#as for the other friendships I’m uncertain about there’s nothing I can do there

[whimsyprinx]

i think I just need to stop clinging to and getting so attached to people

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[crheativity]

Hello! I'm not sure if you're taking regular requests, but can I request hcs for the Malleus, Deuce, Epel, Ace, and Azul finding out that the reader has a crush on someone from their dorm but it isn't them? The reader actually has a crush on one of the NPCs, and that NPC requites the reader's feelings. How would they react?

It's ok if you don't want to do this also. No pressure

-💀💅

SUMMARY: They find out you have a crush on someone from their dorm… that isn’t them.

WARNINGS: Cut-off swear in Epel’s section, angst D:

NOTES: why must you do this to me. I love these boys sm. how could you do this.

(Also, sorry for the delay D:)

There’s a hole inside of him that can’t be plugged with your friendship anymore. Almost everyone knows something is up - everyone except you. Around you, nothing’s different. He’s the same happy, goofy guy he always is. But the minute you’re not around, the smile fades, the joy is gone. He has zero motivation to do anything. And yet, he’s gotta continue being your friend. You don’t have a whole lot of people here for you. He’ll hide himself until he’s numb if it gives you the support you need.

“…”

He’s calling his mother, in tears, as soon as he gets a moment to himself. He doesn’t know what to do - he’s never really dealt with love before. His mother, fortunately, knows just how to soothe him, and he begins to move forwards and onwards. He distances himself a little out of respect - at least, until it all goes away. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable - especially since he tends to wear his heart on his sleeves. As soon as he can act normal around you again, he will, but please give him the opportunity to move on first.

“Hey, mum? …what do I do?”

He hated himself. Of course it wasn’t him. Of course it was another Octavinelle student. What was he thinking?! It’s just like those kids would tell him - he was slow and chubby and stupid, and that’s not counting the overblot incident, why would someone like you even look at someone like him? Azul isn’t proud of it, but he finds himself looking for dirt on the student. He’s not gonna use it or anything, but he needs some kind of way to cope, and throwing himself into his work seems the best possible course of action. At least, until his silly hopes and dreams stay shoved in the trash can where they belong.

“…those kids were right.”

It’s because he looks like a girl, isn’t it? He KNEW talking to Vil and Rook about this kinda thing was a bad idea - look at where it got him! Now he’s gotta live with the fact that he’s always playin second fiddle with you. Makes sense though - who’d wanna date a girly boy like him? Although, maybe if he proved to you that he’s the better choice, you’d like him instead? Or, maybe he could fistfight that other prissy pomefiore kid. He’s honestly not sure what would help him feel better right now. He feels very uncertain - like the world is both shattering and strangely familiar at the same time.

“I’m gonna beat his a-“

He’s sulking. You’re in love with someone else and he’s sulking. What is he supposed to do now? It’s entirely unfair that you are his everything, his happiest dream, yet he’s barely in yours - at least, not in the way he wants to be. He’s avoiding you for a while, locking himself in his roomm. The rain seems endless, thunder and lightning acting as proof of his bad mood. Sage Island almost floods. Lilia and Silver respect his wishes for you to be around less but think he’s being a bit dramatic.

“Malleus? It’s been storming for weeks now. Can you come out of your room?”

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[belqva]

₊˚⊹౨ LOML [C.S.] ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: none, except for a lot of angst but oh well. the tortured poets department gave me inspiration for this so are we surprised?

summary: In the shadows of triumph, Coriolanus Snow, victor of the 10th Hunger Games, faces exile. Bound by a promise and a tender moment Coriolanus leaves behind his best friend and a life of endless possibility.

pairing: academy!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

a/n: my first ever fanfic I’m posting <3 english is NOT my first language so if you encounter some spelling or grammar errors let me know! I’m happy to hear any criticism or recommendations and my inbox is open so feel free to share your thoughts and any requests 🤍 please reblog or support in any way you can if you enjoy it thank you!

You could hardly believe it was real. The moment seemed too surreal, too much like a dream, but the reality was undeniable. Lucy Gray, with her haunting song to the snakes, had captured not just the Capitol’s attention but their hearts as well. Even Dr. Gaul, who had initially refused to let her out, was forced to relent under the intense demands of the entire student body.

In that electrifying moment, Coryo and Lucy Gray became victors, and with them, you felt your world shift.

You were still trembling from the intensity of the past few minutes. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, and your hands quivered with a mixture of relief and disbelief. Everything would be alright now.

You felt a huge grin spreading across your face, the kind that hurt your cheeks. Everything had worked out in the end—Coryo would get his prize money, he would attend university with you, and the Snows would finally find themselves in a better financial position.

All of his hard work, his cunning, his sacrifices—it had all paid off. It was like a dream come true, perhaps even better.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the euphoria wash over you. Memories of your friendship with Coriolanus began to flood your mind.

You thought back to the early days, back when everything seemed so uncertain and bleak. The Snow family had lost so much, their wealth, their power—everything had crumbled after the war. But through it all, Coryo had never given up.

You admired that about him, his tenacity and resolve, even when the odds were stacked so heavily against him.

You remembered how the two of you would sit together in the Academy’s courtyard, discussing your plans for the future, as if speaking them out loud would make them more likely to happen.

He would always say, “We’ll get through this, you and I. We’ll find a way.”

And you had believed him, because despite everything, Coryo had a way of making you believe that anything was possible.

You had been there through the the tough times. When they had nothing to eat for days leaving him and Tigris alone in that cavernous, crumbling apartment, the remnants of a life that once promised so much. You’d seen him struggle to keep up appearances, to maintain a semblance of dignity despite the whispers and the pitying glances from others.

But through it all, he remained determined, and you stood by his side, offering what little comfort and support you could. He’d never once asked for your help, but you’d given it anyway, because that’s what friends did.

And then came the Games. You knew from the start that Coriolanus would be an exceptional mentor, but you also knew how high the stakes were for him. Winning wasn’t just about pride or glory; it was about survival. It was about securing a future, not just for himself, but for Tigris, for the memory of his family.

You had watched him throw himself into the role with everything he had, determined to make a success of it, even as others doubted him.

Now, standing there among the cheering students, you felt that familiar swell of pride. He had done it. Against all odds, Coriolanus Snow had not only survived but thrived. And in doing so, he had proven to everyone—most of all to himself—that he was capable of greatness.

But you had to see him, had to touch him, to truly believe it.

The Academy space where the mentors had gathered was a cacophony of noise and movement. Students were on their feet, celebrating, congratulating him. You were seated in the back rows, and it was a struggle to make your way through the throng of bodies. You pushed through the crowd, muttering apologies and excuses as you went, your eyes scanning for that distinctive head of blond, almost white curls.

Finally, you spotted him. Coriolanus was standing with Tigris, his face lit up with a smile so genuine and full of relief that it gave him an almost otherworldly glow. The look of pure triumph on his features made your heart swell with happiness, if such a thing was even possible at this point.

As you drew closer, you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the toll the Games had taken on him, but also the undeniable joy of victory.

“Coryo,” you called out, not too loudly, but just enough for him to hear. He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes brightening even more when he saw you. Without a second thought, you hurried toward him, and as soon as you were within reach, you wrapped him in a tight, almost bone-crushing hug.

He held you just as tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only people in the room, the sea of students and the noise fading into the background.

Coryo clung to you as if he never wanted to let go, his breath warm against your ear, and you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

“You did it,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, tears welling up in your eyes. “You actually did it.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had started to fall.

“I knew you could do it, Coryo,” you continued, your voice trembling but full of conviction. “I never once doubted you. I’m so proud of you.”

His gaze softened at your words, and for a brief moment, the stoic mask he usually wore cracked, revealing the vulnerable boy underneath. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of gratitude. “Thank you for everything. For being by my side, for never giving up on me.”

“Always,” you replied, your voice barely more than a breath. The two of you stood there, foreheads pressed together, savoring the moment.

It was a small pocket of peace amidst the chaos, a brief respite where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

You thought back to all those times he had confided in you, those late-night talks where he shared his fears, his doubts, and his hopes. You knew Coryo better than anyone, perhaps even better than Tigris. You knew how deeply he felt things, even though he tried to hide it behind a calm, composed exterior.

You knew how much this victory meant to him—not just for the tangible rewards it would bring, but for what it represented. This was proof that he could rise above his circumstances, that he could reclaim the Snow family’s honor, that he could be someone who mattered.

But as with all moments, this one couldn’t last forever. The crowd around you began to press in again, and Coriolanus was soon whisked away by more well-wishers.

He drank posca, shook hands, and accepted congratulations with a grace that seemed almost second nature to him. Yet you could tell that this victory had loosened something in him, something that had been tightly wound for far too long.

