#envy brings the drama

[datlokibumtho]

Envy: "Let me guess: while it's not inaccurate, I shouldn't have said it?"

Ed: "Yes."

[quin-ns]

Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 8.2K

Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him

Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers

A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶

hunger games masterlist

“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”

In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.

“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.

You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.

It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.

As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.

He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.

She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?

It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.

As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.

It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.

“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.

It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.

Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.

Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.

The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.

It was perfect.

You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.

“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”

“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.

Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”

Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.

You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.

When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.

He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.

He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.

“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.

Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.

God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.

When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.

It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.

Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.

He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.

That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.

“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”

“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.

If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.

“Well, you did a wonderful job.”

Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.

The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.

Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.

His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.

“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.

But you… you grinned. You were too good.

“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”

Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.

“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”

Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.

From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.

Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.

The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.

It was simple as that.

After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.

His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.

You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.

You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.

“Coryo!”

“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.

“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.

“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”

“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”

“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”

The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.

“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”

Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.

A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.

“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”

Coriolanus blinked.

“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.

“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”

“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.

When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.

You stepped back from him, parting completely.

“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”

Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.

He would’ve, and you knew that.

The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.

He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.

So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…

“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”

Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.

“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.

Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.

Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.

He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?

Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.

Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.

In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.

He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.

When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.

Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.

“Coryo? What—“

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”

You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.

“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”

“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.

You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.

“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”

Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.

“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.

You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.

He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.

Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.

Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.

Was this the right moment?

He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.

Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.

His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.

Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.

But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.

Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.

“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”

Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.

Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”

You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“

“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”

“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.

“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.

With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.

“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”

You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?

He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.

His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—

“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.

“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.

Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.

You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.

He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.

Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.

Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.

You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.

He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.

Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.

Right away, he wanted more.

His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.

Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.

He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.

As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.

He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.

His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.

He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.

This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He’d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.

He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.

Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge

His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.

You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.

Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.

Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.

Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.

“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.

You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.

He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.

He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—

A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?

You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.

Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.

Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?

“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”

He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.

There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.

“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”

Again, no response.

He swallowed. Cleared his throat.

Again.

“Please?”

If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.

He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.

Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.

When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.

You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.

You were good to him like that.

If only you’d let him in now.

The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.

His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…

“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”

“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.

“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”

He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.

The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.

A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.

Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.

What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?

“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.

Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.

You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?

You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.

Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.

From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.

“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”

“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”

Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.

Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.

In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.

He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.

“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.

Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.

Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.

It took nothing for him to catch up to you.

“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”

“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.

It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.

“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”

You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.

Coriolanus swallowed.

“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”

You turned your head forward.

“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”

Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.

“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”

Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.

It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.

“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”

The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.

And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.

“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.

“So you didn’t get into a fight?”

Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.

“A fight?”

“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”

It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.

“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”

Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.

He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.

“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”

Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”

Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.

Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.

The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.

When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?

This was growing old very, very quickly.

Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.

Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.

“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”

No such luck.

You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.

You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.

“You weren’t opening the door.” Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.

“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”

You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”

A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”

You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.

“What do you want, Coryo?”

“I want you”

“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”

“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”

“You humiliated me.”

“In front of who? No one saw us.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”

Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.

“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”

He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.

“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.

“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”

“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”

Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?

No, that wouldn’t do.

It just wouldn’t.

“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”

You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.

If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.

Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.

You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”

Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.

“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”

Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.

More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.

Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.

So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.

Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.

The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.

Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.

The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.

“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”

You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.

Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?

You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.

As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.

Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.

“This isn’t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.

“We’ll see,” he mused in response.

He got you bare, and then himself.

You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.

“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.

Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.

A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.

He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.

With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.

You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.

He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.

“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.

That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.

It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.

Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.

Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.

Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.

He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.

Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.

His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.

Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.

He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.

You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.

To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.

He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.

His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.

You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.

It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.

A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.

He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.

“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.

He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.

You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.

Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.

After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.

He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.

You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.

Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.

“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.

You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”

Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.

“That you love me.”

You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.

“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”

Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.

You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.

[marrycv]

Muse

rockstar!ellie x reader

warnings : SMUT!!, no to consentement (happened with a men ellie saved us), alcohol, ✂️✂️✂️, swearing, age gab? (ellie be like 2-3 years older), thigh riding (r ! receiving), fingering (r ! receiving)

idk if thats all but i worked hard on this one 😜

enjoy!!

—

“Cmonnnnn we’re gonna be late!!”

“not my fault you took 2 hours in the shower?”

you and your bestfriend were getting ready for that little concert that was in your city. it was so rare you had finally something fun to do, and the best part of it, is that your favourite band was gonna be there. you were so excited to go there, but your bestfriend was just making you nervous, in the worst way ever.

you had a denim mini skirt with a lace crop top in black with some leather jacket, classic ‘rockstar girlfriend’ outfit if you’d search it on pinterest. but, it was a rock show anyways, so you were fitting in that vibe.

you had a little smug eyeliner with some star glitter around your eyes. your best friend has some too. exited by the fact that you two were matching like some 13 years old teenagers.

“okay, im ready”

“about time!! now come on, i dont wanna arrive while its crowded, wanna have the best view” she tells you while bringing you outside towards her car

“girl did you know my fav band are gonna be here??”

“ugh omg you said it at least one thousand times…” she sighs

“okay okay, will you be less annoyed when i tell you they look like this :” you said as you showed her the guitarists and the singer. they were 3 and your age. absolutely gorgeous people.

“YOOOOOOOOO!!!” Layla said, looking at the picture of the three bend’s members.

“rightttt?!!!”

“okay but look at the men?”

“his name is Jesse, one of the guitarist. currently dating the other guitarist” you informed her, for only her smile dropping at the deception.

“look, thats the singer” you continue “her name’s Ellie, and shes SO fucking hot, and shes gay”

“lesbian?” she asks you while she starts driving towards the location for tonight.

“yeah, literally everyone who listen to their music is because all the fans envy her. i dont blame them tho”

“what about the other guitarist?” she asks you, now interested in them

“Its Dina, Ellie’s ex”

“WHAAAAAT ??? nowayyyy”

you two laugh at the drama you shared to layla. it was funny gossiping and her finally showing some interest in what you liked.

-

arrived there, it was already crowded. nobody was on stage yet, but it was definitely bigger than you expected.

you friend touched your shoulder, knowing how much noisy places made you so uncomfortable.

“what aboouuuuuut we get VIP tickets for a quieter place mhh?”

“Layla? its too expensive i cant afford that, ill just- support it” you tell her, looking at your phone trying to distract yourself

“too late babe i bought us some” she says, looking at you with the biggest smile. eyes disappearing and teeth showing. She was your sunshine.

“whaaat? you shouldn’t have- im gonna repay you when i can okay?”

“nuh huh, its our night and my gift, okay?”

you nod and smile, worries erased by her gentle smile.

it was true, it was you guy’s night, and no anxiety would take that away.

In the VIP room, there was mostly middled aged men with some really young, but beautiful girls in their company. all already wasted. from here, you could be so close to the stage you thought if the artists would be close enough, you could touch them. you also had access to the backstage, which was an insane opportunity.

some normal people, like your age hanging out with people their age were also in the VIP. it was less awkward with all of those creepy men probably were ‘sugar daddies’

“im gonna grab us a drink ill be back, yeah?” layla whisper-screams in your ears then vanishes to the bar.

you look around you, analyzing the people. then get on your phone, just to seem lees alone.

“Hey you gorgeous lady, would you mind some company?” a raspy voice said

you look towards the voice and see a men, probably 25 years old, but obviously drunk and maybe also high.

“i already have company, but thanks” you said, gently, not wanting anything to happen.

“oh, but i dont see anyone babygirl…” he said as he leaned closer to you while you backed off a little.

his eyes widen, completely surprised by your non interested move.

“im not gonna bite youuu, only if you ask me to” he says and winks at you while touching your arm, going closer and closer to your breast.

“um.. no thanks..” you said, trying to get away, searching around for layla’s figure somewhere around…

“why are you so fucking rude? huh? cant even be happy someone wants to be with you mh? ‘lil slut..” he said as his grip on your arm was tightening, probably gonna leave a mark after.

“please-“ you started but got cut by someone else, behind you two

“she said no man”

the men looks behind him, feeling his grip on your arm going insanely tight. you hiss by the pain.

“she’s with me” he answers to the girl you yet didn’t dare to look at, feeling embarrassed by this whole situation

“are you with this man, miss?” the girl asked you.

her tone completely shifting from raspy, loud and angry to sweet and gentle. making you look up from the ground to see the Ellie Williams defending you. you answer her a small ‘no’. scared if you talked louder the men would take away your arm at this point. or scared you’d cry from anger. the tight feeling you felt in your throat was cutting your voice to get through, if the knot would get destroyed, you’d probably sob right here, but it would only get tighter, feeling like it was taking the oxygen away from your lungs. feeling like it was choking you so it couldn’t pass anymore. would only make your heart beat slower due to the little air you were able to breathe. but you felt like it was beating faster, like you just ran kilometers and stopped suddenly. making your body react in a bad way in the sudden change.

but that was only a feeling.

you just looked, away.

you could hear Ellie yell at the men until his grip on you left to only see his arm swing towards ellie’s face. only that she dodged his punch smoothly. almost satisfying to watch her doing it like she was the finest fighter in the world.

but the slowmo and the muffled voices stopped and when Ellie punched him. Everything was too loud and too clear.

blood getting out of the man’s mouth. attacking Ellie back. everyone screaming and getting away from the fight, creating a non purpose circle.

suddenly it wasn’t a rock show, but a fight show.

Once Ellie completely knocked out the men, him completely passed out on the ground, blood all over his face. she went towards you

“You okay?” she asked, gently as she didnt even just fought with someone like she was gonna kill him.

you simply nodded to her, shocked by this whole situation, never wanting it to end up this way.

“come with me, yeah? ill get you some water and… clean you up” she said looking at your cheek, having some blood on it.

you just followed her into her lodge. it was quiet and cozy.

nobody was in there, but you were kinda nervous about the fact that you were literally with a celebrity.

“sit down” she obeyed.

you sat on the closest chair you saw, following her orders like a dog, still under shock.

ellie took a glass and poured water in it, placed it on the table next to you, then took a small towel and again, put water on it. she came real close to you, her head titled on the side a little bit, her fingers took your chin and made your head move a little bit on the side. she took the towel and took the blood away from your cheek. probably the men’s blood. ellie didn’t have one single scratch. only her knuckles were brushed.

you watched her taking care of you like a little kitten she had found on the road and just, felt bad for it.

her eyes were concentrated on what she was doing, her fingers touching you so gentle, so softly. her bottom lip between her teeth due to the concentration. she might looked so rough earlier, but here? she was the softest person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“here..” she said as she stopped what she was doing. she sat next to you, with concerned eyes. she suddenly cared so much about you.

“thanks” you whispered, looking down to the glass of water in front of you.

“dont thank me, this guy was an asshole. are you hurt?” she asked looking at your arm, knowing he was holding it.

“if i were you id worry more about your hands” you said looking at them, all bloody and swallowed.

“its okay, dont worry about me…” She said getting up to grab some ice for your arm

“no, take it.” you said, putting it on her fingers trying to ease her pain from defending you.

the room went silent, a comfortable silence. the ones where you didnt rush do say anything or where you werent overthinking to find a subject to talk about.

Ellie on the other hand, was going insane. You were so pretty and you had a pin on your purse about their bands which meant that you were a fan. which meant you knew about her and listened to her music. the silence was driving her insane. she’d just wish she was a normal person who weren’t screaming for her name out there. screaming for her and the fact that they all wanted her. like she was theirs. but she didn’t want that. she wanted to be yours, and it wasn’t gonna be easy. she thought you were scared by her, she thought you saw her completely different now, that you’d stop listening about her being so so toxic with girls with the best beat dina and jesse could ever put to make everyone forget about how of an asshole she was.

about how the girl was hers but she wasnt the theirs. about how she just fucked the girl cause she was bored.

but now, you could saw her as a crazy girl that punches someone almost to death. someone dangerous.

you were just too pretty for this man, for this treatment. she would have done this for anyone, but taking care of them after? nahhh she wouldve just walked away.

