit some sort of primal fear in Jimin. Bonds used to be a sacred thing, thinking that they could be stripped from all their beauty and used so villainously, it never failed to tear him apart. Never failed to remind him of all that was taken from them.

“Think about it,” Hoseok stated seriously, eyes similarly glued to Jungkook and watching his smiling face with a hint of despair, “We’ve never felt a bond similar to this one. Neither the hyungs nor Joonie have ever heard of something similar. She’s a daughter of a man as close to the throne as one can be. Is it really such a stretch to believe that he may have tampered with the bond?”

“But would that even be possible?” Jimin asked, voice quiet as the horrifying feasibility sunk into his mind, “It can’t, right?” That would change everything. It would take away more than they’ve already lost – it would warp the very nature of their souls. Haven’t they already destroyed enough? Would they go as far as to mess with natural magical bonds?

“He’s already done so much and he continues to want even more,” Hoseok argued firmly, no traces of the smiling man left in his demeanour, “I have no idea what Kangdae’s end goal is, but if there’s someone capable of this, it’s him. And she’s in his closest circle, her father serves him more than he serves his own family.” No matter how many times Jimin heard the emperor’s name flow out so effortlessly in conversation, he still got an uncomfortable feeling. His hyungs using it like that didn’t feel right – it made him too scared for them, like they were committing a grave sin. Yet they never budged.

Looking back to the young duo, a chilling sensation gripped Jimin’s insides. Could this be a trap? What would even be the purpose of manipulating a bond like that? Was she originally not meant for them?

“I worry for him too,” Jimin muttered finally, “We’ll have to keep an eye on him.” The things they needed to keep close eyes on just kept stacking up and Jimin was about to lose his mind if this continued. The threat hanging over all their heads somehow felt more present than ever. Not even the thought of his all-knowing hyungs made him feel better. Quite the opposite – feeling their quiet dismay, their wide eyes and hushed whispers when they thought they wouldn’t notice, it drove Jimin even more wild with panic.

“I wish we could consult the ancients on this,” the blue-haired dragon whispered quiet enough that had his companion not paid attention, he’d miss it, “the closest we got to that is Jin-hyung and he’s as lost as we are.” Hoseok’s tiny fond chuckle lifted some weight off of Jimin’s shoulders, the younger dragon turning to his hyung with a smile.

“Don’t let him hear that or we’ll never hear the end of it,” the healer teased softly, reaching out to mess with Jimin’s hair. Silence settled around them, but it was oppressive in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, not around his mates. He shivered with it, tried to withstand it, but couldn’t without the warmth his lovers offered.

Reaching out for his hyung’s hand, they shuffled around until Hoseok was protectively holding him curled into his side as they both watched on, hearts heavy and minds racing a mile in a minute.

Jimin noted to himself all that she shared, vowing to ask Jin-hyung later about that dragon she spoke so highly of. He hoped, and Jungkook might never believe him this, but he really hoped she wasn’t deceiving them. Not because of her, but for Jungkook’s sake. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if this ended up hurting their youngest packmate.

Bonds cut deep, especially when they ended badly. Yoongi-hyung still carried those scars in him to prove that. He himself knew the pain of bonds that were forced on him – how oppressive they were to his own mind and heart, how every time he was used for a battle and then discarded, his soul wept for the loss of a bond that never really existed in the first place.

For all their might and power, dragons were tender beings. Easily swayed by shiny trinkets and a little kindness, they got attached so readily, and felt grief deeply when everything died in the end and they carried on.

Whether she betrayed him or died, that wound would stay with Jungkook for the rest of his nigh eternal life, and he so desperately wished he could protect him from that.

Jimin, in that moment of all-consuming terrifying despair and helplessness, knew he would give everything, even his own life, to ensure the crash and fall of the empire just to tear Jungkook out of the way of a sure tragedy in the form of his new potential rider.

“Has Taehyungie had any vision about this?” Hoseok’s voice suddenly cut through his spiralling thoughts, pulling Jimin from his little circle of doom, “Last I asked him he said he can’t see anything.” The blue-haired man thought back to the day before, to his younger mate with his dark red, heavy curls falling into his eyes, the worried frustrated expression on his face translating into the wobbling lip when he came to Jimin absolutely shattered that he can’t help his hyungs in any way, the fear dripping so thick off of him the water dragon almost tasted it in the air. Tae was devastated at his own inability to induce a vision on the young knightess, even though he privately shared with Jimin that it didn’t feel completely wrong, only that he wasn’t supposed to know yet (which according to him happened sometimes, but it still felt awful). Nonetheless it only added to the unsureness that hung about them when it came to this bond.

“No, he’s trying really hard but can’t see anything,” Jimin whispered towards his hyung, even though he was pretty sure Jungkook wasn’t listening he’d still rather he didn’t hear this on accident, “Please don’t ask him about it, hyung. He’s feeling terrible.”

Hoseok gave him a sad smile and nodded, his hands tightening on the younger worried man as he himself sunk into the troubling thoughts. Jimin hated the sudden air of uncertainty hanging over their heads that irritatingly everyone except for their youngest seemed to feel.

Jungkook kept his oblivious care-free aura while everyone around him panicked about the future of the pack, even future of dragons at all. His hyungs were running themselves thin trying to find out what this meant while he sat around the town house and talked about how he couldn’t wait for the bonding ritual.

Jimin was as angry with him as he was worried for him. But only time would tell which way this would go. And deep in his heart he knew that even if the world was falling apart, his hyungs would never let them get hurt.

Squeezing Hobi’s hand back, he finally allowed himself to relax into the warm man’s embrace.

Maybe somewhere in this country still were children who felt comforted and encouraged by their father’s presence by their side, but I certainly wasn’t one of them. The stifling aura of him hovering behind me put me on edge, the threat of ‘impress him or else’ hanging in the air over us. Father would never say it outright, no, that wasn’t his style. But it was always written into him, into his features, into the firm grip of his hand on my arm when he wanted me to check myself.

Brother stood next to him looking bored, doing his best to miss all of my pointed stares, so I redirected my attention back to the gold-plated doors in front of me, waiting for them to open and invite us in.

The emperor sometimes liked to keep people waiting. If it was just my father, he’d be let in immediately, but since it was our entire family he felt the need to show power and let us stand outside for a while. I felt the mounting wave of frustration and annoyance, pursing my lips together to keep myself in line. None of us spoke and it made the time tick by even slower. Two stripes guards flanked the door on each side and nervously evaded our eyes, no doubt wishing they were anywhere else than in front of the increasingly more displeased old general.

Then finally, after what felt like a whole hour, the door slowly creaked open and I suddenly found myself on the forefront of our little group, first to be seen, first to move and first to speak. It was unnerving.

It took a little shove to my lower back (I wasn’t sure which one of the men it was, but it was effective) to make me move into the room, and I did so sluggishly – focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not on the man sitting leisurely on a sofa at the centre of the room. Subconsciously I straightened and adjusted my black and silver uniform, even though he didn’t look up. He actually looked like he couldn’t care less and for a moment I pondered over how my father managed decades of sucking up to a person like that. My patience would have run out so fast I’d be executed before my pillow even had the chance to permanently dent into the shape of my head.

Even though I knew the emperor was a few years older than my brother, he looked young, maybe even younger than me. He didn’t stand, and he didn’t have to, but we still kneeled on the little carpet and bowed to his uninterested form. It was humiliating and rage inducing, my hands curling into tight fists as if I was contemplating lunging at him and punching him. I wasn’t, I just wanted to go home mainly.

The emperor asked us to meet us in one of his salons that he sometimes used for official visits, so instead of the throne room we found ourselves in a pompously decorated room with a theme that I could only describe as “rubies”. The man himself sat on a sofa that was on a little platform, step above everyone else, and he stood out as a sore thumb with his golden aura in the sea of reds and crimsons.

I twitched towards one of the sofas, but a hand on my wrist immediately pulled me back into place, and so we just silently stood there some more, waiting for some command or a simple acknowledgement, but the golden man kept wordlessly scribbling something onto a stack of documents. After the fourth line I felt the frustration return with full force (and then some more), gritting my teeth as we humiliatingly waited with heads hung low in respect.

Then the sound stopped. The man clapped twice and everything set into motion. I was pulled by my father to a sofa, and I confusedly let myself be manhandled into place while I watched the flurry of servants run in with tea and sweets and carry the stack of documents out. A second later the emperor’s eyes were on me, for what felt like first time in my life.

For some reason I was surprised by his beauty. I didn’t know why, I’ve seen him before but always from much further away. I had a better idea of what his father looked like, and at the end of his life he turned into a bitter mean old man, therefore the youthful charm took the wind out of my sails lightly.