As you watched him navigate the crowd, you felt a swell of pride that was almost overwhelming. This was the Coriolanus Snow you knew—a natural leader, someone who could command a room with just his presence. And yet, beneath that polished exterior, there was still the boy you had grown up with, the boy who had faced more hardships than most would ever know.

You knew that this moment would change everything for him, for both of you. The prize money would secure his future, ensuring that he could attend university and continue on the path you had both dreamed about.

The Snow family name would be restored, and with it, a sense of dignity that had been sorely lacking for so long. For the first time in years, Coryo’s future looked bright, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that you had played a part in helping him reach this point.

Soon enough, a voice rang out over the noise, commanding that Coriolanus report to the High Lab immediately.

The summons didn’t seem unusual—after all, he was the victor’s mentor, and surely they would want to congratulate him in person, perhaps even offer him some insight into what would happen next. Maybe he would get to see Lucy Gray again, to explain what had happened in those final, crucial moments.

You watched as Coryo set off, his steps confident, his back straight. He was walking toward his new life, a life that would finally give him the recognition and security he had fought so hard for.

As he reached the doors and paused, he turned back for just a moment, his eyes seeking yours. He gave you a small, reassuring smile—the kind that said everything was going to be okay.

And in that moment, you believed it. You returned his smile, your heart full to bursting with love and pride. This was just the beginning of a bright and promising future, and nothing could dim the light of this victory.

Coryo gave a final nod and then turned, pushing the doors open and stepping through, leaving the noise and the crowd behind him. As the doors closed, you stood there, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. Everything had worked out just as it should.

Everything was going to be alright.

You had gone home soon after Coryo left for the high lab, still aglow with excitement. The manor's grand halls felt almost empty, echoing your unspoken anticipation. You could hardly wait to share your joy with Coryo—just the two of you, away from the world's gaze.

You greeted your parents as you passed through the living room, where they sat absorbed in the Capitol news.

Your mother, wrapped in a luxurious shawl, watched Lucky Flickerman with a serene smile. Your father, seated with his customary stern expression, barely glanced up.

You quickly made your way to your quarters, jittery and impatient.

After hours of trying to kill time, trying not to worry about the worst you decided you had enough. Each second of silence, with no calls or messages from Coryo or Tigris, increased your anxiety. What could be delaying them? Were they intentionally avoiding you, or had something gone awry?

Your frustration mounted. You couldn't bear to stay in your room any longer. The adrenaline of your excitement had not yet worn off, and now you were driven by a mix of worry and determination. With no further ado, you decided to head to the Snows' penthouse.

You left your room and walked briskly down the hall, informing your parents of your intentions. “I’m going to see Coryo,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, but haven’t you talked to him already, dear?” Your mother asked, her voice laced with concern. “It’s quite late to be heading out.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed with disapproval. He was always stringent about your associations and activities. Relationships before marriage were forbidden in your household, and in the Capitol elite, it was considered unacceptable for a young woman to have a suitor without a promise of marriage.

“Tigris invited me over,” you explained smoothly. “We’re just going to celebrate. His grandmother will be there too. It’s just a nice gesture, really. An honor.”

The lie slipped effortlessly from your lips. Growing up with strict rules had honed your skill in deceit.

“Well, alright then,” your mother said with a hesitant smile. “But don’t stay out too late. And make sure to return before midnight.”

“Just be careful,” your father added gruffly, his gaze following you as you left.

With their reluctant approval, you stepped out of the manor and instructed your chauffeur to drive you to the Corso.

As you exited the car, the cool night air hit you like a refreshing wave, contrasting sharply with the heat of your nervousness. “Wait here,” you told the driver, hurrying towards the Snows' apartment. The street was quiet, the world seemingly paused in the wake of recent events.

At the Snows’ penthouse, you knocked a few times, your heart pounding with anticipation. The door creaked open slowly. It was Tigris, her usually bright demeanor replaced with a shadow of sorrow. Her face, streaked with tears, made your heart sink.

“Tigris, is everything alright?What happened? Where’s Coryo?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Tigris’s pitiful smile offered little comfort. She placed her hands gently on your shoulders, squeezing them in a gesture of uneasy sympathy. “I think you should talk to him. He’s in his room.”

The unease in her voice only deepened your worry. “Tigris, please, tell me what’s going on. I need to know.”

She sighed heavily, her voice a whisper. “It should be Coryo who tells you.”

Your patience snapped. You rushed to Coryo’s room, your mind racing. The Snows’ modest apartment, a reflection of their strained finances, was familiar to you, but tonight it seemed more forlorn than ever. You passed the grandmother, her stoic expression masking her own despair.

The door to Coryo’s room was ajar. You pushed it open gently and peered inside. “Coryo?” you called out softly.

He stood in the center of the room, his once confident presence now subdued. His back was turned to you. He was packing.

The ethereal glow that had surrounded him in the academy was gone, replaced by a deep, palpable sadness. He turned at the sound of your arrival. His usual calm demeanor was marred by a profound sorrow reflected in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft and weary, as if seeing you for the first and last time.

You rushed to him, your concern overflowing. “Is everything alright? What happened in the High Lab? Did Gaul hurt you?” Even the thought made your stomach twist.

He took a deep breath and guided you to sit on the edge of his bed. Then he began to explain: the rat compact, the rat poison, the incriminating handkerchief.

They had pieced it all together—the cheating, the deceit, and Highbottom’s decision to offer him a chance at redemption as a peacekeeper. The devastating conclusion was clear: banishment for twenty years.

As he spoke, the world seemed to collapse around you. The realization was like a punch to the gut—a cruel twist of fate. Coryo’s life, once filled with promise, was now reduced to ashes. There was no solution, no fixing this. This wasn't a schol assignment gone wrong, this was real life.

The dream you had cherished was burning down before your eyes.

“No, this… this can’t be happening,” you whispered, trying to grasp the enormity of it all.

“Yes, it can,” Coryo said bitterly. “It’s already decided.”

You struggled to hold back your tears. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow at dawn,” he murmured, his voice hollow. He couldn’t meet your gaze. The weight of failure and impending separation was too much for him to bear.

Your heart ached for him—this young man who had faced so much adversity and yet still carried the burden of his family’s future on his shoulders. The thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, was almost unbearable.

Coryo’s gaze finally met yours, and he saw the silent tears streaming down your cheeks. His own heart clenched with a new kind of pain. “Y/N,” he said desperately, “please don’t cry. I hate it when you do that.”

You tried to steady your breathing, but the tears kept coming. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m not ready to let you go, Coryo. It shouldn’t have ended like this.”

Coryo pulled you into his arms, letting your tears soak into his uniform. He held you tightly, his own despair mingling with the comfort he tried to offer. He hated feeling like this. Out of control. He couldn't help you. Hell he couldn't help himself.

You clung to him as if he were the only anchor in a stormy sea.

Eventually, you lay down together on his bed, your bodies intertwined. You traced random shapes on his chest, while he stared blankly at the ceiling. After a few quiet moments, you spoke softly, “Maybe I’ll be able to visit you someday.”

Coryo smiled sadly. “I doubt it. Even if you could, I wouldn’t want you around those district savages.” He said the last part bitterly, not hiding his hatred for the districts.

You countered gently, “Not everyone from the districts is terrible. Look at Lucy Gray—she’s from the districts and she’s wonderful.”

Coryo stiffened at the mention of Lucy Gray. “Lucy Gray is special. She’s not like the others. And she’s not from the districts. She’s Covey.” He clarified.

“If you say so,” you sighed, not wanting to argue. “Well, if we both survive, we’ll see each other in twenty years.”

Coryo fell silent at your words. You could sense something was troubling him.

“What’s bothering you, Coryo?” you asked, your gaze fixed on him. “And don’t lie to me. I can tell when something’s wrong.”

He hesitated, then spoke with a voice heavy with regret. “It’s just the thought that you’ll move on, have a family, and live a life without me. I won’t be part of it.”

Your heart ached at his words. “Oh, Coryo, you’ll always be part of my life. I’ll think of you every single day until my last breath.” You assured him.

Coryo’s eyes met yours with a mix of sadness and longing. “I won’t be the man who gives you children, who makes you the First Lady of Panem. I won’t be part of your future.”

The though of not having something that was rightfully his infuriated him.

At his words you were shook to your core. A pregnant silence followed.

As he spoke, you realized that your feelings for him—feelings you had tried to ignore—might not have been unrequited after all. The lingering touches and secret glances were not merely figments of your imagination.

Coryo was looking at you with a tenderness that spoke of deep, unspoken emotions.