“whats your name..?” Ellie asked, looking dead up in your eyes like she wasn’t going crazy on overthinking.

“my name’s ______” you tell her.

“im uh, im Ell-“

“Ellie Williams, yeah i know”

“of course you do..” she sighed at herself.

“fuck- i uh my friend… she’s gonna be dead worried!! fuck fuck” you say, completely on panic mode

“hey, hey, hey, its okay, just send her a message to let her know youre all good, im not letting you out there again, something worse could happen to you.” she says, in a stern tone.

“you worried about me Williams?” you ask her, calmed but surprised by her reaction, slightly titling your head a little bit. the small amount of alcohol in your system making you bolder than you ever could.

“believe it or not sweetheart, i care about my fans”

something in what you said activated Ellie’s dangerous side. she was gonna torture you and never let you go.

“dont you have a show you have to do? for the caring of your fans?”

“i believe they can wait a little bit, dont you think?” she smirked at you.

that goddamn smirk she’d have in those pinterest pictures of her if you searched up her name on the search bar. that smirk when she was on live and someone would tell how much they loved her. or when her fans would ask her to sign on their boobs.

that smirk.

“how disappointed i would be if i was one of those, knowing you were just sitting in here with someone you didnt even knew”

“mhhh i wouldnt care less doll”

you blushed at the nickname, you’d cringe if someone else would’ve called you like that, but the way she said made your panties grow a little wet spot faster than you thought your body could.

you shifted a little bit in your chair, uncomfortable by how sweaty you’ve just became.

“dont you think its hot.. in here?” you said, praying for her to not notice it was because of how much your heart was pumping, making you red everywhere.

“follow me” Ellie said, getting up and walking in another room. you were almost too shaking to even walk but you managed to make your way to ellie. she was in a small bedroom. how could you know lodges had bedrooms? no idea.

“we have those bedrooms if someone from the bend is tired or dont feel good, very useful. i think it was Beyoncé that asked that”

“you know beyoncé???” you asked completely amazed

“uhhh, no. im a small artist, not a pop star” she laughed and made herself comfortable on the bed.

you sat next to her, but shy enough to keep your distance away from her a little.

Ellie just grabbed a guitar that was hanging on the wall and started to play a little melody. her fingers stroking the strings so perfectly, making them some beautiful note and then you recognized the song. she was signing one of hers.

its like you were in a dream, the room was so dark but there was lights everywhere, hanging like a teenage room. making able to see everything with the most perfect lighting, you were able to see the intense shadows from ellie’s perfect muscles. aligned how it was made, like god modelled them himself with his own hands. the way she was just there looking at where her fingers were at to know what note to play next. her foot tapping around with the beat. her hair being lighten by the small yellow lights, making her auburn hair look way more softer than usual.

you couldn’t contain yourself at the sight.

“wanna try?” Ellie asked, handing you the guitar with smile on her lips… her perfect lips- ok stop this madness.

“i- i dont know how to play”

“ill teach you- here, put it on your legs…” she then got closer and took your hands to place them to make a chord. “and here is the chord C major” she smiled at you. “easy right?”

“sure, if i dont count the fact that my fingers are about to explose”

she looked at you and laughed, you did the same. you felt now so comfortable with her.

“alright..” she said,

“get in my lap imma teach you some other stuff.”

“huh?”

“the guitar, you trust me?”

she said, clarifying your dirty mind.

“uh yeah, i do” you said then sat in front of her, between her legs. she wrapped her arms around you and guided your fingers, showing you the chords. one by one.

her fingers felt sooo good on your skin, you were just wondering how good they felt inside of you.

you knew that what you were feeling was wrong, that you two just met but you couldn’t help to press your ass to her crutch. Ellie’s words stuttered, and so did yours. every words were slower and her mouvements were more sensual, if you werent delusional.

the tension just kept growing and only one more move and it could be done for the both of you.

she pressed her head in your shoulder. still teaching you. a hand on yours- guiding you and another on your hip… and she just made you get closer to her, as you could even get closer. you were trying to not moan at this point. what she was doing, ‘teaching’ you guitar and making your heart skip a beat, pretending like nothing else was happening, like it was just all in your imagination. but the feeling was so strong, so strong.

you felt her lips stroking against the skin of your neck while she was whispering you the instructions of the next chords.

crazy how an hour ago you were with your bestfriend, being exited about just seeing ellie live, and here you were, she was literally teaching you how to play guitar with hers. this felt all like it was some kind of prank, too good to be true, but you were just there to enjoy yourself at 100%.

Ellie’s hand on your hip was now playing around on your thigh, she’d tell you how good you were doing. she then moved her hand, painfully slow in your inner thigh. your breathing was speeding up like she was already in you…

she has just touch you so little.

you craved her so much.

you let her get higher, she stoked her fingers on your clothed cunt, could feel the wet spot on your panties that was growing since you got into her lodge.

“is this okay?” she asked you. scared she was taking everything too far, but you just pushed her hand closer to where you needed her the most.

Ellie took the guitar away from the both of you and turned you over so she could see your face.

your legs wrapped around her waist and now both of her hands were on your hips.

the atmosphere completely changed. it was romantic and comfortable 2 seconds ago, and now its so much more intense, the room feels hotter and your nervousness is on the top of your head controlling you to stay still.

“ellie…” you whined.

that made ellie so much more bold. her hands moved up from your hips to your cheeks, not forgetting to touch every part of your skin that was on the way. it wasn’t too slow and either too fast, just enough to realize she was getting closer and closer while her eyes switched on your eyes to your lips. you leaned in, like she was a magnet, pulling you towards her. her lips on yours felt the most right thing you’ve ever felt. they were so soft, so warm, so so tender against your lips. the kiss turned into a make out soon enough like it was a relief from all the tension that had built. her tongue dancing against yours, feeling this feeling of euphoria in your whole body, only catching yourself needed more and more.

unconsciously, your hips were rocking against any pressure you could find. ellie stopped her kisses to only replace them on your neck. you tilt your head to give her more access. you had no idea what you were doing, its like your body went into full control and your mind was just beyond the clouds, seeing the stars when her knee pressed against your clothed cunt. a moan and a a relief sigh escaped your lips.

all was happening so fast and ellie was taking your shirt off, as you were doing the same to her, like in those romantic movies when the two characters find eachothers and they get heated in the moment. like there wasn’t time, like you were late to somewhere.

ellie’s fingers found their way, once again on your clit.

“you mind if i take this off?” she asked, with a smirk, but you could see her cheeks blushing, her breath being fast… her hands shaking.

you nodded, way too speechless of the goddess in front of you

“words, i need words baby”

“take it off” you saw, looking at your legs that were still wrapped around ellie’s waist.

ellie layed you down on the bed, now on top of you, looking at you up and down, analyzing your body. she gently touched the hem of your skirt to take it off. you lifted your hips up to help her. her mouvement were painfully slow, as she was trying to make this sooo memorable.

your panties along with your hips were now on the floor of the room. laying with only your bra left.

ellie’s lips returned to yours, while you could feel her hands getting closer to where you needed her the most.

“ellie..?”

“yes, yes? what’s wrong?” she asked, genuine

“i uh.. can i ride on you?” you asked her, closing your eyes to try and hide yourself from the immense embarrassment you felt, but before you knew it, ellie stood up, you looked at her, clearly confused about what she was doing

to your surprise, she only stripped herself, finding her now completely naked. you could see her abs.. her biceps.. the ‘v’ kind of shape she had on her lower stomach.. her small, yet perfect boobs, only finding your mouth watering at the sight- and not only your mouth but your pussy was drenched too.

“are you gonna stop staring at me?” ellie asked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you- again

maybe she felt magnified to you too? just like you felt so attracted to her

you were winning in anticipation and excitement

naturally, her leg intertwined with one of yours so both of your clits were pressing against eachothers.

feeling her like that against you was heaven. grinding yourself against her was beyond beautiful. the scene was so pornographic that i’d create a new sin in the bible.

“els! im so.. close… fuck!!”

“me too, fuck.. together yeah?”

and just like that she gave a couple more trusts against you and you did the same, as your mouvements were synchronized, as if it was destiny to find her and make love with the love of your life.

you saw and felt fireworks, a big release escaped as you were almost screaming by pleasure. and ellie was just, amazed by your fucked expression she could cum again over and over by just being on top of you, looking at you this beautiful. she couldnt stop.

“els! please!” you said as you felt overstimulated by your previous orgasm.

“please give me another one, please.” ellie was begging at this point. as she needed it more than you, as she felt it in her.

she could go on and on, and you would let her abuse your cunt for the rest of your life if it felt like that.

[beiasluv]

forbidden fruit | Charles Leclerc

a/n: new to the f1 communityy 😬 apologies for any term or idea i got wrong. female!reader. no proofread! enjoyy 🤍

summary: the princess of mercedes and the prince of ferrari, what could possibly go wrong?

“y/n! y/n! she’s in her last turn! leclerc’s trailing behind! can he do an over take?”

splashing champagnes and listening to the dutch national anthem were never your favorite of winning a podium, but who cares?

you were on P3 and charles leclerc was not.

perhaps retelling the story of your rivalry with the monégasque driver would take a whole frustrating, aggravating, and lengthy year for us to get through; and perhaps it was for the best to leave it where it is, never to be touched, but to reminisce with a needle of cringeness poking through your heart.

although an honorable mention to verstappen, for taking the lead role of leclerc’s personal favorite rival.

it was all an inchident, of course.

smirking back to the driver in a flashing, scuderia ferrari, red fire suit, you could only feel your ego bubbling to the top of your throat. charles leclerc was staring. and staring hard. what a shame you couldn’t even take out your phone and take a snippet of his raging glance. what a fun sight for the whole news headlines to see.

‘charles leclerc, envy and jealousy…’

of course, he couldn’t lash it out. how could he? would the handsome, young, and talented ferrari driver want to ruin his reputation in the media? obviously, not.

of course, you knew it all too well. every day you wake up with the tip of a knife, aiming at your throat, ready to nick you anytime you take a wrong step on the luxurious path of an f1 driver. being the only female driver on the grid makes your life a thousand times more challenging.

but who were you to be a nitpick?

the media loves drama. we all do. perhaps it was a little bit more entertaining to see what you are wearing when the races had gone wrong. what hairstyle were you wearing for the big race? or, maybe, just which driver you were dating on the grid this season?

never once you could escape the dating questions or all the bullshit misogynistic attitudes from the journalists, press, media, and, well, …you name it.

perhaps you have to give it to leclerc for never going easy on you just because you are of a different gender.

“congratulations on P3, y/n,” max turned towards you and gave you a pat on the shoulder; simultaneously, bringing you back to reality.

“t- thanks.”

—

“you win this one, l/n.”

he took off his helmet, and clutched it loosely to his side. the cheeky smirk plastered on his face. the eyes searched for the depth of yours.

only you knew how much pain it was for him to force his lips to create such a soft and fake smile for the thousand camera lenses, waiting to catch the two rivals lacking. bumping into leclerc after the race, fresh and full of adrenaline, alone in the hallway of the track was never an enjoyable experience to endure.

“good race, leclerc,” you muttered out as many PR and drivers walked past you two.

“same to you.”

what a shame your PR manager ushered you out for the media room before you two could give a shot of throwing hands - elegantly, of course.

—

“good work on the qualifying round, l/n. return to the garage. over.”

“copy that,” you tapped your headset, notifying the engineer of the prestigious mercedes team.

driving for mercedes in f1 could count as your biggest dream since the karting days. and the race won against ferrari was a - personal - success.

slowing your baby down, and pressing the brake mechanism of the car, you came to a halt as the friction overpowered the tires. one or two seconds later, you could hear the mercedes team rushing and scurrying over to your parked position to collect you back to the mothership.

