#anyway just went for a walk in the first snow of the year
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sirenpearldust · 2 days ago
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Winter
Pair: Azriel x reader (platonic)
Word count: 997
Warnings: Angst, death, funeral
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It snowed.
The streets were empty as the young man wandered aimlessly through the night, his breath visible in the frosty air. 
He had no destination, no purpose - just the need to escape, to lose himself in the stillness of the empty streets.
His nose was red and running, a casualty of the biting chill.
He pulled his jacket tighter against the cold that seeped into his bones.
Above, the city sky was void of stars, the only light coming from the faintly flickering street lamps, their glow weak and on the verge of dying. 
He remembered how she used to complain about them back in their school days, saying they were useless when she walked home. 
Years had passed, but the city still hadn’t changed their lightbulbs. He smiled sadly, memories of her still hurt him.
Maybe it was just meant to be.
Maybe Azriel was destined to endure nightmare after nightmare, trapped in a relentless cycle of darkness.
He had forgotten about her and now she was gone.
• •
He hadn’t checked on her in a while, too caught up in his own world.
She had always warned him, told him it was a possibility - but he never thought it would come to this.
The last time they shared a coffee, she had confessed it quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup. She was lonely, she said, and needed him, her closest friend.
Both had relied on each other, their friendship kept them alive through the chaos of school and home. 
But after graduation, their paths crossed less and less, month by month, until the phone stopped ringing altogether.
Until he got too busy, and she kept waiting, for a text, for a call, for something. 
But it never came.
The day they met up, she told him how sad it made her that he never reached out first.
She thanked him and they started reminiscing about old times, sharing how their lives had changed.
He told her about the girl he was interested in.
She listened, nodding, though her eyes seemed to drift somewhere far away.
She told him how living with her parents was draining, how their abusive they still were and how numb she felt. 
Nothing about her life had really changed. 
She felt guilty for burdening him with it, but the words slipped out anyway.
He talked about his own life, how everything was going so well for him.
She was happy for him and smiled brightly.
For a moment, Azriel forgot everything else around him, as he watched her face brighten up.
It made him feel like a young boy and all warm again.
She looked cute as she drank her tea.
But what he didn’t notice were her eyes, empty, lifeless - dead. 
The sparkle that used to draw people in, was gone.
• •
Two days went by, she waited.
The phone pinged, he remembered.
She smiled, he held his promise and everything felt fine again.
She called him and he answered.
They talked for three hours.
He missed talking to her, how easy everything felt.
She missed feeling so alive, how free she felt.
It was the last conversation they would share.
• •
She wrote and called him.
He didn’t answer.
She cried, lying broken in her bed, as the tears rolled down the side of her face. 
He had promised he would be there this time and help her.
Days turned into weeks and the distance between them stretched further.
• •
It snowed the day she called.
He picked up the phone, smiling softly as he watched the snowflakes fall.
It was her younger sister.
He checked his phone display.
The profile picture stared right back at him, it was her number.
He asked her confused why she was using her sister‘s phone.
Silence followed, until a sob broke through the quiet.
“She died,“ her sister whispered.
He chuckled, thinking it was a joke, asking her if they weren’t to old for pranks.
But her sobs wouldn’t stop, each one raw and desperate, as the reality for him slowly settled in for him.
She was gone.
His phone lit up with notifications, one after another.
Texts from friends, all sharing the same news.
He was one of the few that had gotten a call.
• •
The funeral was held two days later.
Her family insisted she be buried in her home country, her final wish.
She was buried in a cemetery near the mountains, where the snow laid like a blanket over the graves all winter. In the spring, however, life broke through, as the flowers grew beautifully around the graves.
One letter was left behind and read aloud at the funeral.
It was all too heavy for him, to hear how unloved and unneeded she felt.
She no longer wanted to be a burden. 
She apologised, asking for forgiveness from God and from those she had left behind.
• •
The way to the hotel afterwards felt endless, the weight of the day still pressing down on him.
Her family had returned to their home they had kept here, the place where she had spent every summer, the place she had once talked about bringing him.
He lay down on the bed, the room cold and silent, the snow falling outside.
He couldn’t sleep, every time he closed his eyes he saw her.
He would never see her again in this life.
He couldn’t help but feel at fault, he should have never broken his promise.
He read their texts over and over again, went through every conversation they had, replayed every moment together. He missed her more and more, with every second.
Loving her was easy. 
Why did he distance himself?
He should have listened better. She had told him years ago that death was inevitable, especially for her.
She had known she would die young, a truth she had accepted long before. 
Wether by her own hand or God’s grace and now he was left with the crushing reality.
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Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @fieldofdaisiies
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bluesidedown · 1 month ago
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Hi I'm still surviving yay
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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago
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Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!
as long as you need me - c.s
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pairing: coryo x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav / coriolanus snow masterlist
a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!
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You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 
"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.
"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.
"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.
"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.
"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"
"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.
"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"
"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."
"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.
At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.
Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.
These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.
Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.
"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.
"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.
"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."
Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.
"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.
"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.
"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."
"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.
The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.
"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."
Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.
Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.
You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.
You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.
Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.
"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.
As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."
He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"
He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.
"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.
He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.
Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."
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alllgator-blood · 7 months ago
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I s2g if you add the layers of these comic pages together, it's over 350 layers. THIS is why I don't do full color for my comics lmaooo- ANYWAY EVERYONE HERE HAS AN AU APPARENTLY, SO THIS IS A BRIEF GLIMPSE INTO MINE. I don't know what to call it yet but I'm thinking of calling it "famous prophets" because 1. I like that car seat headrest song, 2. it's about shamura who is prophetic, 3. it's about trying to outrun fate with the Power of Love (and failing. Like the song!!!). It takes place when all the bishops were teens/kids during the age of hundreds of gods at war, and were trying to survive as a family.
I'm really excited to work on stuff for it but it's all gonna be drawn out of order. Maybe I'll write a full explanation of what it's gonna be about when I have a better idea...I want to channel my eldest sibling angst in a productive way, and maybe establish a QPP between shamura and a completely random npc everyone forgets about <3 also kallamar is trans too cause I said so. I'll do a comic about it eventually. Instead of an absence of gender he has TOO much gender. It simply cannot be contained.
I like that nonbinary genders are normalized in cult of the lamb to the point where nobody singles anyone out for being a they/them, it's not like "THIS IS MY SIBLING SHAMURA. THEY ARE NONBINARY AND USE THEY/THEM. ALRIGHT BACK TO KILLING YOU", it's just like "don't you fucking dare make my poor sibling wake up from their nap to kick your ass. Cause they deserve better than this."
But at the same time I like having the freedom to be more specific, and say "shamura is voidpunk and their gender is best described as the feeling that overtakes you during the first snow of the year, when everything outside is deathly quiet". This comic is actually derived from the time I was walking through a forest that's been torn down for a few years, and came out to my little sister as trans. I must've been like 13 or 14 and she didn't really get it as a 10 year old, but it was better than my mom FREAKING OUT about me coming out. So it was a nice little bonding moment between just the two of us. I don't have a good memory so I don't recall how it went unfortunately...
Now, the climate is a little different. My sis tried out transmasculinity for maybe 5-6 years before feeling happier as a woman, my mom is trying to be Based and flaunt her Woke trans children, and my dad remembered "oh yeah trans natives have existed before colonization. Maybe me being transphobic is a product of my culture being erased" and has gotten better about calling me the right thing. I have a mustache (thanks pcos!!) and wear skirts and am not a repressed "tomboy" teenager anymore. But I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I could've been like shamura and just...been nonbinary without people being fucking weird about it. Or been born as a badass war god who will tear you to shreds before you can perceive my birth sex. I know they're fictional but they are my ultimate gender envy GRRRRR BARK BARK BARK
Here is the secret image for this post- I listen to mostly EDM when I draw cause it keeps the energy up, but as I was finishing up shamura's poetry part, I was like THESE ARE JUST KMFDM LYRICS so I made this
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myokk · 17 days ago
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fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘
I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶
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Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.
It makes sense, really.
He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.
His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?
He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.
As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.
His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)
First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.
Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.
He is entirely too introspective, after all.
It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.
And yet he is. Terribly surprised.
Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.
Rosalie Harris.
The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.
The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.
“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”
“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.
He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.
Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.
Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.
His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.
(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)
Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -
“Ominis?”
Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.
Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?
Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.
Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.
Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.
“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.
And, she does not seem to leave him alone.
Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?
(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)
“I was looking for you.”
Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -
“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”
“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.
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jhkfan123 · 9 months ago
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after last night | coriolanus snow
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pairing: academy!snow x fem!academy!reader
in which: after a drunken night at the club, which resulted in you dancing with your distant classmate coriolanus in ways you probably shouldn't have, the two of you are assigned to a project together.
warnings: none
wc: 2.1k
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you couldn't remember some of the previous night. it was definitely a poor choice, going out to the capitol clubs on a sunday night. you were fully aware you had school the next morning, but you were socially deprived. you and your girls hit up all the best places to party, but they had all left before you. which left you talking to coriolanus snow. it was one thing you definitely could remember. he was a fellow member of the academy you had never really spoken too.
until last night, at least. you remember what felt like hours of chatter at a high bar table. then you remember a short period of time on the dance floor. but a short period of time was all you needed. when you woke up you immediately felt some sort of regret for the way you danced with him. you barely knew him! the experience was exhilarating, being at the club by yourself. but you weren't by yourself the whole night.
coriolanus had fended off multiple strange men from you. you definitely remembered that. the one flaw of going to a club by yourself. being approached by men twice your age willing to by your a drink for a dance.
while nothing more had gone on besides the dancing, you couldn't help but get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when you thought of him this morning. you decided to push it down. you were too drunk last night to have had anything real with this isolated classmate.
you had noticed him throughout the years. he had stuck with a very select group of people during his time at the academy. and you weren't one of those people. arachne crane, clemensia dovecote, festus creed, people you couldn't care less to associate with. you had stuck with your group, and he had stuck with his. so when he approached you last night, it had taken you a second to pinpoint where you recognized his defined face from.
he had approached you and signaled you with your first name, which you were surprised to find out he actually remembered. he had approached you pretty cautiously, but became slightly more open as the night went on. clearly you had been the only person he recognized. you wondered if he was there alone, or had been there with others like you had. maybe they ditched him too.
you replayed last night, well, the bits you could remember of it anyway, in your head while getting ready for school. being drowned in assignments as you had been, you yearned for a social night. and you definitely got it. but you were now paying the price. a horrible hangover mixed with the requirement of attending the academy looked like the setup for a horrible day. you slipped on the final touches of your outfit and headed out the door.
it wasn't until you were in the driver's car and on the way to school that you realized today was the day you were to be assigned a major project, by your head professor. you audible groaned as the reminder entered your head.
your driver let out with only a few minutes to get to your first class. you rushed through the crowded hallways and just managed to take your seat as the bell rang. you had to remind yourself to take the day one class at a time, and soon enough, it would be over.
you had made it through your first class. one more class before lunch, you reminded yourself. you pushed through the hallway and made sure to get to class early to claim your unassigned assigned seat. recently a girl had been attempting to steal it. you managed to walk in just before her and sit in your favorite spot. you saw a look of defeat in her eyes. you couldn't help but break into a grin. this daily competition had added some sort of excitement into your school life.
the teacher walked in as the final students rushed to their seats. you searched through your book bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of homework that was due today. without saying a word, she began walking around to collect it. you handed it to her and she moved on. she returned back to her desk and cleared her throat.
"class, today is the start of a new project. it will be done with partners and it will be due in three days. you will have the opportunity to work on it in class as well as at home. for this project, you must present on the topic of: why we need the hunger games. as you all know, the tenth annual hunger games is approaching at a rapid rate. " you looked as a few girls looked at eachtogether, eager to be partners. the closest friend you had in that class, lysistrata vickers, glanced at you. you were excited to be partners with her.
"now, i'll read off the partner pairings." you heard a collective groan throughout the class. your teacher had no idea who was friends, and who wasn't. she wasn't much for noticing. so that meant you could be paired with literally anyone. you held your breath, hoping for someone you were familiar with.
your name still had not been called as she continued calling pairs. most of your friends had already been paired up. you were disappointed. the project would be unbearable with someone you didn't know.
"...and finally, y/n and coriolanus. please get into your pairs everybody, and discuss your plan. i'll be walking around to hear your ideas." you had zoned out, but when your name was called, paired with the man you had danced with last night, you definitely focused back in. really? out of all the possible options for partners you had to be paired with snow?
you weren't dissapointed because you hated him. quite the opposite actually. you had found him very charming last night, very nice. but even you recognized the tension between the two of you that had risen quickly last night. you barely knew him, but you felt like you needed to be with him. spend more time with him. so, in actuality, this was quite exciting. but you had no idea how he felt. so you would rather run away from this. not be partnered with him.
you looked around and searched for him. he was sat above you in the room, and diagonal. when you found him, you met his gaze. clearly he had already found where you were sitting. you nodded at him with a smile. you noticed as everyone shifted around the room to their partners. he signaled for you to come to him, so you grabbed what you needed and made your way up the small set of stairs between rows. the boy next to him had already gotten up, so there was a free seat waiting for you. you realized you were holding your breath as you approached him.
"hi, coriolanus," you took a seat besides him.
"coryo, please." he pleaded. you nodded. that name felt much more familiar. he had asked you to call him coryo last night too. you chose coriolanus today just in case.
"right. coryo," you noticed a shift in his body language when you said his name. "how do we even approach this?" you looked to him for an answer, but you only found him looking right back at you. when you gestured with your hand for an answer, he focused back in.
"right, um. let's just start with bullet points." he suggested. you nodded. he looked down to put his pen on his paper, then stopped. he tapped his pen a few times, blank with ideas. he finally put the pen down.
"this project is stupid." you whispered under your breath. you leaned in closer so he could hear you better, which clearly affected him.
"hunger games is coming up. i wouldn't expect anything less." he responded, nonchalantly. you felt the elephant in the room getting more and more prominent as the conversation went on. you had to talk about it or else it would get more and more uncomfortable.
"so, last night was fun." it was all you could think of. a simple statement but one that was clear to the point. he cleared his throat.
"it certainly was." he responded. you could have sworn you saw a smile creep up on one side of his mouth. you thought about all the times the two of you were closer to each other then you should have been while dancing. clearly he had been thinking about it too.
"i didn't know you could dance like that." you spoke. he truly was a great dancer. you picked up the pen he had put down and began to spin it.
"thanks. you danced well too." what he meant was you danced in ways you shouldn't. that you could be sure off.
"thanks. no but seriously. last night was so much fun. i really enjoyed..spending time with you." you couldn't handle this tension much longer. he had sort of hinted at the fact that he had also enjoyed last night, but barely.
you dropped the issue and attempted to work with him for the remainder of the class period. you had to admit it was difficult. you weren't sure wether to be happy or disappointed when you were dismissed by your professor. you began to pack up when he spoke again.