He was bathed in gold, from head to toe – from his attire and jewels to his skin, to his burning bright hair. Even his eyes had specks of gold swimming in the brown. But the longer I looked at him, the more I saw the signs of his cruelty, things that no amount of grace and allure could hide – his stare had no warmth in it despite his polite smile, instead it froze me down with its poorly hidden brutality; his sharp features didn’t as much add to his handsomeness as they brought out the shadows on his face, underlining the haunting savagery of his faux kind smile. When his lips stretched to reveal his white perfect teeth, I was almost expecting to see them pointy and sharp enough to tear flesh to shreds.

“Yeong-su, Man-young,” he greeted with a nod first my father, then my brother, before his eyes redirected to me, “and you must be Y/N then.” His voice was strong and firm, with a tone of courteousness so false it felt sleazy. I shuddered, barely managed to hide it from his inquisitive eyes and then shakily smiled back with my own nod.

“Your majesty,” father greeted, just as slimy and with a similar looking smile. I supressed the disgust crawling up the sides of my stomach and kept to myself. This might have been the first and only time I was happy about the general insisting I don’t speak so I don’t embarrass him.

“I hope your morning has gone well, our empire,” he continued, head bowed so deep his chin was digging into his breastbone, “we, your people, are joyous for the opportunity to meet with you.” Seeing Man-young going into a slight bow again, I scrambled to follow, not giving myself the space to inspect that pile of insincere grovelling bullshit.

“Thank you, general,” came a simple answer, “I hear you are here for the purpose of your daughter’s bonding. Your eyes are on Bangtan, general?” It felt both inquisitive and threatening, like a thinly-veiled warning. I curiously watched my father, the proud man that he was who would rather die than let anyone disrespect him, as he ducked his head in pretend humility. I’d never realised that he was such a damned good actor.

“Of course not, our empire, we wouldn’t dare to demand your dragons, we can simply hope and beg for your blessing.” That seemed to have satisfied the young sovereign, and I had to wonder whether he was genuinely stupid enough to believe it or whether he didn’t care because he knew his place of power and trusted in his invincibility. Surely, everyone could tell these were all fake sentiments, even the man that’s been listening to them since his birth?

A nudge broke me out of my reverie and I realised my father wanted me to grovel alongside with him, but before I could think of anything to say, a knock to the door interrupted us.

“Oh, perfect timing,” emperor exclaimed, for the first time with a real sense of excitement which put me off slightly, and then he was gesturing for the door to open. And the most curious group of people stood behind it.

The first to stroll leisurely into the room was Duke Lee, and I barely suppressed the obvious disgust on my face. He only shot me a single unfriendly glare before his expression melted into a similar smarminess of all the council members in the presence of the emperor. I tuned out his dick-sucking-esque monologue that the ruler seemed to eat up to take in the other three newcomers. Well, except that they weren’t truly new to me.

The silver-haired dragon I’ve seen a mere week ago when my father dragged me to the council meeting still had his signature cold expressionless mask on and he silently made his way through the room without acknowledging anyone to sit on a chair by the emperor’s sofa.

The other two were a surprise to me.

Jungkook wearing a uniform I’d never seen before (and that he seemed exceedingly uncomfortable in) and constantly squirming in place tried to greet me, but was promptly stopped by his companion. A dragon I knew very well despite the fact that I haven’t officially met him before. He was only slightly taller than Jungkook, but his muscular and wide form made him seem towering, alongside the power and authority that was pouring off of him in waves that attempted to drown me. His golden fiery eyes were fond yet firm on Jungkook’s squirming form, before they turned into the room and became as cold and hard as stone. I had to fight back the urge to kneel and bow to him just like we did to the emperor.

I was face to face with Namjoon, the head of Bangtan thunder, a fire dragon and one of the most easily recognisable faces of the dragonkind staying in or around the castle.

The second our eyes met I shot to my feet and bowed full 90 degrees to him, shocking the room into silence as everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to me. When I straightened back up, Namjoon was giving me a strange look, but said nothing. He only pulled Jungkook with him to a sofa opposite of us and they made themselves comfortable.

“You’ve served me well since my coronation, general,” the emperor started again, “and my father for long years before that. You know it would be a pleasure to have my dragons in your family’s care.” Now it was my father who stood up and bowed fully, dragging me with him to extend the same courtesy, which I did with significantly more difficulty than when I bowed to Namjoon.

Duke Lee found his place on the same sofa as the two dragons, watching the exchange with fiery eyes, lips turned to a thin line. I didn’t even know what he was doing here, and his salty aura was really ruining the morning for me even further, so I did my best to ignore his very existence.

“Jungkook is your bonded, then?” this question was aimed at me, but the king was already eyeing the two Bangtan dragons sitting uncomfortably next to the slimy duke. They knew better than to speak and only inclined their heads, though I could see Namjoon fighting off words.

“Not yet, your majesty, though I hope for his acceptance,” I chose my words carefully, once again trying to dangerously toe the line of politeness and smarminess, desperately trying to please both sides and escape suspicion, but by the unhappy twitch of emperor’s lips and the cold expression on Namjoon’s face, I was failing at both.

“You have my approval, that’s more than law,” the gold-clad man stated firmly, voice void of the falseness it held before, “Do you want him to be yours?” This was the real man on the throne. Only now we truly had the pleasure of meeting him.

Now, that was the question, wasn’t it? Everything and more on the line with a single word – yes, of course I wanted to bond Jungkook. Did his thunder wish for the same? Would they ever forgive me for not giving them a choice? Those both had the same answer, one whose outcome I had to risk either way, and I hated it. Not more than them, though.

“Yes, your majesty,” I settled for, not wanting to drag it out. It was safer to stick to short answers and the man himself wasn’t interested in anything more. Namjoon sat in his place, frozen – not with shock, I don’t think at that point he had it in him to be surprised at this anymore. It felt more like resignation. Jungkook still looked the same, looked at me the same, but the heaviness in his shoulders spoke of his mate’s emotional turmoil.

“Very well,” were the next emperor’s words and with that it was decided. I sat back down and kept my head hung low. I was too guilt-ridden to look at the dragons anymore, the humiliation swirled in my stomach and made me sick, and all I wanted was to just have this all behind me. Once bonded, it would get easier – and then a whole lot more difficult.

“Duke, how is the rest of the unit?”

Well, that had my attention, but I pretended not to watch the exchange, keeping my gaze at the table and the variety of colourful chocolate sweets that still sat untouched on the beautiful decorative plate. I just saw Namjoon’s tense form and Jungkook’s squirming legs while he found it hard to settle down into the furnishing. The straight posture of my brother to my side told me he was also diligently keeping up, though I couldn’t understand why this would fall under the umbrella of his interests. My brother was a shadow, he had nothing to do with the horns.

But the most curious was that Lee seemed to be involved to this extent.

“Excellent, our empire, from what I’ve heard three others have already found their dragons as well,” the duke’s irksome voice replied, and I was minutely reminded of baron Kim and his overt friendliness, “Only two remain undecided.”

When did he become the spokesperson of Qinglong? As far as I was aware, he had nothing to do with the unit. I haven’t even really seen him around the dragon-knights, so how come he was suddenly being summoned like this to speak of the unit and the new arrivals? How has he managed to weasel his way in here, when just a few months back he was mostly whining about mining and gems?

“Splendid. I want the bonding ceremony to happen in three days,” the sovereign demanded, in the manner that he was used to – speaking it into existence, “It will be the full moon. Make sure the others are ready as well.” There was some more small-talk, mostly the duke bending over backwards to agree and promise he will make it happen, while the rest of us watched him with varying stages of appalment.

“Oh, that’s right duke, I’ve heard your son showed a brilliant performance with a sword,” it was a statement uttered thoughtlessly as part of the polite conversation, but just as the information sunk into my brain and I froze, I saw Jungkook do the same. Almost on instinct we looked to each other, similar sense of horror looming over us both, and I saw Namjoon’s eyes flit between us in alarm out of the corner of my eye.

The bad premonition got confirmed when the duke suddenly straightened in joy, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging wildly behind him at that moment, and he started prattling off about his son championing the banquet.

Peacock. His son was Peacock.

Well, that didn’t complicate anything at all! I should have fucking known the moment I looked at that bastard, this particular brand of being an awful person truly did run in the family. And it explained the duke being all salty and mad about me interacting with Bangtan. With him weaselling into the emperor’s graces and into the higher layers of the dragon unit, he most probably aimed for his son to be the one to snatch Jungkook or Jimin. I wondered whether his son was one of the two who still didn’t find their dragons or whether they managed to find someone pleasing enough. I thought back to the poor dragon with fire red hair and hoped that he wasn’t a potential connection to that ass.

