#but i think soul should get to use he/she/they pronouns. as a treat.

[loafofryebread]

Consider; Genderfluid Soul

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; 9

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

chapter 9

Chapter 10

When you woke in the morning, the feeling of crushing weight had been released from your chest. The cold mountain air was easy to breathe, and you were now at ease with your loved ones so close. 

It had been three weeks since you had escaped. Not a soul had bothered you here. The mountain was too steep and difficult to search. 

You felt safe with Edmund here. Like the nightmare was finally over. 

Each morning when you woke, Edmund was the first you would look for. You often found him just outside your cabin door by the campfire.

This morning was no exception. 

“Good morning,” he greeted. He was chopping large blocks of wood into smaller pieces for the fire.

“Hey. Did you need a hand?” You walk down the steps of the cabin to where he worked. 

“Sure. Can you make a pile from the wood?”

You trip over the sole of your broken boot. They were too old to survive the mountains. Edmund stops his work to watch you trot over, trying to kick your shoe back in place.

“I was going to go down later this morning to pick up some more flour, and fruit. I’ll see if Vincent’s daughters have any spare shoes.”

You hated when he went down the mountain to get more supplies. Always sure that he wouldn’t return.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” you comment.

“Even if they’re not your size, it’d be better than what you got.”

“I meant to go down. It’s dangerous. Peacekeepers are still looking for us.”

“Ah, I’ll be right.” Edmund takes up his work again, swinging the ax down, “They’re looking in the wrong spots anyway. I had Frances tell a guard you were hiding in the canal beneath the wash house. They’ll be searching for weeks.”

You imagine Coriolanus wading through dirty water and laugh at the thought.

“In any case. My shoes will be fine. I don’t want you wasting your money on me.”

“My money? It’s you who got Snow to send the money to your mother. Boy, was I glad to get that letter!”

He stands tall and pulls an imaginary letter out of his pocket, pretending to read it.

“Dear Edmund, I think of you every day. Wishing, wanting, waiting for you to come to me. I dream about how handsome you are. Strong and smart too.”

You laugh at him. 

“I think Snow wrote that one.”

He laughs with you but all too soon the mood turns back somber.

“I was really worried about you, you know? We all were."

He reaches out to take your hand into his. 

“I was so worried about you!” You twist his hand so you can place a kiss on the back of it. 

“I kept thinking about you trapped with him. I had no idea what he was doing to you.”

You knew what he was insinuating and the thought of it made you shudder. You were his. Would he want you less if he believed that Coriolanus had already touched you? Was that why he had reverted to treating you like a kid? He hadn’t touched you like lovers do since you have been here. Was it because Coriolanus had already marked his territory?

You push his hand away, irritated at the thought. 

“He didn’t do anything to me.”

He reaches back and brushes over the almost healed bruised spots on your neck. You recoil in embarrassment. The night in the kitchen fills your mind. You felt a pool of embarrassment form in your stomach. You should have hated it all but as you remember it, your legs squeeze tighter. It felt good, and you didn't feel like  a victim because of it. 

“You know it doesn’t matter. What he did or didn’t do. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Shut up,” you beg. “Let's just agree to never talk about him again. He’s gone, or will be. Dead to the district and to us.”

“Okay,” Edmund agrees. “I am sorry.”

 You felt bad for lashing out at him when he was only trying to help. You had promised yourself just days ago to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

“I’ll go cook breakfast, alright? ‘’

Edmund had caught some fish just yesterday. Even scaled and prepared them for you. And this is how you repaid him?

You go back into the cabin and start to warm up the hot plate in the corner. Coriolanus was far away, yet he still seemed to haunt you. Sometimes you felt his fingertips graze your skin. 

He came to you at night mostly, when Edmund wasn’t around to distract you.

You would wake up swearing that you could feel his weight on top of you. You would wake up checking for bruises from where he held you down but your skin was clear. 

You thought the clear air would push him out but he was stuck and you couldn’t shake him out. 

Would it always be like this? Would your life with Edmund be plagued by thoughts of Coriolanus?

 No. You just need to focus more on Edmund. Time would take care of the rest.  

You push any other thought apart from cooking the fish out of your head. Preparing the food to perfection would exonerate you from your earlier thoughts. 

—- 

Nights were colder up in the mountains then at the compound. Edmund lent you a jacket but it did little to keep out the cold. It added to your sleep troubles. Some nights you would only get an hour or two. Some nights you wouldn’t sleep at all. 

You toss and turn next to your mother, trying not to wake her. You felt unsettled. Too unsettled to sleep. 

Edmund slept on the floor beside you thinking that it might help you sleep. 

You found yourself wanting to be held. After nights with Coriolanus you had gotten used to being coddled. 

You move off the bed and onto the floor next to Edmund. 

“Hey, stranger,” he whispers. 

A lazy arm is thrown over you but it isn’t enough. 

You push closer. “Tighter,” you demand. 

He obliged but it still wasn't enough. Coriolanus would hold you so tight, you felt like it was hard to breathe. You used to hate it but as it turns out you can’t sleep without it. 

Edmund smelt nicer. A soft woody smell. 

He treated you nicer too. Let you choose what you did. You could be angry with him if you chose to. He wouldn’t seek to punish you for it. 

Coriolanus tried to buy your love. Edmund tried to earn it. 

You would learn to sleep without needing to be held in time. 

In the meantime Edmund would be there to support you.

—-----

You sit with Edmund by the campfire while the others sleep. Edmund had paid a informant handsomely to relay District information. He came once a week, late at night to avoid being caught. 

You throw a stick into the fire, your boredom and irritation building the longer it takes. 

“Do we have enough money for him to keep coming up here to tell us the same thing? Peacekeepers are still searching, Snow’s angry. I could tell you that.”

“Roger has his use.  He only needs to give us one piece of crucial information to make the money worth it.” 

“And if we run out before he gives it to us?”

Edmund throws his own stick in the fire, watching it burn. 

“We’ll be right. We still have the three panams from Snow. I have a little left in savings, by the time all that runs dry, it’ll be mining season again.

“Mining season? Surely this will be over by then. We can’t hide here amongst everyone.”

“What choice do we have, Y/N? The Peacekeepers haven’t let up. We can’t go back to the District. When you mine together, you become family. They wouldn’t betray me.” 

Betray him, sure. But you were no one to them. You open your mouth to argue this point but the sound of kicked rocks draws your attention. 

A little man in gray, worn clothing and a cap covering his bald head is lightened by the fire. 

“You’re late.” Edmund comments. 

“Yeah well, Peacekeepers have doubled patrolling the area at night. I come late or I don’t come at all.” 

“Well?” Edmund pushes. He stands up with the coins in his hands. 

“Ravenstill’s dead. Snow’s gone back to the Capitol,” the man spits out on the grass before continuing talking, “Saw him get on the train this mornin’ myself.” 

You sigh in victory. He was gone. Now all that was left was to wait out the attention span of the Peacekeepers. 

“Hold on now. I didn’t say he was staying away. Peacekeeper tells me he’ll be back by the time the week is out with the new Commander.”

“But then he’s gone, right? District 12 can’t have two Commanders?” You rise next to Edmund. 

The older man shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe. He’s offering a large reward for your capture.” 

“Yeah, well I’m offering your life.” Edmund’s voice is hard and threatening. He throws the coin pouch at the man who catches it. 

“Settle, boy. I ain't no traitor. I am just saying it seems unlikely that he would offer up such a price only to walk away.” 

“Keep us updated on the movements of Snow and the areas the Peacekeepers are targeting.”

The man opens the coin pouch to look inside before nodding his head and turning back the way he came.

You take hold of Edmund’s arm. You worried for his fate if you were found. You worried for your own fate. He was unbearable when you failed to escape. Now you have succeeded, what laid ahead if you were to return?

—------

You began to have nightmares of Coriolanus finding you. You would wake with your mother's arms wrapped around you, and Edmund calling your name. 

The dreams always ended the same, no matter how they started; with everyone dead at your feet. 

You would run and hide from him in the forest like the night at the cabin. He would find his way into the cabin late at night and crawl on top of you while your protectors slept. One time he dropped from the sky. 

But you woke to find he hadn’t found you yet.

You avoided going to sleep. Your mother joined in solidarity, despite your protests. She would stay up with you to chase the bad thoughts away. 

Edmund's mother stayed up too. She didn’t want to be the only adult asleep. 

You all wait for the update Roger will bring. 

You sit next to Edmund watching the flames. You don’t hear the man approaching until Edmund's mother greets him. The man offers a head nod back but his attention is for Edmund. 

“Peacekeepers are still searching. Mainly in the city blocks. Rumor that she was seen selling cupcakes in town.” 

You scoff at the thought. At least it kept the Peacekeepers preoccupied. 

“Alright,” Edmund throws the money to Roger but the man doesn’t disappear, “Was there something else?” 

“Her brother,” your heart stops beating. “They got him locked up in the Capitol jail.” 

You shoot up from the log in a panic. 

You feel Edmund grab your hand but can’t hear the words that he is telling you. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright,” he finally breaks through, “They won’t hurt him. He’s all the leverage they’ve got.” 

“God. Edmund, what if they do? It’ll be my fault.” Your tears choke you as you speak.

“They won’t. He’ll be safe, okay. He wouldn’t kill him unless he knew you knew.” 

“What are we going to do? I have to go back. He’ll let him go if I-”

“Don’t be stupid. If you go back now, he’ll use Archie to keep you in line forever.” 

“We can’t leave him there.”

“We won’t. If he wants the presidency he’ll have to go back to the Capitol. We wait him out, and when the new Commander comes, he’ll see Archie was kept for no reason and we will buy him back.” 

Your mother sat sobbing and you joined her. 

Dear God, what have you done?

“From what I was told, they ain't hurt him.”

“See?” Edmund says, “So long as you stay hidden, there would be no point in hurting him.” 

Edmund’s mother comes over and wraps her arms around her elder son. Archie was special to her too. 

You had put all her sons in danger. In her heart, there was no more room for you.

—------------

The news of Archie’s arrest had dampened spirits. The days were long and everyone was irritable.

Edmund feared for his friend. You feared for your brother.

He had spent all his life protecting you, now only for you to get him killed. You wished you were still a little girl waiting by the door for your older brother to come home from work. It was a similar feeling to now. The dread of him not coming home filled you.

You wondered how Coriolanus got him on the train. Was it under threat? Did he beat Archie into submission? Or did he lie and deceive Archie?

Your mother was adamant that his capture was not your fault. Even if that was true, Archie’s detention was. You knew Coriolanus would let you trade yourself for your brother. But Edmund was right, if you folded now your family would always be ready for capture to be used against you.

Edmund’s mother was less sympathetic to it all. You had dragged her family into this and now the boy she considered a third son was rotting in jail because you were too precious to submit to the Commander like the rest of District 12.

She was cold to you, never speaking directly to you and only offering glaring stares. Being treated so terribly oddly felt validating. People should be angry with you. You had put them in danger.

You look at Edmund's little brother across the other side of the campfire. He clung to his mother's skirt, resting his head on her lap. He was just a boy, you couldn’t bear it if a hair on his head was harmed. And yet you have asked him to hide in a mountain with you. Leave his school and his friends behind.

No one had spoken for hours as you sat together around the camp, so when Edmund moved suddenly it caught everyone's attention. 

He shoots up from where you rested upon him on the log to gaze out as smoke ringlets circle the sky. 

“Get your things. Make sure to leave nothing behind.”

None of you move, perplexed at his outburst. 

“Now!” he shouts, “Move!” 

His anxiety caused you all to jump up and follow his command. He kicks dirt over the campfire to make it look unused while the rest of you pack what little you have. 

 You came with nothing so you focused on the pots and pans, and stripping the beds. 

He joins you as you work with his mother and brother to clean their room. 

“What’s going on?” His mother demands but doesn’t stop her work of shoving clothes into a sack held by her youngest son. 

“Peacekeepers are searching the mountains.” 

“Where are we going to go?” you panic. They would search all of the mountains. 

“The mines. They won’t search there. Too unstable for people who don’t know what they are doing.” 

He takes the bag of pans off you and throws it over his shoulder. 

The mines were a dangerous place to hide, and there was no certainty that the Peacekeepers wouldn’t search them. If they did you would be trapped. They would just keep pushing forward until your group reached a dead end.

Nevertheless, Edmunds leads the group to the trail that leads into the mines. 

You couldn’t decide what would be worse, dying by a Peacekeeper or in a mine like your father. 

But with Edmund’s hand in yours, at least the rocks of the mountain would let you keep him. The Peacekeepers would tear you from him only in death. 

Even with the bags of stuff, the trail is tread quickly.

The cave is dark and so, so cold. You hide in the shadows with your group. Edmund stands to the front once he has herded the group into safe standing. 

It is completely silent for what feels like a lifetime. Nothing but the birds in the trees and the wind. It lulls you into a false sense of security. Maybe Edmund was wrong. Maybe his source on the other side was mistaken and blew the smoke prematurely. But soon a distant sound of heavy tire treads could be heard rolling up the hill.

You ignored the first sign of people approaching. But as they got heavier and the talking got louder, it got harder to assure yourself that you wouldn’t be found.

You clutch Edmund's arms. You feel it move to reach for the pocketknife in his pocket. 

Peacekeepers call to each other. They were close, you could hear clearly as they spoke. 

“Hey, let's go.”

“Commander Snow said every inch”.

“You lookin’ to get killed? Those mines collapse all the time.” 

You hold your breath waiting. Should you walk out now to save everybody else?

“Come on, man. No one’s here. We’ve still got half the forest to get to. Come on.”

You feel Edmund relax under you as the Peacekeepers walk away. 

None of you move. The threat remains in the woods. None of you were safe until the Peacekeepers were out of the woods and had reported to Coriolanus that nothing was there. 

The mountains were large, you wondered how many Peacekeepers had been spared to search it. Even if thirty men, it would take a whole day at least.

It was a whole day spent in the cave, waiting for the Peacekeepers to come back. But no sound was ever heard.

Night falls before Edmund makes the call to investigate. 

His mother kisses him before he leaves. 

You cringe under her stare. You had put her baby boy in danger. It was your fault that she now had to hide in the mountains away from her home. 

It will be a rocky start once all of this is over. How could you work to earn back her affection after all the pain you have caused her? 

Edmund's little brother had taken over the role of protector. He stood at the front of the cave, tall and fierce like his brother had. He clutched his knife and looked out into the night with a hunter's eyes.

Edmund was gone for hours but his little brother never tired of his role. If Peacekeepers turned up, the little boy was ready.

You watch over him as his mother makes what little she can from the food.

A dark figure cast into the cave, and you grab the little boy, pulling him back against you to protect him. It was too tall, too broad for Edmund. You shrink back into the shadows as it approaches, reaching down to pull the knife from the boy. On instinct, you open your mouth to scream but it is Edmund's voice that calls you. 

“They are gone. Cars are gone, and there are no markings to pick up the search. They won’t return.”

You shake the fear out of you and release Edmund's brother from your protective hold. 

Coriolanus had weaved himself into your mind. Every shadow; every sound was him. 

You needed Edmund to take his place, but he often acted like a ghost to you, touching you only in reproach. 

You wanted to keep something from Coriolanus' reach. To give some shred of you to Edmund that could never be given back. 

You started by hugging him tight. 

—---

You had decided to sleep with Edmund at the first opportunity after the scare yesterday.

It was hard to pin him down between his hunting, working around the camp, and his family. 

You felt like his shadow as you lingered, trying to single out his attention. 

He would offer you a smile every time you saw him but wouldn’t stop his work. 

You followed him into the woods but his brother would insist on coming to learn how to shoot. 

Back at camp, his mother blocked you from his attention. It seemed impossible to gain an audience with him. 

You tried to tell him what you wanted but the words would never form in your mouth. He was always too busy to hear them anyway. Telling you to wait until back at camp to tell him what you were trying to say. But camp was too crowded so you always pretended to forget what you wanted to say. 

It took three days of pining before the mothers took the washing to the lake. It would take them all day to rinse and dry the clothes and sheets. Normally you would go and help but today you had a goal in mind. 

You hide Edmund’s catch from this morning and tell Edmund’s brother that another animal had run off with dinner tonight. You had asked him to go catch fish but he was determined that he could catch actual prey. He was a hunter like his brother, he insisted. 

Whatever got him lost for a couple of hours. He didn’t actually have to catch anything but you hoped he did. You would boast about him at dinner. He was a good kid and deserved more attention. 

“Hey,” Edmund greeted you. He had gone to collect more firewood and you had grown impatient waiting for him to get back. 

“Where is everyone?” 

You don’t answer him. He looked so handsome, slightly covered in dirt from his work. 

You wanted this to be the moment you remember forever. If Coriolanus did find you, you wanted to at least have this memory of Edmund. 

He looks confused as you grab his arm and pull him into the cabin but follows your direction. 

You slam the door shut and push Edmund up against the wall, cementing your body like what had been done to you on so many occasions. 

You kiss him hard, letting him know how badly you need him. 

He stills you with a firm grip on your shoulders, tilting his head higher out of your reach. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I want it to be you. Not him.” Even on your tippy toes, you could not reach him. 

“Not now,” he scolds. 

“Yes now,” you refute, “I can feel him getting closer every day.” 

Edmund looks down upon you, taking your face gently in your hands. 

“You’re safe. He’s not going to get you. I’ll keep you safe.” 

You knew he would try but you felt Coriolanus in your bones. You knew he would catch you. 

“Please,” you whine. Your hands reach for his belt but he traps your hands. 

“You are not going to give me this under threat. He’s not going to persuade you to do something you’ve had the past few years to do yourself.” 

“I want to,” you protest. You manage to capture his lips again and he mercifully kisses back. 

His barrier was weak. You were sure you could break it down. His hands held your hips and not your wrists, almost giving you permission. 

“Edmund! Edmund!” The sound of his little brother's voice was heard only seconds before the door opened. 

You separate. Edmund looked almost relieved. He eyes you by his side but gives his attention to his brother. You had broken down his wall but he was saved by the bell. 

“Look!” the little boy proudly held up a small dead rabbit. You wished you insisted on the fish. 

“Good job, buddy.” Edmund moves from you to his brother, straightening his jacket as he walks. 

“I’ll help you dress it.”  Edmund doesn’t look at you as he leads his brother back out to the open. 

“I can do it!” The little voice demanded. 

“I know, buddy. But we can’t afford to lose any meat.”

You could cry at the sense of rejection. Edmund wouldn’t give you another opportunity. You had just wanted to show that you loved him but he would have to settle for words. 

—----

You were cold to Edmund the following days, even as you tried to let it go. You wouldn’t look at him as you passed him his meals. Would only speak to him to answer a question. You wouldn’t say more than what was needed. 

He still slept on the floor next to you despite your behavior.

You knew he was trying to protect you by his rejection but it stung. 

Coriolanus had made you feel desirable.  He performed extraordinary measures just for a kiss. And here you were throwing yourself at Edmund, begging him for just that, only to be tossed aside. 

Was Edmund's affections real or just a product of Coriolanus interference? 

You felt stupid for making the first move. You should have just forgotten the whole thing. Edmund was loyal. He just got confused, and you played the fool. Now you had put him in an uncomfortable situation that could risk any relationship with him after this ordeal. 

 You loved him but you should have stayed silent about it. 

Half of you hoped that Coriolanus would find you and take you away. Maybe Edmund would feel guilty about his rejection, and regret it. 

You roll over in bed towards where Edmund is lying on the floor. 

No, that’s not true. 

You’d rather be Edmund’s doormat than Coriolanus' bride.  

—---------

Coriolanus stood backstage at the presidential show. They would perform now for the audience. Answering questions, and charming the crowd. Coriolanus should feel on top of his game. He was known for being charming. It was all he had for the longest time. 

Augustus stood at the other side of the stage, Coriolanus could see him through gaps in the curtains talking to his campaign manager.

Coriolanus couldn’t bear to talk to anyone until he was forced to. 

His thoughts were occupied with you. All of the District was searched, and all he received from it was rumors. A few whispered leads but nothing to truly go on. 

He needed to shake you out so he could focus on his night. 

He hated you now more than ever. It was one thing to betray him, it was another to interfere with his presidential campaign. You should have been here now to support him. 

But instead, you had run off with another man. He should have killed Edmund when he had the chance. Coriolanus had kept him as a pawn but Edmund had turned himself into a knight. 

Lucky was warming up the crowd to introduce the candidates. Coriolanus couldn’t be thinking of this now. You were here. You had gone back to the apartment and he found you there. There was no hole in the fence Peacekeepers failed to find, and Edmund was dead. 

When he went back to the Snow penthouse tonight, he would find you there. Drinking tea with Grandma’am and Tigris. 

Coriolanus hears his name being called and he enters the stage with a smile.

District 12 was a small place, you couldn’t hide forever. Coriolanus would take the first train back tonight and follow every lead himself. 

—----------

You were adding spices to the stew when wildflowers popped up under your face. 

Edmund stood behind you with a shy smile. 

“I am sorry. Please stop being angry with me,” he begs. 

You take the flowers from him to show you are not hostile. 

“I am not angry. I just-” you pause your words unsure on what to say, “You haven’t kissed me or even really touched me since I’ve been here. If you don’t feel the same way that's fine, Just-”

“You’re really stupid. You know that?” he cuts you off. He takes a step towards you. You take it as an invitation to place your hands on his arms. 

“I’ve loved you since I can last remember. And you take me giving you a little space after you’ve just spent a ridiculous amount of time as a hostage to a man who thinks torturing is the same thing as courting, as a sign I ain't interested?”

You kiss him gently and he allows you to. Your heart swelled under his words. He loved you. 