“take her back, guys!”

the screaming of your fans nearby erupted as you ascended out from the cramped space of your f1 seat. taking your helmet off, and waving to them; you gracefully jumped down from the car and headed towards the mercedes headquarters.

a long walk, but who are you to make a fuss?

an f1 driver should have no problem walking a couple of miles. oh but how annoyingly a group of fans quickly crowded over you and blocked your ways…red flags, horses, and charles leclerc faces. clearly, you knew whose fans they were.

fussing, grabbing, and pulling, you were harassed, unfortunately. autographs, hats, pictures, postcards, and questionable stuff were pushed into your face.

“y/n! please! sign my shirt!” “get the hell away from charles!”

“charles deserved p3 today!” “l/n!! l/n! say hi to my dad! he loves you!”

trying to fulfill all of their requirements, you realized you had found yourself in the sea of scuderia ferrari fans. it is an unspoken fact that you were the rival of charles leclerc; you could say some fans were more enthralled by that fact than others.

“y/n! what do you think about charles? are you guys dating?”

sometimes you hate technology. the cameras pointing at you reminded me of the knife you carry mentally with you every day. it could gain you thousands of thousands of likes in a few tiktoks or perhaps get ready to say goodbye to your f1 position.

“…we’re not talking. in any complicate way,” smiling through the pain you signed the cap that was shoved into your face. gosh, mercedes. where was your security?

your patience could only last so much until one fan decided it was worth it to grab your hand and pull you down for an instagram-worthy photo. and he possibly thought the best way to execute it was to, firstly, seize your waist. how thoughtful of him.

“fuc- please don’t-”

“y/n! i love you!”

man-child was not having it. sweaty and clammy hands could send chills down your spine if you didn’t know.

“please-”

smile through the pain. smile through the pain. it was all part of the job, at the end of the day. the fans still won and you were just a doll for f1. breathe in, breathe out.

he pulled his iphone 7 out of his pocket, painfully slow; slower than the ferrari’s pitstops. his side was squished to yours. the cologne, the smell, the sensory, everything-

“hey, hands off.”

you could say it was the first time you were glad to see charles leclerc from your entire life; wearing his race suit sluttily around his waist. leclerc - being leclerc - stunned his fans, leaving a big hole in the crowd around you.

he was reaching out for your waist; surprisingly, in a way you were pleased, and pulled you out of the red crowd. and just like magic, the security came rushing in and ushered the mob of fans away from the scene.

wearing that stunned face of yours, you regained consciousness and your rival emotions. clearing your already cleared throat, charles took it as a signal to let go of your waist. how suddenly you realized it was all happening over the armor of your fire suit.

thank god.

“..thanks”

“no need to thank me,” the competitive tone made its way through his annoying lips again. scoffing, he looked at you with his hand clutching his helmet by his side, “i don’t understand why they need to adore you this much.”

how rude.

“for the record, they are your fans, leclerc,” you scoffed offendedly, and your hand found its natural place on your chest; clutching for dramatic effect.

“what did i do to deserve such loyal fans, l/n…” not even looking at you he smirked under his nose. “they shouldn’t be acting this way, no?”

he looked over at you, seeing you in your distressed state and a chuckle left his lips. the cameras settled on the stands far away in the distance and stared at you two, they were definitely on.

shit.

this is going to end up in the headlines.

—

“check out your new title…” your manager cleared his throat as you nervously waited.

“you can’t just leave me hanging here!”

placing your phone in your lap your hands returned to the comfort of the steering wheel. twisting and turning, you maneuvered your mercedes inside the driver's garage.

“calm the fuck down! i’m pulling out the source for accuracy,” you swore you could see your manager rolling his eyes. “wait for it…‘charles to the rescue. mercedes and ferrari, love or rivalry?’”

“shut up.”

“i can send you the links.”

“please don’t,” you sighed as you looked over your shoulder to slide into the parking lot like a distinguished f1 driver. “…the devil works hard, but the media works harder, or what?”

“we could use a little PR for mercedes, y’know?” the crackled chuckle left your phone.

please.

“the signal is shit in the parking lot, i’ll see you at the paddock. bye.”

“alright, be quick.”

gathering your bag and phone, you checked your face one last time in the rearview mirror and opened the car door. unfortunately, the infamous ferrari entered the parking lot with its signature roars, as you stepped out of your car.

the devil had worked hard once again. walking to your trunk, you kicked it open and snatched some of your essential stuff for the race. and who would’ve thought charles leclerc could park his car in under 20 seconds?

not to mention, it wasn’t straight. (oops)

getting out of his car, he checked his hair and fixed his shirt. obviously, aware of the paparazzi lurking around the track’s garage for the big day, and hoping to sell a couple of pics for something a little more than a couple of bucks. perhaps an even better price for them if they caught you and your rival having a ‘friendly’ chat.

don’t get close to him. don’t get close to him.

“what a coincidence,” leclerc approached your mercedes as he locked his ferrari with its infamous beeping.

“how so?”

smirking back at him, you slammed your trunk closed and shut off; locking your car in the same manner. catching the glimpse of his eyes you made it your personal goal to escape him as fast as you could possibly can.

flicking your head away and taking off, the path inside the track was as empty as you hoped it could be.

“slow down, i just wanna talk.”

“leclerc.”

“you walk too fast,” you swore if you looked back and he is grinning. “you trying to escape from me?”

fuck.

“got a problem with that, leclerc?”

his dark green eyes met yours after you decided the risk was below the ‘manageable’ level to turn around.

“no,” he grinned at you. how you wish you could smack it off of his face. “i jus’ want some company while walking to the track, no?”

company, my ass.

clearing his throat, he looked at you, “you’re a pretty good rival though.”

gaining a nod and a smirk from you leclerc was cut short of his run time as his PR manager came to collect him to the ferrari garage. how sad. his messy hair, the confidential wave, and two eyes met yours one last time before you decided to head to the mothership of your mercedes headquarters.

big trouble, y/n. big trouble.

—

“y/n, we neeed to talk.”

the paddock was usually quiet upstairs, all the mechanics and engineers spent their time in garage down below. only toto, george, lewis, your manager, and their managers, and - obviously - you would spend time up here. also. is every private manager in the world annoyingly scary and friendly at the same time or what?

sitting down next to you on the black sofa of the mercedes headquarters by the pitch, you were face-to-face with your lovely manager.

clearing your nonexistent anxiety, “…yes?”

“look…the media is starting to notice your relationship with charles…”

“and..?”

“and,” he crossed his arms, “we need to work on keeping this situation private…it could affect your reputation. maybe after the soft launch phase is over, you can publicize it…if you want to, obviously.”

the fuck?

“…what are your thoughts?”

he looked into your face, not a single thought behind it. somehow the racetrack outside the notoriously big, shiny window of the mercedes paddock suddenly gained your attention, and he restored to snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“what-? oh right- for fuck’s sake! we’re not in a relationship!”

“and what about those paparazzis’ pictures? I thought we agreed on sharing every ‘public’ detail about your life with me?”

“first of all, privacy. second of all. you believe that?! anthony! you’re my manager, i would’ve told you if i was dating a ferrari driver!” grabbing a quick breath,

“do you think i want to date the reddest of all flags on the grid?!”

“yeah? but that’s not the impression the media got,” he said. “even max! max verstappen thought-”

“who cares what max thinks!” you thrown your head back on the sofa.

“PR could be good, but we don’t know if it’s going to blacklash-”

george russell. he walked up to you two arguing on the black sofa and smirked at you; clearly, he heard your talks about ‘the reddest of all flags on the grid.’

“shut your mouth, russell,” sighing sarcastically as you could and you turned to your manager, who was having the time of his life.

“I’m not saying anything,” he raised his hands defensively, grinning the shit out of the corners of his mouth.

“I’m a driver, not a play doll you could match-make for the team’s reputation. hell. doesn’t charles have a girlfriend?”

anthony pulled out his phone and scrolled through ‘something,’ “yes…charles…has a girlfriend, PR relationship?”

“what do you mean?”

putting his phone away, “doesn’t matter. but what the media care about is to get a story out of nothing.”

“…and?”

“you have a reputation of being a private figure, and you're an expert in keeping it that way. we just need to do that until the end of the season.”

george chuckled sarcastically, "she seems angry at us, guys.”

“i am. and i’m not dating anyone for mercedes. done,” you stood up from the sofa and beelined towards the door. “also. i’m telling toto.”

and someone finally heard you this time. the whole room’s atmosphere seemed to tense up as someone entered the door.

toto wolff.

“is there a problem, y/n?” toto asked as george smirked at the unfolding situation.

you swung your head towards the origin of the sound and cleared your throat, “your employee, mr. wolff, is trying to matchmake me with a ferrari driver.”

toto chuckled.

toto chuckled?

“so there is something between you and charles?” he raised his eyebrow at you. expectedly, george was holding his laughter in for his dear life.

“why does everyone thinks that we’re dating?! even toto?!”

“so you’re not dating leclerc?”

“no!”

congratulations. you have successfully crashed onto the sofa once again, groaning your pain out.

“she’s lying,” george chimed in.

“I. am. not.”

how surprising that george’s back kissed the sofa as you tackled him jokingly down. a moment of silence for toto to watch many of his best drivers tackle each other like it’s a normal day in kindergarten.

“are you sure you are not dating, leclerc?”

last straw. you clutched your bag and left george dysfunctional on the couch. walking past the room, you glanced back one last time and said with the best sarcasm, “i’m not. and I’m not dating him for mercedes. done! I’m a driver, not a doll!”

slamming the door shut, you headed for your private driver’s room.

"she's angry at us…” george chuckles nervously; obviously, with a hint of joy.

“no shit sherlock”

—

edit: part 2

part 2?? reblog, like, whatever the heck you want would be appreciated 😘

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, lots of luv 🤍

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

thought you might enjoy this one, raven ;) how about headcanons of rollo and malleus who are crushing hard on g/n reader but the twist is that reader is dating/in love with their mortal enemy...THE OTHER GUY. what will rollo and malleus do? try to steal reader away to spite the other person? I eagerly await to see what you'll do with this prompt!!!

*rubs hand together* They're both emotionally repressed and silly little guys that I will happily torment 😈 This prompt reminds me of fjsbsjxvksnwkw this video…

I can now use Dorm Uniform artworks for the banners, yay--

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Emo Boi era? Emo Boi era.

Malleus is used to being alone. He’s used to it and yet… it has never felt this frigid, with needles of ice that prod his skin and scales with each step, the loneliness seeping into his blood and bones. The chill always comes when he sees you with Flamme—smiling, laughing—or when you turn down his invites to walk alongside him. “I already have plans with my boyfriend,” you’d say, and he’s encased in ice. “Sorry, maybe another time?”

It’s not just him that experiences the consequences of his gloomy mood. His classmates and the immediate surrounding environment also suffer. When Malleus passes, he brings with him angry thunder or hail the size of golf balls, floods the hall or brings a blanket of snow up to your knees. Everyone walks on eggshells, scared to do or say something to set him off.

He retreats from those rejected outings and spends the evenings alone, walking around campus to hit up all the gargoyle spots. Malleus laments to the gargoyles (and to Gao-Gao Dragon-kun), sharing about his romantic troubles. On the days when his mood is so sour he cannot even take his usual strolls, Malleus holes up in his bedroom with a blanket and a tub of ice-cream. He'll pout and indulge in the sweet frozen treat to chase off his sorrows, all while watching historical dramas and soap operas to temper his envy.

He savors the little victories, times when he’s able to have you for a moment of solidarity. Nothing is quite as enchanting to him as seeing how the sun blooms in your eyes when he performs what he considers such minor tricks—sparks of light that dance in the palm of his hand, a flower pulled from midair. (He considers flexing his magic small acts of revenge against Flamme too.)

... How is it, then, that you smile brighter still with him, when he abstains from the miracle of magic? The frustration is enough to make the light flicker out, and the flower crumble into ash. It’s not fair, Malleus thinks, that Flamme should come in to steal away the one I’ve had my eye on long before he has. Dragons can be territorial and possessive creatures—and you’re the treasure he’s guarded for so long.

