#he just Doesn't Really Get It But Sure He Supposes

[viaviavie]

BLOT BATTLEMENT (100 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE)

in which he suffers watching you fawn over his overblotted copy who seems to be in love with you.

SUMMARY: after an experiment gone wrong, an overblotted clone of one of the victims has re-emerged. luckily for everyone, it's reasonably powerless and will eventually disappear. unluckily for him, the clone seems to reflect his true feelings towards you.

PAIRINGS: overblot gang x reader (seperately)

WARNINGS: suggestive (for jamil, vil, and idia), slight possibility of drowning (azul), projection for ob!vil

NOTES: this is in celebration of hitting 100 followers! thank you so much for following my work, and for all the comments you have left behind! i will also be rewriting malleus's section once book 7 is complete! on another note, pls invade my inbox if you immediately see that reference from malleus's section, mwah!

"That's enough. If one of you barks one more time, I will have to show you what happens to unruly puppies that won't obey." Crewel sighs and pinched his nose, another hand gripping his baton in irritation. "Unfortunately, we cannot fix this in an hour. You bad doggies need to get along until this entire issue is resolved."

The professor clicked his tongue, shoving the two out of his office. "I have already contacted someone to get you both. Surely, the Prefect has survived both of you once and will be able to do it again. So stay put, and be good. Or else."

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Seeing his Overblotted self summons waves of shame and embarrassment for Riddle. It was not his best moment at all, and that inky copy is a reflection of his worst flaws and traits. You could imagine how rushed Riddle was to collar his copy in fear that it would hurt others again, especially you who had already dealt with it once.

"Don't make me repeat myself, I demand that I see my King of Hearts, this instant!" It's very much like babysitting a spoiled child, and it makes Riddle so wracked with embarrassment. He cannot control his copy as it stomps and yells outrageous demands to see you. Riddle was really on the verge of collaring it and dragging it back to Heartsyabul when you turned the corner.

OB!Riddle's smile is so wide that it could be mistaken as sinister. "My rose!" Inky blot is smeared all over your uniform as the fake runs towards you. Just as Riddle was about to whip out his wand to stop it, you relax and return the embrace, albeit with a confused expression. Riddle manages to explain very quickly whilst trying to pry off his copy, but you suggest that it is best to let it do what it wants.

What Riddle doesn't tell you is that his copy reflects his desires as well, claiming he is uncertain why it insists on being so affectionate with you. However, it seems to be quite the blessing when OB!Riddle marches to the Heartslabyul dorm to resume its position as Housewarden. In fact, the entire dorm thanks you profusely for being able to manage that little tyrant with a bat of your eyelashes and a gentle voice.

"Trappola, have you not learned your lesson!? Rule #186, you shall not eat hamburg steak on Tuesday! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD—" Tapping lightly on its shoulder, you attempt to placate the copy with a weak smile. "Riddle— I mean, Housewarden Riddle, Ace has not been able to eat all day and the steak was the only thing left in the cafeteria. He did not have much of a choice." Suddenly, the copy's face softened before relaxing back into its seat.

"My rose, I mustn't bend the rules. If I bent them for one, I would have to bend them for all." It scowls, only sinking further into its chair as you rub gentle circles around his forearm. The entire table stares at you with looks of gratitude and relief, all in agreement that you just saved everyone a tantrum's worth of stress. You hummed at the copy, nodding softly. "I know, dear. May I remind you that rules are there to ensure everyone is happy and safe? If Ace hadn't eaten his lunch, perhaps he might have gorged on the tarts instead."

"I suppose you are right, my King of Hearts."

Riddle seethes from the other side of the table, arms crossed and face on the verge of turning red. It was hard for him to decide whether he was merely jealous, or upset at his own copy rampaging around as if he were the real one in charge. He pauses for a moment as an epiphany comes to him.

Is this what it looks like whenever the Prefect is here to calm me down from my temper?

Even though OB!Riddle cannot use his magic, Riddle is extremely watchful of his copy. It is perhaps the ugliest side of him, and the last thing he wants is an Unbirthday Party ruined and spoiled by ink. They only had to put up with it for a day, and surely, Riddle has enough patience to ride out this episode.

He does have to watch and hold himself back as his copy acts so familiar with you. A hand at your lower back, perhaps an inky kiss on the cheek, and you being referred to as 'his rose'? It should have been me!

When his copy disappears, Riddle takes the time to pull you aside and admit the truth behind the blot's behavior. His jealousy seems to have pushed him into confessing, and he makes it clear that he would rather earn your feelings properly instead of coercing you for affection with potential tantrums.

"Forgive me, Prefect. I apologize for my copy's behavior. I have to tell you the truth— it was reflecting my innermost feelings. Prefect, I harbor these affections for you and I yearn to be more than friends. You do not have to tell me anything else at the moment. If you wish for time, I understand as well. Allow me to be curt, at least just this once. I like you more than a friend should, and I would hope to hear your response soon." (So polite!)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

What a drag. Does he really need to help monitor his own Overblotted self? If you were able to survive it once, you should be able to handle that huge lion on your own. OB!Leona appears to be nothing but a grumpy lion who answers to no one, only being forcibly dragged around by his original self.

It changes when you show up. Suddenly, the copy springs to life in your presence and is completely disobeying the original.

You are taken by surprise when OB!Leona backs you onto a wall, a clawed hand lightly brushing against your cheek. "Herbivore," He breathed as his green eyes zoned in on you. "You should be more careful when you wander these halls alone." You couldn't help but gulp as he grins, fangs glinting against the sunlight. "You never know who might just be planning to eat you."

But when Leona takes notice of his Overblot's sharp nails cut into your skin, his attitude changes as well. The original takes initiative to pull you away and stand between you both. Perhaps you don't understand the way they bare teeth at one another, taking aggressive stances as if one or the other would jump and claw at their target. It sets the tone for a very tense environment as you attempt to drag them both to Savanaclaw.

It was best to keep both lion beastmen confined in his room. Considering that OB!Leona was focused on getting your attention, it wasn't hard to manage him. It was all that his overblotted self wanted; attention and absolute adoration. Leona, on the other hand, was more so bothered by the fact you smelled too much like ink in his own room.

"Tell me, do you look at anyone else like this?" Having been kicked out of his own bed, Leona could only stare blankly from his couch as his copy kept you trapped against its chest on the mattress. It only served to annoy him further when you seemed to reciprocate the attention it was giving you. "No, only you." The copy smirks, its tail entangled around one of your legs. "Then tell me, why? What do you adore about me?"

You hummed, sighing while your hand began to play with his mane-like hair. "You're brilliant. You're the most cunning lion that I know." Leona swears you were teasing him as you take a quick glance at him, smiling slightly. "And you're the only one that can protect me." With a mocking grin, the copy cups your cheek and returns your gaze to his own. "Tell me more, herbivore."

When the copy finally reverts back to ink, Leona can't help but find some relief in having the bed (and you) all to himself again. The first thing he does is drag you to the mattress and keep you trapped against his chest. You still smell of ink and lion, and it's his job to fix that.

"Go to bed, herbivore... Ha? I don't have to give you an explanation. You're a smart cookie, haven't you figured it out yet? ... Even with all the answers my blotted copy gave you, you're still not satisfied? Hmph, that's not my problem anymore. You're mine now, is that what you wanted to hear? ... Good. Now if that is all, let's go to sleep. You reek of ink..."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

It had become priority to get Azul's overblotted self into the biggest Octanivelle tank, which also happened to be the most isolated one. While OB!Azul seemed to be temporarily human, he seemed more irate with each second spent on the surface. It only relaxes slightly when it spots you, but his grip on your arm never relents. "Prefect, please. I need the sea..." He's just so needy and in pain. You'd help him, would you?

Azul is absolutely livid. He doesn't want you to see his copy in such a pathetic state. He most certainly tried to get you to turn the other way and march straight home, but you had to hit him with, "Even if it's your overblotted self, I would still help you." It might have been just a small comment, but he takes it as if you would move mountains for him. You weren't making it transactional, and that's practically special treatment for him.

You thought that his overblotted self would settle once in that tank. The copy immediately sheds its human form in favor of his merform, much to Azul's embarrassment. The businessman ready to drag you out and leave that blotted mess to fend for itself when a tentacle had dragged you into the water. Suddenly, you're met with teary blue eyes just before you were submerged. "You didn't plan to leave me here alone, did you?"

And goodness, Azul is just torn between fuming and panicking as his copy drags you further and further down. To make things worse, you haven't even taken a breathing potion! That was more than enough to make the octomer shake off his anxieties and plunge down into the waters after you before you drowned.

"And then what? What exactly were you planning to do once you had the Prefect here?" Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he crossed his arms, unable to even make eye contact with you. Clutching at the little potion bottle in your hands, you do your best to ignore the way that the copy's tentacles seem to latch onto every single limb of yours. Not to mention how they twitch and slowly coil against your skin, or the way that the copy buries itself into your neck with a whine while it ignores its original.

"Why? Why won't you give me an answer?" It murmurs, arms caging you into its chest. You can see Azul's jaw clench, but you cannot exactly tell if he's embarrassed by how pathetic his overblot can be or envious of how it got a chance to be so close. "I'll give you everything. You will never want for anything. All you have to do is say that you'll be mine." The copy grits its teeth as it tightens its grip on you, tearing a surprised gasp from your throat.

"Why won't you surrender to me?"

The moment that this entire fiasco ends, you never see Azul for another two weeks. Every time you go to the Mostro Lounge to see him, he's suddenly occupied with every single disaster known to man. It isn't until Floyd gets bored of the entire thing when you get the opportunity to be tossed into the tank again. It isn't until Azul jumps into the tank after you with another breathing potion to save you, again.

"Please don't speak of that incident, Prefect. I wish you never had to be witness to such a sorry display... W-What do you mean Floyd told you about that botched blot experiment?! ... Don't play with me, Prefect. You can't just say that you'll surrender to me, you'll hurt my poor heart! ... If you dare say it again, I am afraid that the contract can never be broken. Choose your next words wisely, Prefect. Not all agreements have to be in writing."

JAMIL VIPER

Of all the Overblots here, Jamil's was the most... unhinged one, surprisingly. It was also the nastiest, based on how it seemed to disregard everyone around him. Truly, it was the worst of Jamil's envy and wrath towards everyone around him for shaping him as a servant. No matter what Jamil did to snap some sense into his copy's head, it only served to tick it off even more.

When you came to assess the situation, however, you immediately got the sense that the Overblot will not be cooperative unless it gets what it wants.

"Master Jamil," Both copy and original froze, slowly turning their heads to you, who has knelt onto the floor with a small smile. "A frown does not suit such a handsome face. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jamil remains frozen, mentally screaming in his head while his Overblotted self smirks, sauntering towards you with desire swirling in his maddened gaze. "Rise, my diamond. You certainly may do a little favour for me..."

Thanks to Kalim and the coordination of the entire Scarabia dorm, everyone has tricked OB!Jamil into thinking it was the boss of the place (at least for a day, Kamil is super understanding of the situation!). At least someone expected the copy to see through this farce, but OB!Jamil's ego was so stroked by you and everyone around that it seemed to buy into the delusion.

Unlike Leona's copy which was super uninterested with anything that didn't concern you, Jamil's blotted self was extremely irritant with everyone else. Had it not been for you, Jamil would never be able to live down the embarrassment for having such an... unpleasant copy. So far, there have been no disasters while Jamil was occupied with keeping his copy at bay.

It's just that... Jamil has been watching from the sidelines as you are perched on his copy's lap, feeding it and attending to it's every beck and call!

Gripping his knee, Jamil's eyes narrowed onto your flushed gaze as your fingers combed through his copy's hair. If he had envied everything that Kalim ever wase, he certainly envied the abomination wearing his face as it rested its head on your lap. You didn't have to look at Jamil to know that he was seething, but it wasn't as if you could abandon the blotted copy either. It had only been a few hours since it had latched onto you, and this was not the best time to agitate it.

"It seems that I have not rewarded you." The copy sings. Its expression remains content, shuddering at the sensation of your fingers pulling gently at its scalp. "Do tell me what you desire most." Your breath hitched at the copy's purr. You do not react either as the fake Jamil sits up to caress your warm cheek. Biting onto your lower lip, you shook your head. "I desire nothing but to make you happy, master." You swear that you see Jamil's expression strain itself, and you already see how tight he grips his knee.

"Is that so?" You say nothing when the copy leans in closer to you, licking its lips with intent. You should be frightened, and most certainly be running away, but you don't. "You wish to make me happy, then? Is it me that you want?"

All the signs were there. That copy's hand was pressed against your lower back, the other hand was on your cheek, and his face was so so close—

Its lips are hot to the touch, and you melt immediately into his hands as he pushes and prods with his tongue. Against the candlelight, Jamil cannot tell if your cheeks were truly flushed red. He watches as your own hands crept up onto the copy's shoulders, pressing and digging nails into its shoulders until you have the strength to push yourself away for air.

You pant as your vision returns to you, meeting the copy's cruel smirk. It is looking down on you, and yet, you do not feel animosity towards it. You only feel disappointment once you recall it was only a fake.

"Or perhaps," A gasp is torn from your throat when the fake grabs your cheeks with a firm hand, forcing your gaze to fall upon a stunned, yet flushed Jamil. The copy smiles wickedly against your cheek, humming with absolute glee.

"Is it him that you want instead?"

You nod, and Jamil's heart skips a beat.

Yeah, no. Our boy Jamil ain't recovering from this. The moment that the blot disappears, you best expect that Jamil ain't letting you leave that room without an answer.

"I wouldn't act coy right now, Prefect. You may be clever, but I have no patience for your antics. Now, are you going to be honest with me? ... Why don't you tell me what you want, instead? What? But you were so honest with that fake only a few moments ago. Where have your words gone? ... You wish for me to force the truth out of you, then? ... As you wish, Prefect. I will give you everything you want."

VIL SCHOENHEIT

This was such an inconvenience for poor Vil, and he hates his copy to the same extent that Azul does. Just like Riddle, Vil feels a sense of shame when he looks at his doppelganger because it was a personification of his insecurities and selfishness. However, at least the copy was very calm and cooperative, perhaps even melancholy until it sees you.

Seeing Vil's Overblotted self again doesn't change the fact that the fake was still so beautiful. You are actually stunned into silence when you are brought before the two. Grim swears you have stopped functioning because being in the presence of two Vil's is too much for this world.

If you weren't watching yourself, you would've passed out the moment OB!Vil cupped your cheek with its inky hand and smiled down at you. "Ah, Prefect..." You gulped as it cooed at you, much to Vil's alarm. Its surely dangerous, but danger loves you so much and you can't pull away from it.

OB!Vil never lets you out of its sight after that. Wherever you went, the blot would follow. It seems to be fixated on being in your sights, which was not exactly a problem when you brought yourself to Vil's quarters where you would wait the entire thing out. It does concern you, however, just as the copy seems to grow more and more unhinged with each second that passes.