“I meant what I said though. I ain't touching you under threat. When the time’s right, and it’s just the two of us, I’ll give you anything you want. But allow yourself to heal first. I don’t want you to regret anything.” 

You kiss him again to show your gratitude. 

“Thank you. I am sorry, Edmund. I love you.” 

“I love you too, stupid.” 

Coriolanus shakes Lucky Flickerman's hand as the crowd cheers for him. Presidency was close even if you were far.

—------

Despite not having a choice, camp life was agreeable. You worked closely with Edmund, helping him where you could and supporting him where you could not.

Your mother seemed happy too, despite her son being in the Capitol jail. But plans were already forming to get him out. And he was safe, or at least relatively safe. You had no idea what he faced but you knew it would not be death. Not yet. Not without Coriolanus knowing that you knew what had happened to him.

The new Commander of District 12 was sworn in yesterday. Coriolanus was there to hand over the title. Roger had said he seemed uptight and disinterested in the affair. You were sure Coriolanus would be gone soon.

Back to the Capital where he belonged. An air of victory floated around you. He would be president and you would return to District 12 where you belonged, but as Mrs. Flair.

You no longer had nightmares of Coriolanus. Soon this memory would fade into a distant dream.

But it all happened so fast; a loud banging noise woke you, and dozens of pairs of boots stomped across the floor. Edmund woke too, tried to fight them off but there were too many of them. All in protective gear and all with weapons. 

They drag him and your mother out. None of the Peacekeepers touch you even as you hit and yell. 

It was early morning, the sunlight had just been cast over the mountains but the ground was still frozen and wet with condensation. 

Edmund and your mother were thrown on the ground and held down while their hands were cuffed behind their backs. Edmund's mother and brother soon followed. 

You grapple with a Peacekeeper trying to cuff Edmund's hands. He does his best to avoid you but no one pulls you away. Your hands remain free and none of the Peacekeepers make a move to trap you. 

“Please,” you beg amongst the crying and Edmund’s yelling. 

You almost don't recognize him. His hair had grown out, and he wore an expensive red coat instead of his Commander uniform. 

But his eyes remained the same. Blue and fierce they gazed down at you. You had run straight past him without noticing.

You rush to him in panic, falling at his feet and grabbing his black pant leg in a tight hold. 

“Coriolanus, please,” you beg him, “Please I’ll go back. Just release them.”

He ignores you. Nodding to a Peacekeeper who takes a long length of rope from his belt and throws it over the branch of a tree. Another two bring Edmund to his feet, pushing him as he resists.

His mother wails, joining your begging. 

“No! No! Wait please!” They continue to set up the rope. 

“Coriolanus, please!” you had time to beg as the Peacekeeper does the knot. 

He continues to watch Edmund, listening to Edmund's insults rather than your cries. 

“Commander, please. I won’t ever do it again. I’ll be perfect.” 

He still ignores you. Not even glancing at you as you beg him from the dirt. 

“No, no.” The Peacekeeper finishes the knot and fastens it around Edmund's neck.

You go to reach him. You would hold him up if you had to, but Coriolanus caught you by your hair and held you in place. 

Edmund kicks like a fish out of water as the rope is pulled by two Peacekeepers on the other side. 

You pull against Coriolanus' hold, almost yanking your hair out trying to reach him.

Edmund looks at you as he struggles. His hold body shook, and he kicked at the air in hope. His lips half form your name but it never quite parts from his lips.

Coriolanus does let you go but it was too late. Edmund had stopped kicking. Stopped blinking. Stopped breathing. 

You run to him anyway, dropping where he hung. 

You reach out and touch his foot as it sways. 

“Kiss your mother goodbye, and let’s go.” His voice shoots ice down your spine. 

You wanted to scream and yell and cry, but you could do nothing but stare at the dirt in front of you. The sound of crying filled your ears. Dear god, this was all your fault. 

Coriolanus doesn’t ask you again, just grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you to movement. 

You felt too disorientated to fight back. 

He drags you past Edmund's crying mother and brother who couldn’t tear their eyes away from the tree. 

You wanted to reach out to say something, but Coriolanus was in a rush to get back to the Capitol. 

“Mum,” was all you could call out as you pass her.

He drags you along to a parked patrol car and throws you in the cage used for rebels. 

It felt as if the earth had swallowed you whole. There was no fight left in you. All you felt was despair.

Coriolanus had no pity for you. He barely glanced at you as he locked the cage and closed the door. 

You lay in the back in your borrowed nightdress and Edmund’s jacket. You bring it up to your face as you sob. He was dead. All hope of a happy future was gone with him. You would remain Coriolanus’ slave until the day you died.

The journey throws you around as they speed down the hill and back to the city section of the District. 

You sob the entire way. Edmund was dead because of you. Your brother was in jail. Your mother is now all alone in this world. You wanted to die too. It would be kinder than this existence. 

Edmund was dead because of you. His family left without their provider because of you. Your heart ached. Your grief suffocated you. You gasp for air but your sobs block any from reaching your lungs.

What have you done? Why did you think you stood a chance of escape?

You begged the universe to turn back time. You wouldn’t go to the jail. You were trying to do the right thing but your kindness had led to your world being ripped apart.

Why did you have to do it, you thought to yourself. Life could have been so sweet if you weren’t so foolish.

What would your life be like now? Coriolanus wouldn’t be taking you back to the Compound now there was a new Commander. Were you going to the Capitol so soon?

You had a hard time adjusting to life at the Compound. How would you ever survive the capital?

Would you survive the Capital? After Coriolanus had finished with you, would he keep you around after you had betrayed him?

He seemed a different man. Could he still say he was in love with you? Or has that game now ended?

The car stops at the train station. Talking and car doors slamming cut through the business of the station.

The harsh light enters when the door is yanked open by Coriolanus.

You don’t want to get out, hoping to get shot for your resistance. 

Coriolanus drags you out by your ankle, taking a tight hold of your arm as he gets you upright and pushes through onto the train. 

You don’t struggle against him as he leads you through the busy station. What would be the point?

You enter first class, and the doors get locked by maids behind you. 

The only word you can say is “no”, over and over again. 

This couldn’t be happening. Was this just another bad dream? Please, just let this be a bad dream. 

Coriolanus shoves you into a booth, and you slump against the window. He sits next to you trapping you in. You had no energy to move. Only sob against the cold glass. 

You should have just saved yourself the trouble and stayed. Why did you have to anger him?

With the most important passenger on board, the train moves out of the station. 

“Enough,” he tells you. But you couldn’t follow his command even if you tried. 

You watch the District shoot past you. How you wished you could open the window and throw yourself out. 

The rocks pass, and the trees begin to blur into one another. Coriolanus is silent for hours as you cry against the window still. 

You could feel him sometimes looking at you but otherwise, he just sat there. Fixing the jewelry he wore. A gold pinky ring with your ring stacked on top of it. His coat buttons were dipped in gold. He had a new watch, a present from Tigris for returning home. 

It was only when you shifted from the window and slumped over the table did he speak. 

“We were supposed to be in the Capitol weeks ago.” 

The Capitol. His presidential run. You had just lost everything you had ever known and he talks about being behind schedule.

You sit up to face him. He was no longer the Commander you knew but something far more fearsome.

“You think I care about the Capitol?!” You cry, “You took everything from me! You ruined my life,” you scream at him.

He grabs your jaw in his hand and pushes your head back against the glass. The glass is solid and cold as you are pressed against it.

“Your mother has joined your brother in the District 12 jail. I would be very careful what you say to me. Did you think this was a game? Did you think I wouldn’t search for you? Wouldn’t find you?” 

The door slides open and Coriolanus releases you. A servant walks in with breakfast, and another behind her with juice and pastries. 

They set the food and cutlery down in silence. You notice they don’t look up or around, only at what they are doing. 

Coriolanus doesn’t thank them as they leave. He doesn’t eat either. 

“Coriolanus, are they going to be okay?”

“We could have just left, Y/N. No one had to get hurt.”

You turn back to the window as you speak, “I know.”

The food sat at the table for five minutes untouched before Coriolanus called for it to be taken away again. The servants come quickly and the food is taken away in the same manner it was delivered; quickly and silently. 

“It’s three days to the Capitol.” he stands up as he spoke to you, “Two days after that they will announce the new president of Panem. Whatever this is, it’s finished. You do the slightest thing to displease me and your family will follow Edmund.” 

You flinch at his name. Edmund would haunt you for the rest of your days. You hoped he would. 

“Do you understand me?” he asks.

“Yes, Commander.” 

He flinches at the name but doesn’t comment. He clears his throat and walks away into the other carriage. 

You pick up on your crying again. You should have known that your rage only ever backfired on your loved ones. 

Your throat ached and your eyes were puffy, soon you had no more tears left to cry. 

You try a door to see where it leads but it must have a sensor on it because it didn’t open as easily as it did for Coriolanus. He had trapped you in the room. This was your life now. Waiting for Coriolanus to decide what to do with you.

You curl up on the seat and let the train lull you to sleep.

The servants must have come back in during your nap for when you woke the table was filled with food again. A large jug of water sat on the table. You finish all of it and lay back down again.

Coriolanus returns much later, around dinner time. 

“You’re still there,” he observes as the door lets him through. 

“Where else could I go?” 

His hand presses a large button and what you thought was a wall slides to reveal a bedroom. 

“You should wash up for dinner. You have dirt all over you.” 

You did want to take a shower, but you didn’t want to lose Edmund’s jacket. 

Coriolanus steps forward to grab you, but you rise upon seeing him move. Nothing he said was ever a suggestion.

The room was large, with a queen-sized bed decorated in a rich, heavy fabric of deep blue. There were four large pillows and a set of smaller ones with the Panem emblem on them.

A wall was built to hang clothes. You could only see three sets of Coriolanus’ clothing and a dress and a nightgown for you.

On the other side, there was door to a spacious bathroom. You had thought the commanders apartment bathroom was impressive but now you could see why the Capital looked down at the districts.

This bathroom alone was almost as big as the bedroom in the Commander's quarters. Beautiful gold and white titles lay across the floor. A white marble sink with a gold tap. You reach out to touch it.

‘‘Take your clothes off.” Coriolanus demanded. He reaches for the buttons on his own shirt causing the panic to rise in you again.

What would it matter what he did to you? But still, you felt too frozen to move.

He gets halfway through the buttons on his shirt to see you still dressed. His eyes darken as he reaches out to you.

You shrink back against the marble countertop as he yanks Edmund's jacket from your shoulders and throws it to the ground. Your eyes follow it there, as Coriolanus slips your borrowed nightdress off.

You expected more of a reaction from him after all this time. But he seems uninterested in your naked body. He takes your arm and pulls you to the shower head where he fiddles with the tap until the water is to his liking.

He throws you under the hot water while he finishes undressing. The clothes are left on the floor as he joins you in the shower.

You move out of his way to let him have the water but he pulls you back under and reaches for a soft sponge hanging against the wall.

“Look at you,” he mutters. He scrubs the sponge under your nails to get rid of the dirt that had caked under them.

Satisfied he scrubs the sponge up your arms to your neck and down your back. He scrubs too hard. It feels as if he is peeling off your skin.

He is quick along your stomach. Not spending too much time before moving on.

You flinch when he crouches down to scrub at your legs but he stops mid-thigh and returns to full height, dragging the sponge up your leg and resting on your left hip.

“Are you going to do it now?”  It was important that you were clean for him, you supposed.

He drops the sponge, using his hand to wrap around your throat and force you back into the glass.

You don’t look at him as he stares at you. He steps closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and bring you against him.

He rests his forehead against your collar bone, the steam filled the air and fogged your view. He is so still and silent. He had made no move to grope you. You couldn’t tell if he even looked at you. He just held you close and breathed deeply. 

The room became hard to breathe in as the water turned into steam. But you were too scared to voice even that complaint. He moved from your collar bone to rest his chin on your shoulder but then went still again. 

“Coriolanus?” His name was barely a breath on your lips. 

“I am so angry at you,” he said softly. You feel the hand on your throat tighten.

“How could you do that to me?’’ He lifts his head off of you to look you in the eye.

“Augustus has been opening hospitals and amongst the Capitol people, while I have been chasing you around District 12. Do you have any idea how that made me look?’’

You think of your family in jail as you speak. “I am sorry.”  

“You’re sorry? Not good enough.”

He looked so different with his blonde wet hair pressed down on his forehead. The ends curled slightly towards his face.

“You won, Coriolanus. What more do you want from me?”

“I don’t feel as if I have won. I feel as if I have been betrayed.”

Your eyes twitched with irritation. He felt betrayed? You were astonished you that he felt like the victim after causing you so much pain. He was the only bad thing to have happened. The cause of his own misery.

“You killed Edmund,” you sobbed, “You killed him.”

You bring a fist against his shoulder, but it landed without true force.

“I let him live once. Remember?”

The memory of target training at the train station flashes through your mind before you could block it.

“What made you think I would make the same mistake twice?”

He releases you to turn off the tap. You stood frozen as he dries himself.

His anger had lit yours so when he exited the bathroom, you followed, wet and dressed only in a towel.

“Edmund was a good man.”

Coriolanus was readying himself for bed. He spared you a irritated look.

“And now he’s a dead man.”

His sentence stung you.

You wiped the running tears off your eyes. “He was a good man,” you repeat.

He was the only man for you. The love of your life, now dead and gone.

“How did you know? Did Roger rat us out?” you ask.

“You did,” you wait for him to elaborate as he dresses in his pajamas, “Your letter to your brother. People disappear all the time up there.”

You feel your heart drop at his words. A new wave of guilt comes crashing over you.

“He was smart hiding there. He knew the area well. And the smoke signals? Very good. I never did find out who was sending them, but what use are they if you don’t see them.”

Was. Knew. No more.

 “Well enough to fool my Peacekeepers, but I thought, why would she put that in a letter to her brother? Unless it was to warn him. Why else tell him not to come back? You love your brother, of course you would want him back.”

Tears well in your eyes again.

“Is he okay? Have you hurt him?” you accuse.

“It would serve me no purpose to hurt him.”

His movements are hard and sharp as he puts on his satin button-up shirt.

“So you’ll release him? Both of them?” They served no purpose to him in the Capitol.

“When I can trust you again.” He spat.

It could be years before a paranoid Coriolanus decided he trusted you.

“You can trust me. I promise. I’ll make it up to you, just please let them go.”

You walk over to him, reaching out to touch him. It normally worked to disarm him. He is receptive to you, taking a hand and placing it against your face.

“You know why I can trust you? Because I have your family locked in a cage.”

He disappears along with his touch, going over to the cupboard and throwing a deep blue matching nightgown on the bed.

He says nothing else before returning to the dining room and leaving you in the bedroom alone.

You cry as you dress, and don’t stop as you throw the small pillows across the room and sink into the mattress.

Everything you did was wrong. People were hurt because you weren’t smart enough to protect them. Your mother and brother sat in a dirty jail cell, and you had put them there.

They bore the consequences of your stupidity.

Your mind ran and ran with your anxiety. Images of your mother and brother being beaten in a small cell. Edmund’s family slowly starving to death without him. The memory of Edmund as he swayed from the rope.  

You wallow in bed for an hour before Coriolanus rejoins.

You feel him slip into bed beside you. He wraps his arms tightly around you and for the first time in months you fall asleep easily.

You woke the next morning with the feeling of crushing sadness.

Coriolanus was awake next to you. You could hear him practicing a speech as he laid beside you. You don’t move. You weren’t even sure if you could.

A knock on the door stops him, and he bids the person to come in.

You don’t have to look to know it was a servant with a breakfast tray.

Coriolanus reaches for your shoulder to turn you over. You follow his direction and he props a pillow up behind you so you could sit up.

You thank the person as they put a small table over your lap.

You felt nauseous just looking at the food. But asking them to take it away may cause trouble for them so you wait until they leave to reject the food.

You place the table on the floor and roll back onto your side. Your bones felt like cement, and your eyes welled with tears but you didn’t have the energy to cry.

Coriolanus said nothing to you as he eats.

He mutters his speech between sips of coffee. Soon that was finished too, and he rose for the day.

He crosses your eyesight as he approached the wardrobe, and you watch him dress. It seemed odd to see him in anything other than his Commander uniform.

You had never seen Capitol fashion before. It was full of layers and tiny details. The buttons on his shirt had a silver swirl design that caught the light. His shirt was crisp and white with a design of two black flowers on either side, reaching from the end of the shirt to his shoulders.

“I have some work to do. Interviews and thank you letters. So, if you decide to come out be quiet.”

You had no plan to leave your spot, but you nod in understanding.

He doesn’t look or speak to you again as he leaves the room.

You felt as if you had died too. There was no life in you anymore.

You lay for hours in the same spot. Occasionally you could hear Coriolanus as he spoke.

The weight on your shoulder caused it to ache but you couldn’t make yourself move.

The only time you shifted during the hours was when the servants returned to serve you lunch. They took the dirty dishes but also the dirty laundry.

You lunch up to stop the women carrying out Edmund’s brown coat.

“Wait, please!” you grab the worn material off her, “Not this. Leave this.”

The two women look between each other, unsure.

“Mr. Snow said to take everything.”

You swing the jacket over you, positioning yourself in it.

“He didn’t mean this.” Edmund’s faint scent lingered on the fabric. He gave it to you to keep warm at night. You had come to associate it with the feeling of protection.

The young girl bows to you and the other follows suit. As they leave, you know it’s to tell Coriolanus.

You sit and wait for him on the bed.

Coriolanus storms in not moments later.

“The jacket,” he demanded.

“No, Coriolanus. Please let me keep it.”

He launches at you, tearing at the jacket trying to pull it off you. You fight against him, cementing your arms to yourself and trying to wriggle free.

He gets it half off your shoulders. But he grew too frustrated to finish the job. He pulls you up towards him by the collar of the jacket.

“Take the jacket off or I’ll tell them not to bother feeding your mother tonight.”

Edmund was right. Coriolanus was always going to use your family as a weapon.

But the needs of the living overtook those of the dead. You had to make sure they were as safe as you could make them.

He gets off you and you get up to give him the jacket.

As he takes the jacket with one hand, he smacks you with the other.

You make a startled sound but Coriolanus is gone before you finish it.

You return back to your spot and sob into your pillow.

With the jacket now gone, you had truly lost every piece of Edmund.

And with him, you have lost every piece of yourself. Only Coriolanus remained.

 ————

 Three hours after lunch, Coriolanus came to sit on your side of the bed next to you.

“I’ve brought you a cup of tea.”

“Thank you. I don’t want tea.”

Coriolanus’s face is tense as he places the cup on the table next to you.

“They tell me you didn’t have lunch either. Is that your plan? To starve yourself to death before we reach the Capitol?”

“I have no plan,” you admit.

 “Well I do. I have lots of plans, and you’re through with delaying them. So Sit up and drink your tea.” 

He reaches out to your neck to help you sit up. The tea is placed into your hands but it is him you stare at. 

“You look so different.” 

His hair was a soft white color as it grew out. His clothes were fashionable and colorful. Nothing of the District 12 Commander remained. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, combing it back. 

“I am still the same.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.”  You didn’t think it was possible but he was colder, held himself with somehow more confidence. This was the new leader of Panem. 

“What would you know? You never bothered to get to know me.” 

“I think I know you better than anyone else.” 

He showed you parts of himself you were sure he hid from others. The nightmares. The secret yearning to be taken care of. The heartbreak he carried from the loss of his mother. 

“Think, think, think. What have I told you about thinking? You’re no good at it. I’ll do it. Now drink your tea.” 

You take a sip of the scalding tea. It quenches some of your thirst. 

“Will I ever go back to District 12?” you ask. 

You weren’t really sure you would want to. 

“No.” 

“What’s going to happen to me once we reach the Capitol?”

He sighs, ‘‘That depends on you.” 

“Will it be like the compound?”

He laughs humorlessly, “Nothing is like the compound.” 

“I meant being locked indoors.”

“Will I let you roam free around the Capitol? No.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. His eyes move around the room, looking at the subtle details. 

“But if you are well-behaved, and do enough to earn it, I will show you all the Capitol has to offer.” 

His eyes move down, back to you. 

“You’ll grow to admire the Capitol. You won’t hate it forever.” 

You go to refute his statement. Nothing in the Capitol could fill the gaping hole left in you from being torn from your home and family. But a servant knocks on the door, taking Coriolanus’s attention. 

He commands them to come in but the small girl only steps upon the threshold and never through it. 

“Sir, you have a call.”

“I’ll be right there.” He answers back. 

She bows and doesn’t rise until the door is shut again.

“Duty calls,” you taunt. 

“Yes.” His eyes are back to being everywhere but on you, “I want that tea finished before I get back.”

As soon as he leaves, you get up and pour the tea down the bathroom sink. 

—----

The next morning was the same. You laid in bed for hours, unmoving. 

Only this morning they didn’t bother to bring you breakfast. You wondered if you would have eaten it, if it was offered, but your guilt still felt so heavy. 

Lunchtime came around and Coriolanus disrupted your wallowing. 

“Get up. We reach the Capitol soon.” He orders. 

He plucks a dress off the rack and lays it across the bed, just under your feet. 

It was a blush pink satin gown that tied in a low ribbon at the back. Matching heels that wrapped around your ankle were placed on the floor below. 

You sit up to touch the fabric of the dress, and Coriolanus sneaks behind you with a hair brush. 

He begins to untangle your hair but he pulls it too harshly. You could feel the tender spot on your head from where he had pulled it just two days before. 

“There will be cameras when we step off the train. Fashion is very important in the Capitol. You’ll have to get used to not wearing the same dress every day.” 