It also explained the sudden change of the banquet activities and the fact that Peacock knew of the details before anyone else did. It wasn’t because Lord Kim was sucking up to his father, it was because Duke Lee somehow found a way to involve himself with the unit.

Oh, father would not be happy about that…

“Your majesty,” Namjoon’s deep rumbling voice cut through the duke’s uninteresting chatter, and immediately commanded the attention of the whole room, “If you don’t mind the suggestion, I had hoped that young mistress Kang would be first introduced to the thunder before we make the decision to bond with her. Three days is quite fast.” Clearly the date bothered him quite a lot, and I felt a pang in my heart at the closed off unhappy expression on his face when he spoke of me.

But before the emperor could answer him, and by the look on his face he wasn’t very happy with the dragon, Jungkook hurriedly interjected. “I have already made the decision to bond with Y/N-ssi,” tumbled out of his mouth in a rush and surprised both me and Namjoon. I felt a light blush rise to my cheeks and this time my heart hurt from the timid joy at such an earnest confession, while Namjoon watched his youngest mate with hard warning eyes.

To everybody else in the room though it felt like a hasty attempt to smooth out the fire dragon’s uncompromising words, including the visibly displeased sovereign sitting above us like a ruler of the universe.

“The decision has been made, dragon,” the golden man spit out, a beastly sneer sneaking onto his face when he looked over the hundreds of years old magical being that he thought was beneath him, “You have two days to introduce her to the thunder.”

I was getting ready to intercept and try to save the situation a little, syphon away a little bit of that anger the man clearly felt at not being listened to unconditionally, and as much as that made me dislike him even more, I did have to suck up to him in situations like these. But then he scoffed and continued.

“Or better yet, do it today. That’s an order.” All the peace-making words died in my throat, and I nervously glanced towards the fire dragon, who was discreetly trying to hide the daggers in his eyes. He said nothing and nodded, holding Jungkook’s wrist. The younger dragon looked towards me with troubled eyes, and that was that. Stellar.

My irritation towards the emperor steadily rose, as he seemed to be adamant on making this as hard for me as possible, so I just quietly gulped everything down and sat patiently and politely by my father’s side.

The rest of the meeting flew by and I barely even paid attention, too busy trying to think through the buzz of nerves how to ease the tension, but ultimately deciding that I had to ride this one out, see and think quick on my feet based on their reactions. Namjoon, similar to Hoseok yesterday, had that air of gentleness when he looked to Jungkook, and while that all disappeared the moment his eyes weren’t on his mate, I still hoped he wouldn’t be unmovable. I’d learn what I’d have to do to earn his trust, all in good time.

In the meantime I let myself be comforted by the fact that Jungkook seemed to be fully in acceptance of this bond. I wondered whether he was able to feel anything from me. Maybe my genuinity shined through the connection, maybe deep down he felt he could trust me. I desperately didn’t want to let him down.

When the emperor finally sent us on our way, my family didn’t even waste time talking to me. With a curt nod both the men stepped through the door and set out towards the Academy, only my father pausing shortly to send me a distinctive warning look that screamed ‘don’t fuck this for us’ before he walked off.

Jungkook was cautiously smiling my way, but Namjoon next to him stood tensely, unreadable gaze glued to my father’s back. I hoped that there wasn’t much bad blood between them, but given my father’s personality you simply couldn’t spend the last 35 years in the same circles without inevitably ending up hating him, so that was probably a foolish wish.

When the golden gaze shifted to me it felt like a whole mountain was suddenly sitting on my shoulders, the weight and depth of his eyes pressing me into the ground. He was a respectable man, taking his place of standing between his thunder and the emperor very seriously, and it reflected all in his straight back and dark eyes. To me it was the first time I found myself firmly in the centre of his attention, and I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of that stare that felt like it was burning through me straight to the deepest most hidden and vulnerable places in my soul.

He wasn’t happy with me. He didn’t like me accepting on behalf of Jungkook. I could read it all there, and I felt deeply ashamed.

The silence stretching was weighing down heavily on me, I couldn’t help myself but shake in the tense atmosphere. Even Jungkook only quietly watched his thunder leader, not daring to speak out while Namjoon’s calculating gaze took me in.

Finally buckling under that stare I hesitantly bent at the waist, bowing to the man in the same manner I did to all the other dragons from this thunder I met, but inside I was second-guessing everything.

“Authority, it is an honour to meet you,” it was a miracle I didn’t stumble all over my words and stutter, that was the effect the dragon had on people around him. I saw the surprise written over his face at the title used, Jungkook smiling proudly next to him and trying to catch his eye in a ‘look at me, I was right!!’ way.

The term ‘authority’ was an old title (well, now it was an old title, just a few hundred years back it was completely normal) used for leaders of thunders. It was the correct way of addressing the dragons in positions of power among their peers, and while it was a little heavy-handed in the human language, it was a direct translation from draconic. It didn’t need to make perfect sense in the context of our speak. And it wasn’t really used here anymore.

I would bet that most didn’t even know a term like this existed – and I wouldn’t have known either if it wasn’t for Hwan who taught me a little about dragon history and hierarchy.

“No need to address me as such, I hardly am an authority anymore,” the man grumbled, but his energy was a lot less hostile. Now he just seemed resigned, which also wasn’t good. I didn’t want to argue with him, so I just decided to let it go.

“Namjoon-ssi, if today isn’t suitable for you, I can come a different day,” I offered him, head still humbly lowered, “Or I can come for dinner.” The man just waved his hand around like dismissing an annoying fly and set out, Jungkook scrambling to follow after him.

“There’s no reason to. Just come,” he said simply over his shoulder, not really looking back to see whether I went after or not. With a deep sigh I willed my feet to run after them, resigning myself to a cluster-fuck of an afternoon.

Their town house was on the other side of the castle, hidden in the shadow of the big black rock the structure sat on – maybe somewhat poetically. All in all it looked very similar to ours, which was slightly worrying given the fact that our household hosted only three people, while this thunder had seven. Though mated dragons would most probably have less need for individual bedrooms, but also there was absolutely no space for them to turn forms.

Which, unfortunately, was a thing that dragons rarely got to do unless humans commanded them to. Even though they needed to regularly spend time in both forms, people often got antsy around the massive beasts and didn’t like to see it. So dragons mostly turned only if they needed to fly or they left the city and spent a few hours out in the woods.

I took the dwelling in – it seemed quite ordinary and it was obvious on first glance that it wasn’t a place they considered home. The most beautiful and cared for part of the house was the little garden in the inner courtyard, which I supposed was Hoseok’s work.

The house was quiet as we stepped through the main gate, it seemed completely empty and for a moment I wondered whether I’d have to spent hours sitting here only with Jungkook and Namjoon, because I wasn’t so sure I was quite ready for that.

But it was an unnecessary fear as I came to realise when we stepped inside, heading towards the dining room – the thunder was already sitting ready around a traditional table with pillows strewn around and a warm feast waiting for us to dig in. Three pillows were empty – two at the opposite ends of the table and one to the right side of the closer empty one.

Both dragons left me standing unsure in the doorway into the room, heading straight for the table – Namjoon sat down at the head of the table, next to a broad-shouldered pink-haired man with massive wings spanning from his back and a very unfriendly looking man with long black hair and black horns curling around the crown of his head. That one I recognised – it was very hard to forget Yoongi once you’d seen him once. Especially when you’ve found yourself at the receiving end of that stare. Which I had before. It was not pleasant.

For the second time that day I found myself bowing respectfully, though now to considerably bigger number of dragons.

“Thank you for having me,” it was hard to say in a volume louder than a whisper – it felt like it should be whispered. It was useless politeness, given the fact that they were ordered to have me for lunch, but it was better than not saying anything.

Jungkook, who took the empty seat by the end of the table patted the pillow next to him and I slowly walked over to take it, folding myself down. No one spoke. When I chanced looking up, I found that their gazes seemed quite neutral and they were just taking me in. Well, except for Yoongi, who never gave much thought to pointless politeness – and strangely enough Hoseok, whose eyes had something unreadable but definitely not good in them.

This seat put me directly opposite of Namjoon, and much like before in the hall he left the silence stretch until I had time to spiral all the way down thinking I had already managed to fuck up a first meeting given the fact the cheerful nature dragon was looking at me like he’d need to protect his den from my murderous rage by the end of this meal.

“Let me properly introduce myself,” I started in the end, though at that point it already felt a little too late, but the quiet had a way of messing with my head. I had spent too many hours under my father’s wordless disappointment to keep my cool under such heavy gazes. “I am Kang Y/N of the northern clan.” Nothing more was needed to say.