Vil is not exactly envious of how intimate the fake acts with you. Rather, he's extremely perplexed and observant of the way it pines for your attention and praise like a lovesick puppy. However, it isn't always so sweet. It isn't so sweet when the copy comes so close to scratching at your skin as it begs for your honesty. It certainly does not appreciate being lied to.

"Tell me, Prefect. Who is the fairest one of all?" It asks for the hundredth time.

Vil cannot exactly explain how he found himself watching his copy cage you into his own bed. It has straddled your hips, pinning your hands down onto the mattress without a care for the mess it makes. Ink drips and spills over his silk sheets, his pillows, you. Your neck has been smeared with ink, and so have your clothes. His copy is smiling with ink dripping from its lips and its hair, an obscure yet beautiful mockery of the original.

The original's breath hitches as your lips part into a breathy smile. You look like absolute art, and his fake looks like an absolute mess. "You, Vil. You're the fairest one of all." Vil shut his eyes at your quiet whisper, and he wishes that you stop bending yourself over for this pathetic imitation of him.

The copy snorted in dismissal, a sinister grin taking over its features. "Ha!" Even as it grips your wrists tighter, you know better than to believe that the copy would dare hurt you. Your heart pounds, however, as it leans in closely to your face with desperation on its breath. "Why do you say such, Prefect? Why do you say such when you feast your gaze on the ugliest part of me?" A choked breath stills the copy, its grin growing more crooked and maddened. Ink splashes against your cheek, and the copy pathetically takes a long finger to smear it away, only obscuring your features further.

"Are you trying to lie to me?" It croaked, maintaining that desperately smile.

Vil thinks you'll push it away. Vil thinks that you think of his copy so hideously, and so ugly. Vil thinks that you see him as ugly.

And you dispel all those cursed thoughts as your hand reaches out to cup the copy's cheek, dirtying your own hand in turn. "You've pushed yourself so hard, Vil. You've worked hard for everything you dreamed of." The copy's crazed expression remains, and more ink pours into you. Still, you return it with a gentle smile of your own. "Even when everyone complains, you're only pushing them because you care the most. Perhaps you act like the evil queen everyone makes you out to be, but that crown is yours by right."

Vil's heart stops. He still cannot bring himself to look at the sight. It's that cynical part of him that believe in your acting skills, that this was all a ruse to satiate his fake. The knife digs into his chest further as you hummed sweetly. "Your flaws are just as beautiful to me."

Only then does Vil bring himself to look at his copy. It is still smiling, eyes so wide as blotted tears fall upon your skin. You are covered in ink, covered in the ugliness that had consumed Vil, but you accept it all. You embrace the mess, just as you embrace the ugliness of Vil's heart. "Do you truly mean it, Prefect?" Its whisper shakes with hope, very much unlike the weariness and suspicion it held towards you the entire time.

Both you and the copy slowly glance at the real Vil whose eyes had widened at your softened gaze, filled with nothing but adoration. The heart in his chest ached, and he imagines that his entire body is melting into your hands. You are his weakness, after all.

"I mean every word, Vil."

When the situation died down, Vil takes the time to walk you back to Ramshackle Dorm. However, he makes a quick stop when the moon is set at the right spot, just to cast down light on your starstruck gaze.

"To think that the ugliest part of me revealed such feelings— you deserve an appropriate confession, at the very least. The affection that my fake expressed to you was no different to what I feel for you. I realize... that you meant more to me than you should have. I am not a benevolent prince, nor am I pure as the white snow. Still, I offer my heart for you to keep in a box. I only ask you to accept me, for all my beauty and ugliness... Ha, potato. My lovely potato, you're mine..."

IDIA SHROUD

Surprisingly, Idia got along the most with his Overblotted self. It wasn't as if he was driven by pride or competition— there was just some sort of acceptance when OB!Idia was first manifested. There wouldn't have been much issues.

At least, that was what he wanted to believe before OB!Idia set his eyes on you. It sent Idia into a choking fit when he saw OB!Idia approach you with such cool indifference, acting like one of those aloof protagonists from those dark otome games that he saw on a playthrough once. It's the way that OB!Idia leaned down towards your ear, muttering something about his boredom and suggesting to retreat to his dorm.

Idia took an hour to recover before sprinting to his dorm to ensure nothing has happened. All he found was you sitting on OB!Idia's thighs (it insisted!), and Idia swore that his copy was smirking at him.

OB!Idia was nothing to be concerned about. It wasn't as if it had the power to open up the Gate of the Underworld, which so happened to be far away. Other than the fact that the copy seems so... forward with you, Idia tried his hardest to ignore it.

"You look tense, Prefect." The copy smirked as it gently backed you against the wall. It places an arm right above your head, the figure leaning down at you. Behind the mask it wore, you can almost see it smirking down on you. "Don't I scare you?"

If this was the copy's attempt to intimidate you, ha! You got it covered! Idia is practically weak to any sort of romantic notion, it should surely send his overblot into a flustered fit! Boldly, you close in the gap slightly, crossing your arms around his neck and smiled at him. "Not at all, Idia." Much to your surprise, however, the copy takes its hand to cradle the back of your head, gently nudging your face closer until you barely a hair's worth away from kissing his mask.

"Are you sure about that?"

Suddenly a flare of red catches your attention as you glance to the side to see a fuming Idia who snuck over to your side. Wrapping a possessive arm around your middle, the original Idia glared at the fake and gritted his sharp teeth. "Listen here, bucko. You ain't getting more action than me, so buzz off!" He towers over you, hair threatening to burn orange if this fake continues to toy with you. "You wanna play, huh? Only one of us can have her, and you're nothing but a MagicMart knock-off!"

Cocking its head to the side, the copy snorted. It didn't seem to relent its hold it had on you. Instead, it leaned in towards Idia with a taunting stare. "Yeah? Why don't you ask the Prefect, hm? Seems like our little guest is enjoying all the attention." Both of them glance down at you, who seemed to be busy turning red to even give a proper response.

The blotted copy takes its hand to cup your cheek gently, but it was only a ruse as it forces you to look at Idia, eyes hazy with want. The way your breath shudders makes the original itch to steal you away from the copy.

"Don't you?"

Take that ending however you will. Idia does end up confessing to you once his copy is reduced to ink once more.

"Don't give me that look, Prefect. You totally loved seeing me get all riled up. And don't you dare deny you hated the idea of getting sandwiched by two of me... Please don't make me say it. I ain't good at the 'asking out' part, but I don't wanna skip over to straight up dating. Ugh, fine. I actually liked you for a really long time, and oh Great Seven, I just hope that I'm saying the right stuff to get onto your route. You're the only route that I wanna pursue."

MALLEUS DRACONIA (Book 7 is incomplete at the time of this posting)

Had it not been for the lack of potency in the blot, OB!Malleus would have been the end of NRC. Lilia was not a stranger to Malleus's ability to change the environment based on his mood. Even when this was a mere fake that they were dealing with, no one really wants to find out the consequences of upsetting the copy.

Malleus looks down on his Overblotted self. It was a flawed part of him, but nonetheless, a part of him that he was most disappointed by. The Fae Prince should know better than to act so wickedly, but the original understands. He tries to be as sympathetic as he can be for the copy, but it was only indifferent to what the original demanded of it.

Being the concerned friend that you were, you went to see them both despite all warnings from Sebek. Admittedly, Malleus would rather you be as far away from this poor imitation as possible. He does not want to see you hurt, let alone be at the mercy of his copy. Alas, it is too late now. The blotted copy will not allow you to leave.

Malleus hid his frustrations and anger underneath that collected demeanor. The only thing keeping him from doing anything rash was the fact that you were cradled against his chest. With a protective arm holding your waist, you were seated upon the fae's lap. The copy is forced to look up at him as he sat on his makeshift throne, and the fury behind its eyes is most evident, based on the way its hands grip your knees as if it were the only piece of you left.

Alas, it is only a stalemate now. With each tug that the copy made at your lower half, Malleus would simply pull you closer to him in turn. The fae hummed, glaring down at the copy who seems indifferent to intimidation. "Prefect, you may only say the word and this fake will be no more." He grunted, and you resist the urge to whimper as the copy's lips turned upwards into a smile. "If you wish for it, Prefect, I will disappear." It cooed, and the glint in its eyes reflecting the madness of blot.

Hesitantly, you shake your head and only feel Malleus's nails brush against your waist. "I don't want you to disappear." You whispered meekly, uncertain of what to think of the fake's lovestruck gaze. "Prefect, do you know what I can give you?" Even as the fake is forced down by the original, it still has the nerve to reach out and cup your cheek. "I can grant your dreams. I can make your fantasies a reality. I can give you everything."

Malleus lets out a breath of warning, leaning down to your ear as he narrowed his eyes at the fake with restraint. "Do not listen to this mockery, Prefect." His words are tinged with a hint of desperation, as if he had something to hide, something to shield you from. No matter how much he attempts to intimidate the fake, his blotted self presses on with a cruel smile.

"Prefect, all you have to do is love me, fear me, and do as I say. I will be your servant to will, to rule, to ruin." You are frozen as Malleus loses his temper, swinging out his staff to dispel the fake once and for all. Much to his dismay, his blotted self backs away just in time as its glowing green eyes lock onto yours once more.

"All you have to do is stay with me, forever."

The campus lets out a collective sigh of relief when the OB!Malleus disappears. However, suddenly, the entire campus is holding its breath again when Malleus doesn't immediately let you leave his room.

"Prefect, I beseech for your forgiveness. I fear that the fake has reflected my most selfish desires... You have nothing to fear, for I shall never withhold you against your will. How could I do such a thing when I am already so weak to your whims? ... Perhaps you do not have to stay forever to render me your servant. I pine for you, Prefect. My heart has already been yours long before I noticed. Please, grant me your forgiveness, Prefect, lest you cast me aside and I shall let my feelings fade with time."

[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[youraverageaemondsimp]

〄 BORDERLINE

⤷ Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader

{ CHAPTER I ; LOST & FOUND. }

You save a man from drowning and he claims he's Prince Aemond Targaryen who you know died in 130AC, surely he's just crazy, right?

Warnings: f&b spoilers, nothing too triggering really, reader thinks he's gone bonkers, fake dates, 1024 is basically 2024 + not proof read.

masterlist ; next >>

He felt Vhagars body giving up beneath him, her poor wings too exhausted to hold up her own weight to fly anymore as they battled, her croaks as she struggled to breathe fire onto the enemy before him.

His uncle, Daemon targaryen.

Aemond is sweating, he had been waiting all his life for this moment- to fight his uncle and at last his dream came true because of the witch he had taken in.

It was an open trap.

She envisioned that he'd win the battle, that he'd be alive.

That was a lie.

“Dracarys!” Daemon yelled distantly the fire being spit out by Caraxes, Vhagar— in a final attempt at protecting her rider, shielded Aemond with her wings, but that sudden movement caused Aemond to lose hold on her reins, His body falling down from the dragon's.

He only realised the lie as he fell through the skies, piercing through the wind at an intense speed as the dragons continued to fight before him.

Nonetheless he had no other choice but to accept his death, and so he did.

The waters welcomed him as if they had been waiting for him, he felt his life slowly slip away just like his sister had predicted that he would die, he closed his eye, just accepting his own fate, hoping that at least he'd find peace in the after life, or maybe he wouldn't; maybe he'd suffer in hell, after all he hurt many innocent people.

“You were swallowed up in God's eye, never to be seen again.” Helaena's words rung through his head, voice clear as day, feeling more suffocating than the water he's drowning in.

Just as Aemond's mind was reeling through the possibility, he felt a gust of air which made him breathe on reflex as he was pulled up by someone. He opened his eye in surprise.

He was… alive?

Someone saved him? Was it Alys? Was her prophecy right?

Many questions ran through his mind as he adjusted to his vision, but it was then he realised that he didn't recognise this place. Neither did he recognize you.

“Sir! Are you okay?!” You ask in a panic at the man who almost drowned before you. You were just taking a walk nearby the lake when you saw bubbles floating up to the surface with a silhouette of a man below, you immediately jumped in; knowing how to swim and ended up saving this man's life.

You took a note of his attire, noting that it might be very old fashioned style, perhaps he liked the medieval aesthetic? His shiny locks clung onto his clothes.

He coughed, water spurting out from his mouth and nose as his body desperately tried to get rid of the liquid that he drowned in. Aemond stared at the ground in shock.

His careful eye took note of the surroundings that were around him. Tall buildings that had square openings that shone brightly, even during what was supposed to be called a nighttime.

Quite frankly, it hurt his eye, the lights blaring into his cornea. He shut in reflex, not adjusted to whatever place he was at. You watched in silence as he sat up completely. His clothes were sticking to his body in an uncomforting manner.

“Where am I?” He asks, his face and tone sharp, behavior notwithstanding someone that was just drowning mere moments ago. “Uh? We're currently at God's eye lake.” You reply, not wanting to be too judgemental.

“God's eye? Where's Harrenhal?” He asks and you laugh at the mention of that place. “You mean the old castle? Yeah that was towed down years ago, they tried reconstructing it but weird incidents occurred, now that area is nothing but a memory.” You inform him.

“This doesn't look like God's eye.” He states out loud, taking in the difference in sight, a few boats floating on top of the waters, tied to a ledge, they did not look like the wooden boats.. They seem like they were made of steel. His eye widens. “Metal floats on water now? What is this sorcery?” He exclaims.

“Sorcery? Chill out with the medieval vocabulary, my guy. Aren't you too invested in your aesthetic?” You reply, shrugging his behavior off. “You mere— peasant, I am a Targaryen prince. Dragon blood runs through my veins, how dare you speak and mock me?” He grits his teeth, his voice low and dangerous.

You blink for a few moments before bursting out in laughter. “Oh gods! You're quite hilarious for a man that was drowning mere moments ago, say you didn't damage your brain did you?” You chuckle, checking his temperature.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs when he grabs you by your throat, pushing you onto the ground as he gets on top of you. “I will have your tongue, shall you speak any further mockery.” He whispers cruelly, his grip tightening around your neck. You gasp for air as you claw at his hands trying to pry them off, but he's too strong.

Great, is this how you're going to die? By the hands of a man who seems like is homeless or on drugs whom you saved? The seven are indeed cruel.

Your cursing to the God's was probably heard when you feel the oxygen rushing back in your lungs as he removes his hand away, but still straddling you. You look at him with doubt, wondering if he'd gone insane.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, what is the Lady's name?” He asks, referring to you while getting off you and you wanted to laugh once again but you decided not to.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen? Are you serious? If you're Prince Aemond Targaryen then I'm Alicent Hightower.” You roll your eyes at his words waiting for him to act embarrassed as you made fun of him, but he doesn't say anything. He squints his eye in disbelief.

“Seriously? Cosplaying a historic character is one thing but claiming you're them seems more of a mental illness.” You tell him, getting off the ground and standing before him, looking down at him from above.

You waited for him to drop the act, yet nothing came out of his mouth. “What year is this?” He asks and you blink in confusion. “Uhm 1024, why?” You reply and his mouth drops in shock.