Guided by an unknown force, you leaned closer, your breaths mingling. Your faces were inches apart, and then his lips were gently brushing against yours.

What began as a soft touch quickly turned into a passionate, fervent kiss. It was a culmination of all the emotions, fears, and unspoken words of the day. Coryo’s hands cradled your face with a tenderness that spoke of how much you meant to him.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him with the intensity of knowing that this might be the last time you ever could.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, both of you panting heavily. You embraced each other tightly, laying your head on his chest.

The silence between you was filled with everything that words could not express. Goodbye, I love you, I don’t want to lose you—each emotion was conveyed in that single, passionate kiss.

As you closed your eyes, trying to drift off to sleep despite the circumstances, you were acutely aware of every precious moment with Coryo.

You ignored the time and your parents’ warning, finding solace in his arms. His breathing eventually slowed to a steady rhythm, and you found comfort in his presence.

The pale moonlight streaming through the cracks in the wall was the only witness to this intimate moment between two young lovers facing an uncertain future.

Coryo’s arms remained around you, their embrace a fragile anchor amidst the turmoil.

As sleep threatened to overtake you, a profound sadness washed over you. You wished for a reality where everything had turned out differently—where Casca Highbottom’s cruelty hadn’t shattered your dreams. The future you had imagined with Coryo seemed to slip further away with each passing second.

In the dead of night, you whispered the truth that would haunt you forever, “You’re the loss of my life, Coriolanus Snow.”

© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

tags:

[shitsndgiggs]

Can I request something with Arda?

I don't know where I saw this, probably in a book or something but maybe a friends to lovers where they are watching a movie together and suddenly an heated make our scene comes up and the reader says something like "Oh to be kissed like that" with envy and Arda blurts our "I can do that" and they kiss in the end? You can add anything you'd like

Thank you! I love your writing <3

I CAN DO THAT - ARDA GÜLER

Arda showing you that he can kiss you just like in the movie

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of the TV screen casting shadows on the walls. Arda and I were sprawled out on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn as we watched a movie.

It was a quiet evening, just the two of us hanging out like we often did. We’d been friends for years, so these kinds of nights were nothing new—just us, some snacks, and whatever movie we decided to watch.

Tonight’s choice was a romantic drama, not really my usual pick, but Arda had convinced me that it was worth a watch. We were both relaxed, comfortably settled into the cushions, the air between us warm and familiar.

The movie had just reached its peak, the tension between the main characters building up until it finally exploded into a passionate, heated makeout scene.

I couldn’t help but watch with a bit of envy, a wistful sigh escaping my lips.

“Oh, to be kissed like that,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

It was meant to be a harmless comment, just an idle thought out loud. But the moment the words left my mouth, I noticed Arda shift beside me.

I turned my head slightly, expecting him to laugh it off or make a joke like he usually did. But instead, he was looking at me with an intensity that I hadn’t seen before.

“I can do that,” Arda blurted out, his voice low and a little uncertain, like he was surprised by his own words.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?” I asked, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest.

“I can do that,” he repeated, this time with more confidence, his eyes never leaving mine. “Kiss you like that.”

The air between us shifted, the playful, easygoing vibe suddenly replaced with something heavier, more charged.

I felt my cheeks heat up, my mind racing to process what he’d just said. We were friends—just friends—but there was something in his expression that made my heart skip a beat.

“Arda…” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish. What could I even say to that?

His gaze softened, but he didn’t back down. “I’m serious,” he said quietly, moving just a little closer, his knee brushing against mine. “I’ve… thought about it before, you know? Kissing you.”

My breath hitched, and I could barely find my voice. “You have?”

He nodded, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. “Yeah. A lot.”

We were so close now, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

The movie continued to play in the background, but it might as well have been silent for all I cared. All that mattered in that moment was him.

I didn’t know who moved first, whether it was me or him, but suddenly, there was no space left between us. His hand cupped my cheek, his touch gentle but sure, and then his lips were on mine.

The kiss started slow, almost hesitant, as if we were both testing the waters, unsure of what this meant for our friendship.

But then something shifted. The kiss deepened, the initial uncertainty giving way to something more intense, more real.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything we’d never said, all the feelings we’d kept buried, finally coming to the surface.

My hand found its way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer, wanting more, needing more.

Arda responded in kind, his other hand sliding to my waist, pulling me against him until there was no space left between us.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, both of us lost in the moment, in each other. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and more—passionate, tender, and filled with a kind of intensity that made my head spin.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, our foreheads resting against each other as we tried to catch our breath. My heart was still racing, and I could feel his doing the same.

“Wow,” I whispered, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Arda chuckled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek. “Yeah, wow.”

We sat there for a moment, just holding each other, the movie long forgotten. I didn’t know what this meant for us—whether we were still just friends, or if this was the start of something more.

But as I looked into his eyes, I knew one thing for sure.

I wanted more of this. More of him.

“So,” I said, still a little breathless, “can we do that again?”

Arda smiled, a look of pure affection in his eyes. “I’d like that.”

And with that, he leaned in, capturing my lips in another kiss that made my heart soar.

[the-blue-fairie]

Art by @shes-an-iso – commissioned by me and posted here with permission

Realization.

It is ten years ago and I am watching Frozen.

It is ten years ago and I am watching Elsa transform herself into her truest self, watching her spin threads of blue around herself, seizing power for herself – radical self-actualization.

The glint of Elsa’s ice dress reflects in my eyes as I watch Elsa strut into the sunlight – and I do not have words for why I am so moved.

I do not have words, but the shimmer stays.

It is ten years ago and I am choosing to become a part of the Frozen fandom.

I have lurked in fandom circles before, but never posted a thing, never made an account.

It is my first time being part of an online fan community – and, as awful as fandoms can be at times, this fandom – for me – ten years ago – is truly a community.

I begin to make friends in the Frozen fandom.

Some of these friends are trans.

The gleam of Elsa’s hair in the rose-gold dawn shines again in my eyes, and shyly, I begin asking questions of my friends.

Realization is nothing without the words to process it – and my friends give me words, my friends help me to understand.

I am a trans woman.

It is in this online space that I first take the name Liza for myself, since this online space is the only place that I can allow myself to be.

I build for myself. My blog is my own ice palace. What I cannot sculpt in daily life, I carve within online spaces – offering my writing, my thoughts, my edits, my soul to the world.

Everyone here knows me as Liza.

Even as I’m in the closet to my family for years, in here, I am Liza. My friends know me as I am, and as Liza is all they will ever know me.

But I am in the closet. For years.

(It’s why Do You Want to Build a Snowman still breaks me.)

In the closet more out of some misplaced sense of duty to my family than out of dread, though I am scared. Always scared. And then in the closet because I feel it’s better if I bury this. Not better for me, but for them. If I’m bleeding inside, it doesn’t matter. I can put on a show. I have fine-woven gloves. Well-taught decorum. Be the good girl you always have to be, etc.

(Maybe it’s my fault I’m in the closet for years. Anons on this site have told me that in the past. I don’t have it as bad as others in the closet, I’m just a coward, the fault is mine, the fault is mine…)

Fuck off.

(People blame Elsa for the thirteen years in the same way, placing the blame on her and not the tutelage that trained her, because her parents loved her, you see, and love becomes a convenient means of shifting blame to the victim.)

In June 2016, after the Pulse shooting, I make a post about how I’m never going to come out. I am terrified, heartbroken, mangled by grief – but my friends are there for me. My friends send me messages of support, of compassion.

I still cherish the memory of those.

Years pass. When I finally come out to my father, I can barely say the words, barely look him in the eye.

It is ten years since Frozen and I have come out to my family – far too late. I have been on HRT more than a year now.

(My dad still misgenders me when he thinks I’m out of earshot. He resents when I get frustrated with him over this.)

It is ten years since Frozen and I am Elsa on the North Mountain, staring into the whirlwind of an uncertain future, defiant and scared.

And I know – I know – that I didn’t process I was trans because of the film – it was because of the friendship of fellow trans people, trans people who happened to be Frozen fans a decade ago – but my journey of self-realization, my time in the closet, my creation of a sense of self, are so entwined with memories of Frozen that I can’t help but think of it when thinking about my own transition…

Can’t help but think of Elsa, hips swaying, arms outstretched, flashing, radiant –

Happy tenth anniversary, Frozen.

And thank you. Thank you.

(This is okay to reblog. In fact, please do. It is a sliver of my soul that I offer to the world.)