"hey, meet me in the library?" he asked. you froze for a moment. then you quickly accepted his invite. "see you in ten." he finished packing up and left. you quickly attempted to follow behind him but he was lost in the sea of people by the time you exited the class. you didn't feel like eating, so you headed straight for the library.
when you arrived, you noticed it was empty. typical. nobody spent their lunch time in the library. he had said ten minutes so you assumed he wouldn't be here for a while. you plopped your book bag down on the table you had claimed and began to look around.
a few minutes later you had made your way to the back of the library in the section that you thought would help you the most with your project. you scoured for anything useful in the shelves but there wasn't much. you were about to give up until you heard a familiar voice behind you.
"find anything useful?" you heard. you turned around to face coriolanus. he had ditched his bag and had clearly tracked you down to this section.
"barely. doesn't look like any of these have been touched in several years." you pointed to the visible dust on the shelf. he laughed. it was a rare occasion, you had found.
"i'm sure they haven't. i bet they haven't assigned anything like this before." he pulled different books out but ended up putting each one back. you turned your back to the book in order to face him.
"why won't you talk about last night?" you were fed up at this point. the elephant in the room kept getting more visible and he was still ignoring it.
"do you want to talk about last night?" he responded, nonchalantly.
"it happened.." you said.
"believe me, i know." he once again responded with little feeling. you scoffed at his non-answer. he clearly noticed. "i'm not saying i didn't love every part of last night." he clarified. he pinned your hand to the shelf as he placed his hand atop yours. you had now backed as far up as you could without hitting the shelf.
"you did?" you began to panic slightly. he had trapped you in this position.
"i did. and i can already tell you did too." he affirmed. you looked down and thought. clearly he wanted the same thing you did.
"so then what are we doing?" you asked. but you didn't want words as his response, you wanted actions. and he delivered. a few seconds after you asked the question, his lips were on yours. he had started off soft but you pushed for more. he obliged and became more intense with each kiss. after a few moment you let go. you had become flustered. he took a breath before saying anything.
"i hope you know i'm never letting you dance the way you did with anyone else now." you smiled at him. he was everything you wanted and more.
maybe going out on a sunday night wasn't the worst idea.
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"after last night (after last night) i think i'm in love with you"
"woke up and i can't get you out of my head"
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tags: @qalijahbydior
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lokilaufeysonslove · 14 days ago
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𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬
𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝!𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝!𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
// Summary // your parents were never kind and sweet type of people, but in your sixth year things got out of hand. To put a cherry on top, a certain platinum blond haired Slytherin Prince decided to be Sherlock Holmes and found out your secrets, ones nobody is supposed to know.
// Warnings // mentions of violence, both physical and verbal violence, abusive parents, bullying, hate towards reader, ignorance, name calling (shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time), reader has a backstory.
// Author's Note // please pay attention to warnings! This is enemies to lovers. Also, I have mentioned once that reader is 16, but for the sake of this plot, since every sixth year is 16. Also, I added a last name for the reader, but not the name, since it would be an OC in that case. I needed a pureblood last name. This is a part three, please read part one and two first! / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @talesfromthecrypts
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 in progress
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It was a rainy morning. Every drop of rain felt like salty tears that would roll down one’s face until it would fall to the ground; every roar of thunder sounded like screams of a person who was in pain; every crack of lightning looked like horrible scars that eventually fade away, but always stay in your head.
Sun was nowhere in sight. Instead of warm, comforting and welcoming giant lit ball, clouds covered the sky, clouds that once were fluffy and white like snow, now cold, grey, empty, putting everyone in a grumpy mood. It was as if nature knew about the nearing dark times.
As much as you would love to stay in bed, stare at the ceiling and think about nothing, you had class to attend, and skipping classes wasn’t very smart choice. You rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. Your roommates were still asleep, so you tiptoed around, trying to keep as quiet as possible.
Walking into the bathroom, mirror was the first thing you saw, hanging above the sink. You looked at your reflection and sighed deeply. Memories of last night flooded your mind and suddenly you felt nauseous. You leaned on the sink for support, your hands gripping either side of it and your head hanging lowly. You wanted to forget everything, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t get them out of your head, as if someone put it on replay. You shut your eyes and just stood there for a few seconds. A single tear escaped your eye and rolled down your cheek. You didn’t bother wiping it away though. You watched in the mirror as it neared your chin and then fell on the floor. You sniffled quietly and turned on the cold water, splashing some on your face in order to clear your mind.
When you were finished there, you stepped out of the bathroom door and back inside your sleeping area. To your luck, your roommates were still asleep. You quickly changed into your robes and silently opened the door, praying it wouldn’t make a cracking noise. You sneaked down the stairs and headed out of Gryffindor common room.
It was pretty early in the morning, Great Hall was mostly empty, only very few students were sitting here and there.
Sighing, you walked towards your house table and sat down quietly. The breakfast was laying in front of you, its delicious smell making it impossible for you to not look at it, but you didn’t have an appetite. Your appetite depended on your mood and right now you were in a terrible mood. Not that it was unexpected, anyway. After all, what sane person would be in a good mood if what happened to you yesterday, happened to them?! You were scared. What if he would tell someone, let alone everyone?! No live being on Earth was supposed to know about your horrible secret.
Draco was not the best person. Not for you, at least. The guy decided to be your sworn enemy on the day you met and has successfully been one since then. He was always cold towards you, embarrassing you mercilessly in front of the whole school. He would always bring you down or make fun of you, insult you and even cast some unpleasant spells on you. He was always so loud and annoying, making his presence known every time he would enter the room. That’s why you were confused when you noticed major changes in the Slytherin Prince.
What confused you even more was that yesterday, when he was angry, you saw something else in his eyes, something you had never seen before. Was it fear? Did he fear that you would actually die? Not that he would lose you or anything. He couldn’t lose what he never had; or was it- no, it couldn’t be. He is Draco Lucius Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake! He hates you, silly! You scolded yourself and shook yourself out of your stupid thoughts. But you were still curious. You wanted to know how he felt. What did he think of you, of your parents. What was he doing now?
As if on cue, the said platinum blond haired boy appeared in the hallway. Entering the Great Hall, he immediately looked at you, but you were already looking at your plate of food, picking on your now-cold egg with the silver fork, pretending to be eating. He sighed quietly, the sound coming out almost inaudible. Even when he was already sitting at the Slytherin table, you could feel his intense stare burning your face. And the fact that your front was facing him didn’t help at all, quite the opposite actually; you couldn’t look up, because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to avoid making eye contact with him, and that was the last thing you wanted.
Draco, on the other hand, wanted you to look up, he wanted you to look at him. Why, he didn’t know either. Maybe he just wanted to see the look in your eyes, he wanted to know how you would look at him. Would it be disgust? Or hate? Maybe annoyance. Perhaps fatigue. But what if it was exhaustion, loneliness? What if you just needed help? He scoffed at himself; why would you ask help from him? Why would you even consider that he would help you?
He was so deep in thoughts, he didn’t even notice when did Zabini and Goyle walk in, followed by the Golden trio shortly after. All of them were equally confused. Scene was confusing, indeed; the Slytherin Prince was staring at his rival Gryffindor, his eyes begging for you to look up, but you were avoiding him on purpose. The two Slytherins didn’t understand why was he staring at you, but the trio didn’t understand why was he staring at you.
When he realized that he was caught, he quickly looked away from you and down his breakfast. Taking fork in his hand, he cleared his throat and started eating. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron and Hermione approached you. Hermione sat right next to you, Harry and Ron directly across from the two of you. Hermione smiled brightly at you, trying not to show how curious she was about you and Draco. “Good morning, Y/n! How are you?”
You also smiled at her, although with force, you hoped they wouldn’t notice, "I'm fine. What time is it?" You sneakily changed the subject, "I don’t want to be late for class."
Harry understood your intent but said nothing, “Don't worry, you won't be late. We have Potions too." Hermione tried to sneak in, “Well, Malfoy was looking at you a bit strangely. Did something happen?” Yes, something happened, very bad thing happened, you thought to yourself, but then you faked a scoff, “Not that I know of. I mean, he’s Malfoy.” His last name came out of your mouth sharply, as if it were a venomous thing, not someone’s last name.
Hermione nodded her head, seemingly buying it. One thing about you; you were an excellent actress. Standing up, you looked down at the three Gryffindors. As much as you didn’t want to be with anyone else right now, you couldn’t shrug them off now when you had the same class, “Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s go to Potions.” They all nodded their heads and followed you.
On the way to the dungeons you were practically following behind the three like a lost puppy, but you didn’t seem to care, you didn’t even pay attention to their dialogues, you didn’t know what they were saying, maybe they were talking to you, maybe they weren’t, who knows.
You finally got to the classroom and sat down at one desk in the side of your house, Hermione sat next to you, as expected, with Harry and Ron sitting behind you. Snape was nowhere in sight. Of course, you scoffed to yourself, the bastard had to barge in for special effect and then start being a total bitch, not that he ever stopped anyway. And now he would start throwing random ass insults at every Gryffindor, which were not necessary at all. But, of course, he had to attack you first, because you were a filthy blood traitor. You rolled your eyes at the thought and looked down at your unopened book.
“Psst, Potter, Potter!” Malfoy. Of-fucking-course! Snape was not there, so he just had to seize the moment, “Saw you talking to that lunatic last night, like her or something?” Parkinson snorted at that, Zabini smirked and Goyle started laughing. Harry glared at him, rolled his eyes and mumbled a “Shut up Malfoy”.
Ron furrowed his brows and leaned towards him “Who did he mean by that?” Harry looked at his best friend and shook his head “Dumbledore sent me to Professor Trelawney yesterday evening, to tell her something”. Ron nodded his head and just as he was about to say something, the doors of Snape’s chambers bursted open and in walked the said man himself. You shook your head at his dramatic antics; barging in with his cloak floating, swinging his greasy hair back. You rolled your eyes, at this point, god knows how many times you have rolled your eyes that day.
“Students, we have a very important lesson today,” he started, with his monotonous voice, looked around the class, making the pause even more dramatic, and then “Dueling.”
There were groans from Gryffindors and excited noises from Slytherins. Pansy and Goyle had that sickening smiles across their faces, the kind of smile that makes you want to throw up.
Snape wasted no time and started naming people “Mister Weasley and Mister Zabini”.
Ron grunted silently, but stood up nonetheless. The two students climbed on the dueling podium, positioned and waited for professor to give them a sign to start. As soon as they got a nod of approval from Snape, Zabini shot a disarming spell towards Ron, which he blocked with 'Protego'. Then Ron threw a 'Locomotor Mortis' which glued Zabini’s legs together, but before he could fall, he shouted 'Rictusempra' which caused Ron to laugh uncontrollably.
“Enough.” Snape ended their duel and looked around the class. Ron and Zabini nodded at each other, by force of course, and sat back down at their desks.
“Miss Parkinson.” Snape announced next, “who wants to compete with Miss Parkinson?” But it was not a question for students to answer, “Miss Granger.”
Hermione stood up, a little nervous, and walked up to the girl. Snape nodded and they started dueling. Hermione shot 'Tarantalegra' towards Pansy, which made her start dancing. Pansy, shouted 'Expelliarmus' which successfully disarmed Hermione.
Suddenly, Snape raised his hand, stopping both of them in their tracks.
“Sit down.” He said with his cold voice. The two girls sat down and looked at Snape, "What you are doing is the bare minimum. You're not doing enough. I need the best you can do.” Snape made a little pause before speaking up again, "Now, do any of you want to come forward?”
Goyle’s hand immediately shot up. Snape glanced at him, "Okay,” he hummed to himself before announcing, "Mister Goyle."
Goyle stood up and walked in the middle of the classroom, climbing up the podium and facing the class.
"Who wants to compete with Mister Goyle?”
Silence.
Snape glanced at the Gryffindors sitting in front of him, and scoffed “Nobody?” he asked, rather amused than disappointed.
“Miss.. Armand.” You looked at him with a disgust stretched across your face. Pairing was very unfair.
Goyle was one of the very few dangerous, merciless students. He was very good at Dark Arts and dueling. He was large and muscular compared to you. It was even funny, seeing you and him fight against each other, since he was practically towering over you.
Snape gave the two of you a sign to start, but you didn't start immediately like others did. You observed each other for a few seconds.
Goyle shot non-verbal disarming spell towards you, but you blocked his spell with non-verbal shielding charm almost immediately. Goyle was always fighting sneaky fight, he would not say anything out loud. He would do anything and everything to appear more 'impressive'.
He shot 'Stupefy' towards you, but you easily blocked it with 'Ennervate'. You never attacked first. For the first few moments of dueling, you would only defend yourself and make it seem like you were not strong enough, and when your opponent would run out of spells or get even tiny bit tired, you would attack with your full force.
Goyle sent another 'Stupefy' towards you, but you did a backflip and successfully avoided the spell. You, then shot a non-verbal curse which momentarily blinded Goyle.
It was a curse that very few people knew of, almost a secret, that you found in one of the dark books your parents’ kept in their library. A curse that temporarily blinds the opponent and causes a white, blinding light to fill the victim's vision, rendering them sightless for a short period of time, causing confusion and disorientation in its targets.
You used his distraction for your advantage and moved behind him. When he was able to see again, you waited for him to turn around, and when he did, you shot a 'Flipendo' that knocked him backwards.
One more thing about you, you would never attack from behind.
When he gained his strength and stood back up, he shot a non-verbal 'Expelliarmus' which somehow disarmed you. The whole class gasped and Goyle smirked in victory, but little did he know that you let him disarm yourself on purpose. Gregory aimed his wand at you, but before he could even think of a spell, you sent a non-verbal, wandless 'Funnuculus' which made his skin boil. He dropped his wand in agony and you immediately summoned it by a simple 'Accio', holding it to his throat.
"Do you surrender?” You asked, digging his wand in his throat deeper.
Goyle gulped before squealing out a yes. You removed his wand from his throat and returned it to him.
The whole class was shocked. Even Snape. You looked at him, nodded to Goyle and went back to your seat.
“The lesson is over.” Snape announced suddenly. He looked as if lightning just struck him.
As soon as you heard his words, you stood up and marched to the exit.
Draco, on the other hand, was frozen, he couldn’t move. Never in the hundred years would he have imagined you were this strong. For some unknown reason, he wanted to run after you and ask if you were okay.
He didn’t know what was happening to him, but suddenly he cared for you. In reality, he actually liked you since the very beginning, but he didn’t know it himself. Not yet at least.