He had been sent 894 years into the future. His heart begins to race as he takes in his surroundings once again, nothing looking the same way as it did before.

He looked at you, the one who pulled him into this world, was it magic? No, you were too much of an airhead for this to be magic. Aemond sighs.

He had nowhere to go in this world. All his family was likely dead. So he stares at you in thought, acknowledging that he probably looks like an insane person to you right now. A person from the future.

He gulps as anxiety eats away at the pit in his stomach. “You alright?” You ask, but he suddenly stands up grabbing you by your shoulders. He had only you now.

“Watch.” He tells you, one of his hands travelling to his eyepatch before pulling it off and revealing his eye. Hoping that it would convince you that he's not crazy.

“A sapphire.. in your eye like Aemond Targaryen, wow the dedication is indeed there.” You clap lightly but Aemond tuts, annoyed at your skepticism.

You couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by him, the subconscious of your mind seemed to know more than you did, for some reason, it believed him.

He didn't look like a crazy person while claiming those things, he looked you dead in the eye while claiming that he was a Prince, and Aemond Targaryen himself. So you couldn't help but wonder if it was really true.

“Can I touch your hair?” You ask, the question leaving your mouth unexpectedly and you cover your lips in shock. Fuck, you needed to hold your tongue. He tilts his head.

“Nobody except the Targaryens have platinum blonde hair, the hair colour now cannot be inherited genetically as they are long extinct. Every last one of them died. Now you can only see this hair color if you bleach your hair or wigs.. But they have weird textures so.. I need to see if you're telling the truth.” You explain yourself as fast as you can before he gets mad. He processes your words and gives you permission to touch his hair, and you touch it indeed.

Your eyes widen at the smoothness, his hair showing no signs of dye or bleach, it's way too healthy and non frizzy. Out of curiosity, you pluck one of the hair strands which makes him wince. “You wench how—” He begins to speak.

“Shh!” You shush him, holding the hair closer to your face, as you stare at the root part of the hair, platinum blonde just like the rest. Your heartbeat starts picking up its pace as you stare at the shiny hair intensely.

You turn your head to look at him, his features stoic, way too calm and collected. You ignored this before but he radiated off such a mightier energy, his posture was prim and perfect, his sapphire eye glinted and stayed snuggled up in his eye. His working eye just stared at you, the pupil shrinking and expanding, mimicking the turmoil of emotions within him.

Your gaze took in his features intently, the nose, the lips, the eyes, the face shape all were similar to the painting you had seen when you were in high school, studying history.

That's when your history teacher's lesson replayed in your memory, recalling the memory, pulling you into a flashback.

//

“Aemond Targaryen, fell into the Lake God's eye during the battle with his uncle.. His dragon, Vhagar, was found at the bottom—” You write down the notes as the teacher speaks, writing down the dates of the incident.

“However, eerily enough, his body was never found. Not at the bottom, nowhere. It was as if he just vanished. Never seen again.”

‘His body was never found.’ you scribbled.

‘As if he vanished, never seen again.’ you took out your highlighter and highlighted the point.

//

You stared at the man in front of you before you looked at the lake you guys were standing at the edge of, the water coming to your feet, pulled by the wind, towards you.

‘His body was never found.’

‘Never seen again.’

The words repeated in your mind as you look at him again.

“So you really.... are Aemond Targaryen?” You question, your body shaking with the realisation, the weight of it feeling heavy on your shoulders, you hoped it was a joke, that the man in front of you was playing a joke. But everything fell in place way too perfectly.

‘never found ; never seen again.’

“Hmm.” He hums.

[muirmarie]

mccoy and spock get together towards the end of the five year mission, and spock is very, "obviously the doctor is aware that vulcans do not have casual relationships and almost always mate for life" and mccoy is, of course, "getting that damn vulcan to open up is like pulling teeth, how am i supposed to know how he feels about me" and this causes new and exciting problems when they're trying to sort out what they're DOING after the end of the five year mission

and mccoy is trying to subtly figure out if spock has any interest in being stationed together, and spock is, of course, the doctor is my mate, of course we will stay together, and mccoy gets offered this really exciting opportunity at a cutting edge research station that's still hands on enough with patients that it's perfect for him, and he kind of tosses it out there one evening to spock, hoping to get something from the bastard, and instead spock just skims through and stone face is like "in my opinion you should accept, it is precisely the opportunity you've been looking for" and mccoy sits there after spock leaves, like okay!!! i guess we're breaking up?? is this not even enough of a relationship for him to consider it a break up??? i may have to kill him. no jury would convict me. what! is! he! thinking!, and spock goes back to his quarters and immediately sends them a message like "i would like to apply for a position as well :)"

and mccoy still won't fucjing SAY what he MEANS because he doesn't want to be left vulnerable now that he's convinced himself that spock simply Doesn't Care Enough, and every time he at least tries to get like, some meaningful goodbye moments???? spock keeps blowing him off??? meanwhile spock is like "it is rewarding to know that the doctor wants to spend time with me, but i know he will miss our friends, and as his mate it is important for me to make sure he spends enough time with his friends before we all leave the ship", and then when mccoy says he's going to go visit joanna before he starts his new assignment, spock's like =/ wish he invited me along but I will respect his wishes and says he's going to go to vulcan between assignments, and then it's over! they're saying goodbye! and spock! just! leaves! and mccoy is just. absolutely furious and trying So Hard to Not Care but also!!! so!!!! furious!!!!

so anyway imagine his surprise when he arrives at the research facility for his new assignment three weeks later, and they're like "doctor mccoy!! so nice to meet you! your husband arrived two days ago, and he took it upon himself to set up your shared quarters and your office to your liking, but let us know if you need anything else, we're so thrilled to have you on board!"

and mccoy is just.

"i'm sorry. what did you just say?"

and spock comes walking out like everything is normal, and gives him the little vulcan finger kiss, and turns to the welcome party and says, "husband is a simplification of a vulcan term - we have not performed the human marriage rites, but he is my mate"

anyway yeah mccoy probably tries to strangle him.

they make a great first impression.

[fruitsboots]

I'm a nail technician and here's a big list of headcanons about the kinds of clients the TOS Enterprise crew would be!

Kirk:

-shows up on time for appointment but sometimes has to cancel super last minute.

-doesn't bite his nails but picks at them and his cuticles. not enough to bleed or anything but enough that most of his appointment is cuticle work.

- "Cut them short" my guy there's no free edge.

- holds still, uses arm rest appropriately, doesn't stiffen his hands. no polish, just buffed smooth. jokes every time that next time maybe he'll go with a hot pink.

-asks a lot of questions and chats at the beginning of the appointment but ends up getting a little bored by the end.

-always tips very well but doesn't rebook, he'll call you.

Spock:

-doesn't make appointments, just shows up sometimes on slow days and asks to use certain supplies.

-does his own nails and keeps them very nice and neat. nail beds to die for. Nails grow very fast.

-On occasion has been talked into a dark polish and will let someone else do that for him (he's not very good at the application).

-sits a little too stiffly like he's concentrating. speaks when spoken to. doesn't linger long, the smell gives him a headache.

-doesn't tip but you’re not sure if he knows he’s supposed to.

McCoy:

-calls and asks if there’s time for a walk in then shows up later than he tells you but usually has a good excuse.

-Hands are dry as hell from washing them a lot. Worst, driest cuticles. Always gets a split on the edge of his pointer finger.

-Sits too far away from the table, at an angle, hunched, wrists on the armrest and elbows locked. Has to be asked to scoot arms forward a million times.

-Is annoying to work on technically, but fun to chat with. Always turns into a complaint session but in the best way. Wants to know the drama in your life and gives opinions.

- Closes eyes and tries not to doze off during the hand massage. Wipes off all the lotion that he desperately needs.

-Tips alright and always says he’ll come back soon but you know it’ll be another 4 months.

Uhura:

-has a standing appointment every 3 weeks and is never late, sometimes she’ll bring you a drink and apologizes when she doesn’t.

-Did her own nails for a long time and keeps them well manicured between appointments.

-Will (properly!) remove her own gel polish before appointments to save you the trouble.

- Tends to go for lighter, pearlescent shades. Always asks what you have that’s new but then picks one of her go-tos.

- Loves to look at nail art but doesn’t usually get it.

-Super bubbly during appointments, very patient, sits perfectly. Always enthusiastic about the result and gives lots of praise.

-Tips well and takes business cards to give to people.

Chapel:

-Not really supposed to get her nails done but does anyways. Doesn’t have super regular appointments but usually books with Uhura when she does.

-Usually shows up with chipped polish from last time that desperately needed removed 3 weeks ago.

-Gets light/sheer colors.

-Sometimes will book for a gel manicure and then tell you she doesn’t actually want polish this time even tho she needs it. Nice nails beds but they are thin and peel a bit without anything on them.

-Apologizes for no reason multiple times. Thanks you as if it were an inconvenience to do her nails? 

-After a few appointments, she loosens up a bit. Tips decent.

Sulu:

-has gotten his nails done like five times just for fun.

-Keeps them short, not much cuticle work. Why are you here??

- Will get a couple “masculine” designs and isn’t picky about them. “You just do whatever you think will look best :) “

-genuinely fun to have as a client but needs some direction on how to sit etc. can talk about anything.

-Didn’t tip the first time bc he didn’t know and felt bad so he always does, but it’s not much.

Scotty:

-how can one man have so much grease under his nails?

-Has a standing appointment once a month for just a nail trim but should be more like every two weeks.

-Asks questions about nail equipment (UV lamp, e-file, etc).

-Talks a bit during the appointment and then stands around after chatting. Always tips like 2$ but sometimes brings baked goods, etc.

Chekov:

-wanders in with a bruised nail and is like “what can you do for this” nothing dude.

-Leaves and comes back later to buy a gift certificate to give to a girl.

[the-barefoot-hatter]

kill that bug dead! he said all of that right in front of the kid too? no mercy!

steve is very, very loved <3

-◬--◬--◬-

Imma tackle the questions posed here! (readmore cuz i get yappy)

(I am so jazzed for Q&A, I get so nervous just talking outside the tags on my own and i have feeeeeeeelings)

do you think bill felt guilt for passing down his single eye down to Steve. or if ford felt guilt for passing down the six digits.

I think Bill's strange eye wasn't weird for the number of eyes, but for what he can see with it. And Bill is certain Pyramid Steve inherited his special vision, because his baby is special and spectacular and all other babies are boring diaper-rashed losers in comparison!!!

(Bill is feeling some kinda way about P.S. maybe inheriting ALL of Bill's powers given Bill's track record at handling his own abilities. at the same time. ex astris, ad astra)

Ford doesn't really have the context to be entirely sure what Bill's kind is supposed to look like (Bill really likes all Ford's fingers so clearly six isn't the normal number), but it does make Ford feel all soft and fuzzy inside to share his polydactyly, something he's never had in common with anyone before, not even his own twin.

(once P.S. hits school age Ford will start worrying history will repeat itself and his toes will get him bullied, overlooking the rather obvious fact that other kids will notice he's a triangle with no arms first)

(in general both Ford and Bill think it's sweet how much P.S. looks like the other one. Both of them are shocked whenever someone says the obvious "oh he looks like just like you!" lines (triangle/triangle for bill, blue eyes/blue eyes for ford))

#what if when Steve grows up he’s casually chatting with his dad Ford#and then he casually drops all the stuff bill did that he didn’t tell ford#including the pediatrician incident

Oh, Bill has 100% let things slip around Pyramid Steve, thinking he was too baby to notice or remember. Plus a lot of the typical "don't tell your father!" incidents that come out years later (ranging from the normal to the 'he let you steer a WHAT when you were WHAT?!')

(Bill burned down at least three more pediatrician offices. Actually, they finally found a good match right in Gravity Falls. Go fig, the weirdness attracts weird parents with weird kids)

#THE TAGS IN THE ORIGINAL POST KILLED ME. KILLED ME DEAD

yay! I tend to yap in there about extra feelings stuff. i think i actually hit the tag limit lol

pediatricians are hard to find.

you aren't broken and other important things a triangle needs to hear

[atleastpleasetelephone]

You are my absolute favorite Elvis writer. I have a request...😏🙏🏻. Could you doooo smut with either 1964 E ike Frankie and Johnny ...or bde.. I'm torn between the two. Can you doooo like the reader gets really mad at Elvis for some reason and she tries to dominate him but he puts her in her place?

Hot 'n' Cold

A/N: Thank you so much anon, that's so sweet! I went for 1964 E as I feel he doesn't get quite so much love on here. This turned out a little... mean? Perhaps the closest to a yandere Elvis I have ever written (but still not that close!)

Pairing: 1964!Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.6K

TWs: Slapping (reader slaps E), infidelity, rough sex, possessive kink, breeding kink, reader cries, mood swings, p in v sex.

“Don’t be silly, baby. I have to kiss her. It’s in the script.”

Elvis has just returned from filming Viva Las Vegas and he’s already a little frustrated with your lack of enthusiastic welcome home. He knew you’d be annoyed with all the stories in the papers, but he wasn’t expecting to be ambushed with questions the minute he walked through the door. He’s trying to play it cool though, hands thrust in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face. 

You draw yourself up to your full height (all five foot two of it) and shake your head determinedly. 

“It’s not just kissing, El, and you know it.”

“Baby. Come on,” he wheedles, closing the distance between you and putting his hand on your cheek. This sort of thing usually does the trick when you’ve heard something about some other woman.

You push him away, angrily. “No. You can’t charm your way out of this one, Mr Presley.” 

He sighs loudly, letting his hand fall back down next to his hip. “Whaddya want from me, then?”

He’s basically pouting at you now, and you don’t think that’s fair. He doesn’t get to pout, when he’s the one who’s been fooling around. You’ve seen the papers, you know the story, but this time it seems more serious than usual. What do you want from him? Marriage, commitment, babies… the whole fairytale. But right now? Right now you want to get even. 

“I want you to learn your lesson.”

Elvis cocks an eyebrow. “What lesson, honey?” You’ve never spoken to him like this before and he’s not sure he likes it. 

You huff now. “That you can’t mess around with other girls, El.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve told you, I’m not messing…”

You stare at him, angrily, trying to think of the sorts of things he usually says to you and how you can turn them back on him. But you’re too worked up, so you can’t think of anything other than slapping him across the face. 

“Ow!” 

He stares back at you in complete disbelief, his hand moving to rub his stinging cheek. You’ve definitely never done that before and he’s sure he doesn’t like it. 

“You deserved that!”

You kind of enjoyed slapping him, the rush of adrenalin through your body and the look on his face afterwards… In fact you enjoyed it so much you’re about to do it again, but he anticipates it, grabbing your wrist roughly. 

“Uh-uh, no you don’t.”

You try to wriggle out of his grasp but it just gets firmer and he catches your other hand now too, since it’s flying around dangerously close to his face in a way he doesn’t care for at all.

“Elvis!” You just about shriek, as he spins you around and walks you backwards until you collide with the wall. 

“Shush.”