[wwereaderinserts]

What about finn x reader x damian;)

A/N: I'm not sure if it was smut you wanted or not anon but that's the path I ended up taking with this (I'm so sorry lmao) Title: Friendly Competition Pairing: Damian Priest x AFAB!Reader x Finn Balor Word Count: 1,650 Warnings: Smut, swears

Damian and Finn stare at each other in the heat of the moment, as though they’re simultaneously trying to register that this is happening and that they’ve both agreed to even go through with this with you tonight. To tell the truth, though, you have been rather sly with it all as the weeks, even months have gone by.

You’ve known all too well that both men have had their eye on you for a while now - just as you’ve been wanting both of them, too - and you’ve had them both eating out of the palm of your hand with every lingering touch, passing flirtatious comment, and fuck-me gaze you’ve respectively thrown their way that’s eventually led up to this moment.

The energy in the room right now is electric, a mixture of lust and pure excitement fizzling in the air. Damian and Finn both stand before you, stripped down to their boxers while you’re laying back on the bed in your own underwear, propping yourself up on your elbows as you look on at them both with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips as you revel in every single second of it.

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of friendly competition if it comes down to that, right?

“Oh, come on. Don’t look so nervous!” you giggle and lick your lips whilst ogling the two men in front of you, “Nothing we say or do leaves this room. Promise.”

You turn serious when you tell them the latter, and they can both sense the sincerity in your voice as they give each other a knowing glance followed by a nod of affirmation. They both still seem somewhat uncertain, probably more worried about their friendship drastically altering once the dust settles after this encounter, but their bodies react in a way that sends across a different message altogether.

You can see the outlines of their cocks through their boxers, both rock solid and begging to be freed, and knowing that it’s you that’s gotten them this worked up is enough in itself to make your pussy twitch and throb in anticipation.

“I’m serious, man,” Damian gives Finn a pointed stare, “If you ever try talking to me about this-”

“I won’t! C’mon, we’ll never speak of it. Never leaves this room.”

Finn reassures his friend, and after deciding they’ve wasted more than enough time when you’re sitting there half naked and waiting for them to make a move, they finally take the initiative and kick things off.

Any remaining apprehension seems to have now dissipated, with Damian smirking and sliding his boxers down while Finn mimics this. Both men are now fully exposed, their erect cocks standing at full attention to press against their stomachs while your gaze flits between them both, not knowing which one to focus on more.

Finn is the first to close the distance between you, pacing over to the bed to join you as he gently nudges you back to lay flat on the sheets. He towers over you, reaching out for you as he slides a calloused hand over a bra-clad breast and leans in to kiss and nip at your neck, earning a soft gasp and groan from you at the sensation.

Damian, however, is quick enough to sink to his knees at the foot of the bed, turning his attention to tugging your panties down and discarding them off to one side before he’s nudging your legs apart to expose your already glistening pussy to him.

He buries his face between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue while Finn’s lips trail along your jawline before they meet your own for a passionate kiss. Damian’s skillful tongue finds a rhythm that soon has you panting, and Finn earns a moan from you in response when he tugs your bra down with one hand to free your tits and brush his thumb over your nipple.

“How’s that feel, hm?” Finn momentarily breaks the kiss to purr in your ear, “He makin’ you feel good?”

Words fail you in this moment, and you simply whimper in hopes of it being perceived as one of a positive response to Finn’s question despite the fact it may have only been rhetorical to begin with.

The room is filled with the wet sounds of your combined exploration, your moans and their grunts and growls mingling in an erotic symphony. Damian continues to lap up every last drop of your essence, leaving you writhing in Finn’s arms where you lay on the bed, but it isn’t until you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the precipice of your orgasm that Damian abruptly halts his ministrations altogether and rises back to his feet to stand at full height.

You whine at the sudden loss of contact, agitated that he’d ripped your sweet release away from you when you were right there, but you’re very quick to forgive and forget when clarity hits you and you lock eyes with Damian.

“Not yet, baby. Wanna feel you cum around my cock instead.”

Damian is quick to placate you. He stands before you, his thick cock in his hand, stroking himself while he gives Finn a silent nod of the head. Finn seemingly understands the signal, and he pulls away from you, repositioning himself to kneel in front of you on the bed instead.

Finn gently pulls you up, repositioning you on all fours on the bed instead. He laces his fingers through your hair with one hand, giving it a gentle tug to angle your head and force you to gaze up at him while his other hand languidly strokes his cock.

“Go on, suck it.”

He commands, his voice thick with need. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around the head, suckling lightly at first before you start taking him deeper, eager to please him, and you definitely deliver. Finn groans and keeps his fingers in your hair, lightly encouraging you to take even more of him while he subtly thrusts into your mouth and mutters out strings of praises that you don’t quite catch.

“You ready, baby? Gonna put it in now, okay?”

Damian asks from behind you, stepping forward with his cock in his hand before rubbing the head along your folds, now glistening from your juices, and lining himself up at your entrance. He’s still watching you with Finn, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of your head bobbing up and down his length, taking him in and out of your mouth.

Finn’s eyes meet Damian’s momentarily as the two men look up at the same time, the fierce desire in each man’s eyes only serving to fuel their respective anticipation. Damian pushes into you with one swift motion, burying himself to the hilt with a deep moan.

Albeit muffled, a whine escapes you, the sensation of being filled by both men in different ways overwhelming you. Finn’s hand tightens in your hair, pulling you further down on his cock while Damian takes you from behind, both men’s groans of pleasure mingling with your own increasingly desperate moans.

You can barely take it much longer, trailing one hand between your legs to rub at your clit while the other darts between the bed and Finn’s thigh in an attempt to keep yourself upright. Tears of sheer bliss begin to streak your cheeks as the duo find a brutal rhythm, their lust only escalating as they completely lose themselves in the pleasure.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Damian relentlessly fucks you from behind, and your fingers dig into Finn’s thighs while you gag around his cock. Your nimble fingers rub deft circles around your clit, desperately willing yourself to tip over the edge at long last.

Damian feels it, too. He knows how close you are, and it only makes him fuck into you even harder, his movements more aggressive in his attempt to get you exactly where you want and need to be.

“Oh, you gonna cum?” Finn pants out, “Tap or squeeze my thigh twice if you’re gonna cum, yeah?”

He asks, and not even a full second passes by before you’re fulfilling his request. This only fuels Finn more, his own thrusts growing erratic as the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat repeatedly to elicit even more audible gags from you.

It’s all too much for you. The coil within you finally snaps, giving you quite possibly the most intense orgasm you can recall experiencing. Your walls clench and convulse around Damian’s cock while your cries of pure ecstasy are muffled by Finn’s, your eyes screw shut and you see nothing but hot, white light as you ride out your orgasm.

The feeling of you vice-gripping Damian’s cock is all it takes for him. He cums with a guttural groan, slumping himself over your back but stopping you from taking the brunt of the weight at the same time as he spills himself inside you, while Finn’s hot seed coats the back of your throat while his cock twitches and pulses in your mouth when he finally hits his peak, and you do him the courtesy of swallowing every last drop.

You slump forward slightly, barely catching your balance as you begin coming down from your high, withdrawing your mouth from Finn’s cock to finally catch your breath properly. Damian pulls out of you, slipping off to the side to collapse onto the bed to your left. Finn slumps back towards the headboard, both men's’ breathing ragged as they take a well deserved breather before you all clean up.

Though you’re all breathless and spent right now, too exhausted to fully register what’s transpired, one thing is certain - though nothing said and done will ever leave this room, it’s certainly not an evening any of you will soon forget.

[soulkeeper801]

Crush - Twice Sana

Requested:  May I request Sana caught reader having a crush on her

Sana x f!reader

Fluff

Words: 882

You couldn't help but feel your heart race every time Sana entered the room. 

Her presence was like a gentle breeze that brushed against your skin, leaving you with a tingling sensation that lingered long after she was gone. 

You tried to hide your feelings, burying them deep within, afraid of the potential consequences if you were to reveal the truth.

You found yourself drawn to every little detail about her – the way her eyes sparkled with laughter, the curve of her lips when she smiled, and the sound of her voice that seemed to soothe your soul. 

You longed to tell her how you felt, but the fear of rejection and the uncertainty of her feelings held you back.

In the quiet moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to hold her hand, to feel her lips against yours, to share your life with her. 

But those dreams remained locked away, a world of possibilities that seemed just out of reach.

You found solace in the stolen glances, in the shared laughter and the little inside jokes that only the two of you understood. 

You treasured every moment spent with her, cherishing each memory like a precious gem.

Sometimes, you wondered if she had any inkling of your affection. Did she notice the way your eyes lingered on her, the way your voice faltered when you spoke to her? Or were you just another friend to her, nothing more?

You watched as she interacted with others, trying to decipher any signs that she might feel the same way. But the more you looked for clues, the more uncertain you became. 

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a cliff, wanting to take the leap but held back by the fear of what lay below.