His retainers awkwardly try to comfort him. Silver isn’t quite sure what to say, Lilia gently reminds Malleus that there will be others that take his breath away (“If you love them, then you must also learn to let them go,” Lilia had sagely advised)… and Sebek is Malleus’s personal hype man. He goes on for hours and hours about how “the human has poor taste in men!!”, shit talking Rollo, and extolling his young master. At one point, Sebek even advises that Malleus reveal Rollo’s misdeeds to you just to prove “the difference in nobility” between the two.

Malleus would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered any and all options. All it would take is the wave of his hand to decimate any rival, mage or no. Perhaps he could spin a curse to drive the others off, or simply whisk you away under the cover of night. But the longer he lingers on the ideas, the more they make his heart ache. No, he cannot bring any of them into fruition—he can't bear to see your happy expression shift to that of fright, the same way everyone else seems to regard him. Caving to his basest desires—it would be proof of the monster they see in him. It would make Rollo right.

It would be discourteous of me to intervene in another's personal affairs. It's his final decision, the mantra he recites to himself over and over and over again. Let go, and move on. Let go, and move on. Yet in his heart of hearts, he has not accepted it, cannot cut away the last of the threads that bind his feelings to you. Malleus is plagued by fitful nights, dreams that manifest as if just to mock him. In them, you're always shrouded in white, at some faraway altar. No matter how fast he runs or flies, he can never reach you. Other times, he's been forgotten entirely, not invited to the ceremony at all. Cast off into the darkness or a bog or an enchanted wood to stew and brood all alone.

He'll wake in a cold sweat and with an agonizing roar that shakes the entire castle. When Lilia and the others rush to his chambers to check on him, they find it in disarray. Items are thrown everywhere, the comforter cast off and the bed a mess from tossing and turning, ugly claw marks running across his curtains... The chandelier has fallen, the green-tipped candles of it catching the fabric on fire—and there he is, kneeling amid the flames, clutching at his head, his heart.

"Leave me be," Malleus snarls at his retainers. He knows the flames will not harm him, and they know it too. The least he can do is spare them from witnessing him in such a pathetic, distraught state. It’s over, isn’t it? He, the fearsome dragon, has lost to some self-righteous “hero”. His fairy tale’s happily ever after is impossible.

He’s coping… coping and seething—

At first, Rollo thinks you must be mad, or playing the part in some cruel prank. How can anyone genuinely be attracted to such a repulsive, despicable villain like Malleus Draconia? He cannot fathom it—yet the longer be observes, the more frightening the truth becomes: those feelings of yours are genuine. Rollo then concludes something even more wild: that Malleus as bewitched you, cast some sort of dark magic that clouds your common sense. After all, how can you not see that Malleus is so very, VERY wrong for you?

Whenever possible, Rollo tries to preach, to warn you about dealing with the devil (yes, he outright calls Malleus that) and giving into temptation. He furiously implores you to reconsider, to think of your soul and to salvage it. Alas!! His words only fall on deaf ears. He curses, thinking Malleus’s enchantment far too powerful for him to overcome through typical means. Still, Rollo shall not relent.

His digs and sleights directed at Malleus seem to only become more hateful. When they cross paths in the hallway, Rollo makes it a point to purposefully bump into him on the shoulder--and you can bet this man doesn't hold bad when it comes to the insults. (Sebek tends to yell back in Malleus's defense, while all Malleus does in response is tut and tighten the arm he has wrapped around you.)

Rollo remains cordial to you (though you're not free from his lectures about how you should "renounce Malleus Draconia's hand"). He's still very much resistant to any sort of affection you try to demonstrate for him, be it verbal, physical, or otherwise, often shooing it away or deeming it "salacious". However, he's quick to change his tune if Malleus happens to be nearby, enduring your compliments and brief touches as he fights a blush from creeping onto his face. The blush is something he hastily conceals with his handkerchief and insists is "just the weather" or "a fever", nothing more than that.

There are instances when Rollo wonders why he's dedicating so much time and effort into saving one puny, pathetic person. His cause is so much greater than that, and yet he cannot tear himself away. Perhaps, he reasons, you are just that pitiful, and he feels sorry for you to fall victim to Malleus's machinations again and again. In his mind, Malleus is the monster that has kidnapped some innocent royal, and he, Rollo, is the saint sent to liberate them. Why is it, then, that he also sees your face everywhere even when he doesn't mean to? It's maddening to gaze into his fireplace and jolt back, thinking he has seen a ghostly face in the flames.

Much to Rollo's chagrin, his aide and vice president (and even the entire gaggle of enchanted NBC gargoyles) offer their unsolicited romantic advice. They demonstrate their unwavering support in other ways as well, often sneaking about to check on their beloved prez and making an effort to speak highly of him specifically in your presence. The gargoyles also (annoyingly) try to set a "romantic ambience" up by singing and tossing glitter down on you and him when you happen to speak. They're the wingmen Rollo didn't ask for--

It's ridiculous that they would think I have even a passing interest in seeking intimate companionship, Rollo quietly seethes. He doesn't understand where anyone would get that impression of him from. But everyone around him, even the folks of the City of Flowers, can see it for themselves. Rollo seems haunted by something, always looking over his shoulder with a longing in his eyes. The line between disgust and desire are gradually blurring, in spite of the man himself not recognizing it for what it is.

Rollo becomes increasingly frustrated that you refuse to listen to him, that you continue to hang all over Malleus like some brainwashed thrall. He doesn't even know what he's mad at anymore. At Malleus, for taking you for himself? At you, for being so stupid? At himself, for not being strong enough to bring you back to your senses? Maybe it's all three. It's become an obsession now, never too far from his mind and always gnawing away at his every thought. This fire under his skin, the urge to sin, sin, sin… He feels like he's going crazy--

When the anger has finally swallowed his sanity, Rollo, numb, comes to a singular dark conclusion: it's not him, it's you. It was always you, because all this time, you were in on this ruse. Of course. It was so obvious. How could he have not realized it before? You must be a mage too, one that had cast a horrible curse upon him, made him go mad with desire. Dangerous—you were dangerous, and he had to be rid of you just like he had to be rid of Malleus Draconia. For the world's sake. For his own sake, before fanning flames converged into another inferno.

And so he calmly takes out a plain white letter and matching envelope, penning an invitation to you. He asks you to come visit him in the City of Flowers, that he will be waiting for you at the top of the bell tower. You appear here as requested, and you’re greeted with an offer most ominous: choose him or Malleus; be his or burn like the wicked being that you are. There’s no humor to Rollo’s eyes, only a fervent fire blazing in the darkness. He awaits your answer, ready to cast his judgment soon after.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Unexpected Trip

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.

Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.

You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.

Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.

"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."

As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."

You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."

As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.

"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.

Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.

Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.

The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.

"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.

"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.

Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.

Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.

Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.

You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.

5 Years Ago

You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.

Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.

It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.

Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"

"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.

"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.

"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.

As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."

You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.

With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."

He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.

"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.

You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.

After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.

"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.

You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.

Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."

"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.

Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.

Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"

Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"

Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.

Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.

There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.

Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.

The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.

"KYAAA!"

Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.

"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.

Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.

You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.

"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.

With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.

Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.

The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.

You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.

"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.

Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."

"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.

You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."

Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated

Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"

"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."

As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.

"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.

He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."

And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.

🚗

After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.

Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.

As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."

The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."

You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."

The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."

You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."

The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."

With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.

"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.

Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.

As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.

🚗

One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.

Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.

"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."

Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."

"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."

Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing

chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.8k

notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji loved working on Sundays.

With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.

He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.

But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.

The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen. 

With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor. 

The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown. 

Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?

The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid. 

Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around. 

Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband. 

As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association. 

Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.

On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.

Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted. 

Or so he thought. 

This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.

Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.

“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”

Naoya scowled awfully.

"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."

Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."

Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji quirked another smile.

Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”

Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer. 

Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.

But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.

Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully. 

“Did you make her see you?”

Quite a question.

Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare. 

Where did that come from? 

“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.

In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man. 

Then, he repeated, “See me who?”

Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.

His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”

What an oddly specific accusation.

“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."

Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.

In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush. 

He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.

His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though. 

"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”

At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.

“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”

In the sheets with an older woman.

Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.

“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.” 

“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”

Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”

He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted. 

“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”

"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”

“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”

As if Naoya would care. 

Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”

The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.

“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.” 

“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”

Immediately, Toji arched a brow. 

“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”

Naoya stared back, rather stupefied. 

In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy. 

He did not like what the other man insinuated. 

"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”

Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."

Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.” 

Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."

Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?” 

"So were you." 

"What?"

"Baby?"

And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice. 

No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.

Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?

“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”

Her voice trailed off.

When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth. 

With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again. 

“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”

No response.

So, he continued.

“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”

Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.

“We’re acquaintances.”

The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.

Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him. 

By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart? 

Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.

At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him. 

“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.

“Yes.” 

In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.

Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”

Checkmate.

But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”

“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”

Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.

Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”

“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”

The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”

“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”

While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.

“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”

At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.

To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.

“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions. 

In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him. 

“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”

With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.

Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.

He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.

He drew in a deep breath...

...and he chuckled.

He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.

He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!

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[hisui-dreamer]

a letter never meant to be delivered

Characters: Riddle, Azul, Jade, Rook, Malleus, Sebek, Lilia

Synopsis: you find a letter left on his desk, and find his feelings for you have overflowed onto it

Tags: love letter, pining, period drama coded, regency-esque language, confessions, bot proofread

Word count: 393

Notes: pick your fav twst boi from above when you read this haha

i just rewatched pride and prejudice and emma so the period drama language has been infused into me haha

Masterlist

To my dearest and most esteemed prefect,

It may come as a surprise for you to receive this letter from me, yet, in this moment, I can think of no better way to express my innermost sentiments. Regardless of your response, I desire nothing more than to remain by your side, even if only as a friend.

I have fallen irrevocably, with profound ardour, for every facet of your being. Each passing moment, without exception, is adorned with the indelible presence of your image in my thoughts. Your essence lingers, casting an enchanting spell that intensifies my longing to be in your presence. This yearning within me knows no respite, ceaselessly expanding like a relentless flame, consuming my every waking thought and weaving its way into the fabric of my dreams.

I have attempted to restrain these sentiments, attempting to confine them within the chambers of my heart. Alas, their potency has surpassed all expectations. It is incredibly foolish and juvenile, I admit, but I cannot help but succumb to envy as I witness your interactions with others, fervently wishing to be the recipient of your attention. I long to be the one who witnesses your most radiant smiles, the one you rely on during your darkest hours, and the one who lingers in your thoughts when you smile so lovingly.

Yet, I must confess that this affection, while bringing me moments of incredible joy, has also become the source of my deepest torment. The perplexity of our relationship and the ambiguity of your feelings continue to elude me, and perhaps foolishly, I wish to put an end to this.

If it is that you do not reciprocate my feelings, then please speak it once and I will never mention my affections again and no longer infringe on our friendship. But, if you do find them my feelings so imposing as I fear, then please take care and I shall distance myself from now on. And I sincerely apologize that I may no longer be considered as your friend.

And if, by some stroke of fate, you harbour affections for me as I do for you, then I beg of you to hasten to my side without delay. Allow me the privilege of holding you close, that I may envelop you in the embrace of my ardent affection.

Signed,

Your most ardent admirer

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[leonw4nter]

Hi🌸

I saw that you were accepting requests so I have one for you. How about bringing husband Leon to the reader's high school reunion? The reader is kind of happy to bring Leon to his old classmates but Leon is so handsome and all that your old acquaintances are wondering why your marriage happened in the first place.