He’s never known you to be like this, but then he’s never had a relationship go quite so public. He certainly didn’t want it all over the papers, it was embarrassing for God’s sake and he’d told Ann as much. But you can’t slap him. Whatever he might’ve done. 

He stands, pressing you against the wall with his body, holding your hands out to either side of your head for just a moment. Your head swims, wondering what he’s going to do next, your body reacting embarrassingly quickly to him being so close and so dominant. You’re supposed to be pissed with him but your panties are already soaked. His lips collide with yours in a bruising kiss and you can’t help yourself, moaning into his mouth. His hand is under your dress and pulling down your panties and then you hear him undoing his belt. He grabs your leg and forces it up as high as it will go (which is pretty high, you used to be a gymnast), stopping kissing you to watch your reaction as he thrusts inside you in one quick movement. Your eyes roll back in your head and you groan. 

“Whose pussy is this?” He growls, lips and teeth finding the skin below your ear.

“Y-yours, El…” you moan. 

He’s let your wrists go since you’re impaled on his dick now, trapped between him and the wall, and your fingers find the hair on the back of his head and knit themselves into it. 

“Good.”

He starts to move, short little thrusts, trying to drive himself somehow even deeper inside you. You whimper, fingertips pressing into his scalp, feeling almost uncomfortably full. 

“I decide when I want it,” he continues, his voice low and dangerous. “You make sure it’s always ready for me. Y’hear?”

His eyes are staring into yours now and it’s all you can do to nod and tell him yes. He starts to thrust a little more now, drawing out slowly and then slamming back into you full force. Your body rocks and you cry out. 

“No tellin’ me who I can see and who I can’t.”

You look down at him through tear-filled eyes as he keeps up the torturous rhythm. 

“I’m Elvis Fucking Presley and I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

You’re still whimpering, so he stops moving, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing them, forcing you to look at him. A tear runs down your face. 

“Did you fucking hear me?”

“Y-yes. Yes. I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t expect you to j-just want one girl.”

He lets go of your face, suddenly seeing the tears there and gently wiping them away with his thumb. 

“Good girl,” he says, softly, picking up a much gentler pace now. “Takin’ me so well.”

You try to steady your breathing but you feel all over the place, he’s being so gentle now it makes you want to cry more, somehow. 

“I love this pussy, baby,” he murmurs, sensually. “It’s so good to me.”

You still can’t speak so you just sniff in response. He starts to kiss your neck, rolling his hips into you in a way he knows is guaranteed to make you cum. Your sniffs turn to soft moans. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Mmmm. Yes.” You bite your lip, trying to control the tears. His mood swings can be so difficult to deal with.

You can feel the edges of your orgasm as he keeps rolling into you, his heavy breath hot on your ear, little moans falling from his lips as he feels your walls start to flutter in anticipation. 

“C’mon baby. You can do it.”

The words of encouragement push you over the edge and you squeeze him, your orgasm ripping through your body and making you moan. He moans too, feeling you and hearing you, and he knows it won’t take much for him now either. He starts to pick up the pace, quick thrusts that slam your body into the wall repeatedly. 

“You want me to make ya a mama?” He pants. 

Your eyes go wide like saucers and you nod quickly. “Yes, y-yes please.”

“I’m gonna fill ya up… make ya mine…”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s never spoken to you like this, he always pulls out and cums somewhere else, so worried about accidentally getting you pregnant, so sure about it not being the right time for a baby yet.

“Please… please El…” you can’t believe you’re begging him right now, when you’ve already cum, but you want a baby so much. 

“Can’t wait ta see ya growing that baby inside ya…” he continues, thrusting even faster. “Knowing yer gonna be mine forever…”

“Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.” It’s like his words alone are pushing you to another orgasm. 

“That what you want?”

“More than anything, El.”

There’s a wicked glint in his eye as he pushes your leg somehow even higher and hits somewhere deep inside you. You cry out in ecstasy and another orgasm hits you, almost as strong as the first, and you find yourself hanging on to him desperately as your legs turn to jelly and he pounds you through it. 

“Fuck!” 

He cries out, shooting his release into you, your walls squeezing it out of him for what seems like minutes. When he’s finally done he staggers backwards and pulls you with him. 

“Lie down on your back and put your feet up in the air.”

You stumble over to the bed and do as you’re told, your brain foggy and confused and unable to fathom why you’re doing what you’re doing. Eventually you ask.

“What’s this for, El?”

He’s lying next to you, holding your hand kind of sweetly. 

“It’s the best thing to do to make it take.”

You look at him, baffled. 

“To make a baby, honey.”

Your eyes go wide again. “You meant it?”

“Of course I meant it, honey. Imagine a little Presley runnin’ around the place. Can’t think of anything better.”

“So… you… are we gonna get married?” 

He nods. “When the time is right. You’ll see. For now you just concentrate on eating right and growing that little baby inside you. And if this one doesn’t take, there’s plenty more chances to practice…”

You smile and let him kiss you, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you can’t help wondering when exactly the time will be right. As you curl up in bed with him later that night, and he rubs your belly and tells you he can’t wait for it to be full, you wonder if this will mean he’ll stop wanting to be with other girls. Surely if you’re married and you give him the baby you both want so much, he’ll be happy? And surely you will too?

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-five of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Also then he fucking ruins his best non-funerary/non-gala slacks with ground-in gravel, rips a hole in the upper sleeve of his button-down, and nearly wipes out three times but only actually wipes out once, which ends up in him on his back and out of breath with Kon leaning over him and grinning down in delight as he reaches down to offer him a hand up. 

Tim takes it, because why the hell would he ever turn down the opportunity to hold Kon's hand? 

“That fall was sick,” Kon says as he pulls him to his feet, grinning wider at him. Tim isn’t really sure how to take that, considering. Like, Kon seems happy, but also he doesn’t love that Kon’s first comment was about him fucking up, so–“You’re really good at it, bet if you got tossed off a bridge you’d be super-easy to catch!” 

“. . . uh,” Tim says, vaguely bewildered. “Thanks . . .?” 

“And your balance is killer!” Kon continues enthusiastically, grabbing his other hand too and squeezing them both instead of letting go of him, and Tim realizes that Kon was, in fact, actually complimenting him with the comment about falling, which is . . . really weird, okay, but does make him feel better about the first comment thing. And, well . . . it does actually kind of make sense that Kon would be more impressed by examples of control, rather than strength or superpowers or stuff he sees every day. Like–technical skills over just throwing raw power at a problem until it stays the hell down, which is definitely what Kon’s used to. 

But also it makes literally no sense at all, because it’s Kon. The idea of big and bright and flashy Kon who does everything he can to take up space and get attention being the type to appreciate things like the fiddling little balance adjustments he did on the fly and the way he controlled his wipeout just feels, like–weird. 

Maybe it's just another example of a thing Kon is too busy acting cool to show Robin, but doesn't mind showing Tim Drake. 

“Thanks,” Tim says again, briefly wondering why Kon is completely incapable of putting up with Robin getting technical or detailed but can appreciate it in Tim Drake. 

. . . admittedly, the fact Kon wants to make out and, uh–take pictures with Tim Drake probably does make him more inclined to not find him annoying. Also Tim Drake isn’t the one in charge of both him and their entire team in regular stressful situations and there’s no one around who Kon might perceive him as stealing the attention of. 

Yeah, alright, he’s asking himself stupid questions again. 

Well, alright, so everything he was actually trying to impress Kon with is literally not even anything he cares about, all his best and slightly-too-Bat-level attempts aside, but he had pretty much expected it, just hoped that–

“The rail slide thing was so cool,” Kon continues again, sounding just as enthusiastic and back to beaming at him, and Tim . . . pauses, and then–“I dunno how you even did that without flying, and you did it so fast, and–” 

Tim doesn’t intentionally time it, but he needs to disassociate a little so he’s just counting a bit in his head, and therefore he knows that Kon spends exactly forty-seven seconds talking his ear off about literally every single one of the skate tricks he just did while still holding both his hands. Which doesn’t sound that long, technically, but definitely feels pretty long. 

And also pretty mortifying, because forty-seven seconds of Kon recounting every single trick that Tim is perfectly aware of having just done to him in an excited, delighted tone with his face all lit up in delight is . . . is a thing. That is happening to him. Actively. For forty-seven seconds. 

Forty-seven seconds. 

Tim really does not know how he’s supposed to pretend to not be going insane about this situation. Like that just isn’t a reasonable expectation. 

Kon stops to take a breath at second forty-eight, and Tim decides this is actually the perfect time to be more proactive in their physical relationship without any chance of Kon feeling like he had to drop any hints first. 

Well, no, Tim just grabs Kon’s face and kisses him stupid. But the first option is how he’s gonna explain why he did that to anyone he might ever have to explain it to, as opposed to if I didn’t kiss him right then and there I was going to have to go murder the Joker at LEAST fifteen years early and I just don't think Batman's thinly-veiled excuse for mental health could handle that, which is understandably a more loaded response and might lead to inconvenient follow-up questions he really doesn’t have time for in his schedule. 

Ideally he won’t be explaining himself to anyone, obviously, but contingency plans are contingency plans.

[wheels-of-despair]

You Belong To Me Pairing: Geta x Reader Summary: Nothing to see here, just an average evening with the most normal couple in Rome. Contains: Whores, games, threats. Words: 700ish

Youths and ageless blogs who interact with this fic will be blocked.

I have a Geta-verse in the works. Is this a part of it? I don't know yet. But for now, have a short little something inspired by this gif. And let the record show that I am even less concerned with historical accuracy than Sir Ridley Scott.

Whores.

Whores everywhere.

The one you married, at the center of them.

You stand in the entryway of the massive room and try to maintain a neutral expression. You never know who's watching.

It doesn't take long for him to feel your stare. Your eyes flash when they meet the co-emperor's, letting him know that the fight he stormed out of this morning is far from over. His wicked tongue pokes through his lips before they curl into a smirk. He reaches back blindly and grabs the nearest whore, pulling her hand onto his chest, staring defiantly at you the whole time.

You scan the room, like you came here to do something other than get his attention, finding nothing of interest. Ugly old men who pretend they're important, and pretty little whores who pretend they want to touch them. Same as always. You hate it here.

You turn to leave without another look at him, taking the scenic route back to your part of the palace. He'll be there when you get back. You're sure of it.

It's nearly sunset when you return to your chamber. He's there, scowling at you from across the candle-lit room, but you don't acknowledge him. You simply turn to close the door.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him fly from his chair like he's been catapulted out of it. Sandals scrape across the floor, ringed fingers grip your arms and whirl you around, pushing your back against the wall and holding you there. You stare calmly into his fiery gaze and feel his hot breath on you, trying not to smirk at how easy it is to get him riled up.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" you ask innocently.

He growls, eyes flashing in the dim room and fingers digging into the flesh of your arms. You stare at him, unbothered and unemotional. That always seems to bother him more than anything.

You can't both fly off the handle at every minor annoyance.

Finally, his resolve cracks, and his mouth crashes to yours. Angry. Possessive. Desperate. You let him in but refuse to respond to his lashing tongue, reminding him that it takes two to play this game.

He pulls back, livid. The pale skin around his mouth shines with his own saliva from where he'd tried so desperately to make you kiss him back. The emperor hates it when he doesn't get his way.

You let him seethe for a few seconds before you strike, launching yourself at him and holding his stupid face in your hands so you can give him the kiss he craves. You advance, stumbling together until his back hits a wall, and press him to it. Your thigh slides between his spread legs, and he groans into your mouth when you rub against his erection.

You reach for his robes, pulling and pulling the annoyingly long fabric until you reach the hard, leaking, traitorous cock that's supposed to put heirs in you. You hold the fabric out of the way with one hand and wrap the other around his member, giving it long, slow strokes that make his breathing hitch and his eyelids flutter.

He could have had one of the whores take care of this.

But he came after you. He waited for you.

He moans when you circle his wet tip with your thumb, and throws his head back to hit the wall with a thud. He'll probably whine about that all night. You reach for his balls with your other hand, making him weaken in the knees and mewl at your soft touch.

He's so pretty when you're alone together. He'd die - and take you with him - if anyone ever found out what really goes on in the privacy of this home you share. That when the high and mighty Emperor Geta isn't screeching orders or arguing with the senate or consorting with whores, he's at your mercy.

Right. Whores.

Your grip on his bits tightens, and tightens, until his painted eyes pop open with a gasp.

He's even prettier when he's afraid.

"Rome may belong to you," you whisper, "but you belong to me."

[skimmingmilk]

i've just found out your tumblr has even MORe picket fence writing and im over the moon?? But also my heart was shattered with the back in time wip 😭😭😭 how does sonic find the strength to leave baby tails behind, how does he react when he sees tails again in his own timeline after having met sick abandoned baby tails??

Heheheh, yeah, there are some little fics or scenes I've written that I hesitate to put on AO3 sometimes (or just aren't complete enough to be a story on their own), so I like to throw them at Tumblr from time to time. Glad you found them! :D

Ohh, the back in time WIP... Not sure how much I can give away because of the chance that it's going to end up part of a bigger fic... but it'll still be a long while until I get around to posting that xD Maybe people will forget lol.

Potential future spoilers under the cut?

So! The way I see it playing out is that Sonic is going to find it in him to leave baby Tails behind because he knows they'll cross paths one day, the way they're supposed to and everything will play out from there. He knows he can't stay in the past and he can't take baby Tails to his present. Plus, Silver's with him and it probably wouldn't go over well to try and explain why it'd be a good idea to take baby Tails with him when it would negate pretty much everything Sonic and Tails experienced together since meeting on West Side Island or cause a split in the timeline where now there's a universe where Sonic never got to meet Tails because he wasn't there and now Sonic's time with have two Tailses. He knows that it can't happen.

But... Sonic still can't stop wondering about the little guy. Is he cold? Is he scared? Is he getting enough to eat? Is he lonely? Hurt? All the things he's not letting himself think about when it comes to his Tails (the 10 year old who's on his first solo adventure and basically gone as close to no contact as possible in order to "prove himself"). He projects all that onto the baby version of him because he knows Tails can handle himself (and that's not why he's worried about him, what he's uncomfortable with is the motive behind the journey). So he gets his hands on two Chaos Emeralds and goes back to check on baby Tails by himself. Just this once.

Except it doesn't end up being just once. Because there is this disconnect and distance between Sonic and Tails of the present, doubts that have arisen in the wake of Forces, Frontiers, and now Tails's absence, Sonic's drawn more and more to the past. Baby Tails smiles and laughs and he doesn't pull away from him and he likes to play and explore and he still needs him. It's just so easy for Sonic to make him feel better. Just by being there.

Also, because this is after Frontiers, going through cyberspace and the cyber corruption has opened the gates to Sonic's memories a bit and they're kind of leaking into his thoughts more and more. He's falling into the habit of ruminating, reliving moments and questioning choices he made, things he might've done wrong, could've done better. So that maybe Tails wouldn't feel like he needs to become a completely different person.