He pulls a knot too harshly and you let out a cry of pain. 

His hand moves yours from the spot and massages it gently. 

“That wouldn’t have happened if you had gotten up at some point.” 

He returns the brush to the carry bag and returns to you, holding out his hands. 

You take them and he pulls you up out of the bed.

His hands move to your nightdress and he pulls it off to place the pink satin gown over your head. He spins you around so he can tie it in the back. 

“Put on your shoes and meet me outside.” 

He places a kiss on the back of your shoulder before leaving you. 

The shoes are hard to walk in. While not overly tall, the heel itself was narrow. Trying to walk felt like a balancing act. You could only manage small steps. 

Coriolanus sat at the booth looking out of the window. 

The landscape had changed from long stretches of dry dirt to tall buildings. 

You sit down opposite him and gaze out the window at it all. 

It seemed unreal. 

Every building shined. The Panem flag was hung wherever possible. The sky seemed extra blue. 

You had never felt homesick but now you realize why Coriolanus was so eager to get back home. 

The scenery disappears as you enter a tunnel and stop at your destination. 

Your hand is tugged as Coriolanus heads to the exit with the servants and the bags just ahead of you.

You could hear a commotion as you got closer. Voices overlapped and snapping sounds of flashing cameras joined the noise. 

The lights were blinding as you exited the carriage. 

Coriolanus seemed in his element. He waved and smiled as he lead you through the sea of cameramen and reporters. 

They all shouted at him as they held microphones up to his face. But he didn’t stop to make a comment. 

More people surrounded the outside. Peacekeepers made a path to a sparkling black car with their bodies blocking the crowd. 

He was hailed a king here, and a tyrant back in District 12. All for the same thing. 

The scene was overwhelming. Not only were you in a foreign place without your family, but you felt yourself suffocating amongst the crowd. If one were to break through, the rest would follow ending in a catastrophe. 

You were a stranger, an enemy. You did not belong here. 

You wanted to turn back to the train but Coriolanus’s hold prohibited such action. 

Someone opens the car door for him and he lets you enter first. 

The silence that greets you helps to settle your nerves. With a final wave, Coriolanus joins you in the car, and it takes off from the crowd. 

He sighs and readjusts his jacket so it falls in front of him. 

Your hands shake so you keep them clamped together on your lap.

Coriolanus doesn’t speak to you as you peer out the window. 

You felt as if you had stepped onto another planet. 

The streets were colorful, both in design and people. Cars gilded next to you and in front of you. There were statues and water fountains on every corner. 

All gained from the hard labor of the Districts. 

Still, you couldn’t take your eyes off the passing scenery. You are hypnotized for the 20 minutes that the car drives. But it soon stops in front of a large brick building. 

“Do you live here?” Was this your new home? You wondered. 

“No one lives here,” he answers shortly. 

He exits the car, holding the door open for you. Following him out, you hear the voice of a man greet Coriolnaus. 

“Mr. Snow. Welcome.” 

The man was a little overweight in a suit that was finely tailored to him. He had bleached his eyebrows and mustache, and wore many pieces of jewelry.  

“Thank you for meeting with us.” Coriolanus shook the man’s hand but returns it to yours as soon as it ended. 

“Of course, Mr. Snow. We were happy to accommodate you. Please, follow me.” 

The man leads you both into the building and through the halls but only talks to Coriolanus about the history of the building. 

It was a beautiful building that housed artwork and portraits along the walls. 

You could tell Coriolanus didn’t care but remained civil. His fingers squeeze yours as he is ushered into a room. 

Like everything in the Capitol, it is unnecessarily large and grand. Gold candle holders, rows and rows of pews made of expensive wood, oil painted artwork of important men loomed down at you. 

“Just over this way, if you would please.” 

The man leads you to a table on a small front stage. There was only one chair in front of it which Coriolanus pulls out for you. 

The man passes Coriolanus a pen and tells him where to sign. 

He does so quickly and elegantly. 

“And now for you, Madam.” 

Coriolanus passes you the pen but only small writing covered the page and you were hesitant to sign it. 

“What is this?” You look up to the man, who rocked slightly side to side.

“It’s a marriage certificate.” Coriolanus answered for him.

“Marriage?”

Did marriage in the Capitol have the same meaning as marriage in the Districts? What did marriage in the Capitol truly entail and why was Coriolanus so eager to have you sign it?

“Yes. Marriage. Now sign the paper.” His hand curls around yours so you don’t drop the pen.

“Coriolanus-” Your words are cut short when his hand latches itself under your chin and yanks it up, keeping your hand directed at the paper. He forces your hand closer to the line.

“Sign the paper,” he commands. With his hand enclosed around yours, you sign your simple signature next to his cursive.

He releases you once you do.

“If you wanted a wedding then you shouldn’t have run off.” He spat at you. 

Your hands shake uncontrollably and your eyes water but no sympathy is given by either man. 

“You’ve robbed the Capitol of the wedding of the year, truly!” 

“I think the Capitol will survive.” You feel Coriolanus tug you up, and the man follows his lead out the door. 

“I am sure you are eager to get home and rest before election day.” the man spoke. His voice echoed through the large halls. 

“May I just say what an honor it was to marry you two today! You two kids will set a trend. I’ll have young lovers knocking my door down to elope.” 

You sob at his words. 

“Forgive her. The journey was long.” 

“Of course.” 

With only three more steps until the door, the conversation died. 

Coriolanus is quick in pace, and propelled you to move faster than you could in your heels. 

You could hardly see through the tears in your eyes, so you reach blindly until you feel the car underneath your fingers. 

“Thank you, sir.” He shakes hands with the man once again. 

“Anything for our future president.”

Coriolanus opens the door and guides you inside as he says goodbye to the man. 

He allows you to cry until the car pulls up outside of the apartment, at which he tells you to stop. 

He pulls a handkerchief out of breast pocket and wipes the tears from your face as they fall. 

From the outside you could hear the driver collecting the bags from the boot. 

“You need to stop crying. We are home now.” 

You take the handkerchief off him and dap your own tears. He longingly stares out the window. 

He almost bounces in his seat. Eager to get up the stairs and back home. 

Marriage is not the worst thing to have happened to you, nor the worst thing he could do.

It didn’t really mean anything, you told yourself. The Capitol probably wouldn’t even recognize a marriage between a Capitol citizen and District. 

You push his patience as far as it would go before you are able to collect yourself. 

“Ready?” he asks. 

You give a curt nod and he swings the door open. 

The driver passes the bags to a servant dressed in the same white dress as the ones on the train. They take them back into tall metal building. 

It reached the sky in height, and a whole community of District 12 in width. 

Coriolanus knew his way well. With all the wall ways, and feature spaces of the hotel, you were sure you would get lost escaping the building, yet alone the Capitol. 

An elevator you knew as you stood in front of it. They had them in large government buildings that you would sometimes ride as you delivered material from work. 

The elevator door opens and he hits the top floor. 

 As it goes up, you feel your stomach drop. Once you reached the top floor, would you ever go down again? Was your life now confined within this building?

It reaches the penthouse too fast. Your feet refuse to move as the door opens. 

Coriolanus tries a gentle tug but as the doors try to close again, he motions turn into a pull. 

“We’re almost there.” He digs in his pocket for a key. 

His key ring that used to carry so many keys now only held three. 

The sound of an opening door is met with a loud pop of streamers. 

You flinch as the colorful tissues attack you.  

A high pitch scream precedes a weight being thrown at Coriolanus but he catches it easily and with great joy. 

You take the chance to jump back out of the way. 

“Hey,” he laughs.You watch the cousins embrace. You had once promised yourself that letters would be as close as you got to Tigris and now she stood in front of you. 

“Coryo! You’re finally home,” she captures his face in a loving embrace and he smiles back. 

A crooning sound overtakes the moment and an old women takes the spot of Tigris. 

“My boy. Future president of Panem.” 

He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. She turns her head for him to do so, coming eye to eye with you. 

She turns to you as Coriolanus releases her. 

“Don’t just stand there, child. Come forward, let me take a look at you.”

 Grandma’am eyes you, causing you to curl further into yourself. 

Coriolanus clears his throat and places his hand on your lower back to move you forward. 

“May I introduce Mrs. Snow.”

“Mrs. Snow! Oh Coryo!” Tigris gasps, “How could you?” 

“We had too. The media would never have left us alone if they knew. But-” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small jewelry box, “We saved the most important part for you: the rings.”

He takes a ring out of the box. Your hand shakes but he holds it steady as he slides the ring on. 

Fifty small rectangular diamonds cover a gold band. It was shiny and heavy on your finger. 

Tigris gasps upon seeing it but you have no reaction. 

He then passes you a gold band and holds his hand out to you. 

You push the ring on his finger quickly. 

It was enough for Tigris who claps and jumps. 

She wraps her arms around your neck while her grandmother lifts your hand up to inspect the ring. 

As they give you space, Coriolanus takes it, bringing you back into his arms. 

“I want to hear everything!” Tigris says.

She walks to the living room table and takes a bottle of champagne out of a bucket of ice.

It could have been the lack of food and water over the past three days. It could have been the pure overwhelming feeling of it all. But as the cork of the champagne is opened, your knees give way and you collapse unconscious. 

Coriolanus manages to catch you and you feel his hard arm under your head. 

You hear him call out to you before the darkness fades your vision. 

—----------

You wake at midnight in a fright. 

You knew you were in a bed but everything was pitch black. 

Was everything a dream? Was Edmund alive and just below you?

The answer was no. Coriolanus woke with your fast movements and worked quickly to pull you into his arms. 

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright.” 

You struggle against him in a panic. 

“You’re alright. You’re safe,” he consoles. 

“No, no, I’m not.” You feel his face under your fingertips and push against him. 

He retaliates by capturing both your wrists in his hand, pulling them down. 

“Stop it. Calm down now. You’re alright.” 

His weight tugs on your wrists as he leans back to flick on the bedside lamp. It cast a yellow light in which you could see him clearly. 

He had gone to sleep in only his underwear again. His old Commander ways were still clawing on. 

You register that you had been re-dressed into cotton pants and a large top.

“Please, Coriolanus. Let me go. I haven’t done anything,” you cry. 

He pulled you closer by your wrists so your body was leaning against his. 

"Please, I am sorry,” your tears soak his bare chest but he doesn’t move, “I am so sorry.”

He moves his arms around you so you were cradled but it did nothing to help soothe you. 

“No, no, please,” you struggle but his hold was tight. “I never did anything wrong.” 

You tried so hard to be good. Now you were being punished for it. 

“I know. I know that,” he insisted, bringing you closer. 

“It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.” 

You can’t. The image of Edmund swinging in the wind haunted you. 

“Oh Edmund,” you cried. It wasn’t his fault. He was only trying to protect you. 

Coriolanus made no comment given your state. 

“It’s alright. Everything is alright,��� he repeats. He hums softly, a song that his mother used to sing when he was a child. He was surprised he still remembered it, or most of it at least. 

He used to hum it during his school years when academic pressure hindered his sleep. 

It rose his anxiety levels just from the association with those years, but it worked to settle you so he continued. 

Your mother used to hum you to sleep as well. When you had bad dreams, she would sit on your bed and run her fingers through your hair as she hummed. 

It was easier to pretend that you were only a child back in your bed with your mother next to you, protecting you from all the horrors of the world. 

—--------------

 The next morning you woke as Coriolanus finished dressing for the day. 

Your movement gains his attention, he finishes putting on his coat and comes to sit next to you on the bed. 

“Hey, how’d you sleep?”. 

He runs a warm hand over your face. You sit up to brush him off. 

“I’ve told Tigris and grandma’am to leave you alone today so you can rest.”

Your stomach drops at the thought of being isolated again. You couldn’t be left alone with your thoughts today. 

Already it’s racing with guilt. 

You latch onto his arm. 

“No. Coriolanus please, don’t lock me in here.” 

He looks to weigh up his options before deciding.  

“I won’t. But you need to show me that you can behave. I won’t have you upsetting Tigris or Grandma’am.

“I won’t,” you promise. 

“They don’t need to know the full extent of us. Only that we are happy to be here together.”

“Ok, Coriolanus.” 

You shove the thick blanket off and swing your body off the bed. 

You follow Coriolanus to the kitchen table where Tigre’s and grandma’am sat eating breakfast. 

Tigre’s rises as you enter into the room. She keeps her distance so not to overwhelm you. 

“Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asks. 

“Much better now. Thank you. I am sorry if I offended you yesterday. I wasn't feeling well.” 

“No! Of course not.” Tigris exclaims, “God, you’ve been through so much. I couldn’t even imagine how you are feeling right now.”

Your eyes flick to her. Coriolanus had made it seem like her and Grandma’am knew nothing of the truth, but could she know at least part of it?

“You must have been so frightened when those rebels took you to the mountains,” Grandma’am commented between a scone. 

Your eyes shoot at Coriolanus, who was already looking at you, silently telling you to be quiet.  

A twisted truth is as good as the truth itself in his books. 

“Yes, I was. Everyday. But I knew Coriolanus was coming.”

“Our Coriolanus isn’t scared of coward rebels!” Grandma’am exclaims. 

Coriolanus was quick to change the subject at the first sound of silence, “Tigris, she hasn’t had breakfast yet.

The breakfast table is near silent as everyone ate. 

It was a relief when Coriolanus kissed you goodbye. The company of Tigres was much easier to keep. 

—-----‘

Coriolanus was busy now that he was home. Interviews and meetings took most of his time now that the elections were coming up. 

You saw little of Grandma’am, but Tigris almost always was in the apartment. 

She tried to be kind to you. She often went out of her way to check on you. But you avoided her. Staying in the room you were placed in. If you said the wrong thing to her, it was sure to make its way back to Coriolanus, and your family was to pay for it. 

Your days before Coriolanus returned home were filled by looking out the window, or preparing an item of clothing for Coriolanus. He always wanted to have at least one thing on that you had some part in preparing. 

He tore off his buttons so you could sew them back on, you shined brand new shoes that didn’t need it, ironed shirts that had already been ironed for him. 

You didn’t argue when he asked you to do it. 

If you performed an action in the way he wanted, he would give you updates on your family. 

From what you gathered, they were fed and allowed an hour outside together. 

 The day of the election came fast. 

It felt as if it happened overnight, but it had been three days since your arrival in the Capitol. 

The election was called at eight o'clock which meant the entire day was filled with buzz.  People came in and out all day. Coriolanus spent the entire day on the phone, or in between breaks talking to the people in the room.

You sat in his chair as he worked standing. You watched the people as they came in and out. They looked different from people back home. 

They all had something unusual about them. Funny color hair, a piercing that stuck out of their face. One thing they all had in common was their high quality clothing. Nothing like the sacks District clothes are made out of. 

Grandma’am and Tigris had gone out to prepare themselves for the election. It was nearly night but they had been gone since the morning.

Coriolanus was in the middle of getting a haircut when two females came up to you and requested that you followed them. 

Coriolanus told you to do so from where he sat. You didn’t ask why as you followed them to the bedroom. 

With the door shut, they tell you to shower and come back so they can dress you for the election. 

The news causes you to tense. You were not ready to face the Capitol. 

But with no choice, you take a shower and return for them to do their work. 

They only talk to each other as they work. 

They dress you in a white strapless gown that split up the side to show more white sparkly tulle, and white heels that were shorter and easier to walk in than the pink heels that you had at the train station. 

They gossip about elite members of the Capital. Who was cheating on who. Who wore what. 

One burns you with a hot iron as she curls your hair because she leans forward to laugh. No apology is given as she continues to talk. She pins small white roses throughout your hair. The pins scrape your head as they enter your hair but you make no complaint. 

You were grateful when they finished dressing you. As soon as they begin to pack up, you exit the room without a goodbye.

You run into Coriolanus, still with his team in the living room. He stood in front of a tall mirror as you had taken the main bedroom. 

He matched you in white. Admittedly, he looked gorgeous in a double-breasted suit with his white shirt peeking out from it. The first few first buttons were undone and a silver chain with your ring hung around his neck. 

He was fixing a white rose to his chest pocket when his eyes caught you in the mirror behind him. 

“We are finished here,” he tells the room, who pack up immediately. 

He looked nervous, and you supposed he should be. All his life had been leading up to this moment. 

He talks low to you so the others don’t hear as they leave, almost whispering in your ear. 

“Just a few more hours and you’ll be looking at the President of Panam.” 

Your hands shook, and you flexed them to try and shake the nerves out. 

Coriolanus, always hyper-aware, noticed, capturing your hands and bringing them up to his face to kiss. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one shaking?” he jokes. 

“I don’t want to go. You don’t need me there.” 

“I do need you there.” He releases you, annoyed at your resistance. 

You sit down on the couch as the people make their way to the door. 

“Do I need to remind you that your performance tonight is crucial to your family's survival?” 

“No,” you say softly, “That’s never left my mind.” 

He crouches down in front of you, resting his hands on your waist. 

 “Good. Now people know you are District, but you’re not to mention it. If anyone mentions it to you, you tell me straight away.” He flicks your chin up so you are looking at him and not at your lap. “Hey, straight away.”

You nod your head in understanding. You had no plan to talk freely with any of the Capitol brood anyway.

“As first lady of Panem, you’ll be required to attend performances like these from time to time. I need to know I can trust you not to embarrass me when you do.”

You nod your head once again, “You can.” 

You remember Ravenstill’s wife. All she did was smile and sit pretty. You could do the same, regardless of the pain you felt. 

He raises himself slightly to press his lips against yours before rising entirely. 

“The car is waiting down stairs.” You rise with him and he takes your hand in his through the walk. 

The car ride is silent. Coriolanus began to practice his speech again as you stared out the window. 

The Capitol seems quieter than usual. No car buzzed around as you drove. One or two passed but they seemed to be in their own rush. Not a person roamed the street.

All of the Capitol held their breath as they waited for their new President. 

The car stops in front of a huge fountain surrounded by a large field. It was out of place amongst the sky scrapers. It was filled with people, all wearing peculiar colorful clothing. Nearly all of them wore a white rose upon their chest.

They surrounded a large stage lit up with bright lights.

Rows of chairs were lined across the back of the stage.  People hovered around them, all wearing white like you. They greet Coriolanus as he walks through. Some of them even greet you, but you hate them all the same.

You see his grandmother and cousin sitting directly behind the podium. He seems to be trying to make a beeline to them, but people keep interrupting them.

He keeps his temper, politely dismissing them as he wades through the crowd. 

His grandmother jumps up to kiss him. He uses his spare hand to bring her in close.

“President Snow, we salute you,” she says sincerely.

“I’ve not won anything yet, Grandma’am,” but his smirk told that he knew he was about to.

Grandma’am wore a hat of white roses but a simple white dress suit and pearls.

Tigris rose as well to hug her cousin now her grandmother was out of the way. Her strapless white dress hugged her curves right down to her ankles where the dress dissolved into white tulle. You could see the outline of white roses on her dress too. Her makeup was centered around the pale pink eyeshadow that was blown out towards her temple.

Finishing with Coriolanus, Tigris turns and hugs you, but you couldn’t manage it back.

Coriolanus leans down to whisper in your ear, “All you have to do is sit down next to Tigris and smile. Can you do that?”

Your families life depended on it, so you smile back at him to show that you could.

The Panem national anthem began to play bringing a hush over the audience as they all go back to stand in front of their seat and sing.

Coriolanus stood next to you, still holding your hand as he sung. The camera flashed in your face and you decide it was better to sing along.

The song finishes and the large screen behind you switches to a man with a microphone on one side and another man in a field similar to Coriolanus. You assumed the latter was his political opponent.

It was the cue for the people on stage to take a seat. You take yours next to Tigris and Coriolanus walks up to the podium.

Smaller screens are prompted up along the front of the stage so that no one on the stage was facing backwards.

You watch as the man with the microphone gives his introduction, introducing himself as Lucky Flickerman before the screen flashes to Coriolanus, and then cuts to Augustus.

You eye the open field. The guards were all focused to the front. There were a few people off the side but they looked mostly like stylists and operation managers. They would hardly put up a fight for you.

You could make it. At least on to the street. But how would you make it back home? How would you free your family? How could you live with yourself in District 12 without Edmund?

Tigress reaches out and entangles your hand with her in comfort. It brings you back to the election.

Lucky performs a few magic tricks as the final votes are counted.

“Now for the moment we have all been waiting for.'' An assistant runs up and places an envelope into Lucky’s hand.

“The results are in people! Who has Panem chosen to be our new leader? The savvy businessman or the fearless Commander? Let’s find out!”

Not a word was spoken as the man opened the envelope. It must have been the result he wanted, for he broke out into a grin and began to shake his head.

“Just as I predicted. Ladies and gentleman, the new President of Panem: Coriolanus Snow!”

The crowd erupts in cheering around you. Loud popping sounds precedes colorful confetti dropping from mounted cannons. Tigris lets go of your hand to clutch Coriolanus.

She sprang up from her seat and captured his head between her arms. His grandmother is next up to crowd him. He brushed off people quickly, he had a speech to make.

You wonder if you should get up but there were already too many people around him. You would only be in the way.

He makes his way to you, bending down to place a kiss on your cheek before turning back to shake hands with those around him.

The win came as no surprise to him but he wore a large smile, and seemed almost giddy at the news.

He turns back to the podium and people quieten as he gives his speech. You heard him mutter it a million times. You could almost recite it for him.

“Today is a new day for Panem,” it began.

You eye your freedom just down the stairs but remain seated and smiling.

You’re not sure how long Coriolanus spoke for, but the applause and cheering told you he had stopped.

Before you knew it he was standing in front of you with an outstretched hand. You take it and he stops to kiss his family, giving them instructions as to where they should now go before he leads you down the steps and into the crowd.