You confided in your closest friends, seeking their advice and comfort. They told you to be brave, to take the risk and tell her how you felt. But it was easier said than done. 

The fear of losing her friendship, the fear of being rejected, was too overwhelming.

So you remained silent, content with being by her side as a friend, knowing that this unspoken love was all you could give. 

You supported her through her ups and downs, celebrating her successes and offering a shoulder to lean on during tough times.

In your heart, you knew that your feelings for her were real and true. They were a part of you, woven into the fabric of your being. 

But for now, you chose to keep them hidden, preserving the friendship that meant so much to you.

“You know,” Sana said, fixing her gaze on you through the mirror. She was putting lipstick on before going back to the set where the rest of the girls were. “I’ve seen you staring”.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“W-what?”

She got up from her chair and turned around to face you. “I’ve noticed your gaze lingers on me for a while before I look at you,” she continued. “And you quickly look away, not allowing me to look at those beautiful eyes”.

You gulped at her words, not understanding what was happening at all.

“I’m not really good at reading signs and as delusional as I can be, I hoped with all my heart that I wasn’t just imagining things,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers, “I even asked the girls and they have been pushing me to confront you for weeks now”.

“S-sana…” you breathed out, your cheeks burning, trying to decide if you were going to deny everything or take a risk, the biggest risk you could ever take.

She giggled. “I noticed the way you look at me, the way your eyes sparkle when we talk,” her eyes still on yours, “and when we are together," she continued, her smile growing more radiant, "you seem to light up. Your entire demeanor changes, as if I have the power to bring joy into your world with just my presence. It is kind of adorable, actually."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. Everything she was saying was real, you felt embarrassed it wasn’t as subtle as you thought it was.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your cheeks burning as she took a couple of steps towards you.

She found you extremely cute. 

“I can tell you like me,” she stated, capturing your hand with hers and placing it on her cheek. “I’m just making it easier for the both of us”.

Your eyes widened. 

And she chuckled again.

“You’re so cute,” she said with a big smile, “I was waiting for you to say anything but I decided I had to step up”.

“Sana, I like you”.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” she whispered, before finally catching your lips with hers. 

After a couple of seconds you pulled back to look at her face. It was happening. Sana liked you back. All of that time thinking it was a one sided thing, Sana was actually waiting for you to do something.

A big smile formed on your face as she caressed your cheek. 

“Kiss me again?” you asked in a whisper.

Sana didn’t have to be asked twice.

[lxmelle]

Gojo Satoru Q&A thoughts.

So these leaked early on X/formerly Twitter, but some of the Japanese are sensitive to spoilers (it’s rather frowned upon) so I didn’t have anywhere to dump my thoughts but here 😅

Spoilers for the GIGA special Gojo Satoru book ahead. (Only a few I wanted to comment on - I’m sure someone would’ve posted all 33 questions and the answers already 😆)

Apparently Gojo looks like he is a cat person but he probably likes dogs. Gege uses a lot of vague/uncertain language here. (I guess he’s making it as if Gojo is a character of his own right and not that he, as the creator, knows everything about.)

My HC: to me it seems, like on the surface, he may appreciate an aloof character, but he probably likes someone loyal and won’t leave him.

Maybe that’s what he is like as well; he as a “dog personality” would be doggedly loyal to one person and, uh, he has a good nose too. Y’knowww… Good nose … for sniffing out the specific cursed energy of his friend Geto Suguru, lol. 😂

Honestly, I’d like to think that after this life, they both learned how to be more sensibly and healthily codependent for their next life / in the afterlife.

So: Don’t let Geto run away again Gojo… Geto isn’t the kind of person you can just leave alone. 🥺

And Geto, don’t leave Gojo behind again, he doesn’t think you’re replaceable, so don’t think you’re unwanted or that you need to save Gojo & leave on your own again.

Gojo was born special and was both feared and revered in equal measure. Separated from his parents from a young age he likely didn’t know of friendship and companionship or unconditional love until Geto came along. He didn’t interact with friends because of his status / background. He was brought on missions and his education was pretty strict. Because he was clever, it was probably dull pretty quickly.

He was likely treated like there was always a barrier around him and that he needed to be nurtured as a talent/resource/figurehead without much love as a human being.

Geto was probably one of the first people to see him as Gojo Satoru as well as who he was as a sorcerer. This was probably new to him, and he experienced / felt it enough to feel very attached to Geto. His ease was shown in his carefree, happy attitude and smiling expressions throughout HI.

Gojo probably got away with many things in his childhood as he tried to rebel and have fun. Didn’t have anyone he could stand head to head / toe to toe with until he met Geto.

Gojo was wealthy. Had a salary too. And, very likely didn’t know of loss or poverty. The former, until Geto left. The latter, never did. My HC is that it made it difficult for him to sympathise with strife / struggling to achieve something... seeing as he never knew what insecurity could feel like? It made things more challenging for him to develop empathy. Further, as a talented genius who grasped things easily, it’s true that Gege described him as a talent from birth and Geto was more of a talent through hard work. Gojo could not relate to others until he experienced suffering and loss himself. 😢

His only complex was probably being unable to stop Geto. For the first time he wanted something but he couldn’t have it. To be given everything but being able to do nothing. Realised people have pride and wills of their own and their lives ought to be respected.

After Geto left, Gojo became more aware of his responsibility for the next generation of sorcerers. This was thanks to the wound... I guess.

“To be given everything, but be unable to do anything.” comes to mind - this is in reference to his DE unlimited void. Doesn’t it encapsulate what Gojo was? He, on the surface, had everything... and yet, it also bound him. Trapped to be this person that fulfilled a role. The latest chapter with Yuji and Sukuna touches on that. Riko’s life paralleled this to some degree too - treated as special from birth to fulfil some purpose.

Gojo probably only ever really wanted one thing and it was his friendship with Geto, but he couldn’t have it. He could not save his best friend. He was supposed to be strong - but it wasn’t enough just to be strong. Alone.

It is no wonder he had a complex. He hung onto remnants of his best friend for years. I’ve read some Japanese twitter users lamenting on how it’s strange to change their first-person pronoun just because a friend mentioned it. Gojo became a teacher because of what happened. So it really cut him deep to have witnessed Geto leaving and him being so helpless.

That’s all I had to say. Sorry for the abrupt end. 🫡

[yenalogyy]

Nakamura Kazuha | Been a while III

Y/N had been spending more time than usual staring at his phone, exchanging messages with an old friend from his school days. It had only been a day since he reconnected with her after the years, and their conversations had brought a touch of brightness to his otherwise gloomy routine.

That evening, he met up with his close friend, Han, at a local cafe. Han noticed his unusually happy expression as he stared at his phone.

"Why are you so cheerful today? Sus." Han asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked up, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I've been texting with an old friend from school. We're catching up."

Han's eyes widened with realization. "Is it Kazuha?"

He did not give a reply, only giving a look of surprise that he was able to guess it the first time. He got up, being surprised that he was right and celebrated with him.. "That's great! You've been so down lately, it's nice to see you in a better mood. Are you planning to tell her how you feel?"

His expression grew thoughtful, and he took a sip of his coffee before replying. "I'm not sure, Han. We've reconnected as friends, and I don't want to jeopardize that."

Han nodded understandingly. "I understand. Sometimes, it's better to cherish the friendship you have. Just make sure you don’t regret it."

As the evening turned into night, Y/N decided to take a leisurely walk through his neighborhood to clear his mind. He needed some time to think about his feelings for Kazuha and the uncertain path ahead.

As he strolled down the quiet streets, he never expected to run into Kazuha once again. She was walking alone, seemingly lost in thought.

"Zuha?" He greeted her, his voice filled with surprise.

Kazuha looked up, a hint of guilt flickering across her face before she quickly masked it with a warm smile. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just taking a walk. What about you?"

She hesitated for a moment before replying, "Oh, nothing much, just needed some fresh air."

There was something in Kazuha's tone that made him wonder if she was hiding something, but he decided not to press the issue.

As he and Kazuha continued their conversation, they decided to take a leisurely walk together through the quiet streets. The evening air grew cooler, and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. There was an undeniable tension between them, a feeling that there was something left unsaid.

I can’t take this.

“Zuha-“ “Y/N-“

Both of them said the other’s name at the same time, as they looked at each other before laughing at the situation.

“You first.” He said.

“Okay. You know, it’s funny how we used to be comfortable with each other during our high school days, but look at us now. Being awkward and all.”

“Yeah… Can’t help it, can we? We didn’t exactly have the best way of parting with each other.”

“And I’m sorry for that. You know how my father is, right? Always making decisions on his own. I’m just afraid that he might make me come home at this moment.”