Present Tails won't listen to him, but baby Tails hangs onto every word. So maybe by being there... Tails might remember being loved and maybe the 10 year old won't only see the worst parts of himself when he looks in the mirror if Sonic can try again and show the younger version that he's worth something just as he is.

I think Sonic crosses paths with present Tails twice during all of this. The first conversation goes okay, but there's an awkwardness to it. But Sonic does try to make an effort to be more open with Tails in the hopes that maybe it will set a better example. And Tails is surprisingly receptive to it. So Sonic resolves to not go back to the past, because Tails seems to be doing okay after all. And he's reminded that he loves who his little brother is now. The good and the bad made him who he is, and would he really want to change that? Of course not!

Unfortunately, the second conversation doesn't go nearly as well...

So Sonic goes back to see baby Tails in the wake of it - not because he needs it, but because Tails clearly does - but when he arrives, the forest is burning and he can't find Tails anywhere...

[yellowhollyhock]

you know the hardest thing about 07 fanfic is getting around the gaping plot hole of 'your training ended a year ago and Master Splinter says you've stopped writing'

Like? What am I supposed to believe here? That Leo's gone for an extra year (twice as long as he's supposed to be gone), nobody goes looking for him, he stops writing, and nobody's reaction is 'Leo is either in serious danger or dead?' Everybody assumes he just decided not to come home?? And they're right???? Like we don't see much of Leo's personality but from what we do see, a year is a long time to just not write and not let anyone know he was gonna be late

That just doesn't. Make any sense.

So here's me trying to make sense of it

When Leo first left, Raph became the Nightwatcher (as per prequel comics). Mikey starts his Cowabunga Carl thing, with Donnie's help, and enjoys it a lot for a while. It's the only time he's getting out after all. Other than training, which is not going well without Leo. Donnie's not a very firm leader, barely wants to be doing it himself. Raph is checked out and short-fused. Master Splinter tries to intervene but that largely looks like scolding and isn't much help at all.

Mikey knows Raph is the Nightwatcher. In the beginning Donnie thought he must not be, because of an instance here or there where he was too harsh, too reckless, couldn't be their brother, he would never do that. Mikey responded by pointing out the good things and arguing over the debatable things and reminding Donnie of the trouble Raph can get himself into when he's fixed on a goal or acts from a place of anger. Donnie sees the schedules continue to line up and has to concede, but that leads to the question: what is Raph so angry about? And while they haven't come up with an answer, privately Donnie assumes it's at him (for not being the kind of leader Leo was).

Four months after Leo leaves, they're still training every morning and going out occasionally. Six months in, they still train most days. Master Splinter has asked them not to go out together because of how they treat each other during training. Mikey likes his job less and also clings to it more as it becomes the only way he's ever getting out. By the time Leo should be home in a month, while each of them still practice, training together is rare.

That's when they get a letter from Leo that he might be late, and isn't sure how late.

So he's a week late. Donnie is researching every boat and airplane that left from Japan (last known general location) trying to guess what's likely to have caused the delay and extrapolate where Leo might currently be.

Two weeks late. Mikey is planning such a big homecoming party that increases in intensity with every night Leo's not there. It might be tonight, we have to be ready. He's not taking gigs and Donnie's getting stressed about money.

Raph is being the Nightwatcher and only sees his brothers for a brief time in the evenings--and lately those evening have been all about Leo. He's watching them both worry themselves sick. He'd actually allowed himself to be excited for Leo to come home, imagined they could have a good time together if he had a chance to pull him aside and talk to him about the thing he hasn't talked to anyone about: Merryweather's death. It's his big brother he wants to tell and he can't explain the Nightwatcher to his family until he's had that conversation with Leo. They fought about it before Leo left and he needs him to understand.

But now he's getting angry. Where is he? Donnie expresses concern that Something Happened; Master Splinter insists they must stay calm and not give up hope.

Three weeks late. Donnie is now insisting Mikey get focused back on work. At this point Donnie is still being Mikey's driver, in the headset and on standby every time Mikey goes out. Mikey wants him to back off (I can do this myself) so that at least someone will be home to greet Leo since Mikey might not be (your fault for making me go to work). Donnie is really hurt by the implied 'don't need you anymore' and feels guilty (which somebody really should) that Mikey's the breadwinner for the whole family. Even more guilty now that he thinks his help was more for his pride than because Mikey ever needed him.

Then a letter from Leo. Sorry for not contacting you sooner, I'm safe and well, hope I didn't worry you. I'll be at least another month. Much shorter than his letters used to be; they're more worried than ever. And this time the return address is way off course from what they thought was his path home. What's going on?

Mikey wants to write to him. Everyone else points out they don't know where to send the letters. Donnie is back to obsessing over maps, train schedules, weather patterns, anything that might hint at an explanation. Between their jobs and worrying about Leo, Raph doesn't understand how either of his brothers can still stand upright.

He becomes more aggressive out in the streets. He's worried and confused and pretty steamed at Leo for giving them nothing to go by. And even more angry at who or what could have hurt him badly enough that he doesn't want to tell his family what's going on. He's quicker to hit and more hasty to decide who the bad guy is.

Donnie and Mikey see the change. Donnie starts openly criticizing the Nightwatcher every chance he gets (trying to get Raph to fess up or better yet stay home or at the very least see that he's going too far sometimes and needs to take a break). Mikey responds by doubling down on his defense and praise for the Nightwatcher (also wants Raph to confess and knows he won't when Don's talking like that, wildly hoping to be invited along, wanting to keep Raph safe but also eager himself to have a space to let out his own building anger).

And what's Mikey angry at? The fact that Master Splinter hasn't done anything. He's satisfied with Leo's explanation. Doesn't seem concerned, like Raph and Donnie are, that something went wrong. Master Splinter replies that the Ninja Tribunal is wise and at times unpredictable. They may have thought it right to extend Leonardo's training. Donnie points out that the return address for Leo's recent letters are not in Japan; did the Tribunal travel with him? Master Splinter doesn't have an answer and still insists on remaining calm and hopeful.

Now it's been two months, one week past the second time Leo was supposed to be home. Mikey plans a party again, this time with much less support from his frazzled, sleep-deprived brothers who are trying not to get their hopes up. Raph tries to keep Mikey from getting his hopes up either. That doesn't go over well.

After three months, they get another letter, another apology with no explanation, this time saying he has no idea when he'll come home, but don't worry, he's coming.

Raph has been seeing night after night what the world can be like. He's convinced something unspeakable happened or will happen to Leo, but he can't tell anyone that. He wants to go after him, but how is he supposed to find him? The best he can do for Leo is the same he did for Merryweather: be the hero they can't be anymore. Make people who are careless with others' lives Pay. And somehow he has to keep it from his family that he thinks Leo's gone gone, or might be soon; they couldn't take it. They don't know the world like he does. He can protect them from this, for a while.

Donnie thinks Leo must need help, and that's driving him crazy because he doesn't know how to reach him. But he's going to find a way. He starts planning and saving up for parts to build his mutant finding matrix thingy. After their argument he doesn't want to ask for Mikey's help paying, and it wouldn't be right since he's been really trying to let him be more independent. He finds a job. Mikey seems bothered, they talk and work out a better working relationship that allows Mikey more independence and pays each of them separately (Mikey of course making more because he's doing more). Now with the call line job supplementing that he's able to ease the burden on Mikey and April of providing for the family (he knows Casey's been worried about the kind of work April's been taking) and he can buy the parts he needs to find Leo, go after him and bring him home. He's going to fix this for everybody.

Six months after the first time Leo was supposed to come home, Mikey finally gives up hope. He's been secretly sending letters to different places he thinks Leo might be. He stops. He's hidden nightmares about what could happen to Leo for months. He stops asking for Raph or Donnie to go skateboarding with him, stops insisting on family nights every Saturday. He gets closer to Splinter, who he's seen a change in and knows, in spite of continued insistence to stay calm and not give up hope, Master Splinter gave up a while ago. Donnie says he's just getting old (he's been very worried about his health and is becoming more micromanager about it every day), but Mikey knows it's more than that. He sees the depression Splinter is hiding. Splinter doesn't notice the same in him.

Around that time, they finally get one more letter. Leo says that he's not going to be in a place where he can get paper or postage, so they also won't be hearing from him. He doesn't say anything about coming home.

Raph had thought Leo was dead; the letter makes him furious (he's been mourning in secret for nothing? Is Leo even in trouble or just decided not to come back?). Donnie is thrilled by it; not being able to send a letter actually might help him narrow down where Leo is, and they have a more recent return address now. He's about ready to pack up and go get him, something he assumes Raph will be on board with.

Well, Raph can't leave, and he can't tell his family why (they know why). He and Donnie have a screaming match. Raph wants to know how this return address is any different from the letters before, and why they didn't go then. Donnie brings up Raph not seeing Leo off at the airport when he first left. Raph asks if Donnie's even been training. Mikey suspects it got physical, but if it did they both hide the bruises well and they're not saying a thing.

Raph starts going straight to his room when he gets back in the early morning, and staying in his room until he can hear that the rest of them have gone to bed. Once in a while he'll come out to argue if he overhears something that sets him off.

Mikey would go with Donnie to get Leo, but Donnie says Raph's right, he'll have moved on by the time they get there, it's the same as every other return address. He just needs more time to figure out where Leo actually is.

Mikey is starting to think they've run out of time, but just like Raph, he doesn't want to say that.

Batnapping happens like eight months in. Master Splinter is deeply bothered by it, gets stricter, asks his sons not to go out until Leo gets home. Raph has to get sneakier. Mikey had to negotiate to keep his job (Donnie helps). At this point Donnie is the only one who almost never leaves the sewers; April tries to get him to her place as often as possible, usually finding that asking for help is most effective.

And that's how they all live for fourish months before Leo finally (unexpectedly) returns.

[royalthedemigod]

alright, so I was thinking about beetlebabes. and, how could anyone not ship it? so, everyone talks about how in love beetlejuice is. but, what about lydia? i mean, surely, she did fall in love with Richard (astrids dad) at one point (obviously). but, after that, rory was just a rebound. here are some examples:

Scene 1: She could've gone to any other ghost (cause, you know, she has that ability), but she doesn't. She goes to Beetlejuice. and, immediately shows him and asks what everything means. cause, he must know everything, right? he knew everything last time. everyone thinks this was an "only hope" thing, but I don't think it was. No, not with Lydia.

and, she's terrified of the other side. she wasn't terrified of him. she stayed close to him the whole time.

Scene 2: as soon as he tells her the directions, she asks "where are you going?!" now, this could mean anything, i suppose. but, he was supposed to be by her side the whole time. "where are you going? weren't you supposed to lead me to her? i thought you weren't leaving?" Until he says "I'm going to the little boys room". Obviously, she gets annoyed at this and just finds Astrid anyway. Cause, she can't make him go with her....but he should've.....

Scene 3: This is the part where Beetlejuice shoots Rory with truth serum. Now, I don't exactly know if she saw what he was doing to Rory or not. So, I'm leaving that out. But, notice how, instead of moving away from Beetlejuice, she moves closer to him. She could've moved closer to her mom, or daughter, but no. She chose to move towards Beetlejuice. After, when he gave her that boxing glove, she punches Rory ONLY. She still hasn't hurt Beetlejuice in any way.

The fact that nothing is making her stay near him. She willingly stays there behind him. Still hasn't done a single thing to him. (i mean, neither has Delia and Astrid. They're all willingly standing there with him.)

Scene 4: This is where Astrid gets ahold of the book, and decides to summon a sandworm. Now, the reason Astrid did this was to to distract everyone so they (Delia, Her, and Lydia) can leave. Lydia thinks way differently. When she notices what they're doing, she looks to Rory and Rory only. Like, "yeah, you're screwed!" She doesn't look at anyone else, not even Beetlejuice.

Last Scene: After Astrid tells him off, Lydia rejects him. But, the only reason she does is because of the "6,000 year age gap". Not "Oh, you did stuff to my family", not any other reason. Because of the age gap.

Once she says his name 3 times, he blows and leaves. She looks back at him like "oh, that look like it hurt". Cause she thinks it did. Obviously, it didn't, but she doesn't think that.

Final Thoughts: I think she's just scared of genuine love. I mean, the last time she had genuine love was with Richard. And, they barely lasted. She said so herself "Our marriage was over before the accident". And, because Rory clearly didn't give her shit, she got scared. Not of Beetlejuice, but of what Beetlejuice is showing her.

If there ever is a 3rd movie, I really hope they get married. It's very well deserved for these 2.

This is the song I was listening to when thinking about beetlebabes, btw. (it also reminds me of Aziracrow. but, thats just me!)

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

On a quiet morning, when spring and warmer weather were finally on the cusp of the Capitol, Soarynn was stumped by a question that caused her fingers to stop their memorized pattern of braiding Ceraphina's hair.

"Soarynn, how do you know when you're in love?"

Soarynn blinks once, twice, three times. She's never really thought about that before. Of course, she's thought about love, being in love, falling in love. But truly, how does one know when they're in love?

"I...I don't know darling," she admits, grabbing another blonde curl and tucking it into the braid, "I suppose you just wake up one morning and know that you're with the right person."

"Okay, but how?"

Clearly, Soarynn's answer is insufficient for the young girl who's getting to that age where everything is "so romantic." Soarynn remembers being that way when she was little, thinking it was so wonderful how every adult around her was in love. Watching adults hold hands while crossing busy streets and share warm drinks on cold nights was the ultimate tribute to being in love in her eyes.

It also didn't help that she had grown up without witnessing her own parent's love due to the unfortunate death of her mother. She's sure that Ceraphina had experienced a bit of that as well, even though she knew her mother before she passed away.

But Coriolanus and Livia were never in love.

He's admitted to that countless times since they started courting, talked about how Livia made him feel as if he were stuck in the middle of a business arrangement. It often leads Soarynn to wonder how many other couples are simply together for all the wrong reasons and if she and Coriolanus are together for the wrong ones as well.

Not that there's anything wrong with them. After that little hallway incident, he's been nothing but sweet, showering her with words of adoration, tokens of his affection, and sweet gestures that go above and beyond. He's certainly a charmer.

But sometimes she wonders about how they met, how strange it is that a nanny ended up with her employer and then she just ends up feeling strange and icky.

At least she didn't break up their marriage. That's something she constantly reminds herself of. Their marriage was broken long before she came to the Snow family.

"It's this feeling you get inside of you," Soarynn says, placing a hand over her heart, "this feeling that you simply can't live without this person and you want to do everything with them, no matter how mundane or uncomfortable. With the love of your life, everything makes sense."

Ceraphina tilts her head, "Are you in love with Daddy?"

Soarynn already knows how she feels about Coriolanus, but she doesn't always know how he feels about her.

"I care very deeply about your father," she smoothly answers, giving Ceraphina a tight-lipped smile through the mirror's reflection. Ceraphina returns it with one of her own and kicks her feet as they dangle off the vanity stool, "Is Daddy your best friend?" Soarynn raises her eyebrows, she has friends, but a best friend is something she hasn't considered.