You shrink back as they gather around him. His grasp hurt. Your bones in your hand felt as if they were about to pop out of place. But it was too easy to get lost in the crowd, so he wouldn’t loosen it.

Too many voices overlapped to hear any single one. A few pats on your shoulder was all the attention you received while Coriolanus was drowning in a sea of people.

You couldn’t make out his words over the people and the music. You let yourself be overtaken with the senses.

You smiled and nodded at people as you passed them. It was Coriolanus’ big night, you couldn’t even fathom the punishment if you were to make a mistake tonight.

You stay close to him, just over his shoulder.

He looks back to check on you one or two times but never opens his mouth.

Confetti had been hidden in his curls. You focused on counting the pieces.

The whirl-pool of people seemed to never end. As soon as one person faded another took their place.

It must have been half an hour before Coriolanus made the small distance to the apartment block.

It was 30 stories with a roof top bar that was pumping with lights and music.

The rest of the people would mingle down below with food and drinks. Huddling around the colorful glass standing tables.

You reach the entrance, guarded by two peacekeepers, and Coriolanus leads you in front of him as he presses the button for the elevator.

It was quick to come and Coriolanus pushed your hips to make you move inside.

He lets go of you as you enter and gives a wave to his fans as the door closes.

The elevator is dead quiet. Only the faint sound of pumping music could be heard.

You think he is too wrapped up in his victory to pay you any mind now you were out of sight of the public.

You were relieved almost to be out from under his attention. But he moves quick to push you up against the wall and smash his lips onto yours.

His hands steady your face as he assaults your lips.

He leaves you out of breath and grins at you widely for it.

The door dings open, and he pulls back from you. Only taking a loose grip of your hand.

Another cheer for the President was heard over the music as he steps out.

You look around the room at all the people in white. Supporters of a maniac.

Tigris and Grandma’am were offered a lounge chair as they ate and drank.

“Look,” he spoke to you, taking a green drink off a tray offered to him, “The apple pie drink you wanted. I requested it especially for you.”

He passed you the drink as a man approached him.

You managed to get a “thank you” out before the stranger began to talk.

Coriolanus paid you no more mind the rest of the night. He spoke and joked freely with the party goers while stringing you along behind him.

A few spoke to you about mundane things but Coriolanus was quick to end any longer talk then a few seconds.

The drink did taste like apple pie. A low rate apple pie. You could bake one much better. But for a drink it was fine. You ended up drinking three before Coriolanus snatched the fourth and placed it on a nearby table.

Tigres caught your eye a couple of times. You knew she was making sure you were alright. She was kind, and so ‘un-Capitol’.

Grandma’am was more true to her up-bringing. She insisted on teaching you the ways of the Capitol, and training you out of your ‘District ways’.

“It'll be our secret,” she told you over breakfast this morning, “I’ll defend you against the District rumors.”

In a way you supposed it was sweet of her. Although her intentions could very well be for Coriolanus' benefit rather than yours.

The later it got, the quieter it got.

People began disappearing. Others passed out on sofas and lounges.

Coriolanus' energy never seemed to drain, but Tigris’ and Grandma’am’s did.

Tigris had come over and interrupted Coriolanus' conversation. She offered to take you home with her and Grandma’am but Coriolanus was resistant.

“She’s fine, Tigris. I’ll bring her home with me.”

If you had been on equal standing with Coriolanus, you would have protested and just left but you were mud under his shoe, so you smiled at Tigris and told her you would see her in the morning.

Tigris kissed both of you goodbye. You hold on to her for too long. You could tell from the way Coriolanus squeezed your hand.

The party continued long after she had gone.

Your legs hurt from standing in the heels and your dress was too tight to have eaten all you did over the course of the night.

Coriolanus could sense that you were nearing the end of what you could take, so he began his final lap of victory around the room.

You were beyond grateful when he ushered you into the car.

You sighed as you sunk down into the plush leather seats, taking off your heels instantly.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said as the car entered the main road which had returned to its normal state of business even late at night, “You were very well behaved.”

“Congratulations on your win,” you return.

“Snow always lands on top,” he talks softly as he gazes out to the city.

The car rolls through the city smoothly. Coriolanus watches it pass from the window.

You feel half-asleep resting your head back on the seat.

You feel him move you down to a lying position and your eyes shoot wide open. His fingers brush your skin as he slides the skirt of your dress up.

“What are you doing?” You catch his hands and he lowers his head.

He hushes you as he slides your panties off your hips, “All the drivers talk.”

Trapped in a car in a city that kills your people for entertainment, you lay back and don’t make a sound.

You clutch the back of the seat in a tight hold as Coriolanus begins.

Edmund was barely cold in the ground and here you were, being eaten out by the man who killed him.

You try not to focus on it as Coriolanus' lips and tongue work. It pulls a moan from you and Coriolanus hits your thigh.

You press your tongue between your teeth to avoid making noise. A hand makes its way into Coriolanus’ curls and tugging on them gives you a sense of satisfaction.

It encourages him however and his movements become more targeted and passionate.

The car pulls to the curb in front of his house by the time you had made a mess in the backseat.

You lay back with your legs spread as you come down from your high.

A chill shoots through you as the door is opened by the driver but Coriolanus pulls it closed before he could see the scene.

You get up despite not being ready too. Coriolanus grabs your shoes and pockets your panties, taking your hand when its free.

You both emerge from the car as if nothing had happened.

It was late and cold. You thank the driver as you pass him.

The building was huge. Nearly all the floor was covered in titles and your feet made a sound against them.

You try to slow your walk to quite the sound, but Coriolanus was eager to get up to the apartment.

He storms across the lobby, and courtyard before reaching the steps that lead to the elevator.

He presses the button too many times. It doesn’t make it come any faster.

The house is dark and silent as you enter. The women went to bed hours ago, and you were hopping to follow suit.

Coriolanus leads you to his bedroom which is large and not yet decorated.

You pull free from him as you enter. Immediately you tear all the pins and roses from your hair.

You hear Coriolanus drop your shoes.

He clears his throat to gain your attention.

“Your brother and mother have been freed from the compound.”

Your fingers freeze in your hair. It felt as if he had lifted a great weight off your chest. You turn to him in gratitude.

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

He smiles down at you before stooping down to your height and placing a firm kiss to your lips.

You push back against his shoulders after the kiss continues past a normal amount of time.

He pushes back, bracing you against the bed with him on top of you.

His lips turn to your neck as he unzips the back of your dress.

“Coriolanus, please don’t,” you beg.

He slides the dress’s straps off your shoulder as he responds, “Please, just give this to me. Don’t make me take it.’’

The dress is taken off you, and Coriolanus strips it off with kisses.

Only when a kiss is placed on your hip do you begin to struggle.

This man had tormented you for months. Starved you. Robbed you. Killed the man you loved. You would give him nothing freely.

You kick and push him away, but he is stronger.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” He pulls you upward by your wrists to the pillows.

“No! Get off of me!”

“Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads.

You continue to fight but he persists.

 “Please, don’t make me do this.”

“No. No. Edmund! Mum!”

“Shut up,” it was less of a command and more of a plea, “Please, shut up.” 

You do. What would your resistance gain you? A few more seconds until the inevitable. 

His grip loosens as you are still beneath him. 

With only a weak hold of your wrists, he pulls off his clothes. You can hear the movement but can’t force your eyes to open. 

Tears leak down your cheeks but you refrain from making a sound. 

“It’s alright. I’ll take care of you.” 

He lines himself up and pushes in with ease. The pain was subsided due to your wetness from the car ride but the first slow thrusts felt slightly painful and uncomfortable. 

You whine slightly as you adjust to the intrusion. You fight to release your wrists from his hold, you wanted to push back on his shoulders, feeling as if he was too deep. 

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit,” he promised, continuing his slow movements. 

He kisses you as you let out another whine. 

Soon the pain did stop, and an enjoyable sensation began to form. 

Coriolanus tried his best to remain slow, but as he got lost in his own lust, he forgot about your pain. 

It felt as if he was bruising you. But his mouth never left yours so you couldn’t voice a complaint.

Your hips jerk away from him, trying to ease the pressure but his spare hand stills your hip, making you take the full brunt of what he wanted to give you. 

He pulls his head back from yours and groans.

“Ah,” he grunts. 

“Coriolanus-” you had wanted to ask him to slow down but you feel yourself tightening around him as you come. 

His hand moves from your wrists and intertwines with your hand. He presses his weight down as he picks up his pace to chase his own high. 

“Wait, wait!” you were through. Every second after was too much. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he grunts. 

You groan from the pressure as he continues. 

“Almost there, darling.” 

His last few thrusts are hard but the pressure turns into a warm pool between your legs. 

Coriolanus is still as he rests his forehead upon your shoulder. You don’t move either, unsure of what to do. 

A few moments later and he raises his head, repositioning himself so his arms cage around your head. 

 He drags a finger down the bridge of your nose and it runs off your cheek like a tear. 

“Welcome to the Capitol, Mrs. Snow.

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[idyllic-affections]

I see that you do tbhk! If you could can I request friendship hcs for nene, hanako, and Kou? Ty in advance :)

general friendship hcs.

summary. general friendship headcanons with the main three.

trigger & content warnings. references to death.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. yashiro nene & reader, hanako & reader, minamoto kou & reader. 0.8k words. no pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello dear!!!! yes ofc you can.... the tbhk fans have been finding me recently and it makes me so happy helshsjghfh that's my comfort manga (i say, knowing it is the most horrible, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing manga i have read thus far)!!! i COULD say that this is my first time writing for tbhk, but that would make me a liar, because it's not! my first reader insert longfic was a tbhk one on quotev way back in 2021. i'd say i've improved a lot since then.

YASHIRO NENE—

being friends with nene means getting dragged into all of her supernatural adventures. if you're close enough to her, that is.

she, without a doubt, rants to you about her crushes and asks you for advice! she'll also complain about hanako to you, if you so happen to know about him.

she's super supportive. she's always cheering you on and encouraging you! and also, if you want advice or want to rant to her, she's completely open to that.

she rants to you, so you should be able to rant to her too. it's only fair. she does admit, though, that her advice might not be that good.

also i think nene would be physically affectionate. always hugging you, maybe giving you a lil kiss on the forehead if you're comfortable with that! hand-holding is also common with her.

she would be SO happy if you shared her interest in gardening or cooking! she'd love to have another friend to do those things with. if not, that's okay too! she doesn't want her friends to feel uncomfortable or forced to participate in any way.

she cares about you so so deeply and genuinely would be devastated if you ever got hurt because of her.

if you're a ghost, i don't think your dynamic would change much at all, actually. i think she would still treat you the same!

tell her she is pretty!!!! do not let her insecurities get to her!!!! reciprocate her supportive energy!!!!!

she might actually cry if a friend of hers were to support her so passionately.

HANAKO—

like nene, being close enough friends with hanako means you end up getting involved in things you probably shouldn't be involved in LMAO

i don't think he MEANS to get you involved, because he does worry about your safety, but it just sort of... happens. you end up involved regardless.

dude follows you everywhere, 100%

it's like what he does with nene, just without the romantic subtext LMAO

if you're human? he's sitting in your classes with you. he does it mainly for two reasons: one, because it reminds him of when he was alive, and it's strangely comforting. two, because he loves you and wants to annoy you <3

he's generally very clingy, and if you happen to be a ghost? ohohoho it's FAR worse.

he's always touching you in some way.

playing with your hair, fidgeting with your hands, hanging off of your shoulders... he's very touchy. poor thing is so touch starved.

personal space? he has no idea what that phrase means!

(he does, and if you seriously ask him to, he will respect your personal space and boundaries.)

it doesn't come from a bad place. he just finds it grounding. reassuring.

hanako also generally won't come to you with his problems.

he's not keen on being an open book. if you've known him for long enough, he would absolutely be more open to being honest with you, but if you haven't known him long at all? yeah... he's not cracking. trying to forcefully pry him open wouldn't help either.

MINAMOTO KOU—

he will absolutely, without a doubt, make you cute little homecooked meals.

we all know he's the only one out of his sibling's who is both old enough to use a stove and competent enough not to burn the kitchen down, so of course he would spend time making you a lunch!

especially if he felt like you weren't eating enough or you needed something extra to get you through the day. he notices the little details like that.

he's an acts of service kind of guy. he does little things to show you that he cares.

btw. if you're close enough friends with him? tiara and teru will both know you by name. you'll become like another member of their family <3

(tiara would get so excited every time she gets to see you, practically bouncing on her heels.)

i like to think he's a lil protective!!!! he worries about your safety and worries that supernaturals might want to hurt you bc of his involvement with you :c

teru would smite them before they got the chance, though, so kou really doesn't have much to worry about.

if you're a ghost, i think this dynamic would be very fascinating.

teru would try to kill you. yeah... sorry.

kou wouldn't let him though!! he would believe wholeheartedly that you're good and have no intention of being harmful, and because teru isn't really interested in ruining his relationship with his brother... you get to keep living your afterlife!

(please don't betray kou's trust.)

also if you're a little bit older than him, or if you just seem wiser, i think he'd ask you for advice on a bunch of things!

he doubts himself a lot. be sure to reassure him that he's doing the best he can for someone so young.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[the-one-and-only-043]

Hello, I'm Agent Phoenix, formerly known as Agent 043.

Roxy told me I should make a blog, so here I am. I guess I should put some stuff about me here? I don't know how this site works

Uhhh

Well, I'm 38, I'll be 39 in November, and I like cats. And Roxana, of course. She's like, the coolest ever, and also my fiancée :)

I think I'm kinda sorta like a step...parent??? To Right and Robutler??? Idk I'll ask Roxy about that tho

I use any pronouns, so get creative

My first handler was a piece of shit, so feel free to talk shit with me haha

Same with Agent Slimeball Sliver. He's a ball of eugh.

Roxy says I should put some boundaries, like stuff I don't like to talk about, so, um. Here you go, I guess.

I don't like talking about my past with Zoraxis in detail, so try to refrain from asking about that. Same with how Handler 043 treated me. Don't be a dick about my scars. The basics, don't be a homophobe, or a racist, or a creep here. I am a liberal user of the block button, and if necessary, I'll report you. Don't be a shithead in general.

Uh

Idk what else to put here so bye

______________END TRANSMISSION______________

Hello! Leo here, this blog's moderator and the power behind the throne, so to speak. This is a side blog for my main, @eight-cats-in-a-box, purely for IEYTD and 043! Phoenix!

043 is besties with Reggie!! Their handler is one of the ones closest to their cold, dead heart. :) He's also just recently started dating John Juniper!

043 is dating Roxana! 043 loves the scientist very dearly, and they're quite attached to her. They have a very healthy relationship, and they're planning to propose soon, aided by none other than...

Their murder bestie, John Juniper! He owes being alive today to Phoenix, who dragged him out of the wreckage after Operation: Rising Phoenix. These two are very protective of each other, despite constantly fighting. They've also hooked up before Codename: Agent Clover. Recently, his romantic feelings for Reginald came to light, and they've been in a relationship ever since!

Other notable figures are:

Agent Knockout and his husband, Breakdown! Also known as Damien and Jack Woodworth, this dynamic duo are infamous for their brains-and-brawn mindset. Quite literally, since Breakdown doesn't have a TK implant due to the complications it would cause.

Chief Medical Officer/Lead Field Medic, Doctor Robert "Ratchet" Greaves. Also known as the Hatchet, Greaves is sick of it. 043's nonsense, but also the bullshit the rest of the Agency puts him through. Grouch with a heart of gold. Married to Drift.

Field Medic Support Agent Drift! A very long title indeed, one created to keep him by Robert's side. No one knows his real name- not even Drift himself. Married to Robert.

R&D Lead Scientist Percy James Janssen! He has to deal with all of 043's nonsense, not to mention all the bullshit he gets put through just trying to make stuff. He's married to Brian Gunnings, R&D's resident problem.

Reality Breaker and General Shenanigan-Causer Brian "Storm" Gunnings! This maniac makes too many guns, too many time-travelling briefcases, and...probably too many explosions. Has a habit of flirting with Percy when he's holding chemicals. This is not malicious (somehow) he just really likes his hubby. :)

Magnus Bates, Esq.! 043's fraternal twin and younger-by-ten-minutes brother, he's gotten them off of death row! Don't ask. He's a stickler for the rules, but he's a sucker when it comes to his big sis.

Agent Hot Rod! This flamboyant character drives everyone up the wall, especially when him and 043 team up. He's also got crippling self-doubt, but that's besides the point. Acts like he's hot shit.

...Whirl. This absolute madman of a chopper pilot probably shouldn't be allowed to fly, but he's also the best there is, so who's gonna stop him?

Rung! 043's therapist, kindest soul you'll ever meet, and probably as old as the Earth itself! Kidding. He likes model planes.

Ex-Operative Megatronus! Don't let that title fool you, this grouch has a massive soft spot for anything small and cute. Like his cat. Or his boyfriend.

Orion Pax! This librarian/archivist has a heart of gold and a strong sense of justice, and will not hesitate to throw a punch for the greater good, much to Megatronus's chagrin.

043 is also the parental/fraternal figure to several agents, including ones in alternate dimensions, as well as Prism's kids! Right Robot and Robutler both think they're pretty neat, and their rookies have never been safer :)

TAGS

#043 rambles

Talk tag! Inchar posts, chats, etc

#043 reblogs

Self-explanatory

#043 lore

Phoenix lore!!!

#043 family unit

Specific to those Phoenix has "adopted"

#043 answers

Self-explanatory

#043 flashbacks

RP tag!

#agent duo knockdown

Anything pertaining to Agents Knockout and/or Breakdown!

#cmo dr robert greaves

Anything about 043's favourite grouch :)

#support agent drift

Anything about the infamous ex-Zoraxis Operative Drift. Most know him better as Greaves's husband :)

#lead scientist percy janssen

All the things about one of Drift's dearest friends, and the Agency's deadliest sniper/scientist!

#reality breaker brian gunnings

Anything about Percy's issue annoyance lab partner husband! He does not care about laws. Any laws. This includes the laws of physics/spacetime/reality/etc. This drives Percy up the wall. Has successfully time-traveled. Don't ask.

#magnus bates esq

Anything to do with 043's little brother!

#agent hot rod

Our favourite fashion disaster :)

#lone pilot whirl

This absolute madman really does care. He just sucks at showing it.

#rung the therapist

He's old as dirt.

#archivist orion

Our favourite dumbass

#ex operative megatronus

Don't let that glare fool you. He calls his cat Ravvy.

[astorythatwritesitself]

Re-intro time? Re-intro time

About Me & This Blog:

• Paine. Queer, 30, any pronouns. I follow back from dr-paine; and you'll never guess what my AO3 username is.

• Writing for 20+ years in some capacity

• Genre of choice is Fantasy. (High, low, slice of life or ungodly horror, mixed with sci-fi or the most classic Medieval sword and sorcery bullshit, I just need a touch, even if only implied, of magic.) I don't delve much into NSFW but it may come up; in any case: please only follow if you're 18+, and treat this blog with the mindset of 'creator chose not to use archive warnings'.

• I crave interaction, especially via tag/ask games - seriously. I reblog a lot of them. Do Not Hesitate. (And I always try to send an ask if you reblog any from me!)

• Hobbyist writer - I'm not aiming to be published, but I do want to improve my skills and eventually like... 'win a NaNo' in the sense of writing a complete, longform story one of these days. But also having fun is a priority, and ADHD + work is a cruel mistress, so I'll jump between WIPs on a whim, or just. Drop shit for months on end lol.

Vague List of Active Projects

While I have a ton of ideas, these are the ones that actually have like... any sort of substance to them, whether it's actual words or just a solid outline + desire to work on it. Each will eventually get a dedicated links/resource post, but for now, here's the basics!

Relentless As The Tide

(Mass Effect fics (roughly) following canon events/characters)

Adrian Shepard has been primed for heroism her entire life. Her first chance ended in a tragedy, one neither she nor the Alliance has ever properly owned up to. Saren's betrayal and the beacon's vision offer her the chance to atone for her failure at Akuze, and she'll do everything in her power to do so - even (and especially) if it kills her in the process.

Or so she believes - but uncovering the truth means looking for allies, and the more she gathers, the harder it becomes to believe that her death should - or can - be the end; and that perhaps heroism is just a means of distraction from confronting her own demons.

Unnamed Pokemon Project

(Loose follow through/retelling of Pokemon: Soul Silver)

Giovanni Rossi, former leader of the Viridian City pokemon gym, has confessed to heading the infamous Rocket organization, whose poaching and illegal trade has devestated the Kanto ecosystem for the past twenty years. However, he claims it was all for a good cause - just prior to founding Rocket, Giovanni had been part of a team trying to create artificial pokemon... and their most viable subject escaped. Rocket existed for the sake of tracking down and eventually overpowering this creature, but now... well, he wishes those in the Kanto and Johto regions the best of luck.

Following a break in at the New Bark Town lab, an assistant to Professor Elm - a reclusive young man named Linden - tracks down the suspect, only to find it's none other than Silver Rossi, Giovanni's own son. The boy claims he wants to take down the creature his father helped create and clear his own name from the scandal... and Linden has reasons of his own that make him want to see how things play out, even if it means he must shadow Silver's journey by embarking on one of his own.

Unnamed OC Project

(Original fantasy work)

In a world of faded magic, Elora Ryba cares little for talk of soon-to-come saviors or the sightings of dragons. No, she has other things on her mind - return to the town she was forced to leave over ten years ago, and steal its most precious treasure. And, ideally, marry her, as Elora promised that night she was forced to flee.