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hl-obsessed · 3 months ago
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✨ FIC REC ✨ | 10-30k
•°•°•°•°•°•
Snowed In by @germericangirl
(E, 15k) Harry wants to fly back home to London after visiting his family for the holidays but a snow storm causes his flight to get cancelled. What happens if the hotel only has one room left for him and the beautiful blue eyed stranger?
✨ Running Home To You by sincewewereeighteen
(E, 18k) Harry can’t help but look at his iTunes library. What he did not expect was to see his name there: Harry Styles, and a half-played album. He has to ask.
“What’s that you were listening to?”
“Oh, it’s this guy, uh- Harry Styles?”
“Hm. Is he any good? I’ve heard a lot about him.”
“He’s proper famous, isn’t he?” Louis smirks. “He’s good, believe it or not. Many people don’t give credit to teenage girls, but I don’t regret listening to him.”
“D’you have a favorite?”
“You’ve probably heard Sign of the Times, because everyone’s heard this song…” Louis checks his screen. “Don’t know. This is the best one musically speaking. But there’s something about this one,” he points at his screen, “From the Dining Table. It’s just so sad. Makes one wonder what this guy went through.”
“That tough?”
“Sad.” Louis replies. “Anyways. Don’t be prejudiced and give the pop star a listen. He’s really talented.”
OR: the one in which Harry and Louis take the same plane, and even though they're both sort of nomads, they end up finding a home in each other.
give you my fever by @thelovejandles
(E, 10k) x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first
If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night) by @fallinglikethis @all-these-larrythings
(M, 15k) Louis accepts the call without bothering to look at the caller ID. Only Zayn would be a big enough asshole to call him at two in the morning. This fucking better be important.
“This fucking better be important,” Louis greets.
On the other end of the line comes a soft giggle. “Li, you don’t usually curse. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like it.”
 Yeah, that’s not Zayn. Louis sighs, his anger melting into resignation when he realizes that it’s some poor bastard probably drunk dialing his ex or something. “Sorry, mate. Think you’ve got the wrong number."
Based on this Tumblr prompt: "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au"
sweet, where you lay by @infinitelymint
(E, 27k) Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-eight year old succesful actor living in New York. Harry Styles is a twenty year old up and coming model and coincidentally also the one who turns Louis’ world completely upside down.
or, Louis is Zachary Quinto and Harry is Miles McMillan. Falling in love was always in the cards for them.
stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) by @thedevilinmybrain
(E, 12k) Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.
✨ i'm a captain on a jealous sea by @thedevilinmybrain
(E, 15k) It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.
Except.
What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.
✨ some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(T, 25k) Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.
Back then.
*
Three years after their break up, Harry calls.
In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(T, 13k) It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left.
He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile.
It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received.
Harry: Hello!
Harry: Thank you for swiping right
Harry: I have a proposition for you
Treat You Like A Gentleman by @justanothershadeofblue
(E, 12k) 5 times that Harry Styles was unsatisfied by his dates, and one time Louis Tomlinson helped him find what he had been missing.
Sweet as Honey by TeamLouis
(E, 21k) Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.
✨💎 To Have Touched the Sun by @ireallysawanangel
(E, 12k) Louis has been taking suppressants ever since he first presented as an omega, and because of that, he has his heats dwindled down to just once a year. When he suddenly goes into heat in the middle of a supermarket only two months after just having one, he immediately knows something is wrong. It takes the act of a very kind stranger in that supermarket to change Louis' life forever.
Losing Focus Every Time You Speak by @causticsunshine
(E, 19k) “Harry,” he starts, his tone cautious, “what’s this I’m seeing?”
A roll of Harry’s shoulder and the thing catches the light again. “Hm? I dunno what you’re talking about, Lou,” he replies, voice suddenly strained.
Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be.
“This,” Louis reiterates as clearly as he can—by abruptly spreading Harry’s cheeks as much as he can through the confines of his knickers, in turn causing Harry to grunt and Louis to reveal a, fuck, a small bubblegum-pink gem in the shape of a heart, rimmed by a sliver of silver, “you remember now?”
“Oh.” All faux innocence. Louis removes his hands as Harry slowly pulls himself back up, a little red-faced and with a chunky throw in hand. “That? It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Louis repeats, trying for gentle surprise.
Louis returns from an impromptu work trip and enjoys some long-awaited alone time with his favorite person. Lace knickers and a princess plug might have a role to play in things.
✨💎 Eyes on the Horizon by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
(E, 12k) Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up. His younger and extremely fit instructor Louis makes him even more nervous than the idea of jumping out of a plane, but both may be exactly what he needs to turn his life around.
Waste the Night by @wicked-archer
(E, 12k) Harry is excited to finally see his favourite band in concert and his favourite person, the guitarist of the band, Louis Tomlinson. Little does he know what the night has in store for him.
✨ Prelude to Forever by @always-aqua
(M, 13k) @StylinHarry: So I kinda fell for a boy yesterday at #ChiPride. Kissed & fireworks went off. Literally. He’s a drama teacher. Goes by “Louis” but I prefer Sunshine. Very pretty. The prettiest. Got separated & I’m a fucking idiot who forgot to get his number. Anyone know him? #helpfindsunshine
Or, Louis and Harry meet at Pride in Chicago and spend the day falling for each other before getting accidentally separated.
Be Mine? by @softfonds
(E, 11k) Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it. But a sign Zayn brings manages to turn his night around in more ways than he hoped for.
Blinded by the Colors by @fallinglikethis
(M, 20k) After a heated fight with Harry, a maudlin, inebriated Louis Tomlinson questions his presence in his boyfriend's life. In fact, maybe all of One Direction would be better off if Louis had never been put in the band to begin with.
He never expected to wake up in a world where that's exactly what happened.
Or an It's A Wonderful Life Au where Louis Tomlinson realizes just how important he really is.
✨ Keep Me Closer by @zanniscaramouche
(T, 18k) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.
What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.
Moonlight Minx by @jacaranda-bloom
(E, 15k) The one where an unexpected storm strands Harry on an island, Louis gets an unexpected house guest for the night, and love might just be the most unexpected thing of all.
Love On Air by @jacaranda-bloom
(E, 19k) The one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.
✨ Every heart but mine by @rainblou
(E, 17k) In the years leading up to his presentation, Harry hoped that his soulmark would appear, that his soulmate would present first and Harry would have irrevocable proof that his other half was out there, waiting for him.
Years later, he's given up on waiting and with a heat coming up, his eyes are set on Louis Tomlinson to help him through it.
redamancy by @yu-taeil
(G, 10k) dystopian au.
Harry lives in a world where, at the age of 18, everyone gets paired up with a life mate, a perfectly compatible partner. When Harry gets Liam Payne as his soul mate, he thinks nothing of it. It must be true love, right?
But then he meets Louis Tomlinson, a 19 year old who is already partnered up. Harry starts to fall for Louis, and it is not unrequited, but it is against the law.
Harry had always known he’d end up breaking some rules, he just hadn’t quite imagined the magnitude of them.
Sooner or Later by orphan_account
(T, 12k) Louis suspected he might have a little crush. It was harmless enough. It wasn't as if he were any sort of threat to his sister's relationship with Harry, was it?
✨💎 I Just Wanna Give You Love by @lululawrence
(NR, 18k) Graham Norton appeared on the screen introducing his guests and out of nowhere, everything in Louis’ world was turned upside down.
Louis gasped as he intently took in the man on the screen, smiling and waving from his seat beside Sir Ian McKellen.
“Oh my God,” Louis said before it all sank in as to what it meant. “Holy fucking shit!”
“Louis William, you watch your mouth,” Jay said. “What has got into you?”
Feeling like a madman, his palms to his cheeks, Louis couldn’t help the tears of surprise, relief, and fear as he turned to his mum. “What colour are his eyes? What do you call that colour?”
“Louis, are you telling me that the man on the screen, Harry Styles, is your soulmate?”
Or the one where the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate, but Harry is world famous and Louis is...well...not.
Where Life Changed Us by ExiledQueenCatalog
(E, 22k) Omega Harry has a rare genetic disorder where he has no sense of smell. This has lots of odd effects such as him not being able to smell his own scent but most brutally, not being able to scent the way his inner omega desires. It also leaves him as a sort of odd-ball to the community, leaving him becoming touch starved as no one wants the omega who can’t scent. Until finally, he meets the right alpha.
Hint: I want to be yours by @greenblueish
(M, 11k) or, the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.
'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense
(NR, 26k) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.
We Don't Need No Piece of Paper (From the City Clerk) by @2tiedships2
(M, 26k) Harry sat on his bed and stared at the pile of luggage by the door. This was really happening. He was being shipped off to America to get married.
In a matter of months, he would be bonded to an alpha his father had chosen for him. Someone that Harry knew nothing about. Not even his name.
Party Lines by @absoloutenonsense
(E, 25k) Louis works for a phone-sex operating company, collecting credit card information and transferring calls to different operators. On a particularly busy night, everyone is booked up, and one caller has been patiently waiting for more than a few minutes. In a split second decision –one he’s probably going to regret– Louis picks up the call himself.
*
Or Louis accidentally becomes a phone sex operator.
Losing That Reactive Spark by @crazyupsetter
(E, 11k) Prompt 73: ABO fic where Louis is cursed. He can’t touch anyone without a spark of electricity going through his body, causing him to blackout. He meets Harry, the only one the curse doesn’t work on for some reason.
(Gimme a Solution and) Watch Me Run With It by @lululawrence
(NR, 21k) This second, this minute, this hour, this day... hell, this week the trend was for Harry to feel overwhelmed. He was having a hard time not drowning in all of the responsibilities he had heaped upon himself and it had exhausted him. Beyond that, really. He had gotten to the point where he didn't even remember why he used to be so focused on getting back on stage every night.
Fine. Maybe this trend had been going on for even longer than a week. It might have even been months.
Harry is getting dangerously close to his breaking point, and that is when things start to change, starting with a favorite childhood sweet a member of the touring crew leaves for him in his dressing room.
Catching a Partner by berzerkshires
(M, 25k) This documentary follows the story of two people who fell in love in the last place you'd expect. Louis is a detective at the Boston Police Department investigating a trail of recent murders. Harry is the latest victim who survived an attempted murder and is sent to live at a safe house with Detective Tomlinson as the killer is still at large.
This is their story.
No Place I'd Rather Be by @iamasphodelknox
(E, 29k) Harry's had a crush on his stepfather's friend for six years. A small crush. A tiny crush.
Honestly, if you don't look at Harry's dozens of poems about Louis Tomlinson, the crush is practically infinitesimal. They haven't even had a conversation.
But then a car wreck prompts them to finally have a conversation.
Christmas works its magic, Harry pines, Louis fonds, and they just might make it.
baby shut your mouth and turn me inside out by ballsdeepinjesus
(E, 10k) Harry and Louis meet in a mcdonalds. louis is everything harry needs.
The Joke's Always On The Joker, Baby by @greenfeelings
(M, 16k) It’s all about an anonymous one-night stand that turns Harry and Louis’ lives into a rom-com cliché, provides Liam with the perfect opportunity to finally approach the man of his dreams, and confirms Niall that he’s always right.
Hold You With My Hands Tied by @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 12k) "There’s a club in town called Habit, and they’re looking for a bartender to cover evenings and weekends. No previous experience required."
Harry furrows his brows. He’s never been to Habit, but he certainly knows what type of club it is. BDSM.
It’s not the ideal position for an Omega surely, but beggars can’t be choosers he supposes. He tilts his head to the side. “And they would be ok with an Omega filling that role?”
Janet scans her eyes over the job description before nodding. “Yes, actually it says here Omegas are preferred but not required.”
Harry sighs.
“When do I start?”
(Or the one where Omega Harry loses his bakery job and is forced to take a temporary position bartending at a local BDSM club. It turns out to be not so bad. Especially when he catches the eye of the owner Louis, who also happens to be a gorgeous Alpha).
if you show up there then you know I will too by @harrybirthdaytoya
(M, 11k) Everyone in Louis' life keeps getting married, but he's almost 30 and single. (He's also grumpy about it). Harry sings in a wedding band, and Louis may have a bit of a crush.
I've Always Liked the Fireworks by QuickedWeen
(T, 12k) When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be.
The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.
Hold My Heart by Awriterwrites, phdmama
(E, 14k) Or, the one where famous Louis Tomlinson offers his hand and a lot more to his seat mate on a transatlantic flight.
Torn On The Platform by conscious-ramblings
AU where harry and louis are strangers but they always get the same train to work in the morning and one day harry falls asleep on louis’ shoulder. louis wants to be annoyed because harry just broke a least seven rules of tube conduct but he looks so soft and peaceful that he just lets him sleep and wakes him ever so carefully when it’s his stop. it happens again and again until it becomes a regular thing where louis will let harry snooze and then gently nudge him awake, hand him the cup of coffee he took from him so it wouldn’t slip and spill everywhere and send him off with a “have fun at work, love” and after the tenth time harry isn’t even embarrassed anymore.
Cue changing work schedules, missing each other for the first time in weeks, panicking because “i don’t even know his name, why didn’t i ask for his name”, dramatic waiting on platforms and finally bumping into each other again when they least expect it
✨💎 Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by @insightfulinsomniac
(E, 23k) The day after turning eighteen, Omega Prince Harry is expected to meet with eligible Alpha suitors. It's a day he's been looking forward to all his life, desperate for romance and yearning to find his mate.
What he doesn't expect to find, however, is that he's one half of a historic soul-tied union: a phenomenon last seen over a century ago. Luckily, his future mate is everything he ever dreamed of finding.
But... that's just the problem. Louis makes Harry feel things he's never felt before and has no way to describe. He knows that once they're married, he and Louis are meant to mate, but what that actually entails is a mystery…
Who better to ask about these feelings than his mate-to-be?
AKA: A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.
The way you move for me baby (lights me up like nobody else) by @thechavier
(M, 12k) Those green eyes found him again and he struggled thinking of what to say.
"You look beautiful in that dress" It's what he landed on. (...) "You know I wrote a song back in the day called little black dress?"
He didn't imagine the little spark in his eyes, nor the pleased smirk on his lips, nor the tongue peeking out to wet them.
"Why do you think I chose it for tonight?"
or the rolling stones awards au
Talk Dirty To Me by BriaMaria
(E, 13k) Or the one where Harry is absolutely terrible at dirty talk so he asks his best friend to teach him. And the one where Louis knows it's a catastrophically bad idea but agrees anyway.
Because Sparrows Mate For Life by @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome
(E, 24k) Harry’s tattoo gets done all wrong, and he needs someone to fix it.