I was thinking about Leon re4r or id, but you can choose anyone!🌸

A Playlist for My Dream High School Romance

Husband!ID!Leon x GN!Reader

Plain Jane: this is what you were in high school, though you didn’t really mind since there was more to being the most beautiful or the most outgoing in school. You always thought you dressed well; not the most fashionable but enough to look decent for school. You also looked fine, not too ugly or too beautiful with the round red framed glasses on your face. The lack of romantic experiences in high school sometimes bothered you but you didn’t mind it overall; you’ve seen the drama of high school romance in your classmates and ultimately decided that staying single is the best option for now… though sometimes you envied it when girls received flowers from their boyfriends or when you saw couples fill out the dance floor and slow danced during the prom. As a dramatic teen, you wailed to your pillow about how you’d never find the love of your life because you were too boring and how you’d always be the third wheel for every couple you’ll meet– hell, you were even confessed to because the boy was double-dog-dared to! You swore that you were destined to only daydream about falling in love with the man of your dreams, dancing under the rain or receiving carnival prices only scenarios that unfolded while you’re fast asleep.

Little did they know, they’d have the maker of their dreams to wake up to in the future; scenes ripped out of a romance novel were no longer bound within the confines of dreams. Leon was more than you’d asked for in the best way possible; he is more than just the beautiful combination of blond and blue, no. The first time you saw him, you thought he looked perfect, the epitome of beauty and charm. As you two got closer and he let you into his life and laid bare his scars for you, you saw that he is not a perfect man– far from it actually– yet you still loved him, maybe even more and much fiercely. You understood and listened to all his stories, accepted him for how he is, the same way he did with you.

Leon’s wedding ring momentarily flashed a bright gold as sunlight reflected from the band, his hands on the wheel as he drove you to your high school. A little nervous was an understatement for how antsy you’re feeling, though you found it stupid to feel this way since these people somewhat remember you and you’re just visiting the school– you literally went to this school for four years and managed to survive each time. Leon stopped the car at a red light, upbeat pop music playing faintly on the radio. He turned to look at you and saw you bouncing your leg, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you stared out on the road. You snapped out of the negative flurry of thoughts troubling you, jerking slightly as you felt Leon’s large hand on your shoulder.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Leon says as he sees you mentally pop back into the car with him. “You okay?”

You nod, giving him a half-smile as you place a hand on top of his that was perched on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you say. Just before you could let Leon say another word, you decide to speak up about whatever was bugging you.

“It’s a little stupid, I know. I mean– I went to school with most of these people for about 4 years and managed to do just fine. God, it’s silly of me to be nervous–”

“Hey,” Leon softly interrupts. “It’s only natural for you to be nervous about this. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen them and you’re expecting change in how they act and look and you’re not sure in what way they’ve changed.”

“Yeah that too but… you know, what if I’m like– too boring again?”

“Too boring?” Leon says in a confused yet gentle tone. “Honey, you’re not ‘too boring’ and if they think so then they can buzz off.”

Leon’s words caused some confidence to stir within you, feeling a little better about yourself. This isn’t like high school anymore. You got this! You got this!

Since the red light switched to green, Leon had to withdraw his hand from your shoulder and put it on the brake handle for the car to start moving again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If someone’s bothering you, just yelp and I’ll beat them up.” Leon joked.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After a few minutes of Leon driving and hyping yourself up some more, he finally arrives at the school and pulls up into the parking lot. After a few moments of choosing the perfect spot to park, he gets out of the car first in order to open the door for you, which you thanked him for.

You two walked into the entrance and you looked around. Not a lot has changed, not even the color of the paint on the walls though you realized that they probably gave it a fresh coat since it looked much more vibrant than what your memory told you to expect. The lockers were still where they were when you still went to this school but they no longer had the scratched paint and rusting locks, along with the residue of glue from stickers that had been forcefully peeled off.

“Silverlake High School’s Silver Archers,” Leon quietly mutters to himself. “Your school’s mascot is an archer?”

“Yeah. Though we didn’t have an archery club, which I found kinda silly,” you respond.

Leon hums and continues to look at the trophy case, occasionally reading some things out loud.

“Honey look,” Leon says. “I found you!”

He points to a small picture in the case; it was you with your ratty old glasses and a silver medal around your neck, a small trophy on your hands along with some flowers. You lit up as you looked at that image, the memory clear as day; you had won second place in the inter-school extemporaneous speech competition with other neighboring high schools. You shared this fact with Leon, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline as he looked at you and then the case and back to you again, thoroughly impressed.

“I wifed up a genius,” Leon exclaims. “So you managed to win a competition where they asked the world’s most pressing questions and only gave you a minute to compose your answer in front of everybody? And you had to make sure that your answer would fit in 6 minutes? God you’re so cool.”

You giggled a little bit at that, suddenly feeling like the coolest person in this entire Earth. You thought that this win is truly a feat but these facts coming from Leon’s mouth? Your husband saying it? It was as if you were doing his job, saving the world and fighting off the stuff of nightmares with a pistol; it sounded even more impressive coming from him. Now, he was taking his phone out to take pictures of the other awards you’ve won that were displayed on the case.

“Leon, we gotta hurry. The reunion might’ve started already!”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Luckily, you two made it on time. Like magic, you were less anxious compared to earlier and managed to find the courage to even greet some of your classmates. Leon was proud that you were breaking out of your shell to greet them, really feeling it with each laugh and conversation shared with some old acquaintances.

“Oh? Who’s that? He’s hot,” your classmate asks. “Never seen him around before. I wonder if he’s single.”

You turn around to where she’s pointing, only to see that she was pointing at Leon. Your husband. Oh he sure as hell isn’t single.

“Oh him? He’s Leon. My husband,” you say. You weren’t one to get jealous but to hear your classmate call Leon ‘hot’ and wonder if he’s single triggered a reaction out of you.

She looked surprised, looking back at you and then him and back at you again like a deer in headlights.

“Wait… really? Like you’re really married?” she asked and it didn’t sound like she was ready to ask how you two met; she sounded like she wanted to know how someone like him could marry someone like you.

“Yeah, I can make a quick run to the court right now for a copy of our marriage certificate,” you half-joke in order to hide the growing feeling of hurt.

“Uh, haha…,” she mumbles. “He’s everything actually- like he’s really good eye-candy. You’re lucky he chose you, you know.”

“I’m lucky he chose me? What do you mean by that.” you say.

“What do you mean?” She asks, oblivious to the fact on how mean that sounded. Or maybe she was just playing oblivious.

“Nevermind.”

You retreat from the group walking up to Leon and watch people socialize. Before he can even ask, the emcee for the reunion calls everyone’s attention and says some words but even the volume of that loud-ass mic was not enough to drown out the doubt swirling on your mind. You’re only pulled out of your thoughts when you hear her voice again, this time talking to other people about how shocked she is that you’re married to him, out of all people. The plain Jane married to the absolute 10 she’s ever seen and how it’s a little comical to look at when there could’ve been much hotter women. You also hate how she keeps glancing back at him and giggling, not even sparing a glance at you.

“That woman cannot stop looking at me,” Leon whispers to you as he subtly motions to her.

“Her? Yeah, she called you ‘hot’ and ‘eye-candy’. She’s a little surprised to find out that you’re married to me,” you moodily mumble.

“Why is she surprised?,” he asks.

“Well, look at me and then look at you. You’re good-looking. Really good looking and I’m just here. To them, it would be more believable if you married some model or something. It’s like an ‘oh my god how did this marriage even happen’ moment.”

Leon looks at them, trained eyes staring them down for a solid few moments before turning his gaze back to you. “Well I kind of looked at me and then now I’m looking at you and I think you’re good-looking. Like really good-looking. I have a strong, intelligent, and independent person in front of me and I don’t think they need me but they still let me into their life. Yeah, I’m also having a ‘how did this marriage even happen’ moment’ because how did I get so lucky that out of all the people in this world, you fell in love with me and trusted the rest of your life and the lives after this to be spent with someone like me?”, he finishes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world; he probably doesn’t need to look at the night sky in order to admire the stars when you have them in your eyes. The world just melted away into background noise, witness to the genuine love and loyalty Leon yields for you.

NOTE - Finally got to finish another request, a few more to go so just wait for that :)) I love being on break, can't wait for the summer break so I get to write some more (currently on a week-long break after exams, hopefully i passed with high scores on all exams!!). ALSO IT'S RE4R'S 1ST YEAR ANNIVERSARY WHERE I'M FROM LETS GOOOOO RAAAHHHHH 💪💪🔥🔥 I also got resident evil and dmc shirts I begged my mom for (she had no choice but to say yes /hj). Also I'm starting an AO3 account for devil may cry fics, if anyone's interested ;) That's all and thank you for reading my fics, esp to the anon who requested this- I hope you I lived up to your expectations <33 I <33333 UUUUUUUU

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[calangkoh]

homunculi being failed human transmutations was the most baller story change decision the fma03 team made and they milked the hell out of that concept. you got the theme of what makes you human (memories? presence of a soul? what does that even mean?) that ties in with al’s identity crisis (that didn’t really make sense in mangahood but was built up and thematically rich in 03), you got the drama of alchemists having to face a distorted version of the loved one they tried to bring back (the best version of Came Back Wrong ive ever seen), you got the concept that a person is so much more than just your own idea of them and bringing them back through human transmutation really only brings back a one-dimensional version of them (how each homunculus was only really the version of that person the alchemist had in their head, and not a full person themselves, and each reacted to this fact differently), you get the existential crisis all of this gives you when you consider what makes you YOU and how do you prove your own humanity and memories and identity, you get the characters of the homunculi like envy and lust who were given so much more depth than their mangahood counterparts, and AAAAAAA its just so good and if we can give fma 03 ANYTHING that’s objectively better/more interesting than mangahood’s plot (which i normally say is overall objectively a better written and more cohesive story) i 100% believe its this change from the manga

[ransprang]

Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (Let me do it for you)

Studying alongside Coriolanus, you had to put in all the extra hard work to keep up. You wanted to excel, but he was trained to win. Before Sejanus’s fortune he was on his own, striving for the scholarship. Even now after he had got it all, a goal to work towards, he stayed at his best, he never wanted to be at a place mercy ever again. You were at awe at all this ambition but it always put you at a place behind him, you were second. It was not enough, you wanted to be ahead if not eye to eye with Coriolanus.

As you to approached the final year of university and the preparations began for the yearly Hunger Games, Dr Gaul put Corio in charge of making it extravagant, the best yet. Especially approaching graduation it was his time to shine, to take the torch of his predecessors. He was more than happy to do so, to prove himself and achieve his full potential. But, you were left behind, there were many tasks given to you too, but it just never felt enough. You had everyone’s respect, Dr Gaul always knew of your ambition. She took a sadistic pleasure in watching you try harder as she gave Corio the opportunities before your eyes.

One day as you prepared the logistics, planned the map and weapons for the new arena, your classmate ran to you with a summon from the Doctor. You ran to her room, as she paced her lab, “y/n I’ll give it to you.” You raised an eyebrow replying “what exactly?” Dr Gaul snickered “exactly what you want.” A part of you lit up, you never hid your intentions to achieve power and climb the hierarchy but was she really about to give it to you? You simply wanted her to say it out loud. Dr Gaul looked up with a slight smile “organise it alongside Coriolanus. You will give exactly your 50%, it’s your final semester project with him.” Your eyes twinkled as you held your head higher, chest puffed with pride “This year’s games will bring glory to the capital,” as you turned around and walked out of the room.

Later in the day you found Coriolanus, you were dressed in a smart red pencil dress. Hair neatly combed, in a braid, as you said with weight in your voice “please run me through what is done so far and I’ll give you the logistical report.” Corio looked cautious, he was paranoid. His plans, his glory, he wondered why he had to split his power, were you here to foil all his plans? But this didn’t matter, he had to graduate, and he was not going to fuck it up especially if the government thought you important enough to be sharing the work.