Which is why Elora's spent the past month searching for a priest corrupt enough to join a pirate's crew, but not corrupt (or worse, moral) enough to turn her in, and she thinks she's finally found one.

And the big list of fandoms/shit I like!

[moonstone27ls]

Chucky-Death on Denial

LOVEDDD IT!!!

Warning spoilers...

warning....

warning.....

I’m warning YOU.....

You keep going its on you....

causeeee...

....

.

.....

....I’m not sorry to speak.

First off love the actor who’s playing Glen/Glenda! A bit surprised they couldn’t get real twins. Also that Glenda’s short haired one, I was sure Glenda would be styled with long hair but not judging. Their design works for them.

I admit I’m a bit confused by the numbers. Cause.... Meg Tilly said Jen stopped talking to her 24 years ago. But the twins are 18.... feels off.

Anything I wanna mention on the twins... uhh somewhat glad they cleared the air that Tiff’s been trying to make sure the twins forget their past.... though also confused as to why? Its clear Tiff never quit killing and enjoyed it.... so why try to suppress Glenda’s killer urges. Was she afraid they’d get more caught?

While I’m SUPER glad Kyle’s still alive... confused. Not on Kyle more of is it safe for Glenda to be amongst their ranks. I get why Glenn would help. They’re the “good” twin. But Glenda is clearly following their parents’ killing tracks. Considering they was ready to take that chance and kill their mother. Just not sure if Glenda’s safe to have with them.

Though I did love how everyone went to the twins defense when the racist/stupid “butler” insulted them on their pronouns.

Also random question for Chucky fans... are Glen/Glenda suppose to be one entity then? The talk of how the twins don’t feel fully whole. I always thought Glen/Glenda were like “Oh some sorta parasitic twin thing”... soo does that mean they’re one soul that Tiff split up cause she thought she was doing right by them?

I loved Chucky’s show outside the episode... does that make it meta or breaking the fourth wall? (sorry to ask I’m a dummy).. Aslo... gonna ask are we gonna assume Tiffany’s gonna get put back in that doll again? Thats the SECOND time they’re brought up the “Belle” doll and I feel like there’s a reason for that.

And then we have Tiffany.... lord I dunno if she’s “unraveling”, going naturally cuckoo or what. But her scenes with Nica are sooooo cringy. And again anyone who ships them, NO Nica clearly doesn’t love her. So its not love, its obsession/stalking. Plusssss... I’m gonna say it. Tiff’s a bit of a slut 8B. Even if Joey and Gina thought they were banging “Jennifer Tilly”, she’s got TWO who clearly love her. She can’t use the “I’ve never been treated better” or “I want better” than Chucky so thats why shippers over look that crazness there 8B.

I mean even if Joey’s dead did you see Gina. She’s clearly THERE. I just wanna be “Tiff WHY are you trying to torture Nica when clearly you have a list of people who would bang you”.

Anddd although she got dramatic and said Chucky broke her heart... why does she still refer to him as her “husband”? Heh I dunno I clearly think she’s unraveling. I dunno if its all her lies/murders/ or just “attempting” to be a star when clearly she has no real talent for it. I mean I love Tiff but if she wanted to be a star she could have actually tried to do STAR work. Oh well whatever. Its a crazy show of Don Mancini and I’m here for the ride.

I do hope Andy’s alive and that he and Kyle can survive this show 8D;;.  Again am curious to see how this new dynamic works... also... the twins are older than Jake and co sooo would they befriend them... well I guess Glenn would. Dunno about Glenda once they embrace their killing spree. What’s gonna happennnnnn?

Though points to Chucky to almost automatically (unless its cause he shares a mind with Nica) recognizing Glenda and actually being proud of them. Guess he did mean it when he supported his “kids”? Also points to Meg Tilly to supporting her nonbinary twins as well or should I have said “niblings” (Sorry to any LGBTQ people, I’m learning as I go along)

[thatonecoryosimp]

Forbidden Fruit. Stepdad!Dream x Reader

I- well... I don't have an excuse for writing this. By the way, I do not support having any romantic/sexual relations with stepfamily, this is all fiction and should be treated as such. I didn't use pronouns for the reader and afab body parts.

Words: 1,867

Warnings: Age gap, stepcest (Please don't have sex with your step siblings/parents), slight degradation, cheating (I do not condone this either, once again, purely fictional), choking, handcuffs, hair pulling, toys, daddy kink, slight overstim.

Started: 7/24/2022

Finished: 8/2/2022

~~~

Ever since my mom brought home her new boyfriend when I was eighteen, I knew I was in trouble. It was so hard to not stare at him, he was beautiful in every way. From his dirty blonde hair that had some semblance of grey streaks on the side, to his emerald eyes that would burn into my soul.

It only got worse after they got married. My mom had rushed so quick with him, getting engaged only a month after dating and having their wedding 8 months after. I had just freshly finished up high school and was moving out for college when he first moved in, at the time I was thanking my lucky stars that I wouldn't have to live with him for more than two weeks, but by the end, I was almost begging myself not to leave.

Nothing ever explicitly happened during those two weeks, but it was the way he would trail his hands down my shoulders whenever my mom wasn't around. How he would purposefully brush up against me whenever he walked by, the way he would lean close to me to the point where I could feel his breathing fan across my skin.

After I left my mind was always going to him on lonely nights. During the times I couldn't fall asleep and dipped my hands under the elastic of my shorts in the hopes of release.

Everything was fine, after a few months of being at college, the thought of Clay started to fade. He became more of a distant old fantasy than a man that lived in my head rent-free.

But then I had to go back for Christmas.

The house smelt of my mom's amazing cooking. The aroma filled my senses and helped me forget about my worries about her husband. That was until he stepped in front of me and pulled me into his chest.

"Hey, beautiful! It's so good to have you home again," he greeted in a cheery tone as he took a step away from me but kept his hands on my shoulders. I smiled, a slight blush creeping on my face.

"Hey, Clay. Where's my mom?"

"Oh, she's in the kitchen, darling."

I smiled and took a step back, placing my luggage on the floor and darting into the kitchen.

I greeted my mom with a happy hello and a warm hug. I was determined to not let Clay ruin my time home.

~~~

We had an amazing Christmas Eve dinner, one of the best in years, and for once I was able to forget about the weird tension between Clay and me. If only it lasted.

On Christmas morning I was woken up to the sound of my alarm blaring, I had thrown the covers off and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. Clay was sitting at the island counter sipping on an energy drink.

"No Christmas breakfast?" I asked in a playful tone. Clay's head snapped in my direction and a smile pulled at his lips.

"No, doll, but if you're really that desperate I'm sure I could stuff you."

A blush rose on my cheeks but I brushed it off, letting out an awkward chuckle. He stood up and started walking to me in slow steps. For every step he took, I took one back. But then I was pressed against the wall and he was caging me in.

"I'm serious, y'know. Don't even think I don't see how you look at me." He started leaning in, his lips just an inch from mine, and right as I was about to close the distance we heard my mom open the door to her bedroom.

Clay pulled away quickly and I let out a whine. He looked at me and smirked.

"Don't worry, darling, you'll get your present later."

~~~

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I had thrown myself into bed in a flurry of less-than-graceful movements. It didn't take long for my eyes to close and for sleep to surround me.

I was awoken by a dip in the bed. My head shot up only to be held back down. I heard a familiar chuckle as my eyes found striking emerald eyes just inches from my face.

"You didn't think I would back down, did you? I have a present for you."

He leaned over to flick on my lamp light so I could see properly, in his hands sat a bright pink dildo and a pair of handcuffs. My eyes widened in shock and I heard him laugh.

"If at any point you want me to stop, you tell me, alright?" I nodded. "Good, now come here, stand in front of me."

I did as told, pushing off the blankets and moving to stand in front of where he was sitting.

"Strip."

My face heated and my eyes widened. My hands went to my shirt first, pulling the fabric over my shoulders. I could see him smirk slightly. My hands went to my pants and tugged them down before stepping out of them.

"Good, now turn around and put your wrists together behind your back."

I obeyed, legs working before I could even process what I was doing.

I could feel the metal of the handcuffs against my skin before I heard the click of them being locked into place.

I felt his hands on my hips as he pulled me backward so I was sitting on his lap, my back against his chest.

His hands went to my thighs and he pulled them apart, his hand dipping down to my folds.

"Already so fucking wet for your daddy, huh? You're such a fucking slut for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy," I managed to let out in a breathy whimper as his fingers started rubbing circles on my clit. My head tilted back to lean against him further, a moan escaping my lips as he pressed a bit harder.

Suddenly I felt pressure at my entrance, I looked down to see him pressing the tip of the dildo to my folds.

"Want me to push it in, baby? Want me to use a plastic cock to get you off?"

"Yes, daddy, please!"

As soon as the words slipped from my mouth I felt the cold plastic slip between my folds. The toy was big, stretching me to a point I didn’t think would be physically possible. Once it was fully seated in me Clay seemed to pause.

“Is this still alright, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, feels so good,” I slurred out.

At my words he started quickly moving the toy in and out of me, a strangled cry left my lips as I arched my back against his chest. His free hand came up to my mouth.

"Quiet, darling, wouldn't want your mother to wake up."

I bit my lip and I felt his hand travel to my neck, squeezing the sides of it just enough to barely constrict my breathing.

"Daddy~, I'm gonna- gonna cum," I sputtered.

His hand grew tighter, "No you're fucking not."

I let out a noise of question before I felt him pull the dildo out. I whined but he just chuckled.

"Don't worry, little bitch, daddy's gonna fill ya up."

He shifted me onto the bed, him now laying between my outstretched legs.

He pulled off the sweater he was wearing and gave me a full view of the muscular expanse of his chest. I felt my lips part slightly as I stared. He looked up at me and chuckled.

His hands went to his sweats, quickly pulling down his boxers with them. He kicked them off, throwing them somewhere on the floor as he pressed his lips to mine.

"Think you can take me, doll?"

"Yes, please just fuck me."

He smiled again and I felt the tip of his cock being pressed to my cunt as he lined himself up. Soon enough he had slipped himself into my puffy lips and I leaned back, letting out a strangled moan as I did.

"You're so fucking wet."

I let out a whine as his hands came up to my chest, squeezing my nipples and tugging at the sensitive buds.

"Can I move?"

I quickly nodded and I felt his hips pull back before pushing back in. He started at a brutal pace, wrapping a hand around my throat while his other one was on the bed helping him stay stable.

Moans and whines were falling from my lips, and I could hear soft groans coming from the man above me.

I could feel my high pooling in my lower stomach, I fought against the restraints so I could try and grab onto him, but to no avail.

"Daddy, may I please cum? Please?" I managed to get out.

"Yes, doll. cum on daddy's cock."

I absent-mindedly nodded as I felt myself clench around him before finally, I unraveled.

I cried out, my vision becoming hazy. After a few moments, I had come back, realizing he was still thrusting into me at a sharp pace.

I cried out, the feeling of overstimulation becoming very prominent.

"I'm gonna cum, doll. Can I come inside?"

I quickly nodded, "I'm on the pill."

He groaned and nodded before I felt his hand move to my clit, rubbing fast circles on it.

I cried out, the overstim bleeding into pleasure as I felt the knot building again.

"You can give me another, can't you? Wanna cum with daddy?"

I nodded again and heard him laugh before his thrusts started getting sloppy. I felt his cock twitch inside me and his movements on my clit sped up.

My back arched into him and he pressed his head into the crook of my neck, "Cum, doll."

I obeyed, tipping over the edge again as I felt him slow and thrust one more time before hot ropes of cum started to cover my walls.

We sat there for a few moments, him hovering over me while we panted.

I felt him slip out and get up, he went to grab our clothes. He sat me up and unlocked the handcuffs, sitting them on my bedside table before slipping my shirt over my head.

"I'm gonna go get a rag, alright?"

I nodded.

He came back a few moments later and then cleaned us both up.

He slipped his clothes on before handing me my underwear.

He smiled at me and leaned over, pressing his lips to my forehead.

"If your mother wasn't home, I'd stay here with you."

I smiled.

"She's going on a trip all next week, and I'll still be home."

He smirked, "Well, we'll have some bonding time next week," he whispered before glancing over at the handcuffs.

I blushed and shook my head.

He pressed his lips to mine again before pulling away.

He stood and walked to the door, before leaving he turned back.

"Goodnight, doll."

"G'night, Clay," I muttered as I turned my light off. I snuggled into the sheets, my eyes closing as I let out a pleased sigh, although it was hard to ignore the feeling of guilt, but that was future me's problem.

~~~

That was the longest fic I have ever written. Took me like a week and it isn't even edited. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it. Once again, please please please, don't cheat and don't have sex with stepfamily.

Stay safe, and drink water.

I love you,

~Ace <3

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

HIIII HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY<<3333 can i request headcannon of being friends with grell?? and the reader understands her issues of being trans even tho they are from the victorian era? <3

EYYYYY THANK YOU!! you have a good day too bb!!

my personal headcanon for Grell is genderfluid, so I did make some mention of that here

but I also did stick to fem pronouns for this one and hopefully it’s what you’re looking for!!

we stan a supportive friend, good on ya reader!!! <3 <3 <3

Frustratingly enough, she barely knows how to even explain it to herself, let alone how to explain it to someone else. “Sometimes I feel like a woman, sometimes I feel like a man, sometimes I feel like both, sometimes I feel like neither”, doesn’t that sound batty? It sounds batty to her, but that’s how she feels! She doesn’t have any real word for it; thankfully, you at least sort of understand what she thinks is a confusing explanation.

(When she was still human, people took heavy issue with any attempt to describe what she felt that she could give them. When she tried to say she sometimes felt as if she was in the wrong body and sometimes not, she was met with those around her saying that she was ‘accusing God of making a mistake’. Of course, that was unacceptable and earned her punishment, so she learned not to say anything at all. The wildly varying dysphoria and the reactions of those who should have loved her were the biggest reasons behind her eventual suicide.)

Nowadays she’s quite unabashed about who she is, of course. She isn’t afraid to correct you if you’re happening to use the wrong pronouns or title on any given day. Anyone who doesn’t, in passing, she simply walks away from and doesn’t let it bother her; those people don’t know her, after all. You know her, and you’re a sweet little darling who always treats her well. Although you’ve never been outspoken about it, she gets the feeling that if someone hassled her, you’d be at her defense before she had the chance to summon her scythe.

… Oh, you bought her a cute dress?? Holy heavens, and it actually fits?! You’ve been paying attention!! She usually dresses in a more masculine way simply because it makes her job easier, having to move about collecting souls and whatnot… and yet… she’s so weak for getting to dress up. You know her tastes so well by this point, it’s almost as if she picked it out herself. God forbid you have somewhere to take her once she’s all dolled up ― she’ll get quite giddy about being ‘shown off’ as a pretty lady.

Alas… if you just want to be friends, she’ll understand. Much as she craves romance, she does know some things weren’t meant to be, like Romeo and Juliet. Ah, well! It’s almost a blessing, because she really does need more actual friends. Ronald is okay, but he goes out on dates a lot so isn’t quite a constant presence in Grell’s life. Othello is alright too… he’s so focused on his work, though, she sees even less of him than Ronald. And William and Sebastian… well, they’re just playing hard to get! She really could use someone who’s there often and doesn’t have any ulterior motives other than wanting to be her friend.

Well, as a friend and not a lover, she does let you help her with things like… shaving. And getting dressed, complete with tightening her corset. It’s not quite as embarrassing when it’s you, because you sort of get why she wants to do all these things. It’s a safe bet she won’t be as shy with you, and she’ll actually let you help, whereas she probably wouldn’t let a romantic partner assist her with those things. (… Except perhaps the corset part.)

She really is grateful for your presence in her life, you know? There aren’t too many people who would stick around her for better or worse. Even though you might never fully ‘understand’ what she’s going through without being told, maybe not at all if you aren’t cut of the same cloth she is… she doesn’t really care. You accept her for who she is, and that’s enough. The two of you are stuck with each other!

[amxranthiine]

kalon

(n.) the kind of beauty that is more than skin deep.

request:  Can I ask for platonic Thranduil with sister in law reader, reader is Legola's aunt and she saved Legolas' mother from dying but ended up paralyzed from waist down, needing to be on a wheelchair (let's pretend they have wheelchairs), and Thranduil is very grateful and helps reader a lot with things?

pronouns: she/her

a/n: like six months late but ITS FINE

warnings: ANGST n fluff. mentions of death and orc attacks. nightmares.

---

“Nana? Nana! Wake up, nana, please! You have to wake up!” A little Legolas screams as he watches his mother and aunt’s bodies be carried in by his father’s guard. His mother was pale and lifeless - cold hands and dark eyes, staring back into his own blue orbs as he shook her body. Though, he felt no love from her stare. Nothing about her was the same, her soul had already been lifted from her fragile body.

Next to her lay his aunt, Y/n, his mother’s sister. She was alive but unresponsive, blood was leaving her body faster and faster each second, pooling beneath her like a crimson ball gown. From behind Legolas, his father, Thranduil, was quickly approaching the scene. Loud orders from him to his guards could likely be heard throughout the palace. One would be a fool to miss the fear, desperation and anger laced in his voice.

Y/n stirred from the commotion, her eyes burning and her body flaring in pain as she tried to become responsive once again. She could feel every centimeter of her wound, the sword that stabbed her was likely poisoned - and it embedded it’s way into her spinal cord. She could feel her life force being drained, the light becoming far too close for her liking. Even if she lived, she knew nothing would be the same - with her body and with her family. She had been too late to save her dearest sister, and that thought alone was almost enough to make her give up. However, her little sister left her a nephew and a brother, both of which would need guidance recovering from her sister’s death.

“My King Thranduil -” Started the Captain, though he was soon hushed by the horrified Elf. Thranduil was terribly shaken up, his hair was messy and his robes wrinkled, likely from the speed at which he was running.

Thranduil looked at his beloved Wife and sister in law, and he felt his blood run cold. There was - there was so much blood. His wife was nearly blue and unconscious, was she... No, he wasn’t think like that. He looked over to Y/n, where she was struggling to open her eyes, and groaning from the giant hole in her back. He could feel the tears in his eyes, and he knew deep down that his son no longer had a mother.

Y/n heard her brother in law approaching, and even though she was on the verge of death, she felt as though she had to be the one to break the news. “Thranduil?” She croaked, her throat dry and her lips cracked.

The King rushed to her, grabbing a waterskin in the process and lifting it to her lips. She coughed as she drank down as much as she could. “Y/n...”

She ignored the burning in her eyes and looked up at him, and suddenly, she wanted to cry. She didn’t have that much time left, and she had so much to say. Y/n attempted to take a deep breath, then said her last words.

“I’m so sorry, Thranduil. I - I couldn’t save her - I tried so, so - hard. Please, tell Lego - Legolas we loved him.” She used the last of her energy to say those words, and soon, her eyes slipped shut.

“No! Y/n! You can’t leave me! You can’t leave us! Legolas will need guidance. I will need guidance! Legolas just lost his mother, he can’t lose you too!”

The weight of losing both the love of his life and his sister crashed down on him, and he fell to the ground with a heartbroken scream. A tiny body forced itself into his lap as his son wept along with him, not knowing if he’d ever see his mother or aunt again. Thranduil’s arms wrapped themselves around Legolas as he rocked back and forth on the floor, weeping and crying out to the Valar, cursing them and asking to spare them.

Thranduil gasped for breath as he jumped awake, beads of sweat rolled down his face as he regained consciousness, the nightmare - no - memory he had tried so hard to forget was now engraved into his head once again. He felt the urge to go check on his, now paralyzed, sister in law. Her wounds from that awful day were fatal, but somehow she pushed through the worst of it.

Though, not without consequence. Apparently the blade had all but destroyed her spinal cord, and because of it she was paralyzed from the waist down. The healers told him that it was a miracle she was still alive.

He got out of bed and put on a velvet robe, ignoring the chill in his bones from the cold air. He quietly tiptoed to her room, trying to ignore the feeling of dread, likely the product of his nightmarish memory.

Soon enough, as it was right down the hall, he arrived at his sister's chambers and, as quietly as he could, opened the door. His heart dropped when he saw that she wasn't there, and her wheelchair was nowhere to be found.

Thranduil panicked, his mind buzzing for any clue as to where she could be. The kitchens? No, she has trouble reaching the cabinets, and the accident made it even harder for her to see. Legolas' chambers? Hard no. She could be quite clumsy and can't be quiet to save her life. Literally.

He was starting to panic. What if she was kidnapped? His dearest sister in law, kidnapped by the very creatures who paralyzed her in the first place? It seemed realistic. At least, it did to Thranduil - who was losing his mind from worry. Though the only way they could get into the palace was through the-

Of course! The Royal Gardens!

In his state of worry, Thranduil had conpletely forgotten that Y/n liked to go to the gardens when she was having a hard time, because it was one of the only places that reminded her of her sister, the place where they had the most memories.

He took off towards the Gardens, not really caring about it being in the middle of the night as Elves were light on their feet anyway. In moments he was standing before her, nodding at the guards who took place at the Garden entrance.

Y/n was laying on the grass, her wheelchair was forgotten next to her, and she was playing with an orchid she had plucked, twirling it between her fingers carefully. Thranduil's heart throbbed as he realized that orchids were his wife's favorite flower, and that Y/n was missing her as much as he did. If not more, the sisterly bond between them was something he had never seen before.

He cleared his throat, alerting the woman if his presence. Her head turned slightly to the left as a way to acknowledge him.

"You scared me, Y/n. I couldn't find you, so I assumed the worst." He muttered quietly and sat down next to her.

She chuckled, "You've known me for how long and you still don't know that I tend to... gravitate here?"