Bend Like a Hairpin by @letthemusicmoveyou28
(M, 26k) Or the one where FBI agent Harry Styles screws up in a mission and he has one more chance to save his career. He’s going undercover as a stripper to investigate a strip club suspected of money laundering. There’s just 2 problems: 1) Harry can’t dance, and 2) he might be falling for the club’s owner Louis, who just happens to be the prime suspect.
Celebrity Discount by @loaded-gunn
(T, 27k) Louis fell for Prince Harry when he was ten and Harry was eight and peeked behind the Queen’s elegant gown for his first public appearance—a shy smile and a mess of curls. He fell for him when he caught Lottie putting up a magazine cover of Harry on her wall and all she had to say for herself was, “He’s such a good person, yeah?” and, yeah. He fell for him when Harry gracefully accepted his demotion. He fell for him when Harry came out and stayed out.
tonight's not over (come over and stay) by @adoredontour
(E, 17k) Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?”
Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password.
“No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?”
“Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis.
“Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?”
or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel
where sirens fear to tread by @stylinsoncity
(M, 28k) in the royal line, there are only a select few sirens with the ability to transform into humans once a month. harry is one of those sirens. he mostly sticks to the rules. when he's on land, he reads his books. he buys copious amounts of ice cream. he keeps to himself. that is until he meets a lifeguard named louis working at one of the luxury resorts on St Barts. and unfortunately, harry doesn't know the rules about falling in love at all.
✨💎 When The Stars Come Out by @briannamarguerite
(E, 30k) Louis was about to reassure Harry further when Gemma bounded back over to him, slipping a hand around Louis' waist. Harry’s eyes followed the movement. And then that lip gnaw again. Christ. How was he supposed to survive this weekend?
He turned his attention to Gemma as her palm came to rest right above his heart. Laying it on a bit thick, dear. Or at least that’s what he hoped he’d conveyed with the simple tilt of an eyebrow.
In response, she went up on tiptoes and laid a noisy kiss on the hollow beneath his cheekbone. Louis didn’t take his eyes off Harry, who watched the scene play out with a blank expression. Once Gemma dropped back to the ground, Harry shifted away from them, his gaze dropping to his feet.
[Or the one where Louis pretends to be Gemma's boyfriend for her horrid cousin's wedding but fate is a nasty jerk and throws Harry in his way.]
•°•°•°•°•°•
part 1 (+50k) | part 2 (30-50k)
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rosewine-5 · 1 year ago
Text
Eyes Never Lie
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Coriolanus Snow x b!woc capitol reader
(Contains spoilers for T.B.O.S.&S)
A.N: what the hell is a p.o.v anyways, it bounces from one character to another. I am not the best writer so if you see a spelling mistake/ typo I apologize, I’ll get better.
A.N 2.0 : this might get a part 2 because my mind got one idea, then another and I just RAN with it.
Word Count: 4.2k words (trust me, it was more)
———
When the both of you first met, it just so happened to be your first year at the academy. At the time, you were only acquainted to one person, a nice boy who, despite his riches, was very humble, and dare you say good looking: Sejanus Plinth. He had approached you, making civil conversation, and before long you both discovered the two of you had similar thoughts and opinions, particularly about the capitol.
That was when you first laid eyes on him. The tall blue eyed blonde boy. From the look on his face, anyone could tell he was a little nervous, hell everyone was a bit nervous to be here, being the first day and all. But flexing your hand every 5 seconds is a clear sign you’re about to pass out from fear. That was when you approached him, Sejanus not too far behind.
When he turned to you, his eyes widened a little, shocked someone was looking to make conversation with him. While his eyes went from in between Sejanus and yourself, yours stayed on his face. He kept a calm face, not showing a lot of expression, one free lesson growing up you had mastered.
Even though you were blessed to grow up in the capitol, you never much cared for the people, viewing the other districts almost like animals and not people infuriated you.
But you were good at hiding your expression behind your eyes, and this boy was good at it too. Too good. In fact, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, “Odd, I can usually tell, even guess what people think.” Not him, not Coriolanus Snow, as he introduced himself. You knew of him, just not anything about him other than his family name.
As years went by, it became clear the 3 of you would be close friends, but your feelings for Coriolanus grew deeper than yours for Sejanus. You couldn’t see Sejanus as much as you could Coriolanus, so naturally you would have a deeper connection. The both of you even walked to school most of the time because you lived so close together.
Today you decided to add a couple of beads onto your braids this morning and walked out of the house. After walking a couple of blocks, you spotted Coriolanus just walking outside, and waving to you. “You’re up early.” You said, giving him a short hug which he returned. “I didn’t want to be late.” You rolled your eyes as he said that, “You’ve never been late to class, ever.”
He looked forward, a smirk on his face. “Can’t afford to be late.” He always answered. You looked up at him, his eyes never wavering from the road ahead. “You know why.” He then added, to which you nodded as a reply.
You discovered his true reasoning of why he strived to be top of the class by chance. He had gotten sick as he was walking home, having an uncontrollable coughing fit and fell out on the grass. You refused to let him walk home alone and that was the first time you had seen him so vulnerable. He almost looked embarrassed when you helped him in his home and to his room.
As you helped him out of his jacket, he slowly laid back. You went to get a towel to wipe the blanket of sweat off his forehead. As you came back, he caught your hand. “I’m sorry you had to see this.” He weakly said, returning your attention to him,” Go ahead, laugh at me.” I shook your head, “Why would I? You’re my friend.” You then took the towel and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“I may have been raised capitol, Coriolanus, but I was also raised with a soul. I’d do anything to survive and succeed in this life, who am I to judge you for doing the same thing?”
For a moment the only thing in the room was the sound of his breathing as his hand reached for your hand, and kissed it, before holding it firmly, never looking away from you. You looked in his eyes, and for the first time you could finally see what he was thinking, “Thank you”. You then nodded, not needing him to say a word as you stood up, and kissed his forehead, “Get some rest, Corio, you need it.” As you walked out of the home, you walked in silence.
You felt like a terrible friend, not knowing how much he was going through. But that wasn’t the only reason, your heart soared when his lips kissed your hand. Sure it might have been an innocent gesture, but the way he looked at you made your heart stop for a second. Sometimes you swear he did it on purpose.
During the last academy year, the closer you got to Coriolanus, the more you realized you truly loved him, and sometimes you thought he loved you back. The walks to the academy became slower and somehow his hand always found yours. At one point you had to run to get there on time, earning the both of you harsh stares from Dean Highbottom and smirks from Sejanus.
The both of you also agreed to study together whenever you could, even including Sejanus whenever he was free. There was no doubt in your mind that either you or Coriolanus would be top of the class, and receiving the Plinth Prize. And if you were the one who came out on top, you would give Coriolanus the funds he needed, whatever they would be.
While you two studies for the last test, he smiled when you rolled his eyes. “Alright smartass, you’re going to pass.” You said. Suddenly, he pulled you into his arms, and hugged you tightly.
You then felt his voice break, “Thank you.” He softly said. “You’re my friend, I’d help you with anything.” You said, looking up at him, a smile splitting your face. As you walked to class the next day & took the exam, he had a sly smirk on his face the whole day. Even at lunch he didn’t drop it. “Someone in a real good mood.” Sejanus said, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah, what’s got you in a good mood?” You teasingly asked. “You know.” He said, looking at you, the smirk turning into a smile, which all of your mirrored.
As the two of you walked back home he had a smile on his face again. Confidence. As he stayed close behind you, you stopped when you got to his doorstep. “So, here’s to winning the Plinth Prize tomorrow.” You said, giving him one last hug, which he returned. That was when you lifted your head to look up at him, but he was already looking down at you. Once again, you couldn’t read the thoughts behind his eyes, but you could make a good guess. He only had that similar look when it was just the two of you together: admiration.
“What is it?” You asked, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth. He only shook his head, offered you a smile, finally releasing you from the embrace. “See you tomorrow, Calanthe.” He whispered before going inside. “One day I’ll look up what that name means.” You said to yourself, walking home.
The next day, graduation day. You woke up early to get your makeup on, slicking your edges back, and, to enhance your braids, added a gold charm in the middle. Afterwards you got dressed in the outfit Tigris made for your graduation. She insisted on it and told you she wouldn’t take no for an answer. As you walked to their home, you heard your name being called from behind you. Tigris was waving you down before hugging you excitedly. “Turn around for me!” She said, making you twirl as she admired her work.
As you waited, you saw Grandma’am clip a rose and walk out of her room. “Oh, dearie don’t you look gorgeous.” She said, smiling at you and opening her arms to you. You met her in the middle and gave her a light hug. “Not a gorgeous as you, Grandma’am.” You said, smiling at her kind words. She then walked forward and after an exchange of words, pinned the rose to his vest.
His eyes finally met yours, and then they took in your dress. He walked forward and kissed your hand, a now normal occurrence between the two of you. “Shall we?” He asked, before walking the both of you out the door. As the two of you walked to the academy, you could feel his eyes on you. “You look beautiful.” He said, giving you a smile, and making your heart soar once more.
“And you look dashing today.” You complimented, not missing the red tint on his cheeks. As you two walked up the stairs, his arm looped into yours. “Never missed a class, never been late.” He said to himself. “Corio, you got this.” You said, encouraging him, he offered you a small smile just as a new and familiar voice broke the moment.
“Why Coriolanus Snow.” You saw the small smirk grow on his face. “Clemie.” He said, offering him his other arm. “Hey girl.” She said, nodding to you, and getting a smile in return. “Two girls on your arm, must be your lucky day.” Clemmie teased and making Corio roll his eyes. As she continued to talk, your mind went to the graduation. You were getting more nervous than usual.
Something felt off today, and you didn’t like it.
You didn’t realize you had stayed in a trance until Sejanus walked up beside you, breaking the gaze. “Sejanus, you made it to the reaping for once.” “And you made it to graduation, Festus, we’re both shocked.” After hearing Sejanus’ quips, you went to sit down. You didn’t know why your nerves were acting up, but you couldn’t kick this feeling. “You ok?” You heard a voice ask, Sejanus was standing over you, concern in his eyes. “I’m just nervous about today.” You said, making him nod in response.
“Well, you may be right.” He said, sitting done next to you. That made the hair on the back on your neck stand up. And the look on his face didn’t help either. “What do you mean?” You asked, but getting no answer. Then as the rest of the students sat down, you saw why he was so silent. After it was announced there would be no more Plinth Prize, you looked at Coriolanus, who had a worried expression on his face.
However, when it was announced that the graduates would be mentors of the Hunger Games, that was when you froze, and your mind started to race.
There’s 25 graduates.
There are only 24 tributes.
Someone isn’t getting a tribute.
Going from district to district, started to guess who had a good chance at winning. Your heart broke when one girl, Dill, was pulled out. You stared to wonder if she had been voted so she could die in the arena. When it got to the district 12 female tribute, it was down to you and Coriolanus. His hand found yours and held it tightly, but you didn’t know who was holding on tighter.
“The runt girl from district twelve, she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
And that was when you knew he was the one holding on to you. He squeezed your hand so hard you almost thought he broke it.
The tribute: Lucy Gray, was wearing a colorful dress with a corset top. You had to admit, she was beautiful, and so was her dress. You watched as she put a snake on a girls dress, making you smirk. “I love her already” you thought to yourself. But then your mind suddenly came back to reality, you didn’t have a tribute. What did I do wrong? Did I pass? Did I fail?
The only thing that broke your trance was a voice singing, then another. You saw Lucy Gray stand up, and continue to sing by herself. “YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!” She then screamed. As the rest of the people laughed at her, you and Coriolanus shared a look: I like her.
As the laughter started to die down, one voice spoke up. “If you didn’t receive a tribute, report to Dr. Gaul.” Highbottom’s voice spoke up, and then it was silent. All eyes turned toward you, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and die. Sejanus’ hand found yours, giving you a silent squeeze of encouragement, and Coriolanus’ did the same. You then walked towards the woman, a small smile gracing her face.
“Let’s have a talk, child.” She said, her hand finding your back, leading you away from the hall. You were only able to catch a small glimpse of Coriolanus’ worried expression as you went down the hallway. She started to hum a tune while she led you to her lab. You had never been here, but you always wanted to get a peek. “Guess I got my wish.”
“I’ve been watching you, dear, for a long time.” She said, going further into the room. “Almost the top of your class, but you could never quite get that edge.” Dr. Gaul said, pinching her fingers together. “Why am I here?” You asked, finally finding your voice. Dr. Gaul then raised her eyebrows, and then let out a dark chuckle. “Let me ask you: What do you crave most in this world?”
You sighed, “To survive and thrive in this world.” She nodded, “Good answer.” She said, smiling. “You and your friend, Coriolanus, you two are good friends. Bonds like that build trust, those bonds can help you live as much as they can destroy you.” Dr. Gaul said, going to one of her glass cases in her lab. You didn’t know what the hell was in it, and frankly, you didn’t want to know. “I’ve known President Ravinstill for a long time, and we both live well, and thrive.” She said, putting her hand on your shoulder before looking down at you.
“I see myself in you, child. You thirst for survival, but to thrive you need to reach for power,” that was when she gave you a deadpanned look, “that’s why I pulled you from the games.” Your eyes widened at the realization, and she smiled once more. “You don’t need the Plinth Prize when you got mommy and daddy’s money. Why settle for a housewife when you have the brains of game maker.”
You almost shouted when she finished, “Game maker?” You said, to which she nodded. “You’ve always been a curious child, a strong appetency for knowledge.” Dr. Gaul said, putting her gloved hand under your chin. “You want a look behind the curtain? You wanna know how the puppeteer makes the strings? You need to join the magic show.”
You thought about your options, but you knew this opportunity wouldn’t come around twice. Almost like she knew your answer, Dr. Gaul then took you hand, and led you deeper into her lab.
After talking for hours, you knocked on Coriolanus’ door and it immediately opened to a shocked Tigris. “Where’s Corio?” You asked, after hugging her. It didn’t take long for him to come around the corner and hugged you tightly. “What happened? Did you get hurt?” He asked, but you stopped his hand as he examined your face. “I’m okay. Dr. Gaul just pulled from the competition.” You calmly said, and immediately regretted it, the faces of Tigris and Coriolanus going from worry to shock. “Why?” He asked.
She told me she’d be mentoring me from now on. I’ll be studying under her from now on, as well as continuing my classes.” His eyebrows rose before hugging her again. “That’s great news.” He said, but then I hugged him tighter. “For a moment, I thought my life was done for.” He nodded, and then looked you deep in the eyes. “We will get through this. I promise you.” You left a few minutes later, but before you got down the street, Coriolanus caught you “Hey!” He shouted, making you turn around. He was running towards you, holding out a wrapped cloth.