Everybody already seemed to know though, so at least we saved ourselves that awkward realisation.

“Welcome to our house, Kang Y/N of the northern clan,” the pink-haired dragon spoke, and I was so relieved I could cry of happiness. The man had an aura of unnatural beauty about him and in my head I went through the packmates I still haven’t met trying to guess who he was. Taking in the air of maturity and a sense of duty that exuded from him, the firm yet gentle voice he spoke with and the wings that looked very uncomfortably folded over his back and bent over the ground, I was betting on the eldest.

“That’s Jin-hyung,” Jungkook whispered to me, though his voice was still loud enough to be heard through the whole room, drawing some smiles from the rest of the men. It broke the ice a little, draining away a bit of that tenseness from their shoulders, which I was infinitely grateful for.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Seokjin-ssi,” I greeted the dragon properly, bowing once more with a small smile – which he accepted graciously.

Turning to the two other dragons I’ve met before I gave each a small bow as well. “And nice to see you again, Jimin-ssi, Hoseok-ssi.” Their smiles were significantly less enthusiastic, but I’d take it. Better than nothing.

Now there were two dragons left – one that I recognised as Yoongi and one that had to be Taehyung, but neither of them seemed eager to introduce themselves. While Yoongi still kept his air of careful hostility, Taehyung looked at me curiously but with very obvious apprehension. I saw his hand tightly gripping onto Hoseok sitting next to him and given the fact that he sat at the end of the table, opposite of Jungkook, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. I tried not to take it personally.

Choosing to stop dancing around it, I took the moment to look into his eyes, hoping to convey as much genuineness as possible in that single glance and said: “It is an honour to meet you as well, Taehyung-ssi.”

The man didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, only turned his head slightly as if thinking. His eyes took me in, as if looking at me for the first time, before he finally straightened and leaned away from his older mate, instead choosing to watch me with intensity rivalling that of Namjoon. But while under the Authority’s eyes I felt like he was searching my soul for any wrongdoing, Taehyung’s eyes were like those of a curious child faced with an exciting experiment.

I had no idea whether that was a good thing, but it seemed better than before.

The last dragon didn’t even really give me a chance to speak, just nodded at me recognising that I knew him and to move on. So I did. Out of everyone here, the atmokinetic was the one I wanted to antagonise the least, so I just let it go and settled more into my seat.

“Well, let’s dig in,” Seokjin announced, still a little wooden, but the prospect of food worked like a charm to loosen up the atmosphere. Now we didn’t need to speak and the silence could be filled with sounds of eating, saving us from the inevitable awkward ‘what are your intentions with my son’ conversation.

“So, Y/N.” Or not.

I looked up to Namjoon, who sat tensely in his seat, something little pulled onto his plate just so he wouldn’t stand out, but both his hands were clasped together in front of his face and he peered at me over them.

“Yes, Authority,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t take offence to me bringing back the title now that we were in the privacy of his home and thunder, and while he didn’t react much, at least he didn’t tell me to stop. Everyone else at the table though turned to look at me shocked, and I burned under those six gazes, rather choosing not to dissect the meanings behind their eyes for the sake of my own psyche.

Seokjin at least seemed somewhat appeased, though Yoongi started frowning even more if that was even possible. I felt the examining probing gaze of Taehyung, but I didn’t turn.

I wondered whether I was trying a little too hard a little too soon. I hoped that I was laying down the foundation of future partnerships. If nothing else, I knew that Jungkook strangely remained firmly on my side.

“Why Qinglong?” Namjoon asked, neutrally watching me over the rim of a glass he picked up. If possible, my heart sped up even more when all the dragons paused and looked towards me, eyes reflecting various stages of curiosity and mistrust.

“I…” I felt my throat go dry, thoughts racing in my head, all trying to come up with the best way to put this without antagonising anyone even more.

“I’ve honestly always wanted to work with dragons,” I settled on, giving them a shaky smile. No one reacted, their faces stayed passive and gazes inquisitive, waiting for me to continue. “I had a teacher, when I was younger-” I was prepared to launch into the whole explanation again, but Seokjin’s quick response stopped me.

“Oh, that’s right!” the pink-haired man exclaimed, “Jimin and Jungkook mentioned the dragon you knew. Hwan, am I right?” I nodded, a little shocked, hesitantly looking over to Jimin. Jungkook telling his thunder was expected, but Jimin wasn’t even a part of that conversation. What could he possibly had to say about it?

The water dragon in question stubbornly avoided my gaze though, watching his plate as he chased unruly vegetables around with his spoon. He had nothing more to add now. The anxiety of his sudden change in demeanour was haunting me – of course it was something different to joke around when we barely knew each other, but I would have lied if I pretended his new attitude didn’t sting.

“Yes, that was- is his name,” I stumbled through the sentence, dragging my eyes back to the eldest who was giving me a stunted polite smile. He tried really hard to maintain some sense of normalcy, and for that I was grateful, now that Jimin and Hoseok barely looked at me, Yoongi and Namjoon outright didn’t like me, Taehyung unsettled me and Jungkook awkwardly sat through it all with a smile on his face.

“Was? Is?” the dragon repeated with an uncomfortable confused smile, “I only met a single dragon named Hwan, and I doubt you met the same one. I don’t recall any other dragons of that name.”

“I am not sure where he is now,” I repeated the words I said to Jungkook yesterday noon, “He spent only a year at our fief. He and his knight-“

“Were travelling knights,” Seokjin jumped in, the smile a little more wooden, “Yes, Jimin mentioned you said that.” The atmosphere in the room was plunged into something more tense and uncomfortable, I could feel it charged between us.

“Therefore,” I forced out a little firmer than I wanted to, “I cannot say whether you knew him or not. I don’t know when and for how long they were in Wuyun, if even." Seokjin looked at me for few long moments, the table silent. No one was saying anything, all the dragons watching the interaction with bated breaths – especially Jungkook who for once actually squirmed with nerves, unsure of how the situation would spin.

But then Seokjin smiled again, digging back into his food with a polite expression. The others followed his example and the table rang with cutlery clinking against porcelain. I nervously followed suit. The stress took a toll on me, and I felt almost resignation settling into me. I was tired, and I was fighting a losing battle.

I knew I had to try harder, longer, and I was prepared for that. I’d earn it.

The dinner carried on, awkward small-talk springing up here or there between bouts of tense silence. None of the dragons tried to stray towards any conflicting topics again, choosing to talk about benign things, mostly with each other letting me tag along.

Yoongi didn’t say a single word the entire evening, and neither did Taehyung, though both of their energies varied strongly.

I desperately tried to hold on, letting the dragons speak and only occasionally adding something, eyes ever so often searching Jungkook’s, begging for the reassurance that I knew I’d find there. And he always delivered, smiling at me in a way that said ‘don’t worry, it’ll be okay’, and I so desperately wanted to believe that. Guess I’d have to give it time.

The first dinner could have gone better, could have been less charged, less infused with unsureness and fear, but that evening I still left filled with hope quivering in my heart, buzzing with resolve I hadn’t known for a long while.

“Duke Lee weaseled his way to the Emperor like the rat he is,” the general hissed, and I sighed into my cup knowing exactly what was coming next. “I made a mistake not paying attention to Qinglong. He thinks he can fuck me over, sneaking through the back like this. He’s always had it in for me.”

I stabbed my fork around my plate, chasing the food around and playing with it, trying not to catch the man’s attention. Whenever he got like this it was rough, and sometimes no matter what you did you still ended up at the receiving end of his fury.

He didn’t take well to any perceived competition, and Duke Lee sleazing his way into father’s personal meeting with the emperor definitely displeased him.

Even with the slight pride I was able to win him in these past few days, during the duration of this very uncomfortable lunch I felt his eyes stray to me more than once, an unreadable look on his face. I knew it quite well – he was planning something, and I didn’t like that somehow I seemed to be involved in that.

My brother sat opposite of me as usual, gaze curious and impassive all at once trained on the quietly raging man. He also seemed to be aware that he was in the clear for this one, given the relaxed nature of his usually tense form.

I was waiting for the shoe to drop, attempting to at least somewhat enjoy the food presented – after all, it wasn’t the cook’s fault the general chose this time to throw a temper tantrum and spin his evil plans.

“Y/N.”

I froze mid-bite, heart contracting painfully for an agonising moment before I untensed and turned to face the older man.

“Yes, father?” I hoped that bundle of nerves choking me wasn’t audible in my voice, that I didn’t sound as strained as I felt. I was hoping to escape this for now, though I knew I couldn’t keep the man off my back for long with just a few promises to fly Bangtan.

“There is a general leading the Qinglong unit, right?” he asked, far-away contemplative look in his eyes as he barely regarded me.