Coriolanus respectfully told you about the concept he was working on, the camera placements and sponsors. You listened to him carefully, hearing the enthusiasm and passion in his voice, bordering mania. He suddenly stopped dictating as he got quieter “we must intervene if we have to, change the course of things to get as many viewers y/n,” he raised an eyebrow. You gave him a smirk “couldn’t agree more, the capital must have its yearly entertainment, there should be blood, drama, love, and heartbreak. Even if we need to…” you stopped, biting your tongue. Coriolanus walked closer, curiosity brimming his face “If we need to what y/n?” He asked sternly, demanding a reply. He hated mystery. You looked at him pursing your lips, finding semblance and command in your voice “If we need to cheat, Corio.” You could see the iris in Corio’s bright blue eyes widen, the shock in his expression, it almost looked pleasant. “We shall tell no one,” Corio said stepping back, you could see a small smile. Both of you knew Dr Gaul didn’t mind, ends justify the means after all.

Both your minds combined, you and Coriolanus stood at the the head of the room announcing the start of the Hunger Games ceremony before the referee took over. Wearing your best dress, Corio was all suited up as you two walked back to your assigned seating with all your classmates clapping and eyeing you both down with envy.

The games began and so did the trouble. The tributes ran to get the weapons but only a few turned on one another the rest stood put. A pre planned protest, yet a powerful one. Everyone was at the edge of the seat, waiting to see further developments. The committee members exchanged glances, a sense of urgency in the air. The referree stunned “I guess they are standing still as to not splash the split blood,” becoming the only one to laugh at his flat joke.

You were scared, worried as to what to do when you looked at Coriolanus he was already looking at you with a similar look in his eyes. He made his way over to you “y/n we must do something about this.” He held your hand by the wrist tightly dragging you outside the surveillance hall, just as a peacemaker appeared with a message from the higher ups “you two have 2 hours to fix this, or you will be dealt with personally by the university board.” Corio was worked up, his hair a mess, he sat on a bench defeated. You turned to him, cupping his face in a moment of passion “Corio I have an idea, but you have to help me.” Hearing those words, and being fueled with hope once more he stood up tall and leant in for a kiss. You grabbed his hair as you two made out outside the door. You two pulled away “we don’t have time, but we need to get the families of the tributes under our control. We must tell them to urge the contestants to fight.” Coriolanus understood exactly what you meant, you both parted ways, as he sent out orders to all the peacemakers in the different districts to round up the families quickly. You asked the committee to organise mics for the family members and had them connected to the speakers inside the arena. Within an hour the family members were ready to talk, they begged the tributes to fight, informing them of the dire consequences. Corio pleaded Dr Gaul to erase the footage of these announcements.

You and Coriolanus returned to the surveillance hall, disheveled. Standing there you two were desperate to see the result of your scheme, the footage began from when the tributes stood straight with their weapons to now running across the arena attacking and hacking to win, with all the events in the middle erased. The whole room began clapping, and watching excitedly. The Hunger games were back on.

You and Corio exchanged glances, a twinkle in your eyes. As the games came to an end you two walked to each other as he pulled you in for a tight hug, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in celebration. You two had graduated. Dr Gaul looked proud near the gate, who knew she had been a match maker as well. As you and Coriolanus pulled away from the hug, you pressed your lips against his, giving him a smooch. Corio smiled “you will work alongside me y/n, never out of my sight,” he said with conviction. Your heart beat faster, but before you could reply, all your classmates flocked around to wish congratulations.

Later in the evening Coriolanus sent a letter through a classmate which invited you for dinner, at his place. You were glowing from the victory, you hopped up on your feet to decide on a dress. Getting ready for a date, with a man you’ve always competed with, now you shared the win with him. You wanted to be at your best tonight, spending a little extra time on yourself you arriving a whopping 30 minutes late.

You walked into his house, the lights were dimmed, a table before you was set up with food, and a candle. Coriolanus was sitting on one end staring deep into the burning flame, you stepped forward in your heels as you called out “Corio?” But, he didn’t move. Puzzled you walked closer “Coriolanus? I’m here.” He still didn’t respond, just started at the flame in a trance. Just as it caught your eye, a broken wine glass beside him. His hand was tightly in a fist, with a piece of glass pressed through his palm and blood dripping down. You gasped “Corio?! Are you okay?!” Running to touch his hand, he finally moved retracting his arm. You saw the whites of his eyes were red like a bull, he then stood up, and breathed heavy “where were you?” Corio demanded an answer. Shocked at the situation “I was at home.” He snickered “Tell me y/n where were you?” You argued back getting annoyed “As I said, I was at home getting ready.” Corio paced closer “You live 10 minutes away from me, what makes you 30 late? WHY? what were you doing?” Tears brimming your eyes, but you could feel the heat of anger rise from the pits of your belly. You picked up the fork nearby, ready to stab the man before you, he caught your wrist. “You dare attack me. You want to kill me?”, you stepped back getting a little scared you asked “Do you want to kill me…?” You both went silent. The sound of heavy breathing filled the air, either of you scared to make a move.

The door to the room behind the hall opened, breaking the tension, Coriolanus’s grandmaa stepped out, a horrified expression donned on her face. “Are you two insane?” She questioned innocently. Corio’s eyes widened, you looked baffled searching for an answer as she spoke again “I was hoping for my handsome boy to have a nice cute date. What happened here? Please fix it, I will have none of this in my house.” As she turned and went back into her room leaving you two alone.

You looked at Coriolanus, as he gathered himself and tried to look composed. You cleared your throat as you looked for a first aid box nearby trying to forget what just happened. You sat him down on the couch as you patched up his hand, you both caught each other’s eyes. Getting lost in their depths, realising the amount of love between you two and what fools you had been. Corio leaned into a kiss, slowly biting your lip lovingly, yet felt like a slight punishment for being late. You smiled as you retaliated by dominating his tongue with yours to assert yourself. He wrapped you in his arms pressed your chest against his, as you further pushed yourself making him fall back on the couch with you on top. He held you by the waist as you kissed him while straddling. Coriolanus used his strength to flip you around to be beneath him, he positioned himself between your legs, dry humping you while kissing you deeply. You wrapped your legs around him, as you moved your hips with his rhythm, rubbing your wet panties against the hard buldge in his pants.

He pulled away, to take a deep breath and take off his shirt and unbutton his pants, as you helped him pull them down. He roughly you pushed you back on the sofa, harshly pulling aside your panties exposing your wet cunt to him. He ripped them off, leaving a red bruise at the waist line of where the panty had been. You moaned at the pain, as you dug your nails deep into his back leaving marks in return. He then pulled off your dress leaving you completely exposed to him. Coriolanus used his hand to guide his hard cock to rub the folds of your pussy, using his tip to play with your clit, he smacked his cock against your pussy. Watching you roll back your head and moan his name. He then pushed his tip inside your entrance, slowly moving his hips back and forth till the penis was completely inside you till his base. He leaned on top of you as your chests touched he began sucking on your neck. He thrusted in you as you moved yourself, to increase the speed. He was stretching you out , as you let your fingers get tangled in his hair, you guided his lips to your mouth. He grunted and groaned in your mouth as he got faster and as you reached climax you arched your back into him, pulling away from the kiss your let out his name releasing your fluids around his cock deep inside of you. Coriolanus pushed himself deep till you could feel his balls against your skin, he gritted his teeth together as he pumped you up with his cum. He finally exhaled, as he collapsed ontop of you, you softly hugged him closing your eyes and pressing your face in the crook of his neck. He too turned to face you, taking you into an embrace, as his cock was still inside you and your legs wrapped around. You two were tangled up together, resting.

Grandmaa Snow drank her tea in bed as she smiled to herself

your grandmaa,

admin sav

[datlokibumtho]

Ed: "Hold your horses."

Envy: "I don't have any horses."

Ed: "It means calm down."

Envy: "I can't. My horses are gone."

[thisonehere]

hello, ello !! can i pretty please request for some childhood headcanons of the Lin Kuei Brothers? (Bi-Han, Kuai Liang & Tomas.) Fluff, of course !!! Thankies !!

Childhood drama and nightmares

A/n: Omg, this sounds so cute!!! 🥺 I hope you don't mind, I added a little bit of angst for Tomas's part, give the fact that his family was murdered, I thought that might've needed to be addressed first before got to the fluffy stuff. Okay, that all❤️

Tags: Mk1, MK AU, fluff, request

C/w: none.

Bi-Han

He didn't like you. That's at least what he wanted you to think. He was a cold and harsh person even when he was a child. A lot of pressure was put at such a young age.

The Lin Kuei were harsh in raising it's warriors, it was even harder to him than ks to the fact that he was was to inherit the role of Grandmaster some day. This caused him to develop quite a hard shell.

He had a soft side, but that was reserved for his brother, Kuai, and sometimes Tomas, it really depended on how he felt that day. He was scared to share this with anyone else, he thought he was able seen as weak and he was not weak.

So he never hesitated to put others down and hurt them with his words. You, unfortunately, were one of them.

Everyday without fail Bi-Han would find a way to put you down, either by mocking you or berating, whatever would work to hurt you.

But truthfully, Bi-Han admired you. You were kind, everyone loved you, no one judged you, he envied that. He tried to ignore your charming nature, but your warm disposition slowly melted away his icy cold shell.

He sees how good you and his brother get along and he gets jealous. He wants that, he wants to be able to talk to you the way he does, be near you the way he does, male you laugh the way he does.

You notice the strange way he looks at you two whenever you and Kuai are together. Like he can't seem to make up his mind on whether he wants to join in or attack Kuai. When you inquire about that then get gets very defensive.

He got very defensive a lot of times around you a lot of times. You were inching in closer into his heart and that scarf him. You made a part of him melt, you grew on him, he...liked you. But don't let anyone know he feels this way or he'll break your face!

Kuai Liang

The most loved of the Lin Kuei, the golden boy. Kuai Liang had a light around him that made people just adore him. You were different. If you didn't like him before, he charmed you with a bright smile and friendly attitude.

Though the Lin Kuei were harsh on him, he never lost his smile. You loved his smile. Who wouldn't love his smile? (probably Bi-Han)

You were close, Kaoi always macking sure you were seen, that you included even when the other kids didn't want you to be. He stuck for you many times against bullies. Either he'd use his family name to intimidate them or just beat them up for you.

You always appreciated how much he looked out for you. Though you couldn't help but wonder whether they did it because he was just a good soul or because he might have likd you.

Kuai always spooked you with love so you couldn't tell if it was out of friendship or some stupid little childhood crush he has done you. You couldn't tell. But if Kuai did have a crush on you, he'd tell you...right?

Anyway, Kuai was always thoughtful when it came to you. He'd bring you smack he remembered you said you liked, give his toys to you even though he really liked them, eyc. He really liked you, so he was willing to go the extra mile for you.

You two would talk about what you'd do when you were grown up. Kuai didn't exactly do what he wanted to be, but he did know that he wanted dall four of you to be together and friends for ever. And that would surely happen, right?

...right?

Tomas

A shy kid and an outsider, Tomas didn't fit in much. Thanks to the death of his mother and sister, Tomas couldn't be a normal kid. He was too traumatized to ever act normally again. That's why you and Kuai always made an effort to be there for him.

He was quiet and always soft to the corner. Whenever he did speak it was in a soft spoken voice. Unsure of itself with every word. He was so fragile that sometimes you were worried he'd be at the break of tears.

Tomas was so hard to be consoled when he broke down. Too scared to let someone get that close to him else they'd be taken away from his just like his family.

But somehow, you always managed to calm him down. You had that special touch, you were able to get to him where many others failed. He'd cry in your arms and he'd feel better afterwards. You'd find a way to cheer him up, either by telling a joke, reminiscing an old story,or just holding him.

You were with him most of the time. Bi-Han was cold to you, Kuai and you were close, but you and Kuai just seemed to have clicked much more compared to him. But that's okay, the three of you still hung out, Kuai led while you two followed.

Whenever Toma was bullied you'd be the first to rise to his defense. Threatening to do terrible things to them if they didn't leave Tomas alone. You would especially be very violently defensive if it was Bi-Han, what was his problem anyway?