But the more she thinks about it, the more it seems plausible. They see each other every day, they spend lots of time together, they joke and laugh with one another, he makes her happy, she feels as though she can tell him anything. They're honest with each other.

Isn't that what a best friend is?

"He is," she confirms with a more genuine smile this time, "spending time with your father makes me very happy." Ceraphina giggles and cranes her neck back so that she's looking up at Soarynn, "Good! Because I asked him last night and he said that you were his best friend!"

Soarynn's eyes widen in surprise, she's forgotten how involved the girls can get with her relationship with their father. At first, she had worried there might be jealousy. They were the only girls in his life and now there was another woman but that wasn't the case. No, the girls were elated to have Soarynn and their father together, a little too elated sometimes since they were constantly hinting at marriage.

Which sometimes worried Soarynn because she didn't want to get her own hopes up let alone the children's. Coriolanus hadn't really ever talked about getting married again and it's not like she could blame him when his last marriage had a bit of a traumatic ending.

"Well, I'm glad that we're on the same page," she says, tying up Ceraphina's hair with a ribbon, "and you look so pretty darling, this is the perfect look for the museum today." Ceraphina smiles at her reflection, admiring Soarynn's handiwork with her hair, "Thank you!"

Soarynn presses a kiss to the top of her head before Ceraphina hops off of the stool and runs out into her bedroom, leaving Soarynn alone in the bathroom with a looming question.

Does Coriolanus see her as a potential wife?

꧁ ꧂

After contemplating her relationship in the bathroom for a good five minutes, Soarynn gathered herself and her thoughts before making her way out into the girls' room and instructing them to put on their shoes so they could depart for the museum.

"I'll go get your brother's shoes on and meet you in the hallway," she tells them, waiting for nods of confirmation so she can actually trust them to do what she said. Once both girls dutifully bob their heads up and down, Soarynn slips out into the hallway and heads toward Caspian's room. But then she stops when she sees several Avoxes walking in and out of the one room that is practically off-limits.

The master bedroom. Where she sleeps almost every night.

The Avoxes appear to be carrying lots of boxes in and out of the room which puzzles Soarynn. Just this morning she woke up in the arms of her lover and he hadn't mentioned any new furniture being moved into the room. Perhaps it's something that Eudora planned out and Coriolanus simply forgot about it.

Soarynn shrugs it off and gently opens the doors to Caspian's room, finding him right where she left him, on his new bed. Caspian has slept in a crib since the day she started working for the Snows but just last week he got a brand-new bed.

A "big-boy bed."

He's been very pleased with himself and his new bed, constantly climbing in and out of it for the fun of it. Coriolanus had worried that he might try to slip out of his room in the middle of the night but Soarynn reminded him of Caspian's inability to reach the door handles and that calmed him down.

It certainly is adorable to see him so excited about his new bed and the best thing about it is that he can now fit more stuffed animals on it compared to his crib where his space was more limited.

"Lenny go museum," he says the moment he lays eyes on Soarynn. The two-year-old boy has become more and more determined to bring Lenny everywhere and Soarynn has become more and more discouraged to argue with him since it'll often end in a tantrum. And for Caspian, a tantrum is him sitting facing the wall and not talking to anyone for at least two hours.

Which is the best tantrum she's ever seen but it's still a tantrum nonetheless.

"Lenny can come to the museum darling," she reassures him, "but we've got to get your shoes on first." His eyes scan his bedroom floor and Soarynn does the same thing because she swears that she laid out his shoes earlier this morning. Unless a certain toddler moved them and can't remember where he put them.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you Cas?"

He averts his gaze, staring up at the ceiling instead and Soarynn laughs, "I'll take that as a no." That's okay, he has more shoes than he'll ever need so she just goes into the closet to find another pair. She dressed him in khaki-colored pants, a little white shirt, and a red coat to go overtop for when they're outside. Soarynn grabs a small pair of brown leather shoes, humming to herself as she undoes the tiny laces. The thing she loves about children is how cute their clothes are.

She wonders how tiny baby clothes can get.

Does Coriolanus want another baby if they get married?

She really needs to get a grip on her thoughts because this is getting out of hand. Right now, all she needs to focus on is the children.

She has to be the nanny.

꧁ ꧂

There are days when Soarynn only sees Coriolanus once. Breakfast is a promised meeting time for the entire family no matter what the day holds and Soarynn looks forward to it immensely. The girls get to talk to Coriolanus until his ears fall off and Caspian gets to be near his father which is more than enough for him. Breakfast isn't really the time for Soarynn to butt in and talk, not when she often spends the nights with Coriolanus, wrapped up in his sheets.

But today is not one of those days. Because there are days when a person keeps running into the same person over and over again, as if the universe wants them to be together. Even if Soarynn has mixed feelings about that person right now because she doesn't know if he wants to get married and have more children with her.

Which is so utterly ridiculous and she knows that but it doesn't stop her heart from beating faster and faster whenever she thinks of him. Get it together, she tells herself while carrying a sleepy Caspian on her hip, you can talk to him about it tonight. The museum had been wonderful today, a new exhibit about the ocean opened up and the girls loved every second of it. The exhibit mostly focused on different marine life and even had a real whale skeleton.

Needless to say, they were at the museum for a long time.

Caspian was already falling asleep in the car but Soarynn tried to keep him awake until they got back home so she could put him down for a proper nap. "Bed," he mumbles while nuzzling his head against her neck. Soarynn hums, brushing some of his hair out of his face, "I know sweet boy, we'll get you down for a nap."

They ran into Eudora when they got back home and she took the girls to get a snack so Soarynn could put Caspian down for a nap. Soarynn starts walking up the back staircase, her head down as she focuses on the steps when she notices a pair of black leather shoes pass by her going in the opposite direction. She immediately looks up when the scent of roses washes over her and comes face to face with a grinning Coriolanus.

Her heart might beat out of her chest, she doesn't know why she's suddenly so nervous around him, it's probably got something to do with her stupid thoughts about the future and what it holds for them.

"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise?" He says, resting a hand on her arm. Soarynn forces a smile onto her face and nods, "Yes, yes it is. We just got back from the museum." A wave of recognition washes over his porcelain face, "Ah yes, I remember you mentioned it this morning at breakfast."

Soarynn hums but doesn't say anything else which is ironic since she's usually thrilled to run into Coriolanus in the middle of the day. He rarely ever leaves his study if he's working from home.

He furrows his eyebrows, looking her up and down in a concerned manner, "Are you feeling alright darling?"

"Mhm."

Caspian lifts his head after hearing his father's voice, "Lenny go nap."

Coriolanus gives Caspian a gentle squeeze, fixing the collar of his little coat, "Lenny isn't the only one who needs a nap." Soarynn chuckles softly, Caspian often projects his needs and wants onto Lenny, "What were you doing upstairs?" She asks, her curiosity getting the best of her. Coriolanus is a man who values routine and the only time he ever comes upstairs is if he needs to change his clothes but he appears to be wearing the same outfit he wore to breakfast this morning.

He coughs into his fist, looking down at the floor, "Just needed to grab something."

Now they're both lying.

"Alright. Well...I'll see you later then," she says softly, taking another step up. Coriolanus gives her a grunt of approval, "Yes, I was thinking we could have dinner tonight." She doesn't know if she can survive dinner with him tonight, not with her own thoughts running wild but she doesn't want to be rude or ungrateful, "That sounds wonderful," she lies.

He smiles although it doesn't reach his eyes the way a genuine smile does and leans forward to press a kiss to her cheek, "I'll see you tonight then darling."

Soarynn nods and turns to go up the rest of the stairs but she stops herself midway, unable to stop herself from asking the question that's been burning in her mind since doing Ceraphina's hair this morning, "Actually I," Coriolanus stops in his tracks, looking up at her from the first landing of steps, "Yes?"

Soarynn feels a rush of embarrassment wash over her. What a stupid thing to ask him right now, "Never mind," she says, going up the rest of the steps before he can stop her.

Soarynn scolds herself for acting so...so stupid! This morning she felt perfectly normal around Coriolanus, giddy even but now she can barely look the man in the eyes without wanting to ask him if they're ever going to get married or have children.

At least she has until tonight to get her thoughts and her act together.

Soarynn pads into Caspian's room, changing him into pajamas before tucking him into his new bed. She kisses his forehead and sings his favorite song, the meadow song, watching him drift off to sleep with Lenny in his grip. Soarynn watches him sleep for a while, enamored by the sweet boy who calls her his mother despite having no blood relation.

If Caspian considers her his mother then why should she even worry about Coriolanus wanting more children? Ceraphina, Celeste, and Caspian are more than perfect. If anything, Soarynn is selfish for wanting more children.

There, problem solved.

꧁ ꧂

"Soarynn dear, could you run this over to Coriolanus?"

Problem not solved.

Soarynn might throw up.

She just got downstairs after putting Caspian down for his nap and she was feeling much better before Eudora asked her that question. She thought she just solved her problem but just hearing his name made her feel nervous. She brushes her hair behind her ears, looking around the room to make sure that Eudora is talking to her and not someone else named Soarynn.

"Don't you want to do it?" She asks, doing her best to sound casual while stepping into the dining room. Eudora and the girls are all sitting at the table, cookies and tea in front of them although it looks like the girls are drinking apple juice from the tea cups instead of actual tea.

Eudora waves her off as if she's doing Soarynn a grand favor, "You'll be fine, just hand him this file. He asked me to go over it this morning for the upcoming Hunger Games."

Ah yes, the Hunger Games that Coriolanus has to keep running because apparently, his father created them. The night that Coriolanus told Soarynn about Lucy Gray, he also told her more about the origin of the Hunger Games and how his father and Casca Highbottom created them. It was apparently a drunk joke that was made but it turned into something much more sinister once it was written onto paper and turned in as an assignment to Dr. Gaul, one of the Head Gamemakers.

It had honestly horrified Soarynn to know that the reasoning behind twenty-four children being forced to fight to the death was due to a drunk joke but she kept those thoughts to herself. It's not like she could stop them now. Coriolanus didn't seem ecstatic about them either but as President of Panem, it was his job to see to it that they continued this pageantry.

Lucky him.

Soarynn slowly takes the file from Eudora, holding it at arm's length like it's a ticking time bomb, "I'll go give it to him," she finally says, accepting her fate. Eudora gives her a questionable look but nods, "We'll be right here dear."

"Tell Daddy we said hi," Celeste tells Soarynn who swallows and turns to walk back out of the dining room, a dark cloud looming over her once more.

She all but drags her feet down the long hallway that leads to his study, a hallway she normally skips down because it means getting to see Coriolanus. But not today.

She stops once she reaches the doors that lead to his study when she notices that they're not all the way closed. She can hear two muffled voices, male voices, one belongs to Coriolanus, and the other she can't quite place. It's terribly rude to eavesdrop but Soarynn can't help but lean in a little closer to peer inside of his study.

She can see Coriolanus sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand while he talks. She looks over at the other man and finds that it's Quintus Heavensbee, his most trusted advisor. It doesn't sound like they're talking about anything truly important, in fact, they're talking about women.

"...Perlina said it would be a nice trip but after what happened to you in Four, I just don't trust the Districts," Quintus says with a shake of his head, his back towards the doors. Coriolanus lets out a dry laugh, "I never trusted them to begin with. But after Four, the children will never go again." Soarynn agrees with him on that, the attack in District Four could've ended so badly for them. For her.

"They're leeches, filthy leeches that are desperate to get their hands on what matters most to you," Quintus tells him, "speaking of which, how are things with Soarynn?"

Her breath gets caught in her throat and she has to remind herself to breathe again while Coriolanus takes a sip of his drink, "Good, she's good, things are good. I'm taking her to dinner tonight."

Quintus nods and leans back in his chair, "I must say she looks nearly identical to Ceraphina, she could easily pass for her mother if I didn't know any better." Soarynn has to agree with that as well, she and Ceraphina share the same eye color and hair color, leading them to look like a mother-daughter duo. She certainly sees Ceraphina as her daughter, even if she shouldn't.

"Well she's more of a mother to her than Livia ever was," Coriolanus says, bitterness evident in his tone of voice, "and a better partner as well." Her heart flutters from the compliment, Soarynn has never been in a relationship before and she often wonders if she's doing enough. Coriolanus has always been one for words of praise but he could always just lie and be polite to protect her feelings.

"Could you see yourself marrying her?" Quintus asks and Soarynn nearly blacks out. It's as if the heavens above have answered her question! Now she just needs Coriolanus to answer the question and Coriolanus is the master at avoiding things he doesn't want to answer. He's an expert, in fact, diverting the topic by giving an answer completely unrelated to the question. Soarynn has called him out on it before and he's always grinned and claimed that it's a skill only the President can possess.

Coriolanus goes quiet, too quiet for her liking. Soarynn watches him think long and hard about that question, "Not tomorrow," Quintus adds, picking up on the lingering silence, "no one would blame you if you didn't want to remarry."

Coriolanus shakes his head, a determined look now on his face, "I could see myself marrying Soarynn," he answers confidently, "sooner rather than later if I'm being honest. Losing Livia taught me a valuable lesson, many lessons actually but it taught me that nothing is promised. If something were to happen to Soarynn and I missed my chance then I'd never forgive myself."

Soarynn turns around and lets out a silent scream of excitement before collecting herself and taking a few steps back as if she hasn't been listening to the conversation for the past five minutes. She raises her fist to knock on the doors and makes her presence known this time, "Coriolanus? I have something to give you from Eudora."

She listens to their conversation come to a halt and hears someone get up and shuffle towards the doors. Quintus is the one who opens them, greeting her with a kind smile, "Hello Soarynn, how are you today?" She returns his smile with one of her own, genuine this time now that she doesn't have that nagging thought in her head, "Hello Quintus, I'm absolutely wonderful."

He steps to the side so she can walk inside and she's met with a skeptical look from Coriolanus who remains seated on the sofa, "Really? Because when I saw you on the staircase you looked like you were about to be sick." Soartynn waves him off, crossing the room to hand him the file, "I'm perfectly fine," she tells him, "you shouldn't worry about me, darling." The random use of the petname brings a blush to his cheeks and Quintus chuckles, "It's the President's job to worry, isn't it Coriolanus?"

Coriolanus still seems to be in a confused daze but he quickly shakes it off, taking the file from her and adopting the more stern look she's used to seeing from him, "Yes, quite right. Thank you for bringing me the file Soarynn."

Soarynn nods and she can't help but keep going now that she doesn't have any existential dread weighing her down, "What were you two just talking about a moment ago?"

Both men answer her at the same time.

"Taxes."

"Trains."

Soarynn raises her eyebrows, looking back and forth as they clear their throats in an effort to look less guilty, "Taxes and trains? What a thrilling topic." Coriolanus quickly rises to his feet, setting down his glass and the file, both long forgotten, "Yes, it's riveting stuff darling but I think I hear the children calling for you and I have much to do before tonight." He rests a hand on her back and gently guides her past Quintus towards the doors.

Soarynn innocently looks up at him from over his shoulder, "I didn't hear the children."