“Yes, father, Qinglong is led by General Yun and her dragoness Ha-rin,” I answered dutifully, a bad feeling settling into my stomach and weighing it down. The man only hummed, swirling the glass in hand. He minutely looked towards my brother, the two men holding eye contact for few gut-wrenching seconds before he turned back to me.

“I will look into the affiliations, but considering the size of the unit I cannot imagine there’s many ranked,” the general scoffed, something vile creeping into his eyes, “There’s at most two captain generals, which would mean around four corporals and four captains. Horns have always banked more on infamy then numbers.” The cruelty in his mocking sneer never failed to shock me, not when he always found a new way to remind me of all of his worst qualities. Just like today.

“Man-young is working hard to climb the shadows’ ranks,” father said and gestured towards my brother who still leisurely ate dinner, “I will not have you pull him down by not trying for the same. Bangtan is only the beginning.” I’ve already heard these demands before, but he’s never said them with so much undebatable conviction. There was no arguing – and I would not attempt to.

“Yes father,” I recited obediently, bowing my head in show of submission and satisfying his ego. What was it they said? Revenge tastes sweeter when the lamb trusts you with their very life? The betrayal never feels better than when they never thought you’d be the one to stab the knife in?

My father thought he knew me the best. He thought he knew how to control me the best. I fought to stifle my smile. I still had a surprise or two down my sleeves, general.

“I will pull some strings, they will not embarrass me by not having you promoted by the end of the year,” the man continued, lost to his own thoughts swirling around in that machine for destruction he called brain, hand carding through his greying black short hair and silver stubble, stormy grey eyes glazed as he already planned his next steps. “Once you become captain, you need to pull your own weight. I want you a corporal within the next year, Y/N. I hope you chose the right dragon for battle.”

I ignored the remark about Jungkook and nodded again, head still bowed politely as I agreed once more, the false promises falling out of my lips easily. My brother watched me, eyes inquisitive but none-the-wiser, and I smirked his way. I saw the exact moment disappointment ran through him, thinking I’m still nothing more than that rebellious kid hell-bent on making his life harder, and though it stung, it was the better option. He was not my friend and he would not be my ally, no matter what.

“You’ll be my tool to claiming Qinglong back to my favour. I will not stand for that vermin trying to run things on my turf.”

This was between me and the goddess of creation, the mother of nature.

But one thing I did have to give to my father – there was one thing he was most definitely right about. Bangtan was only the beginning.

Series masterlist | Previous part | Next part

Lore | Dictionary | Character studies

Taglist (open): @stxrrielle @hobicakess @comicnerd557 @11thenightwemet11 @socksfirst1

@dachshunddame @channiespup @danielle143 @borahaetelevision @kingofbodyrolls

@jungshaking @futuristicenemychaos @ah2002 @tadomikiku @ambsv

@silscintilla @anaspectoflife @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @uniquecutie-puffs @starlight-1010

@autherpj @anjoellamorte @silscintilla

250 notes · View notes

once-upon-an-imagine · 8 months ago

Text

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts.

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her.

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were.

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you.

“Potter” you smirked.

“Going to the match today?”

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him.

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall.

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended.

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted.

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you.

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted.

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate.

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag.

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag.

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled.

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?”

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates.

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused.

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate.

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain.

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said.

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?”

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked.

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously.

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged.

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?”

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate.

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious.

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added.

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused.

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled.

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended.

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!”

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?”

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy.

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?”

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled.

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor.

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly.

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face.

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you.

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged.

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented.

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled.

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James.

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you.

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said.

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?”

“Okay, fair” you sighed.

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress.

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her.

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you.

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup.

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said.

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little.

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled.

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled.

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?”

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little.

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered.

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror.

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly.

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled.

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm.

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first.

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked.

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him.

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!”

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted.

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him.

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-”

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated.

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you.

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him.

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?”

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said.

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little.

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted.

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added.

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden.

“Nothing” Remus quickly said.

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?”

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself.

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously.

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink.

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes.

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him.

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets. You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well.

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you.

“Oh” you smiled wearily.

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said.

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head.

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved.

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside.

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused.

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused.

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added.

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off.

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added.

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you.

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink.

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window.

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around.

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you.

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little.

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself.

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little.

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?”

“Of course I did” he chuckled.

“James” you glared at him.

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you.

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed.

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged.

“James!” you laughed.

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted.

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed.

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way.

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?”

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?”

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious.

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly.

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted.

“But how can you not believe me about that?”

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink.

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?”

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly.

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop.

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile.

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus.

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously.

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained.

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips.

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

#marauders #marauders imagine #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #sirius black x sister!reader #regulus black x sister!reader #james potter oneshot

633 notes · View notes

eemamminy-art · 1 month ago

Text

I was talking about this in a server but I wanted to put the thoughts here too

I think Zenos being the way he is stems so much from Emet-selch's beliefs that sundered people are lesser. Like it's the generational trauma that made Zenos that way in the sense of Solus' cruelty to Varis led to Varis' cruelty toward Zenos, but I also think that the loss of the ancient world and the contempt Emet-selch holds for humanity is also something he instilled in both Zenos and Varis. The notion that humanity is just inherently corrupt and evil, and that people will always resort to violence and harm toward one another because he's seen so many conflicts and nations that rose and fell over the millennia.

So in his kin, that sentiment is passed on. In Varis' case, he is aware of his grandfather being an ascian and is very much like, "I will be the exception to the rule, I will be the example of mankind standing above the ancients." Except, of course, Varis uses this mentality to justify some of the most horrific atrocities a person could commit, such as mass genocide through black rose, or killing his own family members in the civil war that followed Solus' death. Varis has this notion that he's an example of a "good" human, despite doing all of the terrible things that Emet-selch ascribes to humanity as a whole.

In Zenos' case, he was groomed to be a living weapon and has come out the other side of it with this bleak outlook. If humans are inherently cruel and evil and corrupt, why does anything matter? It made his baseline assume the worst in everyone, including himself, so his apathy is all-encompassing. There is no right or wrong, everyone kills everyone and it's all fucked up, so why bother trying to be "right"? What even are "right" and "wrong" anyway? It allows him to be someone who does horrific things, while searching for some kind of purpose or meaning. I wish we had gotten to see more of Fandaniel and Zenos interacting, because I think they are so similar in the sense of wanting for meaning and purpose but being so disillusioned with the world and with the cruelty of others that they themselves became cruel.

I think long before the "would you be happier had I a good reason?" speech and Alisaie's rebuttal to it, Zenos had this curious little seed embedded in him by his encounters with the warrior of light. It's not unlike how Lyse spends much of 4.0 both hating Fordola, and also being fiercely curious as to why she is the way she is and seeking to understand her. With Lyse though, she is guided by her strong sense of empathy and the notion that all of her people deserve their homeland returned to them regardless of their actions, while Zenos lacks empathy completely and up until now didn't really think about anyone, not even himself. But that curiosity is there, deep down, and I think it is a major driving force in keeping him going forward.

You could argue that Zenos' motivations are selfish: he does say himself that he is chasing the high of battle with a worthy opponent, and I think on some level that is true. But there is something deeper to it, something that really makes him question all he's known: "In that transcendent moment, what was it that I sought in you? And what was it that you sought in me?" He's seeking purpose, he's seeking the reason for what motivates people like the warrior of light to do good, and what "good" even is. It's so contrary to everything he's known, but it grabs hold of him until it becomes an obsession.

I think it's further elaborated on with some of Zero's story arc where she's learning about empathy, although her reasons for being that way are somewhat different from Zenos, I think they are similar on some level in that they can't really understand empathy or inherent goodness. She does eventually learn it, of course, and I'd like to think if given the chance to survive beyond the battle with the Endsinger, that Zenos could have gone on a similar journey too. That's what I envision anyway.

#idk what's the point to this I'm just thinking about him #as always lol #ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #zenos yae galvus

192 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 2 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things 📍 Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find your estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman.

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm.

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming.

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her?

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.”

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction.

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that.

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock.

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her.

“Love” her.

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself.

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move.

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door.

A random memory flashed behind your eyes, washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value.

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response.

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.”

“Oh hey!”

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill.

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers.

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin.

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up.

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back.

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off.

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms.

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.”

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners.

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!”

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth.

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine.

Yes, he was a man.

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before.

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him.

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love?

And did that matter at all?

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words.

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours.

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant.

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens?

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely.

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge.

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe.

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession.

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful.

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others.

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust.

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him.

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below.

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough.