There was a chance that you two liked each other. You always looked at each other's sort of lovey dovey stare. But this way slept between the two of you, if you did have feelings for each other, none of you spoke up so no one knew. But one thing was known: you'd be together till the end.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Well let's fuck around and find out 🤭😉

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Pile One

This could be someone who's a friend that you need to cut off or someone who you've already cut off. I would say that this is a parent, but this is looking like someone who has this false sense of authority over people and in general isn't a good person to be around. I'm getting this image of someone hiding in the shadows who comes out at just the right time at the right place to make a move on you. The parental energy that I'm picking up on could relate to one of their negative traits, which is analyzing voids that you could have internally. It could seem like they're fulfilling you emotionally, but really this is deception that they use against you later. Affection, validation, or someone who listens is what could they hold above your head to convince you that you need them or that they hold the answers to how you should live your life. This person fucked around trying to gain control over you and now they're finding out that you're no one's puppet and that you're strong enough to both walk away and wake up from the trance that you don't have any glamour. Or this could be someone who was very delusional thinking that walking away from you would make your life halt, but there's light being shed on just how powerful your magnetism actually is. They walked away just to come back to watch how you're flourishing and still gaining attention from unapologetically being you, they see you birthing abundance in your life, they realize how your originality is undeniable, if your presence on social media is public, they could be lurking and taking notes on the shine that you vibrate effortlessly. Pile One you're the blueprint, baby!

Pile Two

This is an opportunist who is a friend to no one but themselves. Their concept of loyalty is that they're ok with you giving it unconditionally to them, but theirs has terms and conditions, and they're strongly offended when you reflect their way of thinking by withdrawing your loyalty. This is someone who is constantly in some drama, never has their priorities together, and if you dare suggest what they could do to help themselves, they'll give an excuse for why they don't want to do the things that will bring stability to them or at least reduce the trouble that they get into. An overall immature person. This could also be someone you work with or had a partnership with, there's envy and jealousy that they have over you and instead of working on their feelings, they'd rather do something slick behind your back to to to make sense of the animosity they have for you. This is someone who doesn't play fair and see things as deep enough for them to sabotage you. They fucked around and found out about how karma and your guides don't play about you. They overestimated their reign of how much they could overstep and they're in a position now to where they can't weasel their way out of the consequences. The theme here is a loss of security. Their self-grandeur is withering away to a lack of confidence, they could have lost their job or are severely losing momentum in getting ahead in their life. It's like their tricks are no longer working and how they tried to stagnate others has now blocked their own blessings because they're incapable of moving forward. This person has to get out of having this main character syndrome, their inability to be a team-player by supporting others or clapping for others has left them in a pit of the same cycles that they thought they could take shortcuts out of whether it be understanding how immoral it is to use others or learning that trying to knock someone down doesn't truly elevate them from their insecurities.

Pile Three

This person could have you on their mind a lot or you show up in their dreams frequently. This could be a love interest from the past or someone who you've used to talk to on an almost daily basis. You could have helped them in some way or there was something in this connection that they may have tried to downplay or had trouble understanding. I'm getting that they fucked around and found out about your effect on them which is someone who they'll never forget lol. I'm also getting that this could be someone who you're currently talking to who underestimated the feelings that they get when they're around you, or how much you positivity you bring in their life. However, this really does give a chaser and runner type dynamic, where you were eventually the chaser and now they're the runner. If this is a past person, this is someone who misses you dearly, and may have fumbled in the beginning of you two parting ways with each other, by pretending and overcomenpensating the facade of someone who has "moved on". For some people, this could be ex-friends or family members who are deeply feeling the downsides of your absence but are too prideful to apologize to you or tell you that they miss you and would like you back in their lives.

[crooked-wasteland]

An SA Survivor's Reading of Stolitz

I don't believe that creators should be confined to telling one type of story. The beauty of fiction is to explore worlds, emotions and scenarios that are by definition unreal. It gives a safe space to interact with extremes that we would never necessarily wish to experience in our real lives with the ultimate safeword of no longer engaging with the material.

That being said, as creators, there is an ethical awareness that must be maintained in order to tell stories of things like trauma and abuse. Being alone in a cabin in the woods with a killer, that scenario is not a pervasive subculture in our society. Whereas cases of child abuse, sexual and domestic abuse are not only real, but common. And the complexities of psychological damage that perseveres long after the traumatic events are necessary aspects to telling these stories.

If you are not consciously aware and attentive to the lasting impact these events have, you run up against the horrific possibility of retraumatizing an individual unprepared for the callous invalidation of their experience.

No one should ever be shamed for engaging with media that depicts trauma they themselves may have experienced. For many, engaging in the fiction of it is a way of processing and validating their experience. Frankly saying, if you wish to write about trauma at all, you should be writing for that audience in specific. Otherwise you are simply exploiting the horrors that real people live through and struggle with every day for some cheap drama at the risk of triggering someone whose story you are inadvertently telling.

And much like most therapy speak, the term Triggered has become appropriated and misused to the point of losing all meaning in the lexicon. According to the University of North Carolina, "A trigger is a stimulus that elicits a reaction. In the context of mental illness, "trigger" is often used to mean something that brings on or worsens symptoms. This often happens to people with a history of trauma or who are recovering from mental illness, self-harm, addiction, and/or eating disorders."

The university breaks down the types of triggers as well and gives examples as to what those subcategories mean. I highly recommend that even if you are not the sort to follow up on references, I do recommend going over the article. It offers coping suggestions as well for those who are at risk of becoming triggered and helps refocus the sense of control back to the individual.

With that said, this is where I came across the inspiration for this essay. I completely removed all information for this user because the last thing someone needs when expressing how the misappropriation of abuse triggers them is how it is their fault for being triggered. These are the original tweets this response was in reference to.

As such, I feel the empathetic need to write this essay as a sympathetic reading to this person and others who have experienced SA who find that Stolitz resonates in an undesirable and even harmful way. I think this person deserves to feel seen.

To make the argument that the relationship between Stolas and Blitz isn't fundamentally abusive requires an author-intent reading of the series. It necessitates massive leaps to fill in gaping plot holes that never clarify the story Medrano is intending to tell. This is plainly just a reading of the series as is with all the context that has been physically, actually, shown in the series and that alone.

Throughout the series, Blitz is depicted as emotionally volatile and unpredictable with low self-esteem and crippling loneliness. He is constantly hounding his employees through sexual harassment from a sense of envy over their loving relationship, and infantalizes his twenty-two year old adopted daughter through an abusive dynamic where she ranges from rude to outrightly cruel while he consistently sacrifices any personal boundaries and self-respect.

The relationship between Loona and Blitz in specific feels like a masochistic self-hatred on Blitz's part where he allows himself to be used and abused by a parasitic family member to feel wanted, showing a pure desperation to be desired by someone in any way. Loona is verbally and physically abusive to her adopted father, using terms of endearment like "Dad" as a tactic to control Blitz's behavior, rewarding him when he does something for her benefit and taking it away when she deems him embarrassing or unwanted.

Blitz's tie to Stolas in the main story comes when he is called in a vulnerable time. Hiding from Martha who is hunting him down, he explicitly tells Stolas that now is not a good time to call. Stolas, who has a visual of Blitz's situation, ignores all of it. He is unconcerned about the danger Blitz is in, instead viewing Blitz solely as a sexual object as he offers the trade of the book for sex.

Stolas is more keenly aware of Blitz's situation than even Blitz is aware of. He not only is told that the current moment is not a good time, and Blitz's tense tone portrays a sense of anxiety, but he can physically see Blitz. It exists entirely within reason that he chose this specific moment to call while he knew Blitz was in a difficult position, using the tension to leverage a quick response that would get Stolas his way without needing to intimidate Blitz himself. Using the threat of a third party to pressure compliance from Blitz.

Come Loo Loo Land, the interactions between Blitz and Stolas are simply outright hostile. Blitz actively does not want to have a sexual encounter with Stolas and is even so untrusting of the Goetia that he is repeatedly asserting the boundary that he is not at all interested in sex, which Stolas explicitly mocks by being openly sexually suggestive to him. Everything Stolas has to say to Blitz is steeped in objectified sexuality as Blitz asserts his person, dehumanizing him to the point that Blitz is first and foremost an object of gratification. Even to the point of neglecting and humiliating his daughter, Stolas uses the excuse of spending time with her as a means of leering on Blitz.

In this episode we see Blitz has a history of being overlooked and unappreciated. His act in Loo Loo Land went nowhere and we see the first hints of his failed performance career. Over the course of the series, this hint towards a crippling lack of self esteem masked by an extroverted exterior is reinforced.

In Harvest Moon, Blitz is genuinely flustered when given recognition by Striker. He is quick to devalue his relationship with Stolas because there genuinely isn't a relationship at this point.

After having gone missing for two episodes, Stolas returns, being slightly less sexual and slightly more affectionate. It is a sudden recharacterization, but it is only for this scene. The rest of the episode once again shows how Stolas values Blitz physically in a sexualized manner and claims Blitz through the use of a pet name he repeatedly requests not to be called. In the opening scene, Blitz vocalizes that he "doesn't mind" their arrangement for the book, which could be taken at face value in regards to the first season. He does have the option to reject the agreement at any time and return the book in the context of this episode. It's why, despite still being an abuse of power dynamics overall, the relationship itself doesn't tip over into abuse. Blitz has the same amount of autonomy as Stolas at this time, before the context of season two, he has just as much power to end the agreement.

With the addition of The Circus, this retroactively is a situation of placating one's abuser. Blitz assuring Stolas that he doesn't mind the sex would be a way of asserting Stolas' complete control over the relationship and that Blitz isn't necessarily threatening the status quo by his question.

They don't actually know anything about each other, they aren't friends and don't spend time together outside of their forced meetings. Blitz doesn't know anything about Stolas and questioning the need Stolas has for his book could very well be read as a means of interrogating the agreement as a whole and figuring out why this was the arrangement.

(The argument that Blitz had any opportunity to negotiate things comes from an audience bias. It is probably the dumbest thing I have ever seen put into writing. Blitz doesn't know that he has any leverage in the relationship at all. He doesn't actually know Stolas has any feelings for him. That's kind of the whole point of the hot and cold romance slant that Medrano is trying to replicate.)

This is because the book is not the reason the relationship exists.

Blitz does not instigate sexual conduct, Stolas does by leading Blitz into a private room and locking them both inside with the impression Blitz would have sex with him. Blitz has no choice in the location or the isolation. He was caught trying to illegally break into the home for the explicit purpose of stealing the book. He was caught and is effectively at Stolas' mercy in every sense of the word. Not only is he still alive due to Stolas' whimsy, but if he tries to escape now after being shown this grace he could risk having the guards hunt him down and the second time will most likely not be so kind.

He literally does not know Stolas. They met for a day as a playdate and Blitz spent the whole time manipulating Stolas into facilitating his own robbery. There is no trust between them, there isn't even a relationship. While the doe-eyed pink vignette animated around Blitz shows that Stolas has an attraction to him, Blitz is entirely in the dark about this. Stolas' behavior is merely unpredictable and precarious from his position and limited knowledge.

(Just a side note, the argument that because someone decides to do something must mean they are not afraid is just asinine. Generally speaking, most people who commit crimes are in a state of fight or flight, it is more akin to gambling your actual life. Its a rewards and risks assessment, not a case of being sociopathically unafraid.)

It isn't until Stolas dramatically announces his desire for sex that Blitz realizes he has something that can be used to distract the Prince while he steals the book. And that's the issue with the argument that Blitz is the one willingly escalating the situation: it's not sincere. Throughout the entire sequence, Blitz isn't once sincerely interested in Stolas. He leans into the pretense to gain control of the situation, of which, might I remind you, he has had zero control over up to this point. Not only is he not interested in Stolas, but this is a bid for control from the position of helplessness. This way he is not relying on Stolas' unpredictable behavior, he is reclaiming power in the dynamic by playing into Stolas' desire.

("But Stolas says nevermind and Blitz keeps going!!"