"You might need to get your ears checked then. I'll see you tonight," he says, kissing her temple before he gently pushes her out into the hall and shuts the doors in her face.

Soarynn crosses her arms, getting her ears checked, please.

Why can't men ever just come out and say what they mean? And they say women are complicated creatures.

꧁ ꧂

Later that day, Soarynn finds herself wondering about something else, something less important.

What is she going to wear tonight?

No matter where they go or what they do, Coriolanus and Soarynn always dress up for the occasion. Soarynn has always enjoyed dressing up for herself and no one else but now that she's in a relationship, it's an added bonus to have a grown man drooling over her.

"Would you two like to help me choose my outfit for tonight?" She asks the girls while they have an early dinner. The girls both gasp, eager to participate in the adult activity of preparing for date night. If they had their way, they'd come with Soarynn and Coriolanus but he's remained very firm that going out on dates is a two-person job.

But that doesn't stop the girls from asking to come. So Soarynn has found that them helping her get ready makes their separation much easier. And although she'd never admit it, easier for her as well.

"Yes!" Ceraphina says, bouncing in her seat, "Can we put on your makeup too?" Makeup is a bit more risky since Soarynn has found out that the girls love to use a heavy hand when applying things such as blush. "Oh, I was thinking you two might help me pick out a bag too," she adds, earning her more excited gasps. Caspian who's sitting in her lap, rests a hand on her arm, "Momma stay."

Her smile falters at his request, maybe she should stay, she and Coriolanus just went out to dinner a few nights ago. But Eudora is quick to intervene, "I thought we might watch one of your favorite films tonight children." Caspian perks up when he hears that, he loves to watch films, especially ones that feature animals. Coriolanus is pretty strict about how much television the children can watch and only permits a certain amount of time per week that they can spend in front of the large screen.

A film is a special treat.

He looks back up at Soarynn, a change of heart, "Momma go."

Soarynn and Eudora laugh at the sudden switch and Soarynn presses a kiss to his head, "Eager to get rid of me hmm?"

"Eudora, can I ask you a question?" Ceraphina asks sweetly, batting her eyelashes which causes Eudora to raise an eyebrow. Ceraphina has a habit of asking the craziest questions at the worst times, it's truly a gift. "Yes, you may dear."

"Have you ever been in love?"

Eudora lets out another laugh, a dismissive one at that, and shakes her head, "I don't believe in relationships dear, they're far too complicated for a woman of my age and status to concern myself with."

Ceraphina frowns, slouching in her seat, "You never fell in love? Ever? Not even once?"

Eudora shakes her head, sighing, "No, well...there was that one time," she mumbles the last part. Soarynn and the children lean in, eager to hear about Eudora Trinket's one love. "Who was he?" Celeste asks, "Or she?"

Eudora looks up at the ceiling dramatically, as if reliving her last moments with her lover, "We were too different," she exclaims, "I was in love with schedules, planning, telling people what to do. And he..." She looks back down at the table, grabbing her napkin and dabbing at her eyes, "He was in love with the weather."

It takes them a full ten seconds to realize who she's talking about.

"Lucky?!" Soarynn asks, unable to believe that Eudora and Lucky have ever shared a single interest let alone a conversation. The girls look as surprised as she is, even Caspian seems to be in denial. Eudora shrugs, "I like a man with a mustache, what can I say? But we were too different, we had different passions and when two people are in love, that means that they must sometimes give up their passions for one another."

She has a valid point.

Coriolanus is passionate about being President, being a leader, a beacon of stability.

But what is Soarynn passionate about?

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn pokes at her pasta, pushing it around on the plate. It's quiet in the restaurant but that's because Coriolanus bought out the entire room so they could dine privately. A man of grand gestures.

"Are you not hungry?"

She looks up from her plate, finding Coriolanus eyeing her plate of pasta, "I am," she tells him, "I just can't stop thinking about what Eudora said earlier when we were all having dinner together."

Coriolanus takes a sip of his wine before asking, "What did she say at dinner?"

Soarynn sighs, she's sure he's already aware that Eudora was in love with Lucky Flickerman at one point so she chooses to leave that part out, "She was talking about passions and now I can't stop thinking about what my passion is." She pokes at her pasta some more before setting down her fork, "My pasta is probably cold anyway," she grumbles.

Coriolanus gives her a knowing look and waves over their waiter who appears at their table within seconds, "Could you reheat this for her please?" Coriolanus asks, handing over Soarynn's plate to the eager waiter who promises to bring back an entire new plate for her.

She bites her lip, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to act ungrateful. I just can't stop thinking about it." Coriolanus reaches his hand across the table and Soarynn takes it, watching his long fingers intertwine with her shorter ones. "I'd say you're acting preoccupied, not ungrateful," he argues, squeezing her hand, "and I think it's rather obvious what your passions are darling."

She looks up at him confusedly, "It is?"

He chuckles, "Yes, it is. You're so clearly passionate about helping others. You love to lift other people up, you love to connect with those around you, making them feel at ease."

Was it that obvious?

The waiter comes back with a steaming plate of pasta and Soarynn must admit, it looks much tastier when it hasn't been sitting in front of her for ten minutes, "Thank you," she says to the man.

"Of course, Ms. Nightingale."

Soarynn catches Coriolanus staring at her empty ring finger for only a moment before he lets go of her hand, "How did you even get on the topic of passions? Are the children already diving into these deep topics at such a young age?" Soarynn softly laughs and picks up her fork again, appetite regained, "No, Ceraphina asked Eudora if she's ever been in love before."

Coriolanus leans in, already hooked, "Has she?"

Soarynn nods, wrapping several strings of pasta around her fork, "She has."

"With who?"

Soarynn takes her time bringing the pasta to her mouth, watching Coriolanus eagerly await her answer while she slowly chews and swallows, "Lucky Flickerman," she finally says once her mouth isn't full and Coriolanus is taking another sip of his wine. He almost chokes on it, covering his mouth with his own napkin while he recovers and Soarynn giggles, "We didn't believe her either," Soarynn tells him, "but apparently, she has a thing for men with mustaches."

Coriolanus laughs, a real laugh, not a practiced one that he pulls out when they're in public. A laugh that she has been given the privilege of hearing. "I don't believe it," he says, shaking his head, "Eudora has never mentioned her and Lucky before and that's not something that just slips past me." Soarynn shrugs, she's sure that quite a few things manage to slip past Coriolanus unbeknownst to him and someone's dating history certainly qualifies.

"Would it have mattered?" She asks, curious as to how Eudora was even hired in the first place. Did Eudora work for the former President? Or do Presidents hire out their own staff once they're in office?

Coriolanus gives her a confused look and she elaborates, "If you knew that she and Lucky had a former relationship would it have affected you hiring her? I know you can see everyone's files but I highly doubt that past relationships are listed."

"It wouldn't have mattered," he answers, setting down his glass of wine, "and the only information I can see about past relationships is if someone has been divorced or not." Her eyes grow bigger at the mention of divorce, something that's practically unheard of in the elite circles. Divorce is a one-way ticket to being shunned by high society. Unless there's a case of abuse or infidelity, couples stay together, happy or not.

Or your spouse can succumb to a sudden deadly illness like Livia and then you'll end up like Coriolanus.

Those thoughts bring her back to the idea of marriage and children and she just can't help herself from asking the next question, "Do you want children?"

Coriolanus freezes, the room feels much quieter now, much colder and Soarynn's worried that she's truly crossed the line this time. He clears his throat, "I would argue that I already have three perfect children," he tells her slowly. Soarynn must look crazy but she has to know if he wants children with her.

"I meant...I meant with me," she says exasperatedly, grabbing her napkin and twisting it in her hands, "if we were to get married tomorrow then would you want to have children with me?"

His face remains neutral, emotionless which means he's thinking hard about her question. Soarynn has gotten better at reading his facial expressions but he's always been so good at guarding them.

"I think it's expected for any wife to bear the children her husband gifts her," he says, scratching the back of his neck, "as for you, I would expect no less. Children are our legacy, you are your family's legacy and I am mine."

He's right, she's the last Nightingale which is a bit of a terrifying thought if she's being completely honest. She's all alone in this world, no wonder people have lots of children. "I don't mean to be so prying," she tells him, brushing her hair behind her ears nervously, "I just started thinking about it and now I can't stop."

His face softens, showing his true colors and how much he cares for her, "Darling, you could've avoided all of this if you just asked me sooner, it's not a prying thing to ask the man you're courting."

He's right. Soarynn didn't know why she was so worried when it was that easy. She nods, "I know, I just don't want to be another thing for you to worry about." Coriolanus chuckles softly, reaching back across the table and Soarynn gladly takes his hand in hers, "I worry about you regardless," he tells her, "and should we get married and have more children, I'll worry about them as well."

So he does want to marry her!

Hearing it directly instead of eavesdropping feels like a weight has been lifted off of her chest. Soarynn gives him a smile, as genuine as it gets, and squeezes his hand, "I'll hold you to that."

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Three Months Later ꧂

"And what is this for again?" Soarynn asks, looking down at an ornate vision board for an event Eudora is putting together. The older woman waves her off as if this whole thing is insignificant despite how much she's been stressing over it, "It's for after the Hunger Games dear, Corioalnus wants to throw a little party to celebrate."

Soarynn frowns, the Snows have been throwing more parties since she started working for them but this seems...odd. "Aren't we already throwing a party the day of the Reaping?"

Eudora shrugs, flipping through more pages of her binder, "The more the merrier dear, now which tablecloths do you like, the cream or the pearl?" Soarynn compares the two swatches of white fabric, nearly identical and yet too different to the trained eye. Coriolanus would simply pick the first one and move on from there but being a woman means that Soarynn actually appreciates these things.

She has a good eye for decorations and notices the smallest details.

"That's why I have you darling," he'd say whenever she'd point something out that he would've never noticed.

"This seems like a lot of white for a party celebrating the Hunger Games," she murmurs, feeling that the colors should be blood-red, not pretty white shades. "Nonsense, it's a clean slate," Eudora insists, holding up the swatches to the light, "white represents becoming new. We'll have a new Victor on our hands won't we?"

"I suppose," Soarynn replies, pointing at the cream-colored swatch, "and I like the cream one the best."

"I was thinking the same thing."

Both women smile at each other, Soarynn has found a good friend in Eudora Trinket, as well as some sort of a mother figure as well. Eudora is a beacon of reassurance, as long as she's around, they can't mess anything up.

Celeste comes running into the sitting room a second later, entirely out of breath and in a rush as she slowly comes to a stop. Soarynn and Eudora give her a glance before turning back to their work, looking at different centerpieces now that the tablecloths have been selected. Celeste tugs on Soarynn's dress and she looks down at the child, "Yes sweetheart?"

"The painting is gone," Celeste says, her blue eyes filled with vigor and conviction.

Soarynn frowns, glancing at Eudora who looks as lost as she is, "The patining?" She repeats, hoping for some clarification. Celeste nods, swaying back and forth on her heels, "Mhm, it's gone."

Without any further explanation, she runs back out of the room, leaving Soarynn and Eudora very confused as to what all of that was about. "Children are always so vague," Eudora says, clearly not as bothered by Celeste's strange behavior as Soarynn is, "Yes, yes they are," Soarynn agrees.

Forty-five minutes later, a party has been planned and a color scheme decided on. Soarynn and Eudora go their separate ways, Soarynn to the front of the house to get the children from Ceraphina's piano lesson, and Eudora to the kitchen to prepare the kitchen staff for the upcoming parties and their menus.

As Soarynn walks through the great hall, she notices something out of the corner of her eye.

Something missing.

The painting.

It's pretty fucking hard to miss too. What used to be a giant painting of the entire Snow family is now gone, with only a bare wall to show that there was once a large object taking up its space. Soarynn stops dead in her tracks, looking around to see if perhaps it was taken down for cleaning purposes but she finds no trace of it anywhere. It's pretty much impossible to hide something of that size but she's hoping it might be hiding under a rug or a table.

It was a beautiful painting in Soarynn's opinion. The children were much younger than they are now, and Livia was well and alive. But now it's gone. And it's left a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Why would Coriolanus have it removed?

Soarynn shakes her head in an effort to shake away those thoughts, she can no longer hear the incorrect piano keys being played so that means Ceraphina's lesson has come to a close. She'll have to ask Coriolanus about it later.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn drags her fingers along the bathwater's surface, popping a few bubbles in the process.

Bathtime is often when she hits a mental wall, she's tired and ready for the day to end even if the children insist that they can easily stay up for another six hours.

She watches Celeste play with her designated "bath time mermaids" which are really just dolls that she plays with in the tub, and a soft smile graces her lips. She loves this little girl so much.

"The painting is gone," she says, catching Celeste off guard but she quickly recovers and her eyes are as wide as they've ever been, "you were right."

Celeste quickly nods, grabbing the edge of the tub, "You saw it?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper even though it's just the two of them in the bathroom right now. Soarynn hums, reaching out to brush her curls off of her forehead, "I did. Although I don't know why it was removed." She can only imagine why, nothing was wrong with the painting and how the hallway just looks empty without it.

Celeste smiles, nearly bouncing out of the tub which causes some water to splash onto the floor, "It means something's gonna happen Soarynn!"

Soarynn does not share Celeste's enthusiasm, "Like what?"

Celeste shrugs, settling back down in the tub, "I don't know," she admits, still grinning ear to ear, "but it's gotta mean something right?"

Soarnyn purses her lips while she thinks about the possibilities and a very specific one crosses her mind but she doesn't dare speak it into existence.

"I suppose it does," is all she replies with, grabbing the shampoo, "now let's wash your hair darling."

꧁ ꧂

After putting all three children to bed, Soarynn finds herself strolling the halls of the President's Mansion. She knows the place like the back of her hand now that she lives here although the children always know the best places to hide when they play hide-and-seek. She passes the massive doors that lead to the ballroom and sees several Avoxes mopping and floors, preparing for the parties they'll be hosting for the upcoming Hunger Games.

She's almost been here for a year and yet it feels like ten.

Soarynn sighs, she ought to take a walk outside since Coriolanus won't be getting home until late since he's at dinner. She'll go upstairs and get her coat.

She quietly climbs up the stairs and comes across Petunia lying in the middle of the hallway, her tail flicking back and forth while she watches Soarynn approach her, "Hello Petunia," she greets the feline who purrs in response and rolls onto her back. Soarynn chuckles, crouching down to rub her soft belly, "Have any more paintings gone missing or am I slowly losing it?" She asks, more to herself than to the cat.

Coriolanus had that painting removed on purpose. To send a message.

But what message is he trying to convey?

Soarynn stands back up, Petunia following her to the bedroom that is now as good as hers ever since Coriolanus had her move in with him. On the same day that Soarynn was spiraling about having children with Coriolanus, she had witnessed several boxes being moved in and out of his bedroom. She hadn't really paid it any mind since her mind was very preoccupied at the moment but after they returned home from dinner that night, she discovered that he had removed all of Livia's clothing and brought in Soarynn's.