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #fanfiction #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you

253 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 7 months ago

Text

Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, masterbation (m & f), p in v (alluded to), Dark!Coriolanus, Young Politician!Coriolanus, Secretary!Reader

This one got away from me so it's a bit long. Whoops...

You're at your desk, logging into your computer to start the day whenever the door to the office opens and in walks your boss. Senator Coriolanus Snow. One of the youngest Head Gamemakers and Senators in the history of Panem. He's only 24 years old and he's already so successful.

Crazy, right?

Your older brother was in the same graduating class as him at the Academy. Rein was a slacker that wasn't in the top 24 while Coryo- uh Coriolanus- was the top student, won the Plinth prize, and even did a short stint as a Peacekeeper to serve the greater good of the country (like his father General Crassus Snow did before him) before attending the University as a double major in Political Science and Military Strategies. Oh and while attending the University he interned under Dr. Gaul, became an Assistant Gamemaker, and even became the Head Gamemaker himself when Dr. Gaul died in a tragic lab accident involving her mutts.

And he did all of that by age 20.

Age 20!

After graduating from the Academy, Rein was shoved into the Peacekeepers by your father, retired Colonel Javanis Halvir. Your brother was sent to 8 and he complained in all of his letters about it. Once he was eligible to take the Officer's Aptitude Exam, your father had ordered him to sign up. So, Rein took the test and became an officer. He got assigned to PK Base D-12.

And that's what your older brother accomplished by 20. Oh and he also knocked up a local barmaid from the Hobb, causing your father to have a stroke. Your mother found it very comical.

And then both of your parents told you that you needed to redeem the family name, blah blah blah, and pushed you to be the top student in the Academy. So, of course you ended up in the top 24. And you mentored a tribute, a 17 year old boy from 7, that won. He was very proficient with an ax. You didn't have to do too much mentoring, he basically just hacked everybody to bits…

But you still won the Plinth Prize anyways. And during the ceremony for the prize, instead of Strabo Plinth handing you over the Plinth Prize it was his heir instead.

Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.

After handing you the prize he had asked you to have a glass of posca with him, causing your mother to glare angrily at the interaction. Your father on the other hand was ecstatic that Coryo-uh Coriolanus- wanted to talk to you. He served under General Snow in 12; thought that Coriolanus was a man cut from the same cloth as his father.

Anyways, once you and Coriolanus Snow got to talking he admitted that he was going into politics and would need a personal secretary; an assistant per say to help him with his day to day tasks such as scheduling meetings, etc. and much to your surprise, he offered you the job.

That was a couple of years ago.

So, yes, that's how you got your job. And you really liked your job. It wasn't that hard to do plus it made you feel important that such an accomplished and powerful man trusted you to manage his life.

If you only knew that Coriolanus, who's been insisting that you call him Coryo for roughly a year now, has been lusting after you since he saw you in a cute dress that hugged your body just right when he presented you the Plinth Prize 2 years ago. Also, your boss is a dark soul. A cold man. But he does have a soft spot for you.

And only for you.

Which is why he greets you with a wide, manic smile that makes the corners of his baby blues crinkle. “Good morning, Y/N.” The platinum blonde senator says while crossing the room, heading to your desk.

“Good morning, Senator Snow.” You politely smile, pulling up the excel document in order to print out the day's schedule for your boss. And talk about your boss, he's holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a tray of coffee along with a pastry bag in the other as he stops at your desk.

Coriolanus sets everything down, only to grab the vase on the corner of your desk and bring it over to the trash. All the while saying, “I brought you some fresh roses, courtesy of Grandma’am’s rooftop garden, to replace the wilted ones on your desk.”

The blonde politician did that every Monday for you. He brought fresh flowers for your office vase. A vase he gifted you for your one year work anniversary last year.

Dumping the contents of the vase out in the trash can, Coriolanus gestured to the coffees and brown paper bag on your desk, only to explain, “The barista at the coffee shop got my order wrong, so I had to do a second order, but since I already paid for the wrong order I figured I'd give it to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Coriolanus, Sir.” You simply smiled, grateful for the free coffee. You were going to put a pot on in the break room as soon as you printed out Snow's schedule, but getting an unexpected cup of coffee’s always nice.

Perhaps you'll pay it forward and treat him to coffee tomorrow. The gods know that you have his coffee order memorized.

It's black, just like his soul, with a couple of sugar packets. Not Splenda, not Sweet ‘n’ Low, not Truvia, but real sugar made from sugar cane grown down in 11. Oh and he always has a chocolate filled croissant too.

You also know his afternoon tea order by heart along with his dinner orders from a handful of takeout places he prefers. Hell, you even know his liquor order for after hours meetings. But it's your duty to know those things since, after all, you're his personal secretary.

Literally his right hand woman.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to, please, call me Coryo.” Your boss shook his head at you while bringing the empty vase to the nearby bathroom to fill up with water.

It must've been at least a hundred times by now, maybe more. But it felt weird to you calling your boss such a personal sounding nickname. You're both professional adults, if you call him by his name it should be Coriolanus. If not then you'll just refer to him as his title, since he's your boss.

“You know I can't call you Coryo, Coriolanus. It's not proper; you're my boss.” You remind the senator, who's dressed to the nines today in a perfectly tailored three piece black suit- complete with a white dress shirt and striped tie, as he walks out of the bathroom and back into your foyer office with the filled up vase in hand.

A vase that looked dwarfed by his large grip. “We've known each other for a couple of years now, darling. I'd like to think of us as being on friendly terms, wouldn't you?” Coriolanus asked, placing the vase down on your desk and arranging the flowers in them for you.

You clicked the print button on your computer, only to swivel your chair around to reach the ink jet printer behind you. “Yes, we're friendly, but you're still my boss.”

“And as your boss I'm now ordering you to call me Coryo.” He told you, pulling out the coffee that was yours, due to error, and setting it on your desk while you watched the printer spit out the paper with his daily schedule on it.

“Fine, I'll call you Coryo.” You gave in, grabbing the paper and swiveling back around to face your him.

“I got two croissants since I had to get my order remade, so it looks like you'll be getting one this morning, darling.” Coryo told you, opening up the paper bag and pulling out a pastry. He grabbed a napkin that was stuffed into the drink carrier and put it on your desk, next to your coffee, before depositing your croissant on it.

“Thank you.” You simply smile. Handing him over his schedule, you announce, “Here's your schedule for today.”

The platinum blonde gives you a closed lip smile and nods before stretching his hand out for the paper. “You've got a dinner meeting tonight at 7 o’clock sharp with a political sponsor.” You reminded him, your fingertips brushing, while he grabs the outstretched paper from you.

Briefly glancing over the paper in his hand, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”

“What?”

“Dinner at 7 o’clock sharp. Would you like to go with me?”

Shaking your head, you politely decline his offer. “Oh no, I'm sorry, Coryo, Sir, but I can't go.”

“Why not? Got a boyfriend or something occupying your time?” The senator sharply asks, his baritone heavy with a tingle of jealousy.

Coriolanus prayed to every God he never believed in that you're single. If not, well he's going to go whack some unlucky bastard to free you up to be his girl. He's decided that he's tired of pinning over you; stalking you.

Coryo's ready to take things to the next level. He's ready to fucking corrupt you; make you his forever. He's going to be announcing his bid for the presidential runoff, the first step in becoming one of two candidates to face off for the presidency, and it's time for him to get into a relationship.

A public relationship.

And you're perfect for that. Coriolanus knows, without a doubt, that you'll make a perfect First Lady. That your beauty and slight innocence will be the perfect contrast to his cold, stoic, but regal stature. That you're a perfect fit for him.

Plus he's getting tired of paying for whores. Whores that he has to keep disposing of so that they can't blackmail him about his sexual appetite. Coriolanus prides himself of being from one of the founding families of Panem, from the Old Guard. He even runs on the Old Guard ticket; he can't have some disgruntled whore tarnishing his reputation.

It'd be much cheaper and easier to just get you into bed; fuck you in all the ways that he likes.

But he also has a soft spot for you. Coryo likes you. Okay, that's a lie. He's obsessed with you in such a dark, sick way that if he sees a man smile at you or get too close to you then he's killing that man. Yea, Senator Snow’s in love with you, or at least in his head he's in love with you.

It's more like an obsession.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't have a boyfriend.” Well, you had an on-again, off-again thing going on with your neighbor across the hall from you, but since it's currently off Coryo doesn't need to know about that.

Coriolanus swore that he heard the heavens singing hymns upon hearing that you're single. Yes, now’s the perfect time for him to make you his.

“Then I'll have my driver pick you up for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

Once again, you decline him invitation. “You're my boss, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you tonight.”