Yeah, because he needs to maintain control of the situation. This is what power dynamics actually look like; there is a two-way push and pull. The only way he has any power is through the lens of sexuality. He needs to keep Stolas interested in him to keep his position. But throughout the scene, he is explicitly depicted as being put off by Stolas. In fact the entire reason he ties Stolas up is because he was becoming too into the act. He is shown to not be sensually performing bondage, he is trying to remove a problem.

And side-side note, I know I said I wouldn't lean into Medrano's intention or explicit dictation on how she demands her show be interpreted, but she was the one who said that The Circus and Loo Loo Land are connected in the timeline and Blitz's hostility in Loo Loo Land reads far more like a man who feels used and taken advantage of. So even the argument that Blitz was an enthusiastic participant is disproven by Medrano's own metacommentary and character interactions.)

And ultimately, it all boils down to that last moment scene. Between willingly having sex with Stolas when he is tied up or the book, Blitz makes for the door to leave. He doesn’t willingly engage in sex with Stolas. Either you can read the scene as a form of pity sex, which in the context of Medrano’s timeline and Loo Loo Land, shows Blitz was not enamored with the encounter or you have to read this as being manipulatively pressured into it. There is no way to argue Blitz has any leverage in the situation and no grounds to argue that it was mutually enjoyed.

That doesn’t even start to cover the fact that all the way to Ozzie’s, Blitz is repulsed by Stolas. When calling, he openly shows that this is something he would rather not be doing. He doesn’t have feelings for Stolas and despite just using the man who is using him, just having to deal with Stolas is distressing for him.

This is not an equal or fair relationship dynamic. It is not a mutual relationship. This is a relationship of self-preservation and coercion. And the fact is, it could have worked with very small changes to The Circus. Having the dynamic be actually mutual would have been a great start, but just properly addressing the actual dynamic and having Stolas take ownership of what he's done, and validating the fact that coercion is sexual abuse. Because out of all the sweeping changes, retcons and inconsistencies, the one aspect that has persevered throughout the show is just how trapped Blitz feels.

In Truth Seekers, Blitz’s hallucination is contradictory in its attempt to be visceral, and that is not inherently a problem. Trying to be abstract, it is normal for people to experience contradictory emotions over something. It makes sense in that way, but it needs reinforcement in the expanded narrative to tell it's story. As such I am just going to give my reading on the sequence based on my narrative and state it as fact.

The clown costume shows that Blitz sees himself as a joke, feeding into his low self-worth that no matter what he does, he is always the clown being laughed at. The murky wasteland is a reflection of his life. Devoid of anything bright or good, it is populated by dead trees and the ground is a quicksand like sludge, showing how he devours the good and extinguishes it in his own life. He kills his own happiness. Moxxie exists as a critical voice Blitz hears, telling him how stupid and awful he is to everyone around him. Blitz rejects his own self-criticism, reaffirming his self destructive victim mentality that appears when faced with the consequences of his own actions.

It's when the characters of Fizzarolli, Verosika and Striker appear that Blitz gives his regrets, insecurities and resentments voice, poorly impersonating the voices of those who saw the real him. Striker mocking Blitz’s need for companionship, how he lies to himself constantly and presents himself as independent and assured when really he sees himself as needy and pathetic.

Fizzarolli adds to it, pointing out Blitz’s failures to make it on his own, however this portion of the series should probably be considered non-canon as the newest episodes established that Fizzarolli and Blitz have not had any contact with each other since the accident. The more important line Fizzarolli says “You're going to die alone”, have been written out of the show. There would have been no time or place for Fizz to have ever spoken this to Blitz.

Then there is Verosika, who brings up Blitz’s self destructive tendencies, showing Blitz’s own abusive behaviors towards characters like Moxxie. It also suggests an explanation to why Blitz tolerates Loona, because her constant rejection of him contradicts his reactionary need to push others away, as well as feeds his self-flagillation.

It is when he endeavors to flee the reflections of the worst parts of himself that he runs into Stolas. Perched atop a pristine staircase of gold, being fanned by two silhouettes of Blitz. This shows the power imbalance in every way. Blitz doesn't even walk up the stairs, but crawls. Himself just a faceless accessory to Stolas’ desires, but everything he has intrinsically tied to the power Stolas' exerts over him. This is shown explicitly by the chains around his hands and neck, Stolas' reeling him in as he bears a grimace of reluctance. It is the most explicit representation of being trapped between two bad decisions. Either he is just the joke, the failure, the asshole, the stupid piece of shit, or he is the pet, the object, the toy. Stolas mentioning Blitz being "afraid to love" is less a suggestion that Blitz has any feelings for Stolas, but instead his psyche convincing himself that the relationship is not so exploitive. That he is not being dehumanized and abused, but on some messed up level he is being wanted and desired, which is better than the wastes below.

Maybe one could say that Blitz is being elevated out of his situation for how the feathers removed the costume and sludge, essentially wiping him clean of his worst self, providing a sense of safety. But he only has this opportunity because of Stolas, and it isn't free as shown by the feathers also becoming the chains binding him. Because at the end of the day, Stolas isn't the prize at the end of the climb to self actualization, the stairs belonged to him in the first place. To escape the horror-filled wasteland below, Blitz has to play by the rules of the owner of the stairs.

And ultimately, that isn't a story that is off-limits.

The Stolas apologist argument is why the depiction of this dynamic is triggering and harmful, not the fact that it exists in the media. Just owning the scenario and having Stolas acknowledge that he has sexually abused Blitz would have gone a long way. Instead, Medrano and the fandom have insistently represented this victim-blaming interpretation where Blitz is responsible for his own abuse. And that will never be okay. This goes all the way back to my "Not All Victims are Survivors" post. Blitz is the victim in this and his bad behaviour and own abusive actions directly correspond to the fact that he is a victim with a victim mindset. He actively lives in the middle of his abuse and has formed maladaptive strategies through manipulation, harassment, verbal abuse, and self harm. These do not remove his victim status. There is no such thing as a "Perfect Victim". And he should not have to be any sort of way in order to have that experience validated. And the issue that is at the heart of this show is that the narrative and the fanbase require a victim to be framed as delicate and hapless to circumstance with a soft and gentle personality to be a victim. To come out of abuse aggressive and harsh with sharp edges is framed as being less valid. But this outcome is normal and it's a difficult battle to work on oneself to feel safe again. It's absolutely a story worth telling.

But you first have to be interested in telling a story.

[lillysilvermoon]

Qualities of your SP

Hi everyone! Hope yall are doing great, as I promised the Tarot Reading who won was Qualities of your SP, but don't worry, tomorrow I'll post What June will bring to you? (College starts Monday so I'll do my very best to make 2 readings tomorrow and post What are your psychics abilities? In the middle of the week). NOW let's get into the reading!

Pile 1

The reading is about qualities but I feel someone need to kind know something about what its going on with them??? (This is totally NOT planned but it's what I'm feeling). See, this is for a VERY specific person, below y'all gonna see the characteristics but this message has to be given to someone about their SP so, if you don't feel it's for you just continue the reading to see their characteristics!!

Hum, okay. Right now they going through a very thought situation, there is something ending in their lives but they aren't accepting and this is just making everything awful - with ends comes new begins and opportunities, but since they aren't accepting they are stuck. The cards literally complete each other, 10 of swords talks about endings and the importance of them for new things, but they are so strongly holding on that they are turning down opportunities, and the sad is: they are regretting doing this.

They are a very gentle soul, with and because of the others cards, I fell like they are imbalanced with their feminine and masculine side.

(END OF THE MESSAGE)

They are kind, like arts in all forms, very creative too, they like to use all their senses. They like to enjoy the pleasures life has to offer.

4ofC is astrologically aassociated with the moon in cancer, this card carries a passive receptive energy (and since you got the Empress too they definitely have more of feminine energy).

They have very "Je ne sais quoi" that many envy, they mastered the art of looking effortless. They don't follow trends and honestly don't care about them, very laid back and chill and youthful energy. They eat what they want when they want and workout when they feel like it, they believe life is to short. Hmm okay wait, they have too a big masculine energy, but because of things they have gone through they can look careless is selfish, but they are actually very kind and gentle, you will feel safe with them.

This is a general reading so: for some of you this person can be extremely toxic, with victim mentality, prone to overreactions and drama. What I'm picking up is: they are is a bad place right now, but this isn't who they are. They are NOT bad, narcissistic is anything, but they have gone through a lot and aren't their best right now (I feel you SP has been very judged by others because I feel so protective over them it's crazy like, has this urgency to say how they aren't evil or bad they are just so... omg they don't even know they just feel miserable but they have a good, kind, gentle side and it's their true self).

(Sorry pile 1 but I feel this is what you were needing to see right now😞)

Signs: scorpio, pisces, libra, house number 2, Jupiter and venus placements.

Pile 2

Hi pile 2, let's get into your reading!

They have "the whole package". They are smart, funny, and physically attractive (whatever it is for you), very masculine energy (saturn) and this is a VERY major part of their identity because it's from a major Arcana (The World) - wow pile 2 you guys are so lucky 😍 -

They are definitely into self care and they take very good care not just of their body but of their souls too, they may be into meditation or yoga, tai chi chuan.

They can be in a career who have to travel a lot, very into teamwork and social friendly, practical and effective in communication, they like to share and talk about the things they do/products they use and recommend to theirs friends, they like team sports.

Definitely someone very kind and compassionate, great with children, can be a people pleaser sometimes (but since this is minor arcana I feel this isn't too much a part of their personality, but can happen!)

They doesn't have a big ego, it's the kind of person who make you feel like you are in this together, when romantically involved would make everything to make the relationship works.

This isn't for everyone but, for some here they can also be someone that makes you feel like they are hiding something or keeping a secret from you - for some this means that they are someone who likes to make surprises to you;

They can be someone obsessed over some part of they physical appearance and go to extremes to preserve it, like work out a lot, have a extreme diet or be obsessed with eat only healthy foods, very regimented skincare routine etc, may have trust issues, struggle with repressive emotions, be closed off, would benefit from therapy but probably aren't open to the idea

(At this point feel like this group is divided into a healthy person and someone who needs to do shadow work, talk to a professional and probably receive a HUGE hug)

Signs: moon, mercury, Mars (saints! definitely masculine energy), aries, aquarius and Taurus.

Pile 3

I got to say: you are my favorite pile, Gods your SP is just SO CUTE and wonderful. Honestly the healthiest one here (what's going on with people now day huh???). But let's get into your reading, shall we?

Omg I am SO EXCITED I'm sorry I just can, this SP is romantic and sensible and has a LOT of pieces energy; takes great care of the appearance and makes their health a priority, dress casually but you can tell they made some effort to look sharp, empathetic and compassionate, you probably won't see them judging others, emotionally balanced, unafraid of their masculine sides, they are daring and take risks - 100% would call you on a date without fear of a "no" - also they support their feminine side by embracing their emotions, will make you believe chivalry is still here, they make you feel charmed but not manipulated.

They are a very happy, zen and calmest person you will ever meet, they are very grateful and never takes anything for granted, their spirituality have a HUGE impact on their life, "big picture" thinkers, probably likes philosophy or have profound conversations and they may not reveal this in the beginning of the relationship, they may come off as very sophisticated or they can appear modest when in fact they are super wealthy, they tend to consume a very well-moderated diet, the like to enjoy the finer things in life but they don't tend to abuse substances or overuse. They are emotionally intelligent and know how to deal with their emotions in a very rational way, rarely loses their temper but definitely have healthy boundaries, have gratitude practices, they put a great deal of value in the amount of energy someone invests in their relationships and they are always nurturing quality relationships with others. May works in something family related, anything related to family including pet services. They are someone who makes you feel serenely content, you might make the happiest, most peaceful memories in your life with this person. Excellent parent and 100% spouse material.

Signs: cancer, scorpio, sagittarius, aries, moon, Neptune (pisces energy, Leo.

I am honestly very happy with this reading, took me more time but I loved - I study more about the tarot related to personality, was really fun and I loved put the theory in practice.

Hope y'all liked, see you in the next reading.

- Lia

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