The King sighed, he had always known that she used jokes as a coping mechanism, a way to escape her reality. "Yes, yes, I know. I just... I was worried," He frowned, taking the delicate flower from between her fingers. She paused, and he could practically see the gears grinding in her head out of his peripheral vision.

"You're having nightmares again, aren't you?" She asked, and he could feel her eyes burn into his head.

"They aren't just nightmares, Y/n," He twirled the flower absentmindedly, "they're memories."

This time, it was her who sighed, "Of that day?" She questioned, already knowing the answer, but his nod only confirmed it.

"I miss her," Y/n said, looking up at the night sky. Thranduil went to say something, but she held one finger up. "Let me finish. Sometimes I wish it were me who died, instead of her. She had you and Legolas to come home to, and I didn't really have anyone. Yes, I had family here, you and my nephew for example, but my sister was your wife and his mother, and the queen for crying out loud. Why am I saying this? I honestly have no clue. I suppose my point is... After the accident, I was overwhelmed in guilt and sadness. I didn't really focus on the fact that I was alive because of you. You and Legolas have taken care of me since day one and I can't remember if I've thanked you for that. So... Thank you. For helping heal my mind, and my body, even if their isn't much left of it. I am eternally grateful for you, brother."

Thranduil stared at her, and Y/n sniffled. At some point along the way she had started crying, and he felt like he was going to as well. He pulled his sister into his arms and held her tight as she cried, holding onto one of the last pieces of family he had left with an iron grip.

"You do not have to thank me, sister. You are family and you will be treated as such, even during hardships such as that one. If anything, I should thank you for being there for both Legolas and I while we were grieving, even if you weren't in the best state yourself."

Y/n giggled, much to Thranduil's delight. The sound had pulled a small smile onto his face and they both relished in the quiet for a moment.

Finally, Y/n pulled away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Alright, my King, help me up."

Thranduil laughed, a very merry sound, and helped her into her wheelchair. "As you wish, my Lady."

[your-enby-antihero]

Caleb and the two very hot purple people that are sitting at the next table over

Based on a tumblr post

Caleb works as a teacher at the Soltryce Academy. His life is fairly normal, not very notable at all, but when he meets two people at a bar he becomes an utter mess.

also available on ao3

—————————————————————

Chapter 1: Caleb Widogast Wants to be in a Purple People Sandwich

Caleb Widogast was just harmlessly sitting in the bar of Yasha and Beauregard Lionett. He had met Beau during university she worked with the Cobalt Soul during the day and ran a gay bar with her wife at night. Caleb had just finished lesson planning for his next classes, working at the Soltryce Academy was both a blessing and a pain. The teenagers he was teaching were bright minds but his fuzzy stain ridden cardigan and four shots of espresso because marking their transmutation homework was a bitch.

“Hey Caleb how’s it going,” Beau asked, her hands on the metal tin of a shaker.

“Good, tired… The Martinet has been up my ass about marking the finals for a class that isn’t even my own. I could use a distraction,” he sighed.

“Well good news for you bud Yash has some  friends who are moving to town, I think one is going to be here tonight.”

As Beau said that the door of the bar flung open with a streak of maroon and holographic panelling entered the bar with the sound of like ten jingling bells.

“YASHA! LOVE?! ARE YOU HERE!?”

The voice was bright and joyous, lilting with a pure and radiant sunlight energy. They brightened the room not just with the reflection of the leds from the reflective material on their coat. Caleb felt the warm energy wash over him. His face both brightened in this person’s mere presence but also blushed profusely as a lavender tiefling with the most dazzling eyes he had ever seen. Red like the deepest, most sparkling rubies. Caleb immediately turned to Beau trying to hide his blushing face from the room.

“Beauregard. Who. Is. That?”

Beau laughed, punching Caleb hard on the shoulder, “That’s Molly. Been friends with Yash since they were kids. Fucking asshole but good people.”

“I heard my name,” the voice sang, walking closer and swinging their legs over a seat next to Caleb at the bar.

“Hey obnoxious one,” Beau smiled.

“Unpleasant one, how have you been treating our angel?”

“Like a gods damned national treasure, what else Tealeaf?! Oh shit you should meet Caleb, this nerd here,” she said pointing to Caleb, “is like my brother. He works at Soltryce but trust me he’s nothing like the fucks there.”

“Well pleased to meet you Caleb, Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends and any friend of my quippy pseudo-sister in law is a friend of mine,” they smiled, fangs glinting in the orange bar light.

Caleb stammered out a response, “It is a pl-pleasure to meet you Mollymauk.”

——————

The next day Caleb woke up incredibly hungover but buzzing with a warm happy feeling in his chest.

Beau had decided to join them for drinks later in the evening, letting Marius work behind the bar, it wasn’t that busy anyway. He spent that night drinking and talking to Molly and listening to Beau curse out dickheads who were being gross to people at the bar and a few bar fights.

He learned that Molly was one of three siblings, the middle one of course was him. They used he/they pronouns and worked as a tarot card reader on the side of being a moderately successful artist. He used to work at a daycare in the town that they had moved from. He had met Yasha early in their childhood. It was a very pleasant conversation Caleb and Molly trading stories about the kids they had met.

——————

Caleb sat again at the bar, Beau pushed a bottle of cold beer across the table. He had a particularly hard day, the Marient had been hovering around his class and harassing students about his lessons that he had to go to Headmaster Margolin to literally kick the Martinet out of his general vicinity. He took a long swig of beer, this was probably his fifth drink of the night and he had not eaten at all and he had drunk some with Veth after classes so he was getting progressively hammered. He heard the door swing open accompanied by familiar jingles and chatter of multiple people.

Caleb sloughed into the bar, he was most certainly drunk. He looked passingly at Molly who was wearing the signature maroon coat but a black mesh shirt with moons and stars dappled across the sleeves and strangely striped shorts.

——————

“Beauregard, Beau how do I ask Mollymauk to let me spoil them,” Caleb was doing a weird half whisper towards Beau, his face was incredibly flush.

Beau gave her pseudo older brother a look as she saw Molly curled up in Essek’s lap, “You can ask if their poly but his current partner is kind of fucking intimidating.”

“Who is their partner,” Caleb asked, a brief wave of melancholy hitting his face.

Beau grabbed his face and directed it to the both in the back where Jester, Fjord, Essek, and Molly were sitting.

“The drow he is literally draped over, Essek is a research professor at the University he just got transferred to the dunamancy department.”

——————

Caleb’s eyes were filled with figurative stars looking at the two. Essek had snow white hair that flipped adorably in front of his violet eyes. He had a more plum colouration to his skin than Molly who was lavender. Essek’s gentle Rosohnain accent made Caleb blush profusely. Caleb could feel his heart skip a beat. All Caleb wanted more than anything in that moment was to be in a purple hot people sandwich.

[romanianwilkinson]

MONSTER CAMP QUOTES STARTERS

A collection of sentence starters from the game Monster Camp. Feel free to change words and pronouns as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Monster Prom/Monster Camp spoilers, suggestive, cursing, crude content

“ I just have it here because [NAME] insisted that I offer it, as a marketing stunt. ”

“ And lastly, super-horny-type players no longer get a charm buff against tsundere types! ”

“ War machines don’t turn me on or anything! ”

“ I don’t wanna be weird, but do you mind if I climb inside of you and play around with your main turret? ”

“ A wine to DIE for, you say? Well, darling, don’t threaten me with a good time! ”

“ This one just says ‘ hmu with that reaper dick, daddy ’. ”

“ You on your phone, as always! Probably making blogposts on your Tik Tok page. ”

“ Yeah, you really don’t want to witness a repeat of the last time [NAME]’s diehard fans went without a selfie for fifteen minutes. My tailbone still hasn’t completely healed. ”

“ Now hold still, this will only hurt for a moment --- ”

“ Yay! You found a shenanigan! ”

“ My poems all have two or three emotions in them, AT LEAST. ”

“ CRYING IS OBVIOUSLY A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN SQUEEZE THE MOST WATER OUT OF THEIR EYES! ”

“ No way, really? The way to WIN at poetry is by LOSING at life? ”

“ I dunno, maybe fall in love with someone who’s married and develop an opioid addiction? ”

“ HELL YEAH, SPEEDRUN! ”

“ It’s morbid, but... kind of romantic? ”

“ GASP! Google+? Are you kidding me? The psychopaths behind that global tragedy are here?! ”

“ Prison has changed me, [NAME]. Would you like to trade me some cigarettes in exchange for my fundamental dignity? ”

“ Undermining the laws of reality, subverting life and death, that’s the kind of stuff my followers expect. But CHEATING? No way. ”

“ Though we are imprisoned in chalk jail, we are free in our hearts. But our hearts are also imprisoned in chalk jail. ”

“ Um, no, I am NOT groveling. I am posing a dignified query to [NAME] that just so happens to be performed on my hands and knees. ”

“ I didn’t know you condoned playing the friend card to get free labor, [NAME]. ”

“ Ah, but saving the world doesn’t put avocado toast on the table. We indie seancers and necromancers need to pay our rent too, you know. ”

“ And as you know, I am illustriously Internet-famous, so if you could shower me with adoration and give me the pizza that would be fabulous. ”

“ Do you wanna fuck the pizza or not? ”

“ Are you ready to go swimming? I must admit, darling, I’ve always wondered what you would look like while... wet.”

“ Did you turn this date into an orgy without consulting me? ”

“ Gosh, I love it when you insult me! Please do it more! ”

“ Now who wants to make a baby? ”

“ What if she puts a curse on me that makes me magically forget the location of the clitoris?! ”

“ Hey, don’t knock wacky decisions that endanger us all! That’s how I always manage to stay a step ahead of my nemeses! ”

“ Oh gods, I’ve killed so many monsters, just for being monsters. This is making me question my entire moral foundation. I NEED MORE THERAPY. ”

“ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: fish give better pedicures than people! ”

“ You’re not tricking me into parenting a stupid egg. I’ve never fucked even ONE chicken! The egg is not my son! ”

“ You came to visit me at camp, Daddy! ”

“ Don’t be ridiculous, I know your brand of horny, [NAME], and this ain’t it. ”

“ I thought we both agreed to be nothing but vague and haughtily aloof about our past dalliances. ”

“ Point EAST, compass! EAAAAAAAAST! You dumb fuckboot!!!! POINT! EAST! ”

“ One time I was told a soul’s worst fear was bugs and I inadvertantly sent The Beatles. It happens to the best of us... And the worst of us. ”

“ SOMEDAY I SHALL DEFEAT YOUR FIVE STRANGE FEET! ”

“ Why do you keep suppressing your monster half? Embrace your true nature! ”

“ Wow. I didn't think this was possible, but I guess I was... wrong? About social media? Oh dear God, is this how grandparents feel?!?! Am I a GRANDPARENT?! ”

“ I don’t know! I was relying on my friends to cover up my bold and idiotic statement! ”

“ ... I ate the oars. ”

“ PSYCHE. The ocean can eat my ass. ”

“ So pucker up, [NAME]! I'm about to declare mouth war on your FACE! ”

“ YOU FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! You're showing our inexperience! YOUR HONOR, THE ENTIRE LEGAL TEAM PLEADS THE FIFTH! ”

“ That's right. I'm talking about a classic Transylvania Hot Tub, a Seth Brundle, and a REVERSE Reverse Romanian Wilkinson. ”

“ Sorry, I was in your ribcage seeing if I could use it to cut strips of crepe paper into confetti and then I got lost in your kidneys. ”

“ There's nothing sexier than a doomed romance between a dating sim player and a hot fictional character. ”

“ That's right! I secretly replaced one of you with a bear while no one was looking, to teach you a valuable lesson about the art of disguise! ”

“ Enchant my armor. I’m going into the lake. ”

“ For VIOLENCE REASONS! ” 

“ This stupid lake monster called me short the other day, but I was too low level to crush him like he deserved. ”

“ That dumb wet dinkhole won't know what hit him! But it will be me! I will hit him! ”

“ No, YOU'RE a fuckshark! Also, what does that even mean?! ”

“ You seriously didn't notice the enormous needles those interns jabbed into your veins as soon as [NAME] got here? “

“ It all makes sense! The Camp Dome is just an elaborate ploy to distract us from the giant mouth that eats campers! “

“ This is the BEST show I've ever seen in my life, which is now at an end! “

“ Am I high, or did he just tell us EXACTLY how to foil his evil scheme? “

“ What, like a few severed heads and visions of my grandpa screaming in horrendous pain are gonna freak me out? Where I'm from, you can buy that stuff at IKEA. “

“ ERROR: Due to the sixth mass extinction, the slaying of leprechauns is inadvisable. “

“ Then why do I have half-finished scarves, decoupage, pot-holders, friendship bracelets, and a taxidermied rabbit in my skeleton? “

“ The wang elemental. ”

“ I also have an uncle who works at Nintendo as a copy machine! “

“ What flavor of ice cream AM I?! Now I gotta know. HA! You know what I should be? 'Pistachio.' Because my outside is HARD, but I'm full of NUT. “

“ I mean, life is a bit like... this sandwich! No, stay with me, I'm going somewhere good with this. “

“ A survival situation without any sexy fun time isn't worth surviving in the first place. “

“ Rut the RUCK?! ”

“ The ' ambulance of the heart ' is just a regular ambulance! Ambulances treat all organs! ”

“ Yeah, that's why I made sure that my so-called ' emotional armor ' was also ' actual armor '. “

“ And being yourself is the key to living your dreams, which is the key to self actualization, which is the key to being really good at sex! “

“ So hot I'd buy that even without free shipping. 10/10, call me some time. “

“ Hi, quick question: does it count as kidnapping if I'm abducting you so you can help me do a thing you already agreed to help with? “

“ I could be wrong, but are you just upset because you DON'T have a skeleton that's inside your body? “

“ I'm gonna get SO FUCKING RELAXED MY HEAD WILL EXPLODE! “

“ Whoah, whoa, hold up. You're fucking my grandma? “

“ No, [NAME], that is a popcorn bag full of more dynamite. Put it down. “

“ I hear that at least 70% of people on Patreon aren't murderers! “

“ If you want cash, just rob banks like the rest of us! “

“ Did it work? Do you feel any less horny? ”

“ FUCK YEAH, LET'S PUNCH THAT MOUTH IN ITS MOUTH! “

“ Yes... incidentally, we are no longer allowed to enter Italy. “

“ Is anyone else turned on right now? ”

“ Yes! Yes! I know what you're feeling! I suddenly see how marrying a corpse isn't okay! “

“ JUST LET ME IMPROVE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, MORTAL! “

“ Look, choose whatever you want, but I'm not responsible for whatever you put in your mouth. ”

[a-n-conrad]

Painting (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[Summary: You decide to paint your friend, Steve Rogers, realizing that no one had ever painted him without his uniform. However, things start to get heated after you start to daydream during your painting session. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but with emotions), Not Canon Compliant (Because fuck you, Marvel.), Swearing, unprotected vaginal sex

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

You and Steve Rogers were widely considered to be an unlikely pair. There were a lot of things that you didn’t exactly agree on. Steve was a lot more social, being bold and outgoing. You were a bit quieter, preferring to avoid the company of a crowd. Steve was prone to waking up early to exercise. You stayed up into the quiet hours of the night, choosing instead to get a majority of your sleep in the morning. You weren’t exactly fond of Steve’s workout routines either, though you would join him on a short jog on occasion.

While you were technically considered an Avenger, you were really only brought out to fight for emergency circumstances. You had some incredibly powerful, incredibly volatile powers, but you really had no interest in using them unless it was completely needed. So you ended up making a few deals. You’d be treated like an Avenger, but you were basically benched unless some drastic, world-ending issue came up. So until then, you were kept on hold in Avengers Tower, spending most of your time painting in the studio that Tony had gotten set up for you.

Despite this power, and despite your title as an official Avenger, you were still a bit of an outsider among the team. You tended not to talk to them a lot, becoming a bit easily overwhelmed by the chaos that the team seemed to radiate. But surprisingly, you and Steve got along incredibly well.

You had originally bonded over your love of art. You loved Steve’s drawings. You admired the linework and shading in his drawings. He could do so much with just a pen, let alone if you gave him a few colors. He admired the amount of emotion you managed to instill into every single painting that you made. No matter what you painted, whether it was a portrait, a landscape, or something entirely different, it was always filled to the brim with the emotion that you had felt while painting it. It was like looking through a window into your soul. It was so honest and refreshing.

Eventually the two of you started to talk a bit more while you worked. It started pretty tame, just discussions of how your day was or general questions about each other like “What’s your favorite color”. But eventually you moved on to the harsher topics of your lives. Steve would talk about how exhausting it was to be the face of America, to be held on such a pedestal while also being expected to sacrifice everything at the drop of a hat. You talked about how cold and dehumanizing it felt to be seen by the American government as nothing more than a weapon, a walking nuclear bomb.

Your struggles overlapped at certain points. You both spent a lot of your time being used by the government. You were both seen as tools more than you were seen as people by a lot of the general public. You were a weapon and he was an idol, some sort of trophy. So you bonded a lot over your shared struggles as you talked to each other and worked on art side by side. And when the hard stuff got a bit too heavy, you’d sit and talk about art. About subjects that you just loved to add to all of your work. About what each shade of every color meant to you, about the emotions that you saw in every tiny color shift.

It was so nice, for both of you, to have something like that. The studio that you spent time in was so safe and peaceful for both of you, since the other Avengers tended to avoid it. And the two of you had started to see through each other’s masks enough to truly get to know each other. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone had known him as Steve Rogers more than they had known him as Captain America. He had Bucky, but Bucky was far too busy with his own issues for Steve to even consider burdening him with anything else. But with you he could truly be himself, even if that meant getting angry, sad, or frustrated.

So the two of you had become incredibly close, despite your differences. And every day that you had some free time without any big meeting or mission, you would be in the studio helping each other with art. It was a good way for you to relieve stress, just relaxing with each other. It was one of those days that you came to a realization.

- - - - -

“Has anyone ever painted you?” You asked suddenly one day as the two of you sat side by side in the art studio. He looked a bit surprised, and then he looked confused.

“Of course. There are murals of me up all over the place, (Y/n).”

“No, there are murals of Captain America,” you responded, shaking your head, “They don’t really look that much like you. You really only look like that when you’re working as Captain America. So has anyone ever painted you? As Steve Rogers?”

He looked surprised again. And you could tell as the emotions cycled through his face that he didn’t really know how to respond. You supposed it was a bit of an odd question. And you knew that it was a bit odd to think of someone and their superhero persona as two different people, but Steve couldn’t disagree. He wasn’t Captain America all the time, and he loved that you understood that, “I suppose I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess not.”

You hummed a bit, “That’s a shame. It feels like a waste that everyone paints a costume. You should let me paint you sometime.”

You said it in a way that he wasn’t sure if you were serious. Your face was entirely serious when you said it, but you said it so casually, not even really looking at him, “Really?”

You finally looked up at him, noticing the pure confusion on his face, “Of course. I mean, you’d have to sit still for a while, but honestly, you could probably just sit and sketch for a while. You just seem too good of a subject to not be painted without the costume.”

Steve wasn’t really one to blush, but it was quite the compliment coming from you. He had women trying to hit on him all the time now, being Captain America, but that never really felt heartfelt. It had been a fairly long time since he had actually felt a real connection with someone. But to hear you compliment him, thinking of him as Steve Rogers instead of Captain America, made his heart flutter a bit. And the fact that he knew that you were rather picky about the subject you painted only made it more effective.

“I, uh, think that’d be cool,” He responded as soon as he was sure that he could trust his voice not to crack, though he couldn’t hide the slight stutter. It was honestly endearing how much his personality changed when he wasn’t working. While he was still headstrong and stubborn, he was a bit less confident. He knew he could win a fight. He knew that he looked good on television. But he didn’t really know how to interact with people in the new modern age. He was lucky to have the friends that he did. At least, that’s how he felt about it.

“Wonderful,” You hummed, starting to put away all of your supplies, “Why don’t we pack it up for the day and I can start painting you tomorrow if we aren’t too busy?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

- - - - -

The next day was surprisingly slow. You had to say that you were thankful. You had been looking forward to getting to paint Steve, even though you knew it was making him a little nervous. You were honestly excited to have a new project, and part of you was excited for the opportunity to stare at Steve for a bit without it being considered weird. He was easy to admire, both physically and on a personal level, so you found yourself staring more often than you’d like to admit. You were pretty sure that you had been lucky enough to avoid being caught though.

He was physically gorgeous. Obviously. But something about the way that he looked when he was drawing was nearly angelic. The way he furrowed his brows just a little and turned his paper at odd angles to make sure that the proportions of his sketches were right was adorable. The look in his eyes when his work started to come together made your heart melt. When he got a bit frustrated and would run a hand through his hair you could feel your heart skip a beat. You felt a bit dumb to be drooling over your friend, but you had to admit you were falling pretty hard for him. So you’d use this painting as an excuse to admire him without any questions.

He was already blushing a bit when he came into the studio, and you had a feeling that part of it was from Tony teasing him. He had a habit of giving the two of you a bit of a hard time about how much time you spent together. But the blush was still adorable. Something about Steve when he was nervous stole your heart. He was surprisingly soft when he had the space to be.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” He asked as he strode over to your work station that you had already gotten set up.

“Just pull a chair up in front of me. You can get comfortable, start sketching, and I’ll get a base outline and block out as much as I can. Just let me know if you need a break and try not to change your pose too much. At least until I can get all of the base shapes right,” You instructed, trying to keep your voice even. You were surprised at how well you managed to hide the fact that you were completely lovesick.