Usually Coriolanus appreciates your professionalism and dedication to your job, but right now he loathes it. Why can't you just accept that he's taking you to his dinner meeting tonight. That he's showing you off on his arm for the entire Capitol to see.

Leaning against your desk, he gives you a piercing look with his icy eyes and tells you, “It's a very important business dinner with a political sponsor, Y/N, and you're my assistant.” A calculating look crosses the politician's face as he adds in, “It's actually, you might say, very vital that you attend dinner with me tonight.”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

“Okay, I'll go to dinner with you tonight.” You relent, causing a smug grin to appear on Coryo's face.

“Good.” Coryo grins, making his face light up like sunshine, as he grabs his coffee and pastry bag. “Since dinner's at 7, I'll have my driver pick you up at 6:45. That'll leave a 15 minute window to get to the restaurant.” The platinum blonde told you the plan before pivoting on his heel and striding over to his office. Pausing at his door, with his large hand hovering over the knob, he looked over his shoulder and told you, “Wear either a red or black dress, but preferably red.”, before opening up the door and disappearing inside of his office.

Oh, how did you get into this mess?

Coriolanus sat at his mahogany desk, going over documents for various bills that he could either sponsor or just straight up deny. Honestly, most of the shit that got dumped on his desk he denied. If it didn't pertain to the Capitol and the Capitolites then he just shoved the document in his shredder and made a note to vote no, well in the Senate it was ‘nah’, on it.

And Senator Snow was notorious for voting nah on everything.

As he sat in his office going over mindless matters, he couldn't help but wonder about what you'd look like all dolled up for dinner tonight. He knew that you had a few nice cocktail dresses to pick from, but the mystery of whether you'd listen to him and wear something black or preferably red versus another color altogether made his head spin a mile a minute. He hopes that you're a good little secretary and listen to him about the dress.

But what he really can't help fantasizing about is what you'll be wearing underneath your dress. He can't help picturing you in a bra and panty set that hugs your body in the right ways. The senator's daydreaming about delicate lace molded against your most private parts, that are hidden away only for your lover to see.

And just thinking about becoming your lover, stripping you out of not just your dress, but your soft, delicate lingerie has his pants growing tighter. So tight, in fact, that it was downright uncomfortable.

Letting out a barely audible groan, the platinum blonde stood up from his desk and went over to his door. For just a moment, he leaned his forehead against it and debated on whether or not to call you into his office; have you on your knees underneath his desk for him. But then he decided against it; locked his door instead and went over to his desk chair to take care of himself.

You're not some district whore, you deserve to be properly wined and dined first before he has you on your knees for him- choking on his cock with tears and mascara messily running down your cheeks.

Oh, just the thought of you with your pretty mouth around his large cock had said cock twitching in his pants.

Quickly, Coriolanus makes his way over to the small sofa that's in the corner of his office. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, only to tug his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free before sitting on the sofa. Spitting in his hand, he leans back into the sofa and wraps his large hand around his cock.

He feels his dick throbbing angrily in his cold hand while sliding his thumb over his tip’s leaky slit. The platinum blonde bites back a moan, and closes his eyes- pretending that it's your hand wrapped around his shaft and your thumb teasing his cockhead. Fuck, how he craves your touch. Using his thumb to spread precum over his tip and down the length of his dick, he started to move his fist up and down in measured glides.

Coriolanus knows he should just rub one out as quick as possible since he's at work, but the fact that you- the object of all his fantasies- is right outside won't let him. Being in such close proximity to you feeds his fantasies and he has to have a proper handjob session.

Coriolanus has to indulge in the make believe notion that you're the one pumping his cock up and down, twisting your wrist slightly every now and then. That it's you playing with his cum heavy balls, making his toes curl in his socks and black floor shines, as the fist around his cock starts to slightly pick up pace.

Gods, he's getting lost in his fantasy of you pleasuring him with your hands, hell even your mouth- that he's sure will be aching from his cock unhinging your jaw when you suck him off- that the loud ringing of his office phone startles him.

“Goddamnit! Can't I fuck my fist in peace?” Coriolanus grumbled.

He's angry that his fantasy was broken; that he has to fist his cock faster than he wanted to.

The phone continued to ring off the hook as he furiously moved his hand up and down his dick. He bit his lip and bucked his hips, spurting his cum into his left hand. The one that he was using on his balls before the damn phone started ringing like crazy.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the side table next to him and wiped off his hand. Standing up to right his boxer briefs and pants, he heard your heels echo down the hall. Great, just great, now you're on your way to his office because the phone’s ringing off the hook.

Quickly, Coriolanus tosses the tissues into the wastebin. Rushing to his desk, he grabs the phone, only to slam it down. Hard.

Hey, he made the excessive ringing stop. Whoever called should just stick to the after 3 rings, hang up and try again later rule. Coriolanus has more important things to do than listen to a phone ring endlessly.

More important things: like jacking off to daydreams and fantasies about his secretary.

His secretary that's knocking on his door and asking him if he's alright.

“I'm fine, my darling.” Coriolanus called out to you while crossing his office. He unlocked his door and opened it, only to give you a manipulative smile while feeding you the bullshit lie of, “I just zoned out reading a grant proposal and didn't realize the phone was ringing.”

“Are you sure you're alright?” You asked, only to follow it up with the offer of, “I can always read some of those grant proposals and take notes on them for you, if you want. That way you won't get so bored to death reading them that you miss important phone calls.”

“You'd do that, for me?” Coriolanus asked, feeling a bit touched by your offer. Oh, how he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.

A perfect angel sent to him from the Lord above. And he's your golden angel too.

Lucifer, that is.

“Of course, Coryo. It's my job to help you with paperwork.”

And before another word could be shared between you two, his phone started ringing. Again.

“Oh, I'll leave you to your call. Just put whatever you want me to read for you on my desk later.”

“I will, darling.” Coriolanus smiles at you, watching you walk away before closing his door.

Storming over to his phone, he sees that the video option light is blinking. Sitting down, he answered the phone and pressed the button to turn on his video call screen. As soon as the face of the half-assed idiot that was one of the Junior Gamemakers appeared on the screen he immediately felt a migraine coming on.

“Senator Snow, are you neglecting Head Gamemaker duties in favor of politics? You never answered my call.” The redhead man with a bad combover had the audacity to tell his boss via the phone screen.

Poor soul must not value his life…

“There’s 3 fucking months before the games, that I'm designing, so there's no damn reason for you to call me and let the phone ring off the hook. Are you incompetent? If you had the common sense that God gave a mule the. You'd know I was busy with other matters and couldn't answer your ridiculous call.” Coriolanus seethed in a long winded rant. His veins were protruding from his pale neck; a red vein was angrily popping in his forehead too. But it was his eyes that held so much hate in their icy orbs.

The man on the phone screen, despite being a few years older then Senator Snow, was a complete incompetent idiot in Coriolanus' opinion. Age certainly didn't make him any wiser.

“I'm a very busy man; next time you pester me I'll have you thrown into a tank full of rabid mutts.” Coriolanus promised the Junior Gamemaker before hanging up, hard, on him.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps into his overstuffed leather office chair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples and tries to calm down by daydreaming about dinner with you tonight.

Your day went on as it usually does. You took calls and made appointments for Senator Snow. You also read and typed up some cliff notes for a few bills that Coryo left for you before he took off for lunch. He didn't say where he was going and you didn't ask.

When he came back from a power lunch, you knew he went somewhere for drinks cause you could smell a hint of whiskey radiating from his pores, he greeted you with a simple thin lipped smile and placed a container of food on your desk. He didn't tell you to take your lunch break, but the way he wordlessly moved his baby blues between you and the doggie bag he just dumped on your desk was more than enough to give you a hint that he wanted you to eat. So, you simply thanked him, before handing him some notes and taking the food he got you to the break room.

After lunch, the remainder of your day was mundane. Or at least it was until Coryo emerged from his office and strutted over to your desk. You didn't pay him any mind, figuring that he prolly just wanted the other bills back along with the notes you just finished up on them. So, when he perches himself on the corner of your desk, all the while suggesting, “Darling, why don't you leave early. You can pamper yourself with, say, a rosewater bubble bath before tonight's dinner. Yea?”, you're taken aback.

You're in total shock.

Your nose scrunched up, reminding Coriolanus of a little bunny rabbit, as you asked incredulously, “Excuse me, Senator Snow? You're sending me home early?” Softly, you trailed off, “To take a bubble bath…”, while tilting up a baffled arched eyebrow.