“I meant to give you this at the graduation, but you were pulled away.” He said. You unwrapped it, and smiled when you saw the flower charm. You smiled and held it tightly. “I meant to get a charm for this one day.” You said, looking up at him. “Guess I beat you to it.” He said, before returning the smile. “Meet me at the train tomorrow. I have a plan on how to get in Lucy Gray’s good graces.” You nodded and went home afterwards.
The next morning you got up early and put your uniform on before walking to the station, where Coriolanus was already talking to Lucy Gray, who saw you walking up to them. “Another mentor?” She suddenly said, turning towards you, pointing a white rose in your direction, obviously a gift from Coriolanus. Smart.
That was when he turned to you, and put an arm around you. “This is Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray, this is my closest friend.” He said, and you gave her a smile. “Another rebel?” She said, looking at you. “If it fits,” you said, shrugging, before leaning closer to her. “ loved the stunt you pulled with the snake by the way.” You added, making her smirk.
The moment was cut short when a peacekeeper nudged her and the male tribute towards a vehicle. “It was lovely to meet you two.” She said, before being led away to the back of a van. You then saw his eyes go to the van, and then it clicked in your head. “Corio, don’t.” You said, but it was too late. He was running toward the van, and you were following close behind him. It finally registered what you just did when he slammed the door behind him and felt the van move, going wherever it was going.
And now here you two were.
In a vehicle.
Full of tributes who were looking at the two of you like lions to lambs. Corio put you beside him, putting you closer to the tribute from 2 and the wall. “Hi.” He said, his voice sounding weak. “You in the wrong cage pretty boy, pretty girl?” The tribute Realer asked, tilting his head to look at you. “This cage is delightful.” He said, and then Reaper went towards Corio, pinning him to the back. You yelped when you were then surrounded by the tributes. “Shit.” You thought.
Somewhere between the exchange between Corio and the other tributes, you felt the truck come to a sudden stop, getting everyone’s attention. That was when you felt the truck start to tilt forward, everyone started to slide down. In one swoop you reached for Lucy’s hand as she reached for yours as Coriolanus wrapped one arm around your waist and your free arm around his shoulders. The three of you were able to hang on to each other as the other tributes began to slide down and out of the van. The three of you followed suit after the harness broke, sending you all tumbling out of the truck.
Lucy slid down first, with you and Corio falling out last. He was able to wrap both of his arms around you before everyone let out groans and curses from falling on rocks. When you were able to look up, you realized exactly where you were: The Capitol Zoo. And if fate couldn’t make it any better, Lucky Flickerman was in front of the pen, with his entourage of cameramen. “You gotta be kidding me.” You said, groaning and leaving you head down, only to be met with a blue shirt.
As you lifted your head, you were face to face with Coriolanus, who, somehow, had managed to keep his hold on you when everyone tumbled out of the van. “You ok?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Yes. Are you ok?” He asked, and you nodded in response. His eyes went to your necklace and the rose charm attached to it, a smile blooming on his face. His hand touched it, “You put it on.” He said in a soft tone & a tender look in his eyes.
As you both smiled at each other, you felt one hand go to your cheek and to then the other to your waist. The rest of Panem melted away as his breath hit your face. You forgot about being in the capitol, being Gaul’s student, and the tributes around you as you looked in between his eyes and his lips. “Calanthe.” He whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. That was until the voice of Flickerman broke the moment. “Are those academy students?” He said, and the both of you looked up to see the camera pointed directly at you.
“You guys ok?” Lucy asked, walking up to the both of you. “Yeah, you?” You asked, getting off of Corio and helping him up. The three of you looked around, and sighed. That’s when you began to brainstorm: how could you get out of this without getting expelled? “We gotta get them to love her.” You said to yourself. You then brought your necklace to the front of your shirt before unbuttoning the top button, making the rose charm more visible. “We give them what they want: a performance.” You then walked to Lucy and began to smooth out her hair while Corio broke the white rose and tucked it behind her ear.
He then put her hand out for Lucy to take, which she accepted. He then turned and opened his arm towards you, making you raise your eyebrows. “Trust me.” He whispered, and Lucy nodded towards his arm, and that’s how you found yourself being next to him as he presented Lucy to a pair of children at the cage.
You weren’t only shocked of how he fell into the role of a mentor, but how Lucy played her part as a tribute. She had a smile on her face when she talked to the children, and a calm expression when Flickerman approached and interviewed her. You couldn’t help but smile as she talked about her dress and where she was from. The Covey sounded like it was a homely group of people. You couldn’t help but picture how the nature of district 12 looked.
That was when Lucky Flickerman turned towards you. “And who might this lovely lady be? Are you also her mentor?” He asked, the camera’s filling the microphone as it was put in front of you. An innocent smile grew on your face as you shifted your tone into a kind voice, while still having a serious edge to it. “No sir, I’m taking courses from Dr. Gaul instead of being a mentor in the games. I’m here to support my dear friend, Coriolanus Snow.” You said, smiling up at him, which he responded by squeezing you closer to him. “You both seem pretty close for dear friends. How long have you known each other?” Flickerman asked, moving the microphone to Coriolanus.
“Since the first day we went to the academy. She approached me, and we’ve been close ever since. I’ve never known a more intelligent and alluring woman.” He said, and your eyes did a double take at his choice of words. Before you could answer, peacekeepers walked in and escorted you out of the cage. “I’ll come back later.” You said to Lucy Gray, holding her hand for a moment before you were taken away, Corio coming out a minute later. As the both of you walked back to class, you kept looking up at Coriolanus.
“On a scale of one to expelled, how fucked do you think we are?” You asked, making him chuckle. “He wanted us to make them spectacles, he never said how we had to do it.” He said, nudging your shoulder, making you huff out a short laugh. You then took his hand and gripped it tight, which he reciprocated. “To survive and thrive.” You said, walking closer to the classroom. “We will survive these games,” Coriolanus softly said, before stopping you, and making you look up at him. “I promise you.”
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK
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pelova4president · 3 months ago
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Ice Ice baby
Vicky Lopez x WinterAthlete!Reader
summary~ You get swept off your feet by a cute girl on the slopes in Spain
!warning! not proof read
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It was weird how Barcelona stargirl Vicky Lopez was here, watching you perform in the winter olympics. A few months ago you never would have thought she was here for you.
You had met the Spanish girl on a snowboarding trip to Andorra. It had been one of your training locations for years. It wasn’t exactly the time of the year for tourists so it surprised you to see a whole squad of amateur skiers and snowboarders on the slope.
Your trainer had planned a location for you to train but it was rudely disturbed by one of those amateur skiers. She went faster and faster and eventually couldn’t control her direction anymore. You saw the girl sliding towards you and before you knew it her ski helmet was hovering above yours.
“Oh my god, i’m so sorry. I swear i’m a lot better at skiing than this!” she apologised.
“It’s alright, snowboarding is better anyway.” you laughed dryly as you took your helmet off.
Vicky didn’t really move and was still on top of you, staring at your helmet-less face. She thought you were quite cute without on one.
“Uhm so.. i can’t really move to get up since you’re on top of me…” you started as it didn’t really look like she was planning on getting up anytime soon.
“Oh yeah, yeah sorry.” Vicky stammered as she finally got up she offered you her hand.
“I’m Vicky by the way, it’s my second time skiing but i’m sure you could tell.” the spaniard had taken her helmet off and you stared at her moving lips. It wasn’t often that you saw a girl as cute as her on a ski slope.
Your trainer called you as he traveled by.
“I’m y/n, you looked like a true professional, would’ve thought you had been skiing your whole life.” you laughed.
Vicky covered her face with her hands as her cheeks grew even redder from embarrassment. “Maybe skiing is just not for you, it wasn’t really for me anyway. Try snowboarding, next time i see you i’ll try to teach you.” you offered her, hoping to see her again.
Vicky liked the sound of that, seeing you again. Wintersport wasn’t really her thing.
Your relationship developed pretty fast. It was hard not to fall for a girl as beautiful as her.
One day you’re taken out by a cute girl and the next you’re sitting in the lobby of her hotel drinking hot chocolate milk. Fairly early into your relationship you learned she was a professional footballer.
It wasn’t that you didn’t watch other sports than snowboarding, you knew the clubs like Barcelona and Manchester City, you just didn’t really ever get further into football. But now the girl you had a little crush on had told you she played for Barcelona so you had to watch it.
Vicky found it pretty impressive you were a professional footballer, especially at your age. At only 18 years old you had already European Champion on your name.
You met her teammates not long after. It wasn’t really voluntarily though. You happened to be in Spain for a few days and on your day off you took your chance to go and see your ‘friend’ play. You texted Vicky and hour before kick-off and as she walked out you could see her searching for you.
When she finally found you she gave the longer girl with braids next to her a push and pointed towards your section. You could see them talking and it made you nervous.
After the game a sweaty Vicky and a few of her teammates walked towards you.
“Hi snow princess!” Vicky greeted you happily. She moved towards you and went in for a hug.
“Hi stargirl” you whispered back.
Vicky pulled out of the hug and started to introduce you to her teammates. “So this is Cata, she’s a bit crazy and a goalie as you can see. This is Bruna and this is Martina, they’re a bit weird but very funny. And here you have Salma” - Vicky leaned in to whisper in your ear - “She’s a bit scary at first but she’ll warm up to you” - The spanish girl stepped away again and introduced you to the very last one of her teammates she brought to meet you - “The last but very not least, La Reina, Alexia Putellas, the female Messi and our Captain.” Vicky ended.
You didn’t know how to react so you sheepishly waved at the girls in front of you. “And everyone, this is uh- my uh girlfriend, friend that’s a girl.” Vicky said as she looked between you and her teammates.
You don’t know how you got the courage to even talk infront of the most talented female footballers but you did. “I’m y/n, Vicky’s girl-friend as in girlfriend.” you smiled at her.
“Yep, y/n is my girlfriend.” the midfielder said, this time proudly.
With the Olympics coming up you didn’t get to spend much time with your girlfriend. She had a full agenda and so did you. It was hard since the both of you were travelling all the time. You were still 18, so the both of you had to really think about your upcoming careers.
When the Olympics finally arrived and you got to wear the flag of Finland with pride you made the most of it, even if it meant you still couldn’t see your girlfriend.
You tried to face time her every day but it was hard since the games where held in China and she was still in Spain. But even though it was hard to speak to one another she still left you voice notes telling you about her day. And you’d never tell anyone about it, afraid they’ll see you as anything other than an actual ice queen but you listen to those notes before every game. And apparently it brought good luck.
So when you saw Vicky Lopez and two other Barcelona girls sitting in the stands. You wondered how she got here just before the finale. She waved over at you and formed a heart with her hands. You took your helmet partly off and smiled at the tanned girl.
Your girlfriend had begged Alexia to let her watch one of your games. At first she wouldn’t let you, not in the middle of the season. But when she found out how much she missed you from Salma she couldn’t help but feel bad.
Salma and Cata had heard enough of Vicky complaining about how much she missed you and how bad she felt that she couldn’t be there to support you. It really got to them when they catched Vicky looking through her photo albums of you smiling at your pictures together like a lovedrunk idiot.
As you got ready to perform you took another look at Vicky. You had to atleast try to win it, you were no loser. You could do it, for her.
So you got ready for the slopestyle and did what you did best, snowboard. It went by like it never happened, it was like you blacked out, you didn’t remember what you did but you were done. You had completed the slopestyle.
And you had won. You had won gold.
It felt like the media was never ending, the camera’s and microphone kept coming. You just had to find your girlfriend.
Pushing through you finally found her. She had a think coat on, one she was probably forced to wear by her captain.
“My snow princess did it! Olen ylpeä sinusta (I’m proud of you) Vicky whispered into your neck.
You smiled into her and had to stiffle your laugh “You learned some Finnish for me, how romantic.”
“Hey! I thought you’d like it!” Vicky pulled away, she looked a bit offended.
“No no, me gusta.” you kissed her.
Alexia and Salma looked at the two of you from a distance. “Gross, they’re so in love it’s disgusting.” Salma grumbled under her breath.
“Let them be, they’re just teenagers… But if Vicky catches a cold i’ll kill her.” Alexia said.
vickyylopezz._
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liked by aitanabonmati and 147.131 others
my olympic champion 🥇
y/n_y/l/n mi amor ❤️
A/N yet another not proof read fic, i’m just too lazy sorry
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froggy-demon · 2 months ago
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Ford x College Age!Reader (gender neutral)
Please accept this offering Ford lovers, I plan on doing some pre portal ford writing so pleaseee send requests for pre portal ford/stan, also open to (almost) any other asks !! <3
You’re in college for either business or a STEM program, in fact it’s the summer before your senior year of your program
You had been looking for internships to take on over the summer when one of your aunts insisted upon reaching out to a friend of hers from college
“Smart man that Pines, told me he owed me a favor one time and I’m sure he has something for you to work on!”
You were not so sure about shipping out to the middle of Oregon to work for some old college buddy of your Aunt’s, but off you went anyway, it was better for your resume than nothing.
So you had been working at the Mystery Shack
Upon arriving you found that there was in fact two ‘Stan’s, there was the one who actually went by Stan as well as Ford, your Aunt’s actual former classmate.
Stan was very laid back, and he loved having an extra set of cheap hands around the shop even if it meant you were taking up the (formerly wax statue) spare room and drinking all their coffee. You grew on him pretty quickly and you had a very friendly and sarcastic sort of dynamic, it was easy to joke around with him and the two of you were absolutely encourageable
Ford was not so quick to warm up to you it seemed. He was certainly the more serious of the two and always had some experiment to work on or thing to engineer, meaning you also just didn’t spend as much time with him off the bat.
“It’s too easy to get hurt. I can’t exactly send you back home with a broken arm, or worse, I fear your Aunt will trek all the way up here just to wack me on the head!”
That said he did sometimes let you come down to the lab, especially if you played it off by bringing a coffee for him and offered to organize or clean something up (Ford had no motivation in cleaning his horribly chaotic labs, but he did very much enjoy a clean lab when it was possible) and you found yourself sitting at the cash register upstairs just trying to think of excuses to go downstairs more than you’d like to admit.
One afternoon at the shack you were stocking inventory onto the floor while Ford uncharacteristically had been chatting with Stan for quite a while in the gift shop. you’d been stealing glances their way, but Ford’s back was to you anyway, his six fingered hands clasped behind his back as they often were. After the third of fourth time Stan caught you he winked at you, “like what you see?” He teased. Your ears burned when Ford turned to follow where his twin was looking, you turned back to the merchandise in front of you replying sarcastically “yeah these Bigfoot snow globes are pretty cool.” Earning a laugh from Stan and from the corner of your eye you could see Ford smiling at you curiously before going back to their conversation.