He giggled at the last sentence.

“Let’s just hope not. Because I’m enjoying the moment we have right now, before… you know.”

She could only look at him, not giving an answer. The both of them knew what was gonna happen, yet they chose to be in the moment.

Untold feelings were all over their mind as tension rises, as the next sentence he asked made it even more.

“Would you like to come over?”

[haechanhues]

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

S I D E : A

word count : 1k

warnings : implied sex. very suggestive. no hate towards cookies. A possibility of ‘i’d never wear that’ and kind of an implied body type but not necessarily.

After the whole fiasco with Na Jaemin, you felt next to nothing when your surface level friendship dissolved into a pile of dust. Because you had found a friend in Lee Haechan. A soulmate, maybe. 

You thought it was love when you hooked up on a tipsy night out together. Your hands tangled in his hair and the taste of beer on his tongue. He made you feel very special. That night and a couple of nights afterwards. You weren’t a stranger to his bed, but you weren’t a stranger to his heart either and it was of the beautiful kind. 

You thought it was love when he insisted you try the popular dessert place in town. You dressed up as did he and he paid for it. The laugh you spluttered after he put the dessert in his mouth and screwed his face up, you’re pretty sure it was a laugh of love. . You’re certain you caused a scene with all your laughing but with a forced polite smile, he led you to the grocery store. 

“Pick something,” Haechan insisted, cocking his head to the items in the aisle, “We’re gonna do some proper baking so I can get the taste of cream out of my mouth.” 

“Cream,” You laugh. 

He mocked your giggle good naturedly, “Yes, cream.” 

You reached for the cheapest chocolate chip cookie box, missing his judgemental stare to the side of your face. He reached forward, urgently returning the box back to where you got it despite your pleas of confusion and resistance. 

“If I’m gonna get dirty doing some shit baking, we are making something more than basic bitch cookies. Pick something good, c’mon. Think ‘food porn’ not ‘bake sale.” 

You thought it was love when he decorated your face with more icing than said baking and when he kissed you, making a mess out of the two of you with fluffy pink swirls of cream-like sugar. 

And when you had told him about Yuta, about Hendery and about Park Jisung, you knew it was love. Definite love. One that was returned. 

“I love you,” You confessed, four months after befriending him by chance.

“I love you too,” Haechan smiled, cupping your cheek and swiping at a stray eyelash underneath your eye. 

You didn’t feel like he was lying, because he wasn’t. You liked that you knew it too. That he didn’t make you play a guessing game that catered to him. Nor did he feel the need to assert it at every chance he got. 

It’s a love that remains and will continue to remain a love you can never explain but one that you and Haechan will just…get. 

He tells you about his friends, Na Jaemin sometimes included. He nicknames them. His friend with a lot of pent up anger was Grizzly, who Haechan tells you has been receiving a Haechan-special rehab in which he’s learning to be a little sweeter and to take his anger out on other things (games, for one). The other, Clumsy in which Haechan acts all cool about but in reality is very protective of him. He says that he’s someone clumsy and needs a lot of looking after. 

You think he’s sweeter when he tells you these things. 

He has a lot of friends, but Grizzly and Clumsy are the two you’re most familiar with and the ones Haechan talks the most about. 

When you had gone to get ready to go on a date with someone that wasn’t Haechan or anyone remotely important (you forgot his name and didn’t even end up staying for even three minutes.) 

You bit your lip uncertain, eyes zigzagging back and forth between the mirror and Haechan’s sitting frame, his eyes dark and appreciative. You were wearing a sparkly red, with a slight slit going up the side of your thigh. 

“I don’t know,” You pouted, picking at your flaws. 

Haechan sighed with a good-natured roll of his eyes, standing up alongside you before heading to your wardrobe, pulling out another dress by the coat hanger. You watch him, interested, before reaching out to receive it only for him to regard you judgmentally. 

“What are you doing?” 

What? 

Your chin pulls back in confusion, “Huh? The dress-” 

“This is for me,” Haechan scoffs, undressing in front of you. You try not to gawk at his body that you have admittedly seen and enjoyed for months now. In fact, you like Haechan so much you’re not even totally sure why you’re going on a date in the first place. 

Wait…. 

“You?” 

Haechan cocks an eyebrow at you, “Yeah, me. Confidence, babe.” 

You giggle, watching as he slips the dress over his body, before checking himself out in the mirror, “Is my bulge bulging?” 

Unable to help it, your eyes drop straight down to the area, seeing the imprint of it through the fabric of your dress, “A bit.” 

“Pervert,” Haechan narrowed his eyes. 

“You asked!” You bickered back with him. Laughter in your tone. 

“Yeah to check not to gawk at me and bite your lip,” Haechan asserted sassily. 

“And when did I ‘bite my lip’ huh?” You teased back. Haechan casted a faux look of disgust your way and you couldn’t help the way your whole body tingled with excitement. 

With the silence, he pulled the dress down and straightened out the fabric and you admired the way the dress fit him. Somehow you felt he could pull it off a little bit better than you. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Haechan reprimanded, cupping your face in his hands, “You look gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. In fact, when you’re done with this date, I want to take you out in the same dress. Not tonight…but another time.” 

“I hope you’re dressed like that too,” You comment to which he grins before pressing a chaste sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Seriously, you feel like you’re floating. 

You ask yourself again, for the nth time that night why you were going on a date with a different guy when something was clearly drawing you in to Haechan. 

S I D E : B

THE SERIAL LOVER

in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering. 

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

masterlist | prev | next

taglist : @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @90s-belladonna @scftharu @ahnneyong @liliansun

[juniperhillpatient]

my strong opinion of the day apropos of nothing just putting it out there is that people who don’t think Zuko & Azula could ever completely reconcile are super wrong both within the context that this is a story & there’s a narrative & within the context that IRL family is a wild thing & you absolutely can get through some crazy shit. Like…. This isn’t the real world? It’s a fantasy story & ultimately it is about the power of love & friendship & forgiveness. If the Gaang can fully forgive Zuko & become good friends with him in the context of the story after he terrorized them - hired an ASSASSIN to kill them - etc - I’m pretty sure Zuko & Azula could talk out their shit once Ozai is absent & work it out?? Why on earth not?? That’s a hypothetical question, I’ve heard all the arguments why not. I just disagree. Anyway haven’t y’all ever had a serious issue with a family member that was resolved? c’mon family is complicated.

the fire siblings actually get along pretty well when they’re not military enemies? they just need to see each other’s perspectives which isn’t really a crazy concept at all, they could totally do that. Zuko learns to question everything he’s grown up being taught. it’s completely realistic for him to understand his sister a little better.

And like, the show is SUPER clear about what the story is about it’s literally spelled out for us in no uncertain terms in ‘The Avatar & the Firelord’???

“Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil. [Cut to an aerial shot of the hardened lava wave.] Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance. [Shot cuts to a close-up of Aang's face.] And I also think it was about friendships.”

btw this isn’t a post about how the show is so bad & biased against Azula I totally believe if there was another season she would’ve been redeemed, there just wasn’t time. this is just a post about how I fully believe Azula could yes COMPLETELY reconcile with her brother & yes, become good friends with the Gaang. Like there’s just really no good reason why not in my personal opinion

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 4x05 Rejoined thoughts (I’m re-watching, so beware spoilers for future episodes!)

[28 June '23]

"It's a trick!" "Of course it's a trick!" Oh, Quark 😆

"Painfully shy, introverted, a slight lack of confidence, just the kind of person who might want to dazzle the world with his magical abilities." - Okay, new headcanon that Julian is speaking from experience from when he was younger - he decided magic tricks would be how he'd make friends at new schools.

Interesting camera angle from Sisko's window

"Am I that dispensable around here?" "We'll never notice you're gone." I love their easy friendship and joking <3

"I'll be fine." That waver in her voice though ~

I love that Kira is the one who extensively knows Jadzia's lives. And I love how it really feels like they are all - even Quark - really, actually friends now.

The way Kira breaks into laughter at Julian's trick, I love her smile!

Kira's little touch of his arm, I live for platonic displays of affection.

"The Trill feel very strongly that it's unnatural." "Unnatural?" I LOVE Kira! Her outrage is just SO cathartic

"I don't understand how two people who've fallen in love, and made a life together, can be forced to walk away from each other because of a taboo." I know DS9 could generally have hit harder on LGBT topics, but this is Actually Very Good

"Curzon was even late for his hundredth birthday party." "You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?" Interesting that she switched from Ben's use of Curzon to "me" - highlighting how much she is the other hosts as well as herself.