“A rosewater bubble bath.” The regal platinum man corrected with a long finger high up in the air. Leaning slightly, so that he towers over you as you sit behind your desk (and gets a nice little peek down your v-neck blouse at your modest cleavage), he tells you, “You're such a dedicated employee; I think you deserve to go home early and pamper yourself before I drag you out to a dinner with my potential political sponsor.”

And what he wasn't telling you was that Mr. Feathersworth was bringing his mistress along. Oh yea… So, technically, it's a couples dinner.

Really? He wants you to relax and pamper yourself before a dinner full of political talk? Wow. You weren't expecting that from your boss.

“My bath and beauty products are actually rose-vanilla scented, Coryo, not rosewater.” You told him, before you could even think better of it.

A smirk appears on Coryo's face and desire briefly flashed in his cerulean eyes. The imposing man favored roses; in fact it was his signature, so that fact that you used rose-vanilla scented bath and beauty products had his cold, black heart beating with warmth, life, and daresay love for you.

“Darling, you deserve to pamper yourself in that rose-vanilla bubble bath. We'll be in for quite a long evening; you don't want to be tense beforehand, now so you?”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

Sighing slightly, you gave in with, “Fine, I'll leave early and pamper myself with a bubble bath.”

“Rose-vanilla bubble bath.” Coriolanus corrected with a ghost of a smile tracing his lush lips. Patting your cheek, he tells you, “Go ahead and go, darling. I'll be fine here for a few more hours.”, before pushing himself off of your desk.

“Thank you. I'll see you later for that political dinner.” You genuinely smiled, grabbing your bag out from under your desk and shouldering it before standing up.

“Remember, my driver will be by at 6:45 sharp.”

“Oh, that's right. You need-” You began, intending to give Senator Snow your address, only to be cut off by a raised hand. “I have your address in my employee files, Y/N.” His baritone hung thickly in the air like honey stuck on a honeycomb; slowly dripping down, as he ordered, “Go home and pamper yourself; get all dolled up in something red, my darling rose.”

As you sat neck deep in your tub, surrounded by bubbles, thoughts of your boss floated around your head. You never really thought much about him, or at least you didn't til now. Yes, you always thought that he was easy on the eyes- platinum hair (you always secretly wondered if the carpet matches the drapes), striking crystal blue eyes, a prominent nose, sharp jawline, tall and lanky build. But you never truly fixated your attention on his looks, or at least until now that is.

You can't explain it, but the interaction you had with him before leaving the office had your blood racing. You're flustered with dirty thoughts. Things that you've never truly let yourself imagine about Senator Coriolanus Snow.

But now…

Well, now you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking about your boss while relaxing in your bath; trailing hand over your breasts while your other hand’s rubbing your clit; dipping two fingers in and out of your pussy.

It's best to get this out of your system now, before you're stuck going to dinner with him tonight.

“Coriolanus, I was expecting your driver to pick me up.” You gasp, hand tightly gripping the doorknob of your open door, as you're shocked by the sight of the tall platinum blonde standing in front of you- dressed impeccably in a deep crimson suit with a single red rose in his hand.

“Bentley drove me here.” Coriolanus informed you. “Now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk up to your door to get you our dinner date?” He smirks, offering you the rose.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Dinner date…but I thought this was a professional dinner with a potential political backer, Senator Snow.” You tell him as you shakily take the offered rose from his large, outstretched hand.

“Yes, well, my darling, Mr. Feathersworth informed me that he's bringing along his mistress to Mizuna’s so I don't see why we can't mix some business with pleasure as well.”

Before you could utter a word, the door right across the hall and behind Coriolanus opened; out walked your on-off neighbor ex. Bastard was dressed like he's going out somewhere (or going out with someone). His sea-green eyes look over at you and lock Coriolanus back a bit curiously: portraying that he can't believe you're all dolled up and going out with someone so regal looking.

Deciding that you didn't like the look on your ex’s face, you put your hand on Coriolanus' label and press a quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “Let me put up this rose, Coryo, and then you can take me on our date.”

Coryo grabbed your face in one of his hands and kissed you again, this time his lips searing and hungry, before running his hand over your cheekbone and darkly smirking, “You can just take it along with us, darling. I'm taking you home with me tonight; it'd be such a shame for you to leave your rose alone on a side table all night.”

“You're taking me home with you?” You asked, finding this information entirely new to you.

At least your bronze haired ex wasn't standing behind Coryo; gawking at you anymore.

Pulling you out of your apartment and locking your doorknob, only to slam the door shut, he bluntly tells you, “I’d be a fool not to, Y/N, and, frankly, I'm anything, but a fool.” Coryo smoothly tell you while leading you down the hallway; towards the elevator bank.

And of course when you reach the elevator your ex is just stepping into it. Great, now you're going to be riding in an elevator with your on-off neighbor ex and your boss/sudden new fling.

Oh boy…

“After you, darling.” Coryo sweetly tells you, guiding you into the metal box while following right behind you.

You feel your ex’s eyes on you, burning a hole into the side of your face, as Coriolanus hits the buttons to both close the door and go to the lobby.

“Should've known you'd be cozy with Senator Snow, considering you're his personal secretary.” Flew out of your ex’s mouth as soon as he saw Coryo's large hand come to rest on the small of your back.

“Odysseus…” You chastise, nearly hissing at him.

Coriolanus snapped his head around so fast, it was as if it was going to spin off exorcist style, and narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired man next to you. “I can have you turned into an Avox for slander against Miss Y/N, so I’d mind that useless tongue of yours if I were you.”

“Coryo, calm down. My neighbor-”

“Ex” Odysseus supplied at the same time you uttered the word neighbor, causing Coriolanus’ face to turn into hardened stone.

“She doesn't belong to you anymore, Odysseus. My darling seems to have gotten tired of settling for beans and has upgraded to the filet mignon.” The senator told your ex in a smooth, but eerily cold tone. “You ought to consider yourself lucky that I won't be calling for your tongue, but I'm sure I'm we can agree to you not bothering my sweet girl anymore, can't we, Mister-”

“Odair. Name's Odysseus Odair, Senator Snow.” Your ex shot out, his voice fake and sugary, as he played with fire.

Snow melts, but fish fry. And unfortunately for Odysseus Odair he'd learn that the hard way after Senator Coriolanus Snow gets him exhiled to District 4 for the crimes of slander. Coriolanus' cold ass gives Poseidon Odair, Odysseus’ father, an ultimatum- either sign over his assets, investments, and company over to him and go into exhiled on 4 with his son or his son would be turned into an Avox for slander against you, the senator's personal secretary and girlfriend.

Coriolanus Snow was a cold ass to everyone except for you. Something that you'd come to discover in time. But right now it's not important.

No, right now what's important is keeping the senator from tearing your ex apart limb by limb.

Sensing that Coryo was starting to unravel (something that you've never seen and, frankly, didn't want to) you rubbed his shoulder while telling him, “Coryo, please, just let it go. You don't want to be in a bad mood before dinner with your political backer, do you?”

Coriolanus’ jaw twitched for a moment before he gave you a slight smile, “Of course, darling.”

Odysseus found Senator Snow's demanear changing into sweet and loving for you at the drop of a hat very alarming. Honestly, he thought it was downright scary that Snow went from menacing one minute to practically cooing at you the next.

As soon as the elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged open, your ex practically ran out of them. It made Coryo chuckle.

You and Coryo walked out of the elevator together, only to cross the lobby and head out of the building towards his car. His driver, Bentley, was standing by the black luxury sedan that was parked in front of the curb. Upon seeing you with the senator, he quickly opened the back door. You thanked him and let Coryo help you into the backseat.

“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier, but you look truly beautiful in your red dress.” Coryo told you, once he was settled in the back seat next to you.

“Thank you, Coryo. You look handsome yourself.” You replied with a smile as the driver took his place behind the wheel and pull the car away from your building.

“And tonight we'll make quite the debate as a stunning political couple.” The platinum blonde confidently told you as you rode to the high end restaurant the meeting with major political endorser Mr. Feathersworth, and his mistress, was taking place at.

Tonight is only the first of many spent at Coryo's side. It's safe to say that you're Senator Snow's darling sectary; that he has a soft spot for you. After all, he charmed you into becoming his girlfriend with the guise of attending a political dinner with him for work related purposes.

But you'd accept that dinner invitation again and again no matter what universe you're in because that dinner ended with Coryo fucking you in the backseat of his car. The poor driver nearly drove the car off a bridge and into the opposite lane of traffic he was so startled by what his boss and you were doing. Yes, the two of you still were clothed (for the most part) but Bentley knew that if he looked into the rearview mirror and saw something he wasn't supposed to then Snow would have his eyeballs pickled in a jar (literally!). And after fucking in the backseat of his car, a life was created with Coryo and you never left his side.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

366 notes · View notes