“Alright, sounds good,” He responded, pulling up a chair and getting himself situated. He crossed one of his legs over the other, resting his ankle on his other thigh to give himself a place to set his sketchbook. You tossed him his pencil once he got himself settled, and then you got to work.

You had to admit you had started to get a bit frustrated with how easily you managed to get distracted by him while you were trying to paint. You had hoped that maybe painting him would help. You had no reason to get distracted from your painting when you were painting him. At least, that’s what you had thought before you started sketching out the form.

You felt yourself losing focus as your brush moved smoothly, the incredibly thin, light paint building a form that you found yourself wanting to know a bit more intimately. You tried your best to stay focused on the canvas in front of you, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting. You imagined what his body looked like under his clothes as you blocked out the lights and shadows of the fabric that rested over his abs. And the vivid image in your brain, the detailed picture of his body that you had conjured up in front of you, followed your brush as you worked.

The brush slid smoothly across the canvas, outlining his muscles, almost all of which showed through his thin t-shirt. Your brain almost instantly conjured up a matching image, the fantasy becoming more and more dynamic as you went on. It shifted from regular images of what his abs looked like when he was shirtless to more detailed images. Thoughts of his biceps flexing a bit as he held himself over you, his arms covered in sweat. Thoughts of his hands sliding across your skin. It only got worse as you moved down, eventually reaching the point between his legs.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?” Steve’s voice finally broke you from your thoughts, his eyes which had been focused intently on his drawing when you had last looked were now trained on your face, scanning for any sign as to what was causing you to space out, “You don’t normally get distracted when you’re painting, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” You tried your best to pull yourself back to reality, though the fantasies seemed to be burned into your brain, “Yeah, sorry. I was, uh, spacing out a bit.”

“Do you want to take a break for a bit? Maybe we should get up and stretch,” He suggested. You nodded in response, hoping it would help you refocus on your painting.

It didn’t help much, though, as Steve stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted up just enough to show some skin, and his pants were riding fairly low. Your eyes almost involuntarily moved to look at him, landing right about the button to the jeans that he was wearing. The muscles in his hips and stomach formed an almost perfect V shape leading into his pants.

“(Y/N)?” You had been caught staring. You tried your best to look casual, relaxing your posture. Your mistake was to try to lean on the table, setting your hand directing on your palette, which was covered in paints.

You froze, and Steve’s eyes landed on your hand, the red and blue paint gushing out from the sides. You felt like an awkward teenager, doing stupid ridiculous shit in front of your crush. You watched intently for a reaction from Steve, not really knowing what to do and hoping that the way that he reacted would give you something easy to respond to.

He raised one of his eyebrows at you, a look of confusion, with a small hint of amusement under the surface painted across his face, “You seem to have set your hand in your paint.”

“Uh, yes, it would seem so,” You responded awkwardly, finally lifting your hand out of the paint. You still really weren’t sure what to say, and not knowing where to put your hand so that you wouldn’t smear any paint anywhere wasn’t really making you feel any better. You cleared your throat a bit, trying to think of something smart to say, something that wouldn’t signal exactly how far gone you were into your fantasies, but instead you just signaled to Steve how flustered you were.

You knew that Steve had never been the biggest ladies’ man. From what he had told you, he was actually pretty awkward growing up, but the confidence that washed over him as he finally figured out what was getting you so flustered was visible. He walked closer to you, standing close enough to emphasize how tall he was, “Got something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh, uh,” You stuttered, not sure what to say. You could tell that he knew from the smirk on his face, but you could feel your face heating up as you thought about explaining your fantasizing to Steve. He smirked even more as you got visibly flustered.

“It’s okay, honey, I don’t mind if you stare a little,” He said, standing a bit closer, his hand moving to hold your chin. You swallowed deeply as his fingers brushed against your skin softly. Your eyes locked with his as his hand tilted your chin up just a little.

As much as he was keeping up his confident, masculine persona, you could see the complete warmth in his eyes. He softened completely when you looked at him, pure admiration in your eyes. He had to admit it warmed his heart to see you looking at him like that, like he was your whole world. And maybe it was because he felt the same way. He had been falling in love with you slowly, and as he looked at you, he wanted to find every way possible to express it.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his voice soft.

“Please.”

His lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, but you didn’t think about it too much as his lips moved against your own. It was soft at first, but it began to escalate quickly, getting rough and more passionate. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body into his own, and your hands moved to his face, too focused on the kiss to notice the fact that you were smearing paint across his cheek.

He pulled back, allowing you to get a breath of air. That was when you noticed the red and blue streaks across his cheek, “Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about,” He brushed it off, before pulling you into another kiss. He truly didn’t seem to care at all about the paint, choosing instead to focus on you.

This kiss started off much more passionate, building even further. Before long he pulled away again, pulling a groan from your mouth as you instinctively wanted more. Your complaints were silenced, though, as he began to kiss down your neck, nipping slighting at a few select spots, leaving marks for you to see later.

“If you want me to stop, just say it,” He said, as his hands started to move towards the hem of your shirt. He was moving slowly, giving you the chance to stop him at any point. You didn’t.

Before long, your clothes were entirely discarded, scattered haphazardly across the floor. Steve’s followed shortly. Neither of you could keep your hands to yourself, feeling the curves of each other's bodies as you continued to kiss. Both of you were desperate, the tension that neither of you even realized had been building finally crashing to the ground around you, any sort of restraint being thrown out the window.

However, you had to take a few moments to admire his body. You knew that it was perfect, he was a super soldier, of course it’s perfect, but you didn’t really know how perfect until it was right in front of you. There was no way you could’ve imagined it in a way that did it true justice. The warmth under his skin, the pace of his breathing, the firm feeling of his grip on your waist. Those were things that you could never have imagined fully.

He lifted you up without any issue, placing his hands under your thighs, carrying you to the work table and setting you on a clear section of the table without breaking the kiss. His hands slid across the tops of your thighs before grabbing your hips. Yours moved from his cheeks to rest on his bare chest, smearing a bit more paint across his scalped chest. You could feel his erection brush against your leg as he leaned over you, the two of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

You were breathing heavily, your brain clouded with need, both new and left over from your earlier fantasies. Fantasies that were coming true, “Please, Steve.”

“What is it, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, looking down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire, “What do you want?”

You began to grind against his thigh without really thinking about it. He had to admit that something about you needing him this much turned him on, but he wanted to wait until you said it before he did anything, “Please fuck me.”

He would’ve liked to have a bit more foreplay, but both of you were so needy, having built up to this for so long with so little release until now. So he complied with your request. He pulled you quickly to the edge of the table. You were forced to lay your upper body down completely so that he could pull your hips to hang over the edge a bit. He took a few moments to rub himself against the entrance to your pussy, coating the head of his cock with liquid that was practically dripping from your pussy. Finally, he pushed himself into you slowly, making sure to monitor your reaction for any sort of discomfort. You were indulging in the feeling of him slowly stretching you out, completely enjoying the feeling of having him as close to you as possible.

He started moving after he was sure that you were comfortable, his hands beginning to wander your body, squeezing at your hips and breasts, basically any part of you that had a bit of squish, something for him to grab. His mouth latched on to the base of your neck, leaving a deep, dark hickey. You could feel every movement of his hips, his cock brushing against your internal walls again with each thrust.

You couldn’t hold back your moans as he found the perfect spot to hit, one of his hands gripping one of your hips tightly to hold you in place as his thrusts gained momentum. He started picking up speed a bit, taking care to continue to hit the spot that made you moan the loudest. His other hand slid down further, his fingers making their way between your folds. He was surprisingly quick to find your clit, not that you were complaining. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head as he started to rub small circles over it, keeping pace with his thrusts.

You were practically putty in his hands, falling apart as he found every way to make you moan. Touch, squeezing, kissing, and biting exactly where you needed him to. You had no idea how he knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t really care as a knot began to build in the pit of your stomach.

You practically screamed his name as the knot finally snapped, Steve continuing his motions, continuing to rub your clit, as you rode out your climax, your whole body feeling as though fireworks were shooting through your veins. Your walls tightened with the waves of your orgasms, the fluttering feeling clear to Steve as he continued to bury himself inside of you. Soon after your climax finished, you could feel his thrust begin to get a bit sloppy, focus clear on his face as he tried his best to hold on longer.

He couldn’t hold on that long, though, soon giving in to the building pleasure. He came hard, his hips snapping into your own and his head being buried in your neck to hide his curses as he came completely undone. You could feel the thick hot ropes of his cum coating your insides as he finished. You both stayed like that for a few moments in order to catch your breath.

As you started to come back to reality, you finally noticed the mess you had made. Steve’s hair was a mess, blue paint sticking some of the tips together. You couldn’t even remember when you had grabbed his hair, but the paint smears left a clear map of where your hand had wandered. The blue and red stripes across his face and chest were clear, too. In fact, you had gotten paint all over his sculpted body, the blue smears outlining his muscles.

“We should probably clean up and get back to work, huh?” He eventually sighed, his eyes never leaving your body.

“I suppose.”

(A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to send me a tip for my writing feel free to tip me over venmo! My venmo is Al3x13l. Tips aren't required, but as a broke college student, they are appreciated.)

[pastelslytherin]

hi hi can i request a matchup for attack on titan and jujutsu kaisen please.

i’m 18 i use she/they pronouns and i’m bi. i’m 5’2 i have curly brown hair with tinted highlights and hazel eyes. 

i’m an infp. im pretty soft spoken tho depending on who im around i can be louder than usual. im kind, creative, patient, loyal, snort, and easy going. i try to be nice to everyone and not judge them based on meeting them once. my friends say im a ray of sunshine and that im the mom friend of the group. i can also tend to be indecisive.

i like photography, hanging out with friends, going on walks when it’s nice out, listen to music, reading, watching anime, shopping, and baking. i like wearing oversized sweaters and hoodies. i like boba and different kinds of sweets. i don’t like confrontation and i try to avoid it when i can. i’m currently a college student and i’m thinking about studying sociology.

my love languages are quality time (giving) and physical affection (receiving). thank you so much!!

Hello em, thank you for your wonderful request! I’m so sorry for the wait! I hope you’re having a lovely day :)

This match also includes Jujutsu Kaisen manga panels but with no particular manga spoilers.

I match you with..

ATTACK ON TITAN

COLT GRICE

Colt would be so attracted to you. He would be very gentle, sweet, and shy when it comes to romance. You both have a rather soft personality and appearance, so you would make an extremely cute couple. Your hair color and eye color could be harmonious with Colt’s blond hair and golden eyes. You both also have mom energy, so sometimes, you almost act like parents to your friend group. 

Colt would be drawn to you by your voice and your kindness. It’s very different from what he’s accustomed to for his usual life, so he values those qualities greatly. In a way, you remind him of his younger brother since he’s also a kind soul. Overall, your relationship is very nurturing, caring, and soft.

Headcanons:

Colt can be a bit protective of you since you’re much smaller than him and because you’re kind and soft like his brother. This means that he would always be there for you through all your ups and downs. He’s supportive of you, and he makes sure that you’re taking care of yourself because mom friends definitely should be cared for too. You’re his ray of sunshine, and he would be devastated if anything were to happen to you. 

He does things like have you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, lend you his jacket, and open doors for you. Whenever you’re out shopping, he always carries your bags for you. You’ve probably insisted that you could carry your things by yourself, but he loves doing things for you. 

You’ve probably taken his jackets and sweaters more than once, but he honestly loves it. He gets so flustered and his heart soars when he sees you wearing his clothes. He thinks it’s incredibly adorable since his clothes are so big on you. 

He’s also pretty tall, so if the sun is shining in your eyes, he’ll block the sun for you with his tall body. It’s common for him to do it whenever you’re out walking to enjoy the weather. He does the same thing when you’re also out shopping. 

Some of his favorite dates with you are more domestic and peaceful, like baking or cooking together. It’s his fantasy to settle down with you. Music would play quietly in the background while he whips together some whipped cream and you sift some flour or powdered sugar. Be wary if there’s alcohol nearby because the man would actually try to add any alcohol to your baked treats. 

Colt can be really shy about physical affection, even though he wants to do things like hold your hand or give you a hug or much more. He’s thankful that you’re patient with him since he starts off so awkwardly. “Is this okay?” He asks as he starts to wrap his hand around yours. The skin is clammy. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” He pulls his hand away to wipe the sweat off his pants. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and he loves the feeling of having you between his arms. 

Other potential match:

Pieck Finger

She’s rather soft and motherly like you but with a more relaxed and playful energy. She likes hugging you, hugging your arm, really anything that lets her stick by your side. She wants to be near you, and she would shower your face in kisses. Since she doesn’t have a lot of time left, and she usually has to be in Titan form for a longer time than most, she very much treasures the time you spend with her. Every moment with Pieck feels special and valued.

———

JUJUTSU KAISEN

SHOKO IEIRI

Your positivity balances out the stress in Shoko’s life, while Shoko’s gentle demeanor matches your own. She’s very easy-going, and she likes that you’re the same way since her only other classmates are either too serious or too arrogant. You would bring a sense of stability and normalcy to her life, and it helps her cope with the stress of her job in a healthier way. 

She likes that she can relax around you because of your nonjudgmental and caring attitude, and she values your kindness. She sees your kindness as something to be protected so it motivates her to do better, even to the point of trying to quit smoking. She’s both your best friend and your girlfriend. Overall, your relationship is very gentle, calming, and steady. 

Headcanons:

One of your frequent dates with Shoko are shopping dates. Since you both have similar sizes, it’s pretty easy to shop together and share clothes. Oversized hoodies are both of your aesthetics. Sometimes, she brings along Satoru and Suguru to carry your things for you. She just wants your hands to be free so she can hold them or link arms with you. 

You have a ton of pictures of you and her together, enough to make several collages. Shoko always has a few of your pictures hanging up on her walls. They’re her favorite mementos, and they makes her work desk feel more welcoming. 

Your creative side helps her make the things in her life more unique and prettier. Things like her living space and workspace tend to be very minimal or reeking of vodka and cigarettes. She made an effort to fix things up when she started having feelings for you, and you help her decorate her things. 

She’s a great partner to have for study dates, and she’s very patient and understanding when she helps you prepare for tests. On particularly late study nights, you usually end your study sessions with cuddling and falling asleep with Shoko. You both need the sleep anyway.

The two of you together are very good at avoiding conflict and are easily able to keep peace between yourselves and others. Like you, Shoko tends to avoid confrontation and usually lets others deal with it. She also makes others, usually Satoru, to deal with your confrontations too. 

One of the more frequent, albeit petty, arguments you’d have are about tastes in food. You have an affinity for sweets and baked goods, while Shoko has a more bitter taste. When you offer her something you baked, she bluntly tells you that she doesn’t like sweets. But the first time she finally ate something you baked, it was an emotional moment for you because she wanted to show you how much she values you and your interests. In exchange though, she wanted you to taste her favorite cocktail. 

Other potential match:

Noritoshi Kamo

Noritoshi could have a rough demeanor at first glance, but you don’t judge him as the heir for the Kamo clan like he’s used to. He’s attracted to how you treat him with care and how you see him for him and not for his position in the jujutsu world. Your kindness and easy-going nature contrasts his sharp edges and reminds him of who his mother wanted him to be.

———

I hope this was alright!

Please look over this post before submitting a matchup request :) Thanks!

[fu-aki]

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize the newest episodes of the ghost marriage event (episode 1 to 13) of twisted wonderland. Part 2

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar in advance.

The event started with Epel, Ace, Riddle, and Rook’s marriage proposal

In your dorm -> suddenly a lot of ghosts showed up and said this would be the guest room for the princess -> you got kicked out by them -> you went and ask Crowley what is going on -> Crowley explained -> that was the ghost bride, her dream was to find a wonderful prince to marry, but she died before able to fulfill the dream, so now she wonders around twisted wonderland to find her groom, but that would be impossible -> Crowley “since her perfect prince needs to be over 180cm (5ft9) tall, a slim body without any unnecessary fat, clean and beautiful skin, charming smile, shinnying hair, and lips that make you want to kiss them.” -> Crowley “so there’s no way that anyone could fit that description, they just stay in ramshackle for a few days then leave.” -> suddenly Ortho showed up and said his brother is taken away by the ghosts -> Ortho showed you a footage from the security camera

Idia was on his way to buy manga -> the ghost princess showed up and said “I’ve finally found him… my prince!!!” -> the video cuts out -> Grim was surprised since Idia doesn’t feel like a prince at all -> Crowley “tall, slim, pale skin, and a smile… that can’t really be called charming, shinning… more like burning hairs, and his colored lips. If you think of it, he does fit the ghost’s type.” -> there was suddenly a lot of noises outside -> Ace and Deuce was there -> a bunch of ghosts showed up in cafeteria -> you all retreated to the sports field -> Riddle, Azul, and Kalim were also there -> they were studying but the ghost suddenly showed up -> Azul “Kalim, the correct term would be we were ‘teaching’ you right?” -> Riddle “just a little more and Kalim could finally understand the question…!” -> Vil, Rook, and Epel were in the classroom and the ghosts showed up and kicked them out -> Cater was also kicked out of lab room -> Leona was kicked out from hallway -> Ortho explained what happened to all of them -> everyone laughed -> Crowley “It’s no time to laugh! Do you know what it means to be married to a ghost? It means to be together forever with the dead. You will have your soul pulled out and goes to the other world!” -> Ortho “my… my big brother is going to be a ghost? I don’t want that to happen! Please, help my brother!” -> Crowley “of course, I’m sure when their friend is in trouble, all the gentle students here will help Shroud…”

 -> everyone “nope/don’t wanna.” -> (player choice: “what a wonderful harmony” / “you guys only get along with each other in a time like this.”) -> Ortho “why? Everyone lends me your strength!” -> Vil “He normally avoids us as much as possible, and only bother us in a time like this. It’s a little too much.” -> Leona “it’s your own ‘brother’ problem right, just do something yourself.” -> Ortho decided to just do it himself -> he started computer simulation and decided to just use a magic beam to destroy the whole school -> Crowley stopped Ortho and explained to everyone that mass media will soon be on their ass if Shroud disappeared -> Ortho also threatened that if nobody helped, he is going to hack the TV station to remove the mosaic on news and put on “the student that abandoned their friend” instead -> finally everyone agreed to help -> Lilia suggest to ask Sam boy since he knows a lot about the ghost -> Sam said he heard about this from his friends on the other side -> Ortho “is there any item that we can use to solve this…” -> “IN STOCK NOW” -> the ring of extinction -> it can force the ghost to the other world if you put it on her left ring finger while saying “I swear to love you for as long as you are alive.” -> Lilia “so basically, I don’t care if you are dead.” -> but how can we put it on her? -> the only way to do it is to propose her -> Crowley told you to gather all the students he called -> it was Trey, Jack, Jade, Floyd, Leona, Vil, and Sebek -> the plan is to make them propose to the ghost princess -> Riddle “wait a second, I can’t just watch my vice dorm leader do this, I will go too.” -> Crowley “you can’t.” -> Riddle “eh?” ->Crowley “there’s a common trait between all 7 of them, which is... over 180cm in height!!!!!!” -> Riddle “are you saying… that I’m short….!?” ->  Floyd “it’s fine, goldfish is fine as you are now… wait? Where’s little goldfish? Is he gone?” -> Riddle “ha? What do you mean, floy…” -> Floyd “…ah, there you are, you are so tiny that I couldn’t see you down there.”

Vil “why isn’t Malleus here? Isn’t he pretty tall?” -> Lilia “Malleus is a real prince, if he proposes there is a high chance to success, but even if it’s fake, there’s no way a future king of thorn valley will propose to a ghost, just the fact that he proposed would cause a national problem, so just let it slide and let Sebek do it instead.” -> Leona “hum, saying something so grand, we still don’t know if Malleus would be picked or not.” -> Sebek “Malleus sama is a very handsome man, of course, he will be chosen as the groom! You guys won’t even stand a chance!!!!!!!”  -> Vil and Leona are pretty mad after hearing that and are now determined to do this.

In cafeteria -> Idia is trying his best to scream for help and refuse to marry the princess -> but she won’t listen -> a ghost said 7 people are here to propose to her -> but she said she will refuse them all so Idia can just rest assure here -> Vil started to use his actor skill to act like a prince (change his pronoun from atashi to boku and his way of talking) -> Jack “Vil senpai… can you just lie to someone like that? I think love is supposed to be… more serious. I just, don’t like this con man act…!” -> Vil “too naïve, Jack kun.” -> Jack “Jack ‘kun’!?” -> Vil “this is a competition, to see who can charm the princess first.” -> Leona “disgusting, this is even worse than your normal self.” -> Vil “Leona kun… are you scared that you’ll lose to me?” -> Leona “… hey ghost! Bring the princess out!”