"I'll be fine," she says, while pinning her badge on upside-down. 😅

"What do Klingons dream about?" I love Kira's gaiety and curiosity here

Hah! Had forgotten Worf's "Things that would send cold chills down your spine and wake you in the middle of the night. It is better you do not know. Excuse me." Okay I do like his deadpan humour.

"Quite an audience." "Seems a shame to disappoint them. Maybe we should do something." Their entire conversation at the party is electric

That purposeful look away they both do when the guy leaves them alone on the bridge.

"That's because you were a pilot and it made me nervous. Made her nervous. Torias being a pilot made Nilani nervous." The mixing up of pronouns - I love how complex the whole situation is allowed to be

"And whatever part of me is still Torias is very sorry and wishes he'd listened to you." - Lenara's nod of acknowledgment.. ohhh, I knew this episode was amazing but I'd forgotten just how compelling and emotional the threads all the way through were

"Would you be interested in dinner? I mean, I'm having dinner with some friends and I thought you might like to go along." I've never seen Jadzia this uncertain of herself!

Pffff Jadzia you made all that up about having dinner with friends?! You've got it baaad

"Something tells me I should say no, but you know I won't." Oh, Julian. And that kiss on the cheek!

Julian's so sulky, my goodness, what a child (affectionate)

Their chemistry is SO - JUST - Y'KNOW

No, I can't even, his little face is so scrunchy! I'm sorry ladies, let's go back and rewatch you rather than Julian being too ridiculous.

"Curzon would be horrified I'm a scientist." I thought Jadzia was a scientist before getting joined so didn't he know?

"The irony is, you and I have more in common than Torias and Nilani ever did." And that is what makes a tragedy 💔

Julian's complete startlement when he's hailed on comms 😂

"I think he enjoyed himself... Maybe not." You think? Especially if you were going through the highlights of your life he's already heard :p

Lenara just giving her the earrings!!! Like it's nothing!!! Like it's not deeply romantic!! I cannot be normal about these two!!!

"There is nothing going on, alright?" But you wish it were, don't you, Lenara?

Jadzia's so pretty in her gown and hair down (she's always pretty shhhh)

"I don't want to do anything to hurt you." Guyssss

Jadzia's brief touch to Lenara's face and forcing herself to take her hand away I cannn't

"I missed you." Oh boy the first time watching this thinking they were going to kiss? But no, and being disappointed but not wholly surprised, it's the 90s BUT NO WHAT'S THIS, they actually DO KISS and it's just so tender. This episode has my entire heart o swear.

I hate that this reasoning why Jadzia should stay away - that the consequence of exile would impact Dax the symbiont - makes sense (even if the taboo doesn't). And that Benjamin can sound so reasonable in trying to dissuade her.

"But I also know I love her, Benjamin." MY HEART

"If you're sure, if this is what you really want, I will back you all the way." After all the other arguments, thank you Ben, that means a lot. <3

Actually, no - it's weird that Dax is seen as a passive part of this decision - the poor symbiont who'll die if Jadzia gets herself exiled - but it's Dax who also, as far as I understand, very much has feelings for Kahn and Nilani, just as much as Jadzia does for Lenara et al. So Dax should also have a say through their link woth their host if they want to choose love over exile.

Jadzia's striding down the corridor to rescue Lenara (and others, ofc)

"I don't want to lose you, not again." "Not again. Never again. Never again. Never." MY HEART, DAMN YOU 90S, WORF WAS NO REPLACEMENT FOR THIS

Jadzia getting down eagerly onto her knees as she asks Lenara to stay. She's so sure she'll accept! And why shouldn't she be!

"Everyone is trying to look out for us. Protect us from ourselves." THIS IS STILL SO RELEVANT

"I can always come back later." I can't help thinking, what if she did change her mind a few years later... Maybe in that 3 month window between season 6 and 7? ... Why am I making myself sad like this? 😭😭😭

The way their eyes meet. Fuck this episode. (affectionate)

God, Jadzia was a wreck over that phasing-planet guy - what she's going to be like over Lenara who she's known for centuries? I just wanna hug her

This is just such a good story though, like even without the gay metaphor and actual gayness, aliens having dilemmas over their society's morality is fascinating, and the Trill very much so!

[tiredelirium]

D.1

Sometimes I want to write about how I feel.

Sometimes I want others to read it.

But most of the time I don’t actually know if I even want anything at all.

I wonder if people I know talk about me when they’re bored or even just making conversation. If they’re mean about me. If they’re curious about me.

I’ve never been very good at interacting with others in the long term. Currently relationships don’t exist for me really. There’ve been times I’ve tried with friendships and partners, but it never seems honest or real.

One sided might seem too harsh.

I know others have tried to reach out, but I’m bad at accepting that hand.

Even now, its 2 AM on a Wednesday, oh though I guess that makes it Thursday now, and here I am writing thoughts out loud on a Tumblr as if i’m making any sense.

To anyone reading this, don’t start to get the wrong idea about what i’m doing with this. (You know who you are and how you think.) I’m just airing out the hollows of my mind and heart.

People (hopefully plural) talk to themselves all the time, in different ways. Maybe their mind races a mile a minute and the only way they can think clearly is to speak out loud. Maybe they speak so that they can better visualise their thoughts as they do so. Maybe its easier to find answers if you speak out loud.

So thats what this is.

Me speaking out loud.

I don’t have anything going for me, that’s the truth from my own perspective.

Self doubt. Body dysmorphia. Introversion. Disappointment. Sadness. Regret. It’s all there, buried beneath a smile i maintain for my parents, sisters, nieces and nephews. Something I’d never show them because it would worry them.

Its funny, I only really started to notice the fake smile I put on for others when I started work, which I was late to getting too. Most everyone would call that a fortune, not having to work for so long, but it stunted me I think. I mean, my lack of personal skills is clear as day to me anyway, though that could be the self doubt talking. Silences in communication drag on for so long. Others try to fill the void but all I can offer is an affirmation, a made up lie, or a smile that feels so fraudulent I want to down an entire beer just to see if that brings up something real. Inhibitions gone.

I don’t want to disappoint others, but trying feels false. And that leads to not trying at all. Which leads to relationships collapse, or a drift apart so long that no amount of bravery could see me reaching out to close that gap.

Around mid college, a foundation year, I started going out with a girl in my class. We were kinda forced together by other classmates we were close to, but it wouldn’t be a lie to say I liked her and I considered her a friend I got to know over a handful of months. We were into a lot of the same stuff, some bands, some games, some art. It made sense to try going out, but the first move was made when we were drunk. A kiss on a couch in a bar at 2AM with our friends watching us from around the corner.

Then university came. We went to different places, having already made decisions and had interviews long before we started dating. She asked me if I wanted us to keep dating, and I agreed. I liked her. It made sense, despite the distance between the places we’d go. And it was far.

University had its ups and downs, though I had far more downs. The course I chose was mostly because I had no interest in anything else and was uncertain. Art is subjective, it always will be, even if you produce something thats sympathetic to the masses doesn’t mean it’ll sell well or earn a living. My girlfriend was brilliant at art, and knew what she wanted to make. I was below average at best and though I had ideas nothing ever came out the way I intended it too.

Distance was hard. But it worked for us. We made time for eachother, perhaps too much time honestly. I don’t really know if she made any long lasting friends in her class outside of her flatmates. I know I didn’t, but thats a me condition I think. We visited each other during breaks, whether it was meeting up halfway or one of us visiting the other, it was always great to see her.

But.

I messed up.

After university, I struggled a lot with direction. My final grade was nowhere near good enough to guarantee any kind of role anywhere significant if I’d made connections. At the end of the day my lack of efforts weren’t even good enough to matter and I spent the majority of my second and third year playing catchup. I technically failed that course. Because of a single essay marked by someone who failed me by a single point and cost my entire second year grade. An essay i’d been told by the tutor who helped me write up and review it had said wouldn’t affect any final grade. I spent the first half of my third year making up that mistake with extra work and my third year work suffered for it.

I came home. So did she. And I spent some time looking for work. I applied for art-related jobs in our area at first. Screen printing, editing. But never got any responses back, because of how these processes go now and because they were scarce to begin with. I didn’t, and still don’t, believe I had the talent to be freelance in any way. It was disheartening and so I started to, little by little, reduce those aspirations.

She got a job within two months. A retail gig, but in a store she’d have a lot of knowledge on the products for. She could start saving. Meanwhile I was burning through the money I had left from university. By going so far away from home, my living grants were larger, and my third year place bad been significantly cheaper rent wise than my second year one, so I had about £500. After a year and a half that money was basically all gone. Spent on split-payment dates with my girlfriend, birthday presents for family, and stuff I just wanted.