Eventually Ford had gone back downstairs and two tour groups later you were still thinking about the way he had look at you. It was ridiculous though, he was supposed to be your mentor this summer and you’d been brought up to date on all the freaky goings ons of last summer when he walked out of a different dimension, not to mention he had a few decades on you. He wasn’t the first older man to have caught your eye, but he was the first you fell so hard for. Given this, while you pretended to read all you could think about was what excuse to give Stan. The sound of the “employees only” entrance into the house caught your attention, you were ready to ask for a coffee break and of course you would be polite and bring one to Ford who always appreciated more coffee. Stan didn’t even give you the chance, “I don’t wanna hear it, you are actually going to work the job you have here today.” He chided, inspecting your stock job. “I have rights you know, you still need to give me breaks, I’ve yet to have one today.” You’d defend. “This is not how you get a glowing letter of recommendation.” He grumbled checking shelves for dust that wasn’t there. “Isn’t Ford supposed to write that?” You quirked an eyebrow at his assessment of the store, he is not normally so picky. “Fucking- Fine I guess so, is that why you want to go kiss his ass right now?” The older man asked walking back over to you at the cash register, evidently satisfied with the store. His arms were crossed over his chest, now he was assessing you, clearly he could tell you were working an angle, but couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. You took the excuse, hopping out of your seat. “Yup! Thank you Stan!” You said walking past him. “For what?” He asked. “For the rest of the day off!” And you disappeared through the door he had just come through before he could argue. Quickly you went to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee and before long had poured two cups just the way you each liked them. You quietly walked down the staircase carefully not to disturb the scientist prematurely, a knot building in your stomach, some mix of anxiety and excitement. Ford always mumbled to himself while working, something you honestly found kinda charming, but it also made it easy to know which room he was in if you just listened for his low voice. “Dr. Ford?” You called out as you approached the open door. You had called him ‘Dr. Ford’ the first time you met him and he had lit up at the title ‘Dr. Ford, I like that’ he had said with a smile, it always pulled a small smile to his lips to hear you call him like that.
Three doctorates and only one person he knows uses his proper title! He certainly wasn’t going to stop you, especially when you always said it so sweetly, it almost sounded like a compliment the way you said it and it definitely boosted his ego like one. He liked that about you, you may have seemed friendlier with Stan, but never sweet like you are with him. “Come in, come in” he called, glancing quickly towards you before continuing writing. “I was making myself fresh coffee and thought you might like one as well?” You offered holding one mug out to him. He placed his pen on his page closing the journal to take the mug from you as you walked in. Taking a sip his smile widened, “two sugars, perfect, thank you.” He said. Your coffee always tasted better than his, sometimes he’s even put off getting himself a fresh one in hope you would offer instead.
He watched you walk over to the seat on the opposite side of the table and sit down with your own mug, his eyes clung to the curve of your silhouette for longer than they should. Internally he chastised himself for even wanting to look at you that way, some your age—it wasn’t appropriate, but the guilt still never stopped him. “Is there anything else I can help with?” You asked, looking around the room. Ford forced him mind to push out the thought of something you could help him with. “Well,” he paused to clear his throat, “I’m not sure if there is much to be done today. Just boring data entry.” Your mouth formed a small frown at his words, still not looking back at him as you anxious tapped your mug. “What about your glassware, I’d be happy to clean and sanitize them, I know it can be a pain.” You offered, acutely aware that you didn’t actually see any dirty lab equipment, maybe he was hiding it all in one room like a kid after being told to clean up. Ford had already done that though, he seemed easily distracted today so his focus had been on tasks that didn’t necessarily require full mental effort like cleaning the glassware and simple data entry. His eyes dwelled on your mouth when you bit your lip at this news, all your usual tasks had been done already, “Well, is it okay if I just read down here then? I like the quiet.” You asked softly trying to ignore the light blush you could feel dusting your face. He nodded, unsure of why you wanted to, but happy to accommodate, especially if it meant his got to observe you more.
After that Ford found himself watching you more often whenever you were around, even going out of his way to go up to the gift shop when you knew he was there to hang around or talk to Stan. He also liked when you’d ask for his help: “Dr. Ford? Could you reach that box?” “Dr. Ford, can you help me move the display?” He loved feeling needed by you.
His thoughts about you were loudest at night though, when the store was closed and you’d just be hanging around the shack in your pjs. He would try to work late, especially once Stan caught him looking at you as your reached for the top of a cabinet on your tiptoes, the hem of your shirt and shorts each riding up exposing even more skin. Stan had walked in and promptly clocked his brother, silently hitting him on the back of the head, ‘Need me to reach that for ya?’
Yeah he didn’t trust himself to be subtle enough around you in that state, even if he craved it.
You on the other hand were worried you’d done something wrong seeing his withdrawal. Still, he never turned away your coffee, he’d get this soft tired look in his eyes every time you handed it to him, you knew this was a weak point for him. One you didn’t mind exploiting.
You and Stan have just finished a watch of one of those cheesy and overly generic horror movies that played nonstop on channel 13, he was off to bed for the night, but you hadn’t seen Ford come up since before dinner. The man kept odd sleeping hours, but you brewed a decaf pot just to be safe. The summer heat and barely working ac unit of the mystery shack meant you were only ever able to wear your little sleep shorts and a tank top or maybe an oversized tshirt overnight and this was no exception. Totallyyyy no other reason…
You crept down the staircase with his coffee in hand, thinking of your excuse, readying a reason to stick around. “Dr. Ford? It’s pretty late you know, you should be getting to bed soon.” You called out, keeping your voice light. When you got to the bottom of the stairs you saw he was in the main room sitting at the first table with one hand propping up his chin as tired eyes examined the journal he was writing in. “You’re one to talk.” He retorted with a weary smile before looking up towards you. Ford could feel his face warm at the sight of you, what a sight you were, your pjs hugged the shape of you revealing the tops of your thighs, the curve of your hips, even a section of your waist exposed. His eyes raked over you slowly as you approached him, you were very pleased to have caught his attention. “I couldn’t sleep,” you said, holding out his mug, leaning one hip against the table next to where his hands rested. Ford hesitated before taking the mug. “It’s decaf, coffee is not a replacement for sleep.” You said and he finally took it. His eyes were fighting to focus on yours, your hands overlapping on the mug as you transferred it. You could feel the callouses that had formed on his hands over time rake across your softer skin and it nearly sent a shiver down your spine as the little voice in the back of your head begged to know what they would feel like against more of your skin. “I know.” Was all he said flatly, closing his journal and eliciting a frown out of you. He pushed his glasses up, pinching his eyes closed as he rubbed them from a mix of tiredness and trying to focus his guilty mind. “Dr. Ford?” You asked, adding to the knot forming in his gut. “Do I bother you?” You asked, pulling yourself onto the table so that your legs dangled over the side, trying to read him. Truly it was impossible for you to tell if he had decided you were the most annoying person in town or if he possibly returned the interest you held in him. Ford leaned back in his seat, looking back at you, feeling ashamed that he wanted to do nothing more than to spread your soft thighs in front of him and show you just how highly he thought of you, ‘does this feel like you bother me?’ He’d coo, but he couldn’t. “Why do you ask?” He managed to say, his voice coming out lower than usual. You’re soft lips pressed together as you searched for the right words, “Stan said I’d been bugging you too much and you just seemed withdrawn when I tried to help down here, I’m sorry.” Your voice was soft and your thumb was subconsciously busy digging into your other nail beds one at a time, a nervous tick. Ford parted his lips, pausing, choosing his words very carefully, “Of course not, in fact I’ve been very grateful to have you here, it’s just-“ his eyes were transfixed on your hands, resting in your lap, he placed his larger hand on top, stilling your anxious movement. “-I’ve been having a hard time concentrating on my work when you’re around.” His choice of words made your heart pound in your chest. “I’m not used to be observed.” He added, deflating you once more. You had no idea what to do with him, all you could think about was that his skin was touching yours, fixating on the way his thumb was gently rubbing your hand. At one point you knew you would have to just say it because this second he was driving you absolutely crazy. He so rarely touched you and here, so alone, so late, so exposed, you desperately needed a conclusion.
“Ford?” You started, the sound rang in his ears. He was always ‘Dr. Ford’ to you, always, as much as he loved hearing you use his title the lack of it here was even more arousing. You felt your face burning as you built up the courage to continue, “I’d like it if you kissed me.” You wanted to say something more, but it all was caught in your throat. His thumb stopped, neither of you said a word as you sat perfectly still, you wanted to run up the stairs and never look at him again and probably die of embarrassment at some point along the way from the silence. Finally, he moved his hand off of yours, you closed your eyes unwilling to take in the sight of him, even when you felt him cup your cheek and gently turn your face towards him. “You shouldn’t want to.” Was all he said, but when you raised your eyes to look at him his face was so soft, you leaned into his touch, placing a hand on the arm reached out to you. A small “Please” was the only encouragement he needed before he buckled, shoving aside what he think should be and focusing on what he desperately wanted, he slid his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. His guilt and worry washed away, this was perfect you were perfect. Finally, what you had been daydreaming of for weeks happened, your fingers quickly found themselves in his hair and his free hand moved to your thigh, squeezing the soft exposed skin. You reveled in the taste of him, coffee mixing with the scent of leather filled your senses as you leaned further into him. His hand on your thigh began to explore you, squeezing your hips, tracing around your waist, threatening the hem of your shirt, you encouraged him by parting your lips gently and allowing him to deepen the kiss. Ford was eager to, eliciting a small groan to escape you and only turning him on more, such a sweet sound, he wanted more of them. His grip on you tightened bringing more sweet moans to his ears yet just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. He pulled away resting his forehead on yours letting you both process and catch your breath. Ford wanted to do everything he’d been envisioning of the last few weeks, but he also didn’t want to rush things with you, it wasn’t just lust for him. He had grown incredibly attached to you, the way you smiled and laughed and were sweet to him and smart, he wanted more of all of you. He moved both of his hands down to your waist, tracing tiny circles there with his thumbs keeping you captivated, afraid to break the tension. “That was a good idea.” He practically panted, rolling his head down to your neck where he planted gentle, barely there, kisses up towards your jaw. On one hand he wanted to taste more of you, but on the other he was embarrassed for you to see the desperation for you that he couldn’t keep off of his face. “We should both get some rest.” He asserted against your skin. You melted at his touch and you didn’t want to leave this moment, but you couldn’t produce a whole sentence fast enough. “Before you get to working tomorrow,” he planted one more kiss on your cheek, “come back down here okay?” You breathily agreed, Ford hummed and released you, his eyes tracing over you again, using all the composure he had left to restrain himself in front of you as you hopped down and left for your room for the night. Admittedly you both had a very difficult time falling asleep.
The first few days after that you didn’t say much on the matter. You had done as asked and found him back in the lab looking better rested than normal the next day, fully dressed, he was less confident, but you were eager for his touch and his lips on your skin again. It repeated like that for the next couple nights, until you worked up the courage to ask him, while sitting on his lap and acutely aware of a hickey forming just below the collar of your tshirt, “Ford,” you caught his attention seeing his eyes flick their focus back to your face, “I absolutely enjoy this, but-“ crimson washed over your features, unsure the right way to proceed. You didn’t want to scare him off, nor for your late nights to end, but you also had to tell him your feelings for him. “I like you as more than this I-“ Ford you kept one arm around your back to keep you steady as he moved the other to take one of your hands, bringing in front of his lips. “I’d like more than this.” He finished for you, kissing your knuckles gently, he fumbled for his words a moment before stopping and taking a deep breath, “I treasure you far too much to not want more.”
The two of you spent the rest of the night on the roof after that, talking mostly, kissing some, Ford had a wonderfully awful trait of wandering hands while he spoke. Whenever he was listening to you though his mind was too occupied to wander so much, instead he busied himself by playing with your hair or holding your face. Whenever you’d point out his handsiness he’d become flustered and turn pink, even under the moonlight you could tell that he was flushed as he stuttered out an explanation.
While you didn’t immediately say anything to Stan, he caught on fairly quickly that something had shifted with the two of you, especially since he had picked up on Ford’s attraction in the past. ‘How the hell did that happen?’ Stan asked on a particularly slow day when it was just the two of you in the gift shop, you didn’t need to hear his train of thought to know what he meant. ‘You don’t seriously think I liked brewing that much coffee just for fun do you?’ Which was enough for him seeing how much his brother had been smiling and even sleeping more regularly. (Something was tiring him out for once)
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purriteen · 9 months ago
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Ad victor spolia, chapter two
content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)
author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure
but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next
word count: 3,345
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You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.
At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.
Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.
When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.
Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew. 
The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it. 
You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.
Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.
Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.
Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain. 
A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.
You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous. 
You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris. 
Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.
You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing. 
As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. 
You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.
A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.
Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.
You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year. 
You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’. 
Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet. 
Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.
Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.
You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born. 
There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving. 
Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.
Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him. 
Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.
It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.
You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.
When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you. 
You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.
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When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her. 
Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.
You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.
Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.
You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.
Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.
When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.
The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner. 
But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.
Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror. 
You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you. 
You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.
When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for. 
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taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse
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sadienita · 11 months ago
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[1:01] “Joong, where- ugh!” You groaned as you spun around to find Hongjoong way behind you yet again. You were meant to be on a cute date, a first date in fact, because after a year of pining Hongjoong had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. Despite his clear nerves it had been lovely.
Or mostly lovely.
Because despite taking you out to lunch and then to a cute cafe and now for a walk in the park, he had also brought his camera along. And he couldn’t seem to help himself, stopping at every pretty sight to snap a photo, not to mention about fifty photos each from the cafe and restaurant of your food.
It was cute really, but it did mean his attention kept wandering. If you didn’t know him well it might have been rude. But you knew how shy he could be and you could see how nervous he was even if he hid it well. So you simply gave him a smile when he met your gaze with a confused “huh?”
“I’m walking alone.” You chuckled.
“O-Oh, sorry.” He mumbled, scurrying to meet you. He looked even cuter as the blush on his cheeks matched the pink on the tip of his nose from the cold weather. “I got distracted.”
“Was it a good picture?” You hummed.
“Yeah I think so, I think I have at least a few good ones from today. It’s nice that it snowed.” He gazed over the hedge at a few young girls making snow ducks at the side of the walking path. “Everything looks pretty when it snows.”
“Even me?” You teased.
“Y-You always look pretty.” He said quickly. When you glanced at him he was blushing harder. You nudged him with your arm and he looked at you.
“You’re pretty too.”
“You’re just saying that cuz I said it.” He countered.
You put a hand over your heart. “I swear I’m telling the truth.” You reached over to pinch his nose which made him jump. “You’re adorable.”
“I think you just like teasing me.” He muttered.
“I liked teasing you before you asked me out.” You said. “It‘s familiar. It should comfort you.”
“It does the opposite.”
You stepped in front of him, stopping him as you grinned at him. “Do I make you all nervous now, Joongie?”