Everyone was brought to the princess -> princess complimented Idia and said how he is her perfect prince ->

Leona and Vil “I’m definitely better!” -> Jade “those two, completely forgot their goals.” -> princess decided to try and see if they will be her perfect prince -> princess “let’s start with you, the one with a wild style but a cute ear.” -> Leona “Me?” -> she suddenly started singing -> Leona got really confused

-> she slapped Leona -> princess “I can’t believe it…… To not sing a duet along with the princess!!!! You are not a prince at all!” -> Jack “Leona senpai… he was the only real prince among us though…” -> next is Vil, he passed the singing part perfectly, but then princess asked what is the name of his pet dog -> he doesn’t have one -> Vil got slapped too

next one up is Jack -> she asked if he knows sword art and how big of a monster have he slain -> Jack “sword? I don’t need something like that, I will use my fist…” -> SLAP

-> Sebek is next -> she asked if he knows how to play instruments -> Sebek started talking about Malleus nonstop -> SLAP

-> Trey is next -> She suddenly said “we can’t meet ever again, farewell!” and runs away -> Trey is confused but decided to chase after her -> She “ah, even though I told you we can’t ever meet again! Please, do not confuse me even more” -> Trey “ok it seems like the right choice to chase after her, but what should I do next…” -> Jade “Trey san, you should sing here!” -> Trey “sing!? Now!?” -> Jade “Yes, to create a romantic mood, you have to sing a wonderful song to make her heart melt.” -> Trey “I’m not really good at singing though…! umm…” -> Trey singing “emm, you… your… your veil…. Looks just like a bleached towel… eyes, also, looks like grapes… so juicy~~” -> her “…” -> Trey “…” -> SLAP

-> Jade “your comparison are a little too peasant, at least say something like your eyes are just like gem stones.” -> Trey “I’m just a high school student? I can’t come up anything like that in this situation!” -> Floyd next -> Floyd “this person just so annoying~~ can I squeeze her?” -> SLAP

-> Jade’s turn -> He offered her flowers -> Jade “I picked out those flowers myself, I thought you would look great with them.” -> Floyd pointed out those are flowers with strong poison -> Jade “yes, if you just touch them with your barehand, your hand would broke, but it seems like it don’t work with ghosts. I’ve learned.” -> SLAP ->

Trey “…hey, I just noticed something, to suddenly make someone lived in an all boy boarding school to propose to a princess… isn’t the difficulty a little too high?”

Everyone outside was laughing hard -> Azul, Cater, Deuce, and Lilia decided to help next -> SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP -> Azul talked too much which makes him unbelievable -> Cater treated everything too lightly -> Deuce got too nervous that he couldn’t talk -> Lilia -> Lilia was too cute that she doesn’t want him -> she complained that why is there no good man left in this world and brought Idia out -> Idia “none of you even had any use at all… everyone was slapped and rolling around like an insect… aren’t you supposed to be popular! You always hype around like an idiot, aren’t you embarrassed by this!?” -> everyone is pretty mad after hearing Idia say that -> but the princess was pretty happy so she decided to make the wedding tonight, midnight. -> Idia screamed for help -> Vil “Isn’t this great, someone picked introverted you as their partner.” -> Leona “yeah, now that I think of it you two are really fitting as a couple.” -> Idia “why--!?” -> Jack “of course, we will get mad after hearing what you said.” -> Idia “Azul!! We are friends of the board game club right?” -> Azul “to think that the hikikomori Idia would get married… I’m so touched I think I’m about to cry… congratulation. I will send you some wedding gift.”

Outside -> Ace was still laughing at what happened -> Crowley “it seems like the only thing we can do now is to find back up grooms!”

That was all for now, man this event is hilarious, especially the part where everyone got slapped, so sad that I couldn’t fit in everyone’s slapped face in here

[mars-writes-1999]

Penumbra Podcast fan Theory

I have a theory about how this season is going to end and where the Junoverse is headed. None of this is certain, it’s all just theory. This isn’t about Nureyev’s debts though, I have genuinely no idea what’s going on with that boi but he worries me lots. I love him, and can’t figure him out. This is about the other class X radical. 

SPOILERS FOR JUNO STEEL AND WHAT LIES BEYOND PART 2

tl;dr  Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal. The Ruby 7 is a sentient ai. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical.

1. Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7.

There was a line from Jet that stuck out to me right away in What Lies Beyond part 2. At the very beginning of his interrogation jet says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want." He also later says "There is nothing on this ship that they want. That is final". I do put more stock in the first than the second quote because by the second one he is playing along with Juno's plan and intentionally being angry. I have looked through the scripts and I don't think we're ever told where Jet is being held (lmk if I'm wrong) but for my theory to work he is somewhere with a window and/or he saw things before being put in a "cell" at all.

Jet is a straightforward guy and went into that interrogation with a plan. He had time to think about what he wanted to say to Juno and what he said was "I do not think. I know." I take this to mean she really does know. He knows that Ransom, who dark matters is looking for, is not on the ship. He knows that the Ruby 7, who he believes dark matters is looking for (I'll get to this later), is not on the ship. 

While my Ruby 7 theory is a bit more of a long shot, I REALLY think Jet saw Ransom escape. He says in no uncertain terms that he KNOWS that there isn’t anything that Dark Matters is looking for. Even if we make an assumption that Jet thinks they’re only looking for one 

2. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal

So I’ve thought this might be true since my second listen through the episode. It was a bit of a wild guess at first, but the more I think about it the more I buckle down on it. It lines up in a lot of ways where nothing else I can think of does. This whole argument does assume that Sasha and Dark Matters didn’t just fabricate the distress signal, but given her distaste for agent G (god rest her soul), I think the signal was real. 

When trying to decide who could have sent the signal we can immediately rule out literally every person in the carte blanche family. Buddy and Juno do a good job of explaining to us why each one of them couldn’t be it. 

Buddy was dying (plus we have the added bonus of her monologue and knowing what she was doing)

Juno, Vespa, and Ransom were in sight of each other and in the way of EMP waves

Rita’s comms were knocked out by the EMP waves

Jet was fixing the Ruby 7 and was right next to the EMP waves. He was also pretty busy trying to keep buddy from allowing herself to be killed

All of these things considered, we can also just assume that no one on this ship would rat them out. The only possible defection is Ransom, but despite not knowing what his motives are, I don’t think he ratted them out to Dark Matters. 

The only thing with the sentience to call out would be the Ruby (I’ll provide evidence for its sentience in a moment). I don’t know why it would reach out to Dark Matters specifically, but maybe it was just reaching out to anyone with a distress call. I don’t know how space distress calls work, but Sasha did need to specify that the call didn’t come from the Carte Blanche which means vehicles may have the power to send out a distress call. 

We know from Sasha and Juno’s conversation that the distress call was sent out 4 times in 2 hours. In the episode we see 3 major EMP blasts: The one between episodes, the one when Vespa and Ransom start arguing and Buddy can’t communicate, and the one Buddy barely avoids by getting into the safe room. It isn’t unreasonable to presume there was a 4th EMP wave that occurred after Buddy was safe and sound but before the entire team made it back safely. 4 distress signals for 4 emp waves. If the Ruby 7 is the one sending these, then this math makes sense.

In The Heart of it all Part 2 Jet says to Buddy “Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment - though it is still bitter about its engines.” This means the Ruby may have been scared about its engines dying and therefore it sent out a distress signal. 

None of this is provable at this point, but I also haven’t found any evidence to the contrary. If nothing following this is true, I still think this may be true. 

3. The Ruby 7 is a sentient AI

It is at this point that I would like to acknowledge that I am using it/its as pronouns for the Ruby 7. This is how the car has been referred to in the show up until this point and so it is how I will be referring to it from here on out. If any of this pans out and the Ruby 7 uses different pronouns or signifiers in future episodes I will refer to it differently. 

Before I give the reasons I think the Ruby 7 itself is sentient, I want to talk about why I think it’s plausible that Kevin and Sophie would take the story in this direction. The reason is pretty simple, they’ve told us they’d be willing to. Here is a clip of Kevin and Sophie in the Season 1 Q&A. 

 [audio file]

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cOXj3ybVkszLdt8U8BiRrVW3Cy7O_oGl/view?usp=sharing

[google doc transcript of audio file]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/16EP7CP6Wxic3q7-QhPce1dinan5A0ACNDdxZ4DfaEtA/edit?usp=sharing 

So not only does this clip make it clear that Kevin has wanted robots in some form from the start, it shows that Sophie is open to the idea. We also hear them talk about how big of a deal it would be to introduce elements like this into the story. I would consider all of this setup as treating the concept of AI with the respect and time it deserves. We also know how much Kevin loves the Ruby 7 so making the car a main character would absolutely be within the realm of possibilities. The Ruby 7 is arguably the 7th member of their crew with or without sentience. 

Now to discuss the proof of the sentience of the Ruby 7. There’s a lot of evidence for this. The car has always been sassy and had a personality, but there are several moments that point to more than this. 

In the very beginning of part 1 of Tools of Rust, we see Jet directly mull over the sentience of the Ruby 7. 

The Ruby 7’s many background calculations make it more like a horse. It can be controlled, but only insofar as it wants to be controlled. (HE SHAKES HIS HEAD AND SNORTS, DISMISSING HIMSELF) “Wants to.” This car can make you believe in ghosts, too — a spirit in the machine. But the Ruby 7, whatever the force of its calculations, cannot want and cannot think; it can only behave like it does. ~from Tools of Rust Script released to 10$ Patreon supporters

This gives some of the base backgrounds into how Jet thinks about the car he is closest to. In this episode he refers to the ruby as “a wild horse, I must break it in.” The catalyst for this episode occurs while Jet is breaking down the tractor shield generator because when driving the Ruby 7 “Manuevers have not responded as they should.” There are of course reasons for these things that are not sentience. Jet himself does not think the car is sentient at the beginning of this episode. We also know that his view of the car is changing throughout his arc of this season. In its most recent appearance, we see the Ruby at its most sentient. Two distinct moments come to mind in regards to this. 

First, in part one as they are discussing their plan after Rita deploys the Book: 

JET:  We will be on our own — even the Ruby 7 will temporarily shut down. RUBY 7: (PETTY/ANNOYED BEEPS) BUDDY: … Come again? JET: The Ruby insists that it will not shut down. It is incorrect. RUBY 7: (REALLY ANNOYED BEEPS) JET: The Ruby says that I should not tell it what it can and cannot do. VESPA: Really built some sass into that thing, huh? NUREYEV: Is it just me, or… have responses like this become more common from our mysterious vehicle? VESPA: I swear its voice changed, too. BUDDY: Then we’ll allow the car its moody teenage years, I think; after all this is over I’ll buy it an industrial supply of eyeliner and posters of sad young men. ~ From The Heart of it All part 1 script released to 10$ Patreon supporters

Here several characters are remarking upon the increasing sentience of the Ruby 7. In part 2 of this episode, we see further evidence that the crew, especially Jet, has noticed changes in the Ruby which make it seem more and more sentient. 

BUDDY: Singing and theoretical mathematics? Is there anything that car can't do? JET: Increasingly I worry that there is not. Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment — though it is still bitter about its engines. (HE ACTUALLY IS WORRIED ABOUT WHAT THE HELL THE RUBY 7 IS, BUT NOW ISN’T THE TIME FOR THAT) But in this moment I am far more worried by.... ~ From Heart of it All part 2 script for 10$ Patreon Supporters

Here it is clear that not only does Jet sound concerned about the Ruby 7, but Kevin’s direction shows that Jet is genuinely unsure of the Ruby. Not just that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is doing, but that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is. 

Now that I’ve shown all of the evidence I have I’m going to extrapolate some of this to draw a line from this evidence to my theory in part 1. 

Jet knows something is up with the Ruby 7. He has seen Nureyev leave the carte blanche in the Ruby 7 and therefore knows the car is not on the ship. As the delivery notes say “now isn’t the time for that”. What does Jet have while in his “cell” but time? He spends part of his imprisonment sitting and thinking about the Ruby 7. He knows that Dark Matters could have easily found the cure mother prime so he assumes there is something else they are looking for. He realizes that his car is sentient. He realizes that they are looking for 2 main things, Ransom and the Ruby 7. He saw both of these leave. He says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want."

For this to work, the Ruby 7 needs to be classified as a Class X radical, this is a tall order, but I think the Ruby 7 meets the criteria. 

 4. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical

1st of all, look at that green car? That car is SO rad. 

Jokes aside, there are 2 main criteria I’m using to determine that the Ruby 7 could be the class X radical Dark Matters is looking for. First, is it literally possible that this is what Dark Matters is looking for? Does it fit any descriptors Director Wire gives us during her interview with Juno? Second, does it fit the definition of a class X radical? 

In answer to the first question, we consider what Dark Matters is searching for. We know that they know it’s class X, but not much else. In fact, Sasha suggests that Juno may know more than her about the radical because he’s been living with it. This gives the impression that they might not really know what they’re looking for. My theory here is they know that they are looking for a sentient robot, but they don’t know it’s a car. This explains why they know what they need to about its threats but not much else. It may also explain why some of the agents were looking in drawers. If they were not looking for Nureyev (cause like Buddy said, they should know he’s not inches tall) then perhaps they were looking for a sentient robot. Unless I’m misremembering something, I think this is all we really get in terms of information on what the second radical is. Sasha doesn’t give Juno much information despite giving him everything she can about the cure mother prime.

In answer to the second question, we look toward the definition Sasha gives Juno for a radical: “any person or object with the potential to cause significant change to civilized human life as we know it”. AI with sentience fits this definition. Even if you don’t think it does, the piece from the season 1 Q&A shows that Sophie thinks it does. They talk about the care that would need to be in place in order to introduce robots, ai, or aliens. Care is needed because any one of these three things would drastically change the galaxy as they know it. 

 I don’t really have any clever way to end this other than saying all of this could be wrong. I could be completely off and there are probably other explanations for everything I’ve described, but I actually feel pretty confident on this. It started off as a random thought and the more I’ve sat on it the more evidence I’ve collected. Whether this comes to fruition or not I hope you enjoyed reading my theory! 

CC: 

@thepenumbrapodcast 

[official-wayward-noctis]

Deancas Bingo - Trans Dean

Being Myself

Dean is hiding something but the others don't know.

Ao3 Link here

Cas never understood Dean Winchester. He was different from Sam and even smaller than his brother yet his soul was the kindest and he was much stronger than his brother. So when Dean asked him for help with buying groceries he didn’t think anything of it. Dean told him to grab some things as he went off so when he got done and went hunting for Dean; he didn’t expect him to be holding something close. 

“It’s nothing,” he told Cas but Cas was confused by his other friend. He didn’t ask as they got back and Dean told him to put away the food as he took care of something. Cas asked Sam if he knew what was up with Dean, Sam didn’t know either. He was very confused as well. Dean acted like nothing was wrong but Cas noticed a few things wrong in the next few days. Dean’s eating habits changed and the older Winchester male seemed to be eating more sweets. He seemed more irritated as well. Cas tried to figure it out but he couldn’t. He decided to ask Jody but she didn’t know what was up. She did come by and ask the boys if they needed anything.

“I think we are good,” Dean said as he seemed tired. Jody seemed concerned as she pulled Dean aside to talk to him. Cas and Sam didn’t understand until Jody came back and decided it was time to have all the boys sit down and talk. 

“Sam, how much do you know about your brother?” Jody asked.

“I believe I know a lot about him,” Sam said.

“Cas, how close are you to Dean?” Jody asked. 

“Very much so,” Cas said.

“Then you both know that you need to let Dean come to you both with any situation instead of coming to me. Dean is having a rough week and you both can’t figure out how to help. Maybe he doesn’t need help. Dean will ask for help if he needs it,” Jody explained. Cas and Dean nodded as the two watched Dean stay there and not say anything before Jody looked at him.

“Call me if you need anything,” Jody told him. Dean nodded as he walked to his room and decided to avoid his brother and Cas. 

~

Cas heard Dean calling out in pain and hurried to his room. Dean had something on his stomach as he cried out. He was laying on his back with his eyes closed. Cas moved closer but stopped. What should he do?

“Cas,” Dean whined and Cas was by his side asking what he could do as Dean just asked to be held. It was a weird request but Cas did as he was asked and he felt comfortable. It was nice to hold on to him and Dean seemed to relax in his arms.

“It’s normally not this bad,” Dean whined. “I rarely get them while being on T but I am this week. Why the emergency shopping trip. Dad thought it was helpful for keeping us out of the system with me not acting like my assigned birth gender but it just felt right. I always had leaned more to boy designated toys. I loved fixing cars and I never kept my hair long. I just binded until I could get surgery and then I pretended it was fine that I still had… anyways I have been on and off T for so long that I rarely get my period as much as I did before. I just sometimes couldn’t get T cause people were around or I didn’t want anyone knowing or I would forget”

“Your dad must have been supportive,” Cas said.

“Not really. He just liked how it benefited him. We never told Sammy because John was ashamed of me. Bobby knew cause I accidentally let him know and he was iffy at first but always supportive. Bobby always treated me like I was born a male instead of…” 

“Angels don’t have genders,” Cas said. “Our host might but we don’t. I have used many pronouns over the years but I never understood gender until I met you. You always are strong and proud of your gender. You aren’t the stereotype either.”

“Thanks,” Dean said. “I wish it was as easy to come out to Sammy like it is to you.” Cas nodded as Dean laid there and closed his eyes. It was weird to see Dean so relaxed but it was nice for once. 

~

Cas didn’t say anything to Sam as the other asked him if Dean told him what was wrong. Cas just acted as if Dean’s behavior was normal and that he was going to have to go for a pie run. Sam didn’t buy it but Cas was going for a pie run. Dean loved pie and needed something to cheer him up right now. The boy loved his pie better than anything else. Jack asked to go with him and he let him.

“Cas,” Jack said. Cas looked at the kid who was worried.

“Something wrong?” 

“I was reading last night and like Claire has been helpful but I think I’m nonbinary,” Jack said.

“What does that mean?” Cas asked.

“It means I used they/them pronouns and I’m not a man or woman exactly,” Jack explained. “I just don’t fall into the binary genders.” Cas nodded as he thought about Dean. Dean would know what to say. 

“I think you should let Dean know if you are comfortable. I feel he would understand better than me,” Cas said. “Angels don’t have genders. We normally use the pronouns of our host when we are in them.”

“So you are genderfluid?” Jack asked. Cas looked at the kid waiting for more. “It means you change gender. Sometimes you are one and the next day you can be another.”

“Then I believe so,” Cas said. Jack smiled and thanked him for being supportive. Cas nodded as he smiled at the kid. Jack talked about some show they were watching as Cas thought about the family. Maybe Sam used different pronouns as well then those he was born with. He didn’t know but he was glad to have this small family.

~

Dean and Cas were having lunch with Jack as Sam was out with Jody on a hunt. Dean was talking with Cas when Jack cleared his throat. 

“Dean,” Jack said.

“Yes,” Dean asked.

“I think I am nonbinary,” Jack said. Dean seemed to think about that and stopped himself from saying something and put on a smile. 

“Thank you for letting me know. What nonbinary pronouns do you use?” Dean asked.

“They/them for now,” Jack said feeling relieved. Dean seemed a bit skeptical but he was still accepting and that was all that mattered as he got Jack a teddy with the nonbinary flag on it and began referring to him with his proper pronouns after the conversation. Sam seemed confused until Cas explained that he would have to talk to Jack about it. Dean even came out to Jack and Jack seemed surprised but also proud of his father figure. So Jack and Dean had each other but Sam still wasn’t in the loop.

“Jack, why does Cas use they and them instead of using he and him?” Sam asked him.

“I’m nonbinary,” Jack said proud. He had got support from both Dean and Cas and now he was brave to admit who he was.

“There is no such thing,” Sam said. Dean froze as did Jack. Cas seemed to not understand.

“Sam,” Dean said. Sam went to argue but Dean stood up.

“Jack is nonbinary and if you can’t accept that then how can you accept me being your brother?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” Sam said.

“No, I am trans but you never needed to know that because you always just saw me as your brother. You never heard Dad insult me for being born the wrong gender or complaining about how I bleed once a month because I have female genitals. You didn’t have to deal with fighting him about me getting top surgery,” Dean said. Sam seemed to go quiet as Dean led Jack out of the room. Cas followed knowing he had a kid and his best friend to help. Dean held on to a crying Jack who didn’t understand the hardships that being non-cis represented. He didn’t have the problems of people not hating him because he had a support system around him. Later after Jack was asleep, Cas comforted Dean as Dean laid in his arms.

“Don’t leave,” Dean said when Cas thought he was asleep. Cas didn’t as he continued holding Dean well into the night. Dean woke the next morning and told Cas how he had feelings for him.

“I knew I was bi but I never accepted myself until I came out to you. You don’t have to have feelings back,” Dean touched his arm and Cas pulled up his sleeve and touched his arm. The print engrained in Dean’s arm appeared again. 

“This marks you as mine. I did it by accident but I know it pissed off Michael. We will always be connected to Dean Winchester and I think we will always be connected because we care for each other. Dean nodded as he held on to Cas with his life.

“I love you,” Dean said. He never said it before and it felt awkward on his lip but Cas smiled.

“I love you, too,” Cas said. Dean seemed to relax as they laid in each other’s arms and held onto one another. 

~

Dean saw Sam the next morning drinking coffee and researching on his computer. He looked up at his older brother and seemed to think before he spoke.

“I knew Dad always treated you differently but I didn’t know it was because you were born…” Sam didn’t finish. “What was…” Dean stopped him.

“I am not telling you my dead name nor does it matter. My name is Dean and it always has been. I’m your older brother and that is all that matters,” Dean said. 

“Cool. I will find time to apologize to Jack. It’s hard sometimes to remember how Dad reacted when we were kids. I never knew you had to deal with that,” Sam said. 

“Bobby always made sure I got what I needed. He bought my first binder that was more comfortable and made hunting a bit easier,” Dean said.

“It was how you knew Ben wasn’t yours right away,” Sam said.

“Can’t have kids with a woman,” Dean said. 

“Luckily you only have Jack that you co-raise with Cas,” Sam said.

“Cas is also my partner,” Dean informed Sam. Sam took a moment and nodded. He seemed to not say anything else until Jack came down and he apologized to the boy. 

“If it makes you better I had trouble with it at first but I remembered that gender identity is just what someone else chooses,” Dean explained. Sam seemed to nod as he asked Jack some questions and tried to be more open to the kid. Cas held Dean’s hand as Dean felt more comfortable in his skin for once in his life.