And still I had no luck on job searching, to the point she didn’t believe I was looking. I sent out applications every week to different places. Got a video interview, a civil exam, and a slew of “we’re looking for other people” rejection emails.

I started giving up. I saw myself as a burden to this woman who could go and Do Things with the talent and work ethic she had.

Thats when I messed up.

My biggest regret, after five years together, I decided I needed to break up with her.

For weeks we’d started drifting apart, my own self doubt and inability to communicate properly at the fore. I messaged back less and less, and we’d arrange to meet up less. At first this was because I had no money left I could spend, but thats just an excuse. I loved her and I hurt her.

We broke up after she’d just got off work. I’d said we needed to talk and she’d intuited. She’d already mentioned a break up possibility not too long ago. But that might’ve been my mind making up another excuse. She asked me to bring some of her stuff from my parent’s place and I did.

We were in public, after I met her outside her work and we walked for a bit to a spot nearby. I wonder if passersby were curious what was going on when we sat down on a bench rarely used.

I lied.

I said I’d fallen out of love with her. Used little things from our past as fake reasons. Her lack of trust in me and any intentions toward other girls, because I was a guy from her point of view though that may have been grounded in something else. Her use of recreational drugs in the past multiple times without telling me, because i’d told her I wasn’t a fan of it.

I lied.

I still loved her.

But I couldn’t find work. And she wanted to move out of her parents place as soon as possible, and moving into my parents place wasn’t an option for her, and getting a place of our own wasn’t feasible without savings of any kind. I was an anchor who wanted to break the chain so the ship could go free.

Excuses.

I broke up with her and she got up and left with her things. I stayed for a second before standing up myself to leave. But then she came back, hugged me one last time. It was painfully tight. I didn’t cry, or protest. Because that would’ve given my lies away. I just accepted and reciprocated, and then she was gone.

I don’t doubt she cried on the way home and maybe through the night. Maybe she was mean about me. Maybe she was curious. Maybe she didn’t care at all.

I didn’t cry when we broke up, because I was in the wrong. She messaged me, maybe a few days after, asking if she was still allowed to talk to me. I couldn’t respond. Didn’t know how. Didn’t want to keep hurting her.

I cried later, when she thought I hated her.

Feelings are complicated and painful, and I hope if you read this up to now, yours aren’t too hard to bear. I know it hurts. My heart still aches in the quiet of every night. I hope you can find comfort in the words that you’ll be alright.

And I’m sorry.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

Claudine awkwardly shifted the mug in his hands and tried his best not to keep looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t see through it, couldn’t see how Alia was doing by looking up, and yet somehow he couldn’t help his attention from drifting that way, just in case.

Soft footsteps on the kitchen floor drew his attention towards the doorway. Gemima looked paler than he remembered, but he guessed some of that was his fault. He could have tried stopping Alia from carrying on with everything as soon as he realised who she was; as soon as he realised the real danger that they were all in. And yet he’d done nothing because she was good.

‘She’s a good kid,’ he said softly, watching as Gemima moved to sit at the island counter. The fact she was now taller than him didn’t go unnoticed; a reminder that this was her domain.

‘She is,’ Gemima said fiercely, any weariness on her face gone in an instant. ‘I want the truth, Rich.’

A rueful smirk pulled at his lips. It’d been a long time since anybody had called him that.

‘I mean it,’ she said firmly. ‘Al won’t tell me anything and...’ She huffed out a deep breath, and Claudine felt the urge to hug her, to offer her some sort of comfort. But they weren’t at that stage in rekindling an old friendship. ‘She’s in danger, isn’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Claudine admitted regretfully. ‘She was in danger as soon as she picked up a magic book. As soon as she read from it.’

There was the barest flicker of disbelief behind Gemima’s eyes at his words. It was a testament to what she’d already seen, the toll it was all taking on her, that she didn’t argue his word choice. Didn’t question the truth behind magic being real.

‘But she’s good, Gem,’ he assured her softly. ‘Just... a little reckless.’

‘Oddly like somebody else I can think of,’ she said, a slight teasing tone behind her voice.

Claudine felt a small smile tug at his lips.

A floorboard creaked, drawing all attention to the ceiling once more. But it had been too loud to be Alia. She had to still be asleep; she had to be.

‘Rufus seems nice,’ Claudine noted, before carefully taking a sip of his too hot coffee.

‘He’s a good man,’ Gemima said, a slightly defensive tone behind the words that made Claudine cringe; he hadn’t meant to bring her walls up like that.

‘I’m glad you’re happy.’

‘Are you?’ Gemima asked softly.

Claudine forced himself not to look up at her, recognising the barbed comment as part of her defensive mechanisms. ‘Of course. I just... I’m worried about Alia.’

‘I know,’ she said softly, before they lapsed into an uncertain silence.

Claudine just hoped things would be OK. He had little doubt Alia would pull through this, but there was no ignoring the sliver of helplessness that had wedged itself into his thoughts. The fear that she might not pull through it in the way they all expected; that she might not be the same person on the other side. 

[janeykath318]

Mission: Marriage Chapter 2

Natasha twirled the ring on her left hand, contemplating her new status. She still almost couldn’t believe she’d gone through with it, and there was a lot she and Steve would have to talk through, but her gut was telling her very strongly she’d made the right choice. A few years ago, she would have scoffed at the very idea of marriage, but after the brief relationship with Bruce, she’d started to think it might not be such an impossible idea after all. Bruce had been a very good listener and very sweet about the things she’d confided to him, but he turned out to not be ready for anything serious. She suspected that Betty Ross had something to do with that.

She wandered into the kitchen where Steve was happily making breakfast, flipping pancakes with ease and frying bacon to the perfect crispness.

She snatched a piece and took a seat on the stool across the counter from him.

“Morning,” he greeted her. “Sleep okay?”

“Unusually well, thank you. And I see I got myself my own personal cook now.”

She popped the bacon in her mouth and gave him a thumbs up.

“Perfect. You have the makings of the ideal house husband. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Steve grinned one of his bashful smiles.

“Plenty. Hopefully, nothing deal-breaking though. I can’t sew or change your oil, and my laundry folding skills are somewhat lacking.”

Natasha chuckled. “I think I can manage to put up with that,” she teased. “My clothes organization skills are nothing to write home about and the only time I cook is when I’m actually trying to poison someone.”

Steve straight up laughed at that and she couldn’t help but smile. He was too cute when he laughed, head thrown back, eyes crinkling and hand clutching his chest. If she was around that a lot, she just might be very smitten.

“Good to know. If you cook for me, you’re trying to rid of me.”

His expression turned more serious and he leaned over the counter toward her.

“Nat, I want you to know if you ever change your mind about this, well, us……..I would face anything rather than having you be miserable. And if the accords get repealed or I get pardoned, well, you wouldn’t have to stay in the marriage if you didn’t want to.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, Steve,” Natasha answered gently. “I think at this point the chances of one of us dying are greater than us being miserable together. We may fight sometimes, but I could never be mad at you for very long, even when you’re at your most stubborn mule.”

“Same,” Steve admitted with a fond smile.

They contentedly enjoyed the pancakes for the next few minutes and Natasha allowed herself to revel in the domesticity of it all. It didn’t hurt that Steve’s fabulous arms and chest were shown off gloriously by the tank top he wore.

Afterward they shared dish duty and chatted about the monumental events of the previous day.

“You think word’s gotten out yet?” he asked.

“It’ll probably get out this morning,” she sighed. “I’ll have to brace myself to deal with Tony. He’s gonna be so annoying.”

“Definitely,” Steve sighed, with a shudder and a haunted look that said a lot. “Since he won’t speak to me I’m guessing that’ll fall on you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she told him reassuringly. She knew how hard the friendship break up had been on both of them, even if they wouldn’t admit it. “I’m used to handling him and if he still misbehaves, I’ll get Pepper involved.”

“If that doesn’t work, nothing will,” Steve agreed. He had a lot of respect for Pepper Potts. Lord knows the stuff she’d dealt with.

“Any plans for the day?” she asked him casually.

“Other than spending time with my wife, no,” Steve said, giving her another one of those slightly uncertain smiles. “Might do some sketching.”

“Sounds like a nice day,” she agreed. “Holing up here is going to be our safest bet once the headlines start rolling in.”

She grimaced as she heard her phone ringing relentlessly.

“Ugh. I’d better check that. Wanna bet on how many calls I take before I shut the phone off?”

“Knowing how little you suffer fools, I’ll say five or under,” Steve replied. “Let me know if I need to use the Captain voice on anyone. I may not have the shield anymore, but I can still talk the talk.”

Natasha shot him a grin as she headed for her room.

She could handle the nosy callers easily, but even the Black Widow appreciated back up.