A blush rushed up his cheeks as he ducked his head. “Why did I think confessing to you was a smart idea?”
“Do I make your heart race?”
“I should have known you would just torture me.”
“Bet you wanna kiss me, don’t you?”
Hongjoong grabbed his camera again, forcing it between the two of you, almost as if creating his own little bubble to withstand your teasing. “Let me take your picture.” He said.
“You didn’t answer any of my questions.” You laughed. He nudged you backwards.
“You already know I like you, do I have to admit to everything?” He mumbled.
“It’s more fun if you do.” You said, wandering down the path as he found you in his viewfinder.
“Don’t I make you feel the same way, anyways?”
Yes. 
Yes, I feel butterflies in my stomach everytime you call my name.
Yes, I feel my heart racing a mile a minute each time you look at me.
Yes, I want you to kiss me.
But you couldn’t just say those things out loud.
“You make me feel…” You thought for a moment as you gazed up at the snow covered branches of the tree. “Make me feel-”
“Wait! Don’t move!” Hongjoong’s sudden exclamation made you jump a little but you held still after that, hearing the snap of his camera shutter. It went off a few more times before you looked at him, ending with him getting one more of you looking right into the camera. You could feel the heat warming you from the inside out as he shyly brought the camera down. He looked so pretty, the shy smile on his face, cheeks and nose tinted pink. The way he looked at you had your heart hammering in your chest, like you were his whole world.
“Sorry, you- it’s a really good picture.” He cleared his throat, tone hopeful when he spoke again. “What were you saying? About how I make you feel?”
A smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t say anything in response, instead waking back down the path towards him. Hongjoong let out a yelp as you dug your fingers into his scarf and pulled him in, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that made your heart feel like it had an entire fireworks display going off.
When you pulled back Hongjoong looked just as dazed as you felt.
“You make me feel love.” You hummed, before kissing him again.
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bloodyinkandquill · 3 months ago
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Firebrand x pheonix/immortal Reader
this one really cool phighting x reader ARTIST i like liked some of my posts i genuinely screamed, like i fucking shouted i was so happy that they thought my writings were good enough to like THREE of them dvsishksgdishsja
immediately after writing that i went to check twitter and saw aidn’s tweet, no spoilers but i have never an to my laptop faster and stimmed so hard.
anyways onto the actual thing you guys are here for, the x reader hcs!
- Cursed, you were cursed. That was the only way to see it, whatever curse your gear had given you made you miserable, it was cool the first few times, after dying you came back in a flame, rose from the ashes, but after centuries you were so tired and lonely, you got attached to mortals too much, attachment was futile, you’ll watch them pass on while you remain on the Inphinity
- You gave up on civilization, living in a remote cabin far away from any other demons, but every once in a while, wether that was months or years, you’d take a day trip out to the Inpherno, it could change so much between your visits or barely at all
- It was on one such trip where you were just walking around looking at what vendors had to offer, couples passing by, kids on their way to cause trouble that you heard something odd, a male voice saying your motto, attachment was futile, overcome with curiosity you followed the loud voice till you saw the source, you weren’t an idiot, if you lived in the Inpherno and didn’t know what the deities looked like that was idiotic, in front of you was not one but two of them, Firebrand and Icedagger
- The taller of the two was knelt down to be on the shorter’s level and was clearly comforting him, he was telling him that he needs to learn, mortals die and that he mustn’t get too attached, he would loose them eventually, but the snow god cried anyways
- You understood his pain, loosing so many people you had foolishly come to love, you were the likely only one besides for the swords that understood that pain, as far as you knew you were the only one with that curse, the curse of being the pheonix
- As you observed you accidentally stepped on something, a paper bag that crumbled and made noise alerting the two gods in their private interaction, they both instantly turned towards you as you raised your hands in show of not meaning any harm, you apologized for interrupting their conversation, but Firebrand had a strange look on his face, he said something to the affect of you felt different than other mortals, you had a deep sadness in your eyes, which like ouch, fair, but ouch
- You tentatively asked if he had heard the urban legends of a demon from centuries past given the name pheonix, he nodded and you revealed that that was you, an immortal mortal, he looked a bit skeptical but could also see the years and pain behind your eyes, similar to that of him and his siblings, Icedagger spoke up saying he didn’t know of the legends, you explained the stories people told of you, a demon cursed by their gear to forever walk the Inphinity, anytime you shall die you’re swallowed by the flames and emerge again anew, never allowed to pass on
- Icedagger asked if that meant you knew how he felt, the pain of becoming too attached to people you were destined to loose, watch grow old and fade away as you had so many times before, you said you did, you believed only you, him, and his siblings knew the feeling
- Firebrand spoke up asking if you’d want to accompany him for tea, he had heard the legends form mortals of you but never believed them, thought they were just stories the mortals told, you agreed and things spiraled from there
- Now you have someone you can love without fear of loosing them, and likewise, you knew the pain of loving someone who you would be helpless to save, and now that you had each other you and him wouldn’t have to experience it as bad as you had before, he thought it might have been fate, you’re reborn form the fire, his fire, it could not have been coincidence
- You loved each other wholeheartedly, knowing that you could till the end of time, even as others died and turned to dust, cities fell and crumbled, you would have each other, it was the most amazing thing you could have ever asked for, someone who understood your sadness but would never cause you that same sadness again, maybe, just maybe, your gear was a blessing, and not a curse
HOLY SHIT THAT WAS FAR MORE POETIC AND JUNK THAN I INTENDED, like holy shit i had a basic idea for what to do, then i’d do regular writings of like dates or whatever, instead i wrote that fucking masterpiece, it’s 1 am and i just channeled fucking william shakespeare i swear bros, anyways uh, thanks for reading ill either go to bed now or get one more request done, we shall see i have class tomorrow but i really like doing these requests so…
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number-onekidqueen · 8 months ago
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𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
I don’t think you guys understand how much I love this song. So here’s some fluff, which you guys wanted most in that little poll.
Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader
warnings: brief mentions of Luke's quest ptsd, nightmares, mentions of death by monsters.
summary: you and luke have known how nice it was to have a friend for years. And then it becomes something more.
Based on 'It's Nice to Have a Friend' by Taylor Swift.
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winter of meeting (fourteen years old)
It was the first time you’d ever seen snow.
As the final conch horn echoed throughout camp and activities ceased, you’d exchanged the friendship bracelet you’d been making with Luke, giggling at the messy pattern he’d made.
You’d only known each other for a little while, but already you could tell that arts and crafts were not his strong points.
“Whatever,” he was grumbling, although he was also grinning as the two of you ambled out of the craft cabin. “Woah.”
You felt it then, the cold flakes fluttering on your skin, causing hairs to raise all over you. The pair of you stood, shivering and in awe as you faced towards Olympus, watching as the white flurries swirled down through the grey sky.
“Let’s go,” he urged you, throwing a jacket on, “this barely ever happens they say. We’ve gotta savour it while we can.”
“I-I haven’t got a coat with me,” you pointed out awkwardly, cursing yourself for not noticing the cold temperatures beforehand.
“Oh,” and he immediately ripped his coat off and placed it on your shoulders before you could protest. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your cabin for your coat and then we can have some fun.”
Slipping and sliding through the snow you went, reaching your cabin in no time. Already the snow had grown thick, and you took advantage of this, making wonky snow angels and pelting snow balls at each other. This fun and mania continued until others joined and it became so violent and competitive, Chiron had to intervene.
To appease everyone, however, he promised a night of camping on the beach in tents. You remembered how you’d stayed up so late that night, talking and talking and talking. You never got sick of it, and in the close and fun atmosphere, it was so nice to have a friend.
summer he came back (seventeen years old)
The pink sky was so spacious and beautiful from up here. It was many a night you’d ascended up onto the Hermes cabin roof, but you didn’t think it had ever been so scenic.
You hoped your dad was giving a fantastic sky show to Luke after all the shit he’d been through.
“You guys have gotta get dow-“
“We’re literally counsellors too! Go away!” You screamed at the pesky Demeter counsellor, glaring at him until he left you in peace. Couldn’t he take a hint? Couldn’t you guys be left in peace for a fraction of a second?! It wasn’t like you guys had a curfew anyway.
To break the tense silence, you decided to play twenty questions. It was a tradition of yours, and you couldn’t exactly remember when you first played it, just that it was a game you played often. You hoped it would cheer Luke up from the miserable place he had been since he returned to camp from his quest.
“What was…. The goofiest thing you saw on your quest?” You asked, smiling.
He grinned weakly, seeming to rack his brain as he gazed at the sunset. “Um, oh! Probably this guy we saw on the bus. He had these maroon gloves, and uh, a completely orange jumpsuit thing and all he did the whole trip was eat celery.”
“What? No way.” You said in disbelief, shaking your head.
“No, he was insane, just like crunching away at these sticks of celery for about an hour, I swear.”
You continued like this for a while, asking silly questions and snickering until your stomachs ached. But the deeper questions came too.
“Do you still have nightmares?” You were scared to ask this question, scared that it overstepped. Sure, you were best friends and you’d talked about these deep, close and personal things many times before, but Luke had changed when he came back. He was more sensitive, more traumatised. He hadn’t cracked with you, but he had with Chris, and that was still saying something. You didn’t want to fracture the shaky relationship you’d fought to rebuild.
“Yeah,” he replied, and you drew closer as he let out a shaky exhale, “they keep coming, and I just can’t get away from them.”
“What’s in them?”
“It starts off pretty normal. I’m usually with you somewhere and we’re doing something for camp. And then-then this gap opens beneath your feet- and you fall, and, and you’re screaming the whole way down. And then this evil, dark voice comes out and sometimes I can hear it, but usually it just mutters all these weird phrases I can’t understand.”
“What does it tell you when you can hear?” You were both curious and concerned.
“It’s weird. That if I follow it, it can show me a world where no one I care about gets hurt, and I can protect them all. Sometimes, I get these glimpses of this warm, golden place and everyone’s happy and safe. But then I’m just scared again.”
There was a brief silence, allowing both of you to mull over the words just spoken.
“My go,” and his eyes were soft when he faced you, “Apollo been answering your prayers?”
You shook your head, blinking back the tears in your eyes at the thought. Of course he knew. He was Luke Castellan.
“I thought so. You deserve so much better than him.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a god, right?” You said weakly, brushing tears, “bad parenting is part of their jam.”
You fought the tears that continued to build, thinking of a way to change the subject. “This questioning is getting so depressing, geez.”
“Well, it’s your go. You lighten the mood.” He offered, leaning back on his elbows.
“Ok. I can’t think of anymore! Uhh, on a scale of 1 to 10 how important am I to you?” You joked, covering your mouth as you chuckled quietly.
He wasn’t laughing back though. In fact, his face was earnest.
“10.” He replied softly, and his hand reached forward and brushed yours.
And you treasured that evening in your memory. It was so nice to have a friend.
spring of new beginnings (twenty five years old)
The clanging of bells signified both your successes as you’d reached the adult years of life. Even at 25, you and Luke were lucky to be alive.
You both didn’t want to waste anymore time.
Laughter erupted from you, as he scooped you into his arms, carrying you away from Big House and the cacophony of ricocheting metal courtesy of the Hephaestus and Hecate cabins, and the grass strewn with snow flake like rice grains.
You’d had the celebration at camp, but you were planning to drive back to your home - a new apartment in New York.
And here you were. Humming along to the high notes of a nostalgic song on your playlist, waiting for Luke to come back with his take out, and drumming your fingers on your cream skirt. Despite the fact that he’d stuffed his face with entrees that Demeter kids had lovingly and tediously created back at camp, he was still starving by the time you’d spent a while on the road. Truth be told, you were too, but given the fact you were still in your wedding dress, you didn’t want to risk any stains.
The loud and cheery tune of your ringtone distracted you from your thoughts, and after a bit of scrambling, you picked up, noticing it was Luke.
“Luke, babe, I swear I gave you the credit card, it isn’t in here.”
“Uh, ouch, no there’s no problem with that,” he explained, chuckling. “That creamy sauce is still your favourite, right? With wings?”
“Yeah?” you said, confused. “But I’m not hungry remember? Just buy food for yourself, and get outta there before we hit peak hour traffic.”
“Oh yeah, I just noticed it’s a few cents cheaper than normal sauce.” You could hear him munching softly now, so you assumed he was on his way out. Thank the gods.
“Ok?? And you seriously called me for that?” You asked, more amused now, but still very confused.
“Ooh, you’re right, I better watch my step, any more communication and my wife will divorce me.” He teased.
You sputtered a bit at wife, trying not to choke. You still weren’t used to it. You didn’t think you ever would be.
“I know you’re blushing in there.” He called over the phone, except now you could see him exiting the store, boxes piled in his arms.
“Whatever,” you mumbled, hanging up and trying to calm your burning cheeks.
When he entered the car, the sucker still had that grin on his face as he passed you a box of wings and a little tub of your favourite sauce.
“Huh?” You asked him, a smile spreading.
“Y/n, I think even Mr D. has enough intuition skills to know you were craving some wings. Let’s eat.”
And you beamed at him, because of course your Luke knew when you desperately wanted food and would go and procure it for you.
The car trip was a lot shorter when the both of you were licking your fingers and passionately singing your favourite songs off-key. It seemed only moments had passed before you were turning into the parking lot underneath your apartment, stacking any box you could carry in your arms, and sandwiching bags between each limb.
Thankfully, the elevator wasn’t broken, and you were able to take that up to the three floors it took to reach your apartment. Outside the door was your landlord, a steaming coffee mug in one hand and a set of keys in the other.
You bit your lip anxiously as he scanned his eyes over you, his lips twisting in amusement at your dress.
“Nice outfit,” he sniped, taking a sip of the hot black liquid.
“I certainly thought so.” Luke chimed in, taking the keys from the man and unlocking the door. He led you in by the shoulder. “She looks beautiful, just like always.”
And then the door was shut, and you were bent over giggling quietly, casting grateful looks at him while Luke side-eyed the door.
You’d barely been a moment in your new place, but it already felt like home with him. As you personalised the place further and more and more of your belongings from camp hung on the walls, lay on the floor and were tucked into corners, a sense of belonging crept into your heart. You loved this place. You loved Luke.
Walking swiftly into the bedroom, you collapsed onto the mattress he was setting up, tugging him down with you.
He groaned happily, as you carded your fingers through his hair.
“Let’s just lie here for a while and not do anymore unpacking,” you whispered to him breathily, as you settled into his side.
“Mmmm, not a while. How about the whole weekend?” He mumbled, as his arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer.
And in the warmth of that bed it was the same comfortable feeling you’d felt with him all those times before.
It was nice to have a friend lover.
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Ivar The Boneless
Different
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summary - You had been courting Hvitserk, when you’d caught him doing the unthinkable. That’s when Ivar stepped in.
You and Hvitserk had been together for a while, you were in a partner ship but there wasn’t an official label. You were his, and he was yours as far as you were concerned. People knew that, you weren’t quick to be married and you didn’t mind that.
You had definitely fallen for the man you’d known since you were a child having been friends with the young Prince since you were toddlers. He was kinder and more gentle then his peers, so how could you not? You knew of his reputation for bedding numerous amounts of women. He was happy if his belly was full and if there was a lady keeping his bed warm, for years that’s how it went. It hurt you to keep the way you felt under wraps. Until one day you had confessed to him, and lucky for you he had felt the same way.
Recently things hadn’t been going so well, you’d noticed his wondering eye but never thought much of it, well tried not to anyways. He loved you, you loved him. Small arguments started to break out every so often but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t sorted with a kiss. You had thought you were secure and happy. Trying to ignore the little cracks that were beginning to form between you and him.
You’d found yourself becoming friendly with his brother Ivar, finding that when you’d search for Hvitserk, he was out doing something. Ivar would usually be the one to tell you he was out, at first you were weary of the man. He was never particularly kind to you as a child, you’d originally tried to befriend the boy as he was your age, but it was Hvitserk who ultimately won your friendship and then love. But in Hvitserks recent absences you found yourself chatting to Ivar, he was kinder when he was by himself.
——————
“He’s not here y/n, he went out early again” you heard Ivar say as you pulled the door closed behind you, glad to be out the cold but annoyed at the fact it was now the 6th time Hvitserk hadn’t bothered to let you know he was out. You tried to not think anything of it, although an uneasy feeling nibbled away at your stomach. Not wanting to push the man, you always assumed he was with his other brothers. You still respected Hvitserk and his brothers, so if he told you he was out with his brothers then he was out with his brothers, you never pushed.
“Well, I’m bored so can I just stay with you for abit? It’s cold and I don’t want to walk through that snow again just yet.” Truthfully you wanted the company, you’d felt so lonely recently and Ivars company was not so bad. You shrugged your furs from your shoulders, placing them over a spare seat to dry from the snow.
“I’d like that, I’ve been alone all day. Your company seems to be the only one that doesn’t annoy me” his answer caused you to shoot a small smile at him. Taking a seat next to him on the floor, you ran your hand through the furs placed for him and now you to sit on, after shifting abit to get comfortable you finally let out a sigh that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in.
“I’m unsure as to why your allowing him to get away with this” Ivar questioned, allowing his eyes to wander over your form. He’d only ever been mean to try and fight the feelings he has for you, the day you tried to become his friend he remembers like it was yesterday, and he curses himself for ever being so awful to you. You could of been the one thing in his life he could hold onto. But he was afraid, afraid incase you’d reject him or make fun of him like so many others seemed to do. But you never did, and you never would.
Hvitserk was usually his favourite out of his brothers, but the way his older sibling had been making you feel recently bothered him. It wasn’t fair on someone who was so pure and genuine. Although he wanted the unwavering love you had for Hvitserk to be for him. He also, for once in his life, was putting your feelings before his own. He wanted to hold you, make that drained unsure look on your face disappear. He could tell that everything that was going on at the moment was bothering you more then you let on, but you were to polite to do anything about it, to worried to make someone upset. But you also didn’t want that nagging feeling to be true, to address it would mean you were either extremely wrong and possibly hurt Hvitserk or it was true and your heart would surely shatter.
“Ivar, I’m worried. I’m scared. Recently he’s had wondering eyes, for years he hadn’t even looked in the direction of another woman unless it was to speak to them. We’d always tell each other where we are going but mostly we wouldn’t have to because we’d already be together. We haven’t shared a bed in a while, and when he comes back from where ever he’s been going he’s been off with me, like he’s pretending. What am I doing wrong Ivar? I’ve known him since I was a child.” You felt awful for revealing everything to Ivar knowing the young man already had enough going on. Tears streamed your face, it was the first time you’d allowed yourself to cry. It was a foolish thing to do especially in front of a man such as Ivar. You didn’t want to seem weak.
Instead of speaking Ivar placed a gentle arm over your shoulder, cradling you as you cried. His heart-ached for you. But his anger, oh how his anger was boiling over toward his brother.
You both heard the door open, the familiar voices of Ubbe and Bjørn filled the room but Hvitserks was absent. This only caused more worry for you. They stepped into the room you and Ivar were sat in, noticing your obvious distress.
“Ubbe, Bjørn. Was Hvitserk with you today. Or any day recently for that matter?” Your heart speed up, if there answer was anything other then yes, you were ready to start your own war.
“Sorry y/n, me and Bjørn have been fishing recently. But Hvitserk hasn’t been joining us.” Ubbe had a sympathetic tone to his voice, but no amount of sympathy would stop the blood that was now pumping through your veins as you stood. Any upset you had felt was now turned to adrenaline and anger. It was the only thing that would give you the courage to walk over to Hvitserks home and confront him. You hadn’t intended to leave so abruptly hoping the brothers would understand your predicament.
Ivar watched the door slam behind you, his instant reaction was to pull himself up and grab his crutch and strapping his leg braces up as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t allow you to face this on your own if things went south. Despite the cold he set out after you.
You reached Hvitserks door, finally realising where you were. You hesitated, noticing the glow of candles. He was in. Your heart dropped, unsure of what you were going to walk in on. The gnawing feeling in your stomach now a full raging beast. That’s when you heard the soft dragging of feet behind you, you knew exactly who it was. Ivar.
“I’m here for you. y/n. You don’t have to face this alone.” You’d never been more glad to see his face, he brought a tiny bit of comfort. Which you hadn’t of expected. You nodded at him. Thankful for his presence.
With a shaky hesitant hand you pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. Your manners were put on hold for now. It was dark the flickering candles being the only source of light. But he was home, and your fears became reality. You saw her and him, on the bed you used to sleep in with him, where you and Hvitserk spend many a night making love or cuddling. And there he was now but with another woman. They hadn’t noticed you at first but you saw her naked back and heard his grunts.
Your gentle side had been tossed out the room as you pushed the rest of the front door so hard it caused it to crash into the wall beside it, whilst also nearly taking the large piece of wood off of its hinges. This caused the woman to jump from riding your partner, Hvitserk shooting up from his previous position to see the you. Your head whirled with 100 million things to scream at him, yet you didn’t say anything, you stood in the door way, chest heaving. Making sure to make eye contact with Hvitserk so he could see the fury that bubbled behind them.
With that you stormed off. You needed to be alone.
Ivar allowed you to go, understanding that you were angry and needed time alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t give his brother what for. Ivar was enraged. And Hvitserk would soon know all about it.
“YOU, OUT!” Ivar snarled at the naked woman, as she hurriedly gathered her clothes. “if y/ns ever in the same vicinity as you. You better not show your face. Infact do yourself a favor and never come back” he spat.
Turning his attention to his brother, his eyes narrowed at him. Hvitserk didn’t know where to look, he wanted to find you. But no amount of sorry would ever heal the heart he’d just broken. Instead he had to deal with Ivar.
“You disgust me brother. I’ve never known you to do such vile things” Ivar dragged himself further into the house.
“You are no man, you have a woman’s love and this is how you treat it. especially the love of a woman such as y/n” his voice thick with venom towards his brother. “I hope the gods cruse you and that sleaze” Ivar took his arm and swiped everything off of the table allowing it to break, crash and spill. “You are lucky she will not allow me to hurt you, her kindness still prevails even when she should nail your balls to your eyes!”
three months later———
The heartbreak was soul shattering, it took you nearly a month and half to even consider going out side. Yet Ivar visited you most days, even if you wanted your own space Ivar would sit quietly. Allowing you to know his presence was there if needed. Which you were glad for, he held you when you cried, listened when you needed to talk, and chatted when you needed a distraction. You two became close, becoming the best friends you were meant to be.
Hvitserk had tried multiple times to come see you but Ivar wouldn’t allow it. You needed to heal and he would help you do that. Hvitserk left many a gift at your door, it confused Ivar as to why it was now he was spoiling you, trying to give you the attention that you needed for the last part of your and his relationship now. He was two late. You wouldn’t ever go back to a cheat, Ivar helped you get to that frame of mind, as before you would of crumbled craving to feel the man you loved.
Ivar helped remind you that you were beautiful, although to Ivar you were more then beautiful, you were truly breathtaking. Learning some self love was important right now.
You and Ivar had decided to take a walk, nothing major. There was a feast going on in the great hall tonight so Ivar assured you that there wouldn’t be anyone around. So you wrapped yourselves up in furs and your cloaks and headed out.
It was quiet at first, you weren’t going far due to Ivar using his crutches but it was nice to be outside regardless. It was night and the stars had come out in full force, like the gods wanted to paint the sky especially for you and Ivar.
“Oh how wonderful, Ivar look at the sky! The gods has truly blessed us tonight!” You giggled, clasping your hands together softly. It was a joyous sound and one Ivar had missed dearly. You both took a seat on one of the tables that stood in the middle of Kattegat, and Ivar was finally able to look at the sky. He never cared much for such things but today was different if you wanted him to look at the stars then that is what he’d do, and you were correct, the sky was littered with stars and it was truly breathtaking.
“I need closure” you blurted out randomly, Ivar brought down his head to look at you.
“I need closure so I can move on. I want to know why. It’s been months since I’ve seen his face. And I thank you for helping me take the time to heal. But I want to start moving on. I want to be able to love someone else who’ll love me just as much.” Your looked at Ivar to gage a reaction, he smiled softly at you. His gaze relaxing when he met your eyes.
You and Ivar had decided that he would go to the great hall and get his brother. Rather then you having to walk into a place that would cause you a great distress, at least if you were outside and couldn’t handle it you could just walk away. You sat whislt Ivar went to find Hvitserk.
After about 15 minutes you saw the two men walking toward you, Hvitserk caught your eyes first. You’d expect to want to run away but you didn’t, you were quite happy just sitting there looking at the stars in the quiet. Although a little nervous, seeing Ivar behind him calmed your nerves tenfold.
Hvitserk remained stood whilst Ivar pulled himself up to be sat beside you, taking his fur off and wrapping around your shoulders although you already have your own on, you appreciated the kind gesture. Jealousy was written allover Hvitserks face, as he scowled at his brother.
“Well say something brother” Ivar bit, he rolled his eyes at the other man who remained silent, yet to even mutter a word.
“Ivar, it’s okay. I’ll speak.” You gently placed your hand on Ivars wrist giving it a squeeze. Hvisterk wanted nothing more then for his little brother to go away, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He hadn’t even been able to see you for three months. His brother forbid it. He’d been nothing but spiteful towards him, which he deserved.
Hvitserk looked at you, hopeful to still see some form of loving gaze toward him but there was none. And his heart sunk.
“Hvitserk, it’s been three long months since you betrayed me and betrayed our love. You shattered my heart into a million pieces. I do not understand if you were so unhappy with being my partner then why not just end things. I now have new worries & insecurities due to your actions, I doubt that I will ever be good enough for anyone anymore. If it hadn’t of been for your brother I don’t know where I’d be now. Probably still fawning after you making a fool out of myself. But, I shall not. You will forever hold a piece of my heart, that I will say. I loved you Hvitserk and a part of me always will. I’m unsure as to if you ever loved me as I could not possibly do the things that you have done to me. But all I ask is why?” Your voice remained a level tone. No hate was spat at the man. You couldn’t bring yourself to be so unkind.
Ivar was beyond proud of you, although he was full of anger toward his brother you remained calm, having seen how you screamed into your furs, how you threw things and how you cried behind the closed door of your hut when it first happened, you had come so far. He could only wish to ever deal with things the way you had just done.
Hvitserk sucked in a breath, almost to stop his voice from wobbling. He had lost you, through his own foolish, greedy actions.
“Y/n my lov-“ he started but you cut him off, “you’ve no right to call me that anymore.” His eyes watered, but he held his composure the best he could infront of you and his brother.
“Y/n, I love you. My gods i love you. But I had been foolish. I had been tempted by a woman and slipped into my old ways, she persisted and I gave in. I have no excuse for doing what I did, and I shan’t makeup one. You deserve better then that. These past three months have been torment. I just wanted to hold you feel your warm flesh against mine again. I had known you were too good for me. I fear you hate me now. I can’t live without you at least speaking to me.” He spoke carefully, his voice timid as if he was getting told off. Ivar scoffed and you placed your hand once again on his arm to stop him.
“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate anyone. As I had said a piece of me will always hold onto you, and it will pain me. But I shall learn to live with it. I will speak to you if the situation permits it but I shan’t make an effort. I cannot hide away anymore. I am friends with Ivar and that won’t stop. Whether you like it or not. I hope you live a happy life. But please promise me, don’t hurt another woman like this. Make sure you love her and you love her hard. Never make her feel the way you have made me feel. Goodbye Hvitserk.” With that you hopped off of the table, and bowed your head. He was to you now a prince of Kattegat and you would respect him as such. But he wasn’t your Hvisterk anymore and you had started to finally come to terms with it.
Ivar followed you back to your hut, you were still so unbelievably grateful for him. So once you got back although late, you set about making the man a warm pie as to thank him for tonight. Ivar had perched himself on your bed as your hut was small and you could see the kitchen from where he was easily enough. He watched you carefully as you made the food and chatted away to him, his heart fluttered at you. He had fallen so unbelievably in love with you, but knew to keep it to him self whislt you went through what your going through, he knew deep down that you were meant to be his. He’d never felt this way about anyone. Your the only person that he would protect wholeheartedly, even against his own brother.
The small space was filled with the warm sent of your baked good, it was warm and cozy due to the fire burning away in the centre. Ivar could get used to this. He’d never known the true feeling of home, always feeling out of sorts around his brothers. But here, he was comfortable. He was warm and he could look at you all he wanted. He’d never understand why Hvitserk did what he did, and in someways he was glad.
He could finally get you to himself.
You grabbed two spoons once the pie had cooled off abit, bringing it to where Ivar sat wrapped in your bed furs. Intending it to be a nice late night treat and a thanks to Ivar.
“It smells delicious” Ivar smiled at you taking the warm pie into his hands so you could slip in next to him. “Why don’t we just use the same spoon, saves on dishes” he laughed, “Ivar I don’t mind washing it it’s just a spoon-“
“No if we share we will do it properly” he said as he scooped up some sweet filling and pastry, holding it up for you to take the first bite. A feeling was brewing as you looked at Ivar, but it was a different feeling, one you hadn’t experienced before. A warm feeling, no rampid butterfly’s. A safe, warm, glowing feeling toward Ivar. You’d soon find out. That it was love starting to form for the man, true love.
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