It had rendered her speechless. She was more than used to going to her room whenever she was in need of clothes so to have him remove his late wife's clothing without her even mentioning it left her feeling slightly perturbed. Sure it was a sign of moving forward from her death but it was still quite a shock.

Now she fully lived in his room. She got dressed in his room, showered in his room, and slept in his room. Things were very official.

But she would be lying if she said that having a 'his and hers' closet didn't make her a little bit giddy. His side was filled with expensive tailored suits whereas her side was filled with dresses, skirts, blouses, pants, and lots of shoes. Coriolanus often liked to surprise her with a new handbag or pair of shoes. He'd leave it on the large table they had in the middle of the walk-in closet, next to the vase of fresh roses that always sat in the center.

But as she walks into the bedroom, she feels as if the pieces are slowly falling together.

The closet, the painting, the all-white color scheme for this Hunger Games party suddenly popping up on the schedule, the schedule that Eudora briefed her on at the beginning of June that she swore would not change.

Coriolanus is going to propose to her.

Soarynn feels as if the floor has been pulled out from under her.

She needs to get out, go for a walk, clear her head.

She hurries into the closet and snatches the first coat she sees and throws it on, striding out into the bedroom once again, feeling hot and flushed. Petunia meows for her attention but Soarynn's mind is so, so far away from here right now. "I'll be back soon," she mutters, pulling open the doors and slipping into the hallway. She makes her way downstairs and towards the sitting room that Eudora frequents the most. Sure enough, she's sitting at the coffee table with several folders spread out in front of her.

Soarynn clears her throat, causing Eudora to jump, "Oh! Soarynn, I thought you'd be in bed by now." Soarynn shook her head, she couldn't sleep right now if she tried. "I um, I need to run a quick errand," she tells Eudora, her voice low and hushed even though they're the only ones in the room right now, "I'll be back soon."

Eudora looks at her current attire and Soarynn can see a few questions popping up in her head right now but she asks none, "Alright dear, I'll listen out for the children." Soarynn forces a polite smile onto her lips, "Thank you, I shouldn't be too long."

Soarynn goes to the side entrance of the house where a car with a driver is always waiting, "The Capitol Cemetary please," she says to the driver as she slips into the car.

The drive is short but her mind is buzzing the entire time.

When will he propose? Do the children know?

Eudora certainly does if she's planning the damn thing. Or at least some sort of party to celebrate their engagement.

She wonders what Coriolanus is doing right now, if he's thinking of her the way she's thinking of him. She thinks of him constantly now that they're officially together but she often wonders if he does the same thing. He says he does, and he also says that the dinners he attends are very boring, filled with old men who have great influence in Panem. He says he'll introduce her to them at the Reaping party.

She can't wait.

The car slowly rolls up to the gates of the cemetery and she begins to worry when she sees that they're closed. Which is perfectly understandable considering the time of day. Ten o'clock at night.

A Peacekeeper standing by the gates approaches the car and Soaeynn can only hear a muffled conversation between him and her driver. The Peacekeeper walks to her window, peering through the tinted glass and Soarynn rolls it down, flashing him her prettiest smile, "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," she says sweetly, "it'll only be a moment." The Peacekeeper, a man who looks to be about the same age as her swallows down a lump in his throat, "Of course ma'am."

That's all it takes for her to gain entry.

The driver rolls the partition down, looking at her through the rearview mirror, "Where to Ms. Nightingale?"

She supposes it would look less suspicious if she went to her own parent's graves, "The West Side please." It's a short drive to that side of the Cemetery and Soarynn can feel her heart pounding. If this is all going to happen, then she has to make peace with her conscious, and those who came before her.

The driver opens the door, offering her a gloved hand as she steps out, "Thank you," she says to the man, "I won't be long."

He eyes her warily, "I could accompany you if you'd like Ms. Nightingale." That just won't do. She knows he means well but Soarynn has a plan and she's sticking to it. "No need to worry about me," she assures him, "I'll be back soon." The driver doesn't look too convinced but he doesn't push it and gets back into the car. Soarynn disappears down the tree-lined path toward the other side of the Cemetery, walking past her parent's graves at a swift pace.

She'll pay them a visit later.

She finally sets her sights on what she came here for.

Livia Snow's grave.

It's just her luck that the groundskeeper is walking out of the mausoleum. Coriolanus told her that he had people clean it every week to keep it in perfect condition. Although they never truly loved each other, Livia was the mother of his children, and he'd be a fool to disrespect the dead.

Soarynn quietly approaches the large stone building, watching the groundskeeper sweep the pathway leading up to the doors that she's never entered. He perks up when he notices her, wrapped in her coat, probably a manic look in her eyes as well. "Good...good evening Ms. Nightingale," the older man says, bowing his head. Ever since she started courting Coriolanus, Soarynn's name has become well-known in the Capitol.

She's reached celebrity status and she doesn't always know how to feel about it. But tonight, she'll use it to her advantage.

"Good evening," she replies, "I don't mean to be a bother, but I was hoping to maybe have a moment alone," she nods towards the mausoleum and his eyes follow her gaze. "Oh, oh I see. The Snows are quite particular about who's allowed inside ma'am," he tells her, "only immediate family is allowed."

Soarynn wants to tell him that the entire reason she's here in the first place is because she's about to become immediate family but she withholds that information, "I understand, I'll let Coriolanus know that I wasn't allowed inside," she says with a feigned disappointed sigh. The man quickly perks up at the mention of the President, "Well you might as well go in," he says, digging into his pockets and pulling out a ring of keys, "I wouldn't want to let President Snow down."

Neither would I, she thinks to herself while he unlocks the doors that open with a heavy groan. She slowly steps inside, it's quite dark except for the small lantern above her. Soarynn sets her eyes on the casket at the very back of the building, made of dark wood with roses engraved into it. Her breaths grow shaky as she walks further inside, looking around at all the things that have been left inside as tribute.

There's a vase of roses, and she also sees several cards with children's handwriting and even a stuffed bear sitting against the steps leading up to Livia's casket. Soarynn stops when her heels touch the first step and she crouches down to pick up one of the cards. From what she can tell, it's Ceraphina's handwriting. There's a drawing on the front of the card of the entire family, it's so sweet and heartbreaking at the same time. Soarynn opens the card and her eyes immediately fill with tears.

'I miss you Mommy'

Soarynn carefully sets the card back down and makes her way up the three marble steps, resting her hand on the smooth wooden top of the casket. If she were to push it off, she'd come face-to-face with Livia Snow. Windows let in the pale moonlight and Soarynn notices a framed photograph on the windowsill directly in front of the casket, a photograph of Livia and Coriolanus on their wedding day. Neither of them is smiling but it reminds Soarynn why she came here in the first place.

"I came here...I came here to talk to you," she says quietly, "I've been taking care of your children for quite some time now and there's not a day that goes by where they don't think of you."

Soarynn tries to blink away the tears but it's no use and they spill down her cheeks, "I love Coriolanus, I love him very much and I think he's going to ask me to marry him but I couldn't in good consciousness accept his proposal without coming to you first and telling you that I'll take care of your children. I'll love them like my own and protect them with my every being. And I'll...I'll make a good man out of him, out of Coriolanus. He's trying to be better, I can see it in the way he treats those around him, how he is with the children."

Is Livia Snow scowling down at her? Does she think of Soarynn as some lovesick fool? Or does she want Coriolanus to be happy again?

"I'll make him happy," she whispers, "and make sure that your children remain happy. No harm will befall them as long as I'm around, I promise."

Soarynn stands there for a few more minutes, sniffling while feeling sorry for herself. She highly doubts that Livia ever cried about an upcoming proposal but she lived such a different life than Soarynn, she married an entirely different man.

Soarynn finally gathers herself, wiping her tears and regaining her composure. "We will always keep you in our memories," she whispers before turning to walk down the steps.

Her heels echo on the marble floors and she feels a wave of relief wash over her when she steps out into the summer night. The groundskeeper gives her a curious look, "All is well Ms. Nightingale?"

Soarynn nods, already feeling much better now that she did what needed to be done, "All is well. Thank you for letting me visit."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn stops at her parent's graves before leaving. Even in death, they're still together, and that brings her comfort knowing that not even death can keep love apart.

"It's been a while," she says, dusting off any leaves from the tops of their tombstones, "but so much has happened. I met someone, he makes me happy. He has three children, they're as sweet as can be. I think I'm going to marry him."

Saying those words out loud makes it feel very real all of a sudden.

After her father died, Soarynn learned that acceptance was the hardest part of grief. Accepting that nothing could be done differently was a hard thing to do, but it was all one could do.

"When I come back I'll bring my children," she tells her parents, kissing the tips of her fingers and touching both of their tombstones.

She means it too. She'll be back.

꧁ ꧂

The President's Mansion is silent when Soarynn returns.

Another car was already parked at the side entrance which means Coriolanus is already home. Soarynn makes her way upstairs, peeking into the children's bedrooms once more to make sure they're asleep. Caspian is curled up in his bed, Lenny wrapped in a tight grip as if he might try to slip away. The girls are both sound asleep under the canopy bed, their new nightlight shining stars onto the ceiling for them while they dream sweet dreams.

Soarynn quietly closes the doors with a soft smile on her face, a day will come when they don't sleep in the same room anymore or require bedtime stories and she's not sure that she's ready for that day yet.

When Soarynn walks into her own bedroom she finds Petunia sitting at the foot of the bed, a black sock in her mouth which means she stole it from Coriolanus. He hadn't been exactly thrilled when Petunia started sleeping in their room but Soarynn argued that if the cat couldn't stay, then neither could she.

The two had since grown a small rivalry between each other. Petunia would steal his socks and neckties and Coriolanus would steal Soarynn and her attention that was usually given to Petunia.

Heaven forbid they get a dog.

Soarynn chuckles softly as she approaches Petunia and gently reaches out to pull the sock from her mouth, “You have more toys than you know what to do with and yet you insist on taking Coryo’s socks,” Soarynn says with a shake of her head.

Petunia doesn’t seem bothered by this issue that has constantly been brought up since she was moved to this bedroom but she does let go of the sock which is progress. Sometimes it’s a bit of a battle to get her to release the socks and it often ends in both parties feeling very offended.

Soarynn doesn’t hear the shower running which means Coriolanus is probably finishing up, ready for bed which sounds wonderful right now. All she wants to do is curl up in bed with the man she's been falling in love with over the past few months.

What could be better than that?

She expects to find him hunched over the sink when she walks into the bathroom, brushing his teeth or washing his face. Although Coriolanus is as masculine as they come, he's quite rigorous with his nightly routines, ensuring that his skin is properly taken care of.

But the bathroom is empty.

The closet doors are open and Soarynn slowly approaches them, slightly stunned to find Coriolanus sitting on the bench they have in the closet right in front of the of the table. It's usually used for Soarynn to sit on when she puts her shoes on in the morning but today it's being used by Coriolanus who's holding a single white rose in his hand. Soarynn glances at the table and finds a whole bouquet sitting there for her accompanied by a card.

She didn't even notice the gift when she came to get her coat.

Coriolanus has already shed his outer layers, leaving him in a white button-up shirt and black pants which he manages to look like peak fashion. He finally looks up at her and Soarynn feels caught even though she's done nothing wrong. He looks tired, he looks like he expected her to be waiting for him when he got back and she usually is.

But not tonight. The roles have been reversed.

"Hi," she says softly, "how was dinner?"

From what Coriolanus has told her, the dinners he attends are often business-related and very boring. She still asks about them even though he rarely goes into detail about what was discussed. He gives her a look, a condescending, sharp look as if she's greatly disappointed him, "Dinner was good," he answers curtly, twisting the rose in between his fingers, "I kept thinking about coming home to you, so imagine my surprise when Eudora said that you stepped out."

Soarynn feels frozen, she feels caught, like she's done something wrong even though she hasn't. If only he knew what it's been like to live in her mind the past few hours.

"I just had to go do something," she starts but he holds his hand up, stopping her, silencing her, "You just had to go do something at ten o'clock at night?" He stands up slowly, letting the rose fall onto the floor and he takes a step towards her, Soarynn has always admired how big Coriolanus is but right now he's damn near frightening. He looms over her and looks down at her, his jaw tightening and his muscles tense, "Tell me Soarynn, do you take me for a fool?"

Soarynn is speechless. He hasn't even heard her out and he's already acting accusatory, "I don't take you for much of anything right now," she answers truthfully and it does nothing but upset him further but they can both be upset together as far as she's concerned.

"I don't speak about Livia often but she'd nev-"

Soarynn is turning on her heel before he can even finish that sentence before he can finish comparing her to his dead wife, "Well I'm not Livia," she calls back from the bathroom, "and I'm not running around behind your back being unfaithful either even though you certainly seem to have made up your mind already as to what I was doing before I got back." She watches him emerge from the closet through the mirror's reflection, he looks upset that she left him and more upset that he came home and she wasn't here to greet him.

But Soarynn is more than upset. She's pissed.

She finally turns back around to face him, some fire has been lit inside of her since visiting Livia's grave and it's about time she set some rules around here if she's going to marry this man who drives her mad. "And I will not tolerate you walking all over me," she tells him matter-of-factly, taking slow steps towards him, "I will not allow you to accuse me of being unfaithful when I have been nothing of the sort. Or do you want to revisit the last time you accused me of such things?" She asks, tilting her head up at him while they both remember how he fired her without so much as hearing her out after Festus came onto her.

A painful memory for both of them but for very different reasons.

Coriolanus is on the losing side of this battle and he's slowly realizing it but he's stubborn and arrogant at times so he won't just back down. He's not built like that, wasn't raised like that.

"Then where were you?" He asks, his hand coming up to grip her jaw, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. Soarynn gives him a defiant look, "I was paying my respects," she tells him, "at the Cemetery." A confused look washes over his face, she's sure that he imagined the worst, her tangled up in bed with another man. Not running around the Cemetery in the middle of the night.

"The Cemetery," he repeats but this time there's no bitterness in his tone, no venom or malice. Just confusion. Soarynn nods to the best of her ability with him holding her face in his large hand, "It was long overdue and I needed to make peace with some things before I..." Her voice trails off because she can't tell him that she knows, that she's put the pieces together, "Before I fully committed myself to you," she finishes.

There, that wasn't so hard.

Coriolanus still looks confused, vexed by her wording and Soarynn places a hand on his chest, "You can ask my driver if you want," she says slowly, "he'll tell you the same thing I did."

That jolts Coriolanus out of his confusion and he clears his throat, quickly shaking his head and releasing her jaw, "I believe you," he tells her, "and you're right, you're nothing like Livia and I would do well to remember that."

Soarynn hums in agreement, she knows it'll take him some time to unlearn old habits but she's more than willing to be a patient teacher, "Yes you would. I much prefer us when we don't argue." Coriolanus lets out a breathy laugh, carding his fingers through his messy curls, unruly after a long day of work, "I do as well," he admits, "I was just, I expected you to be here when I got back so when you weren't I..."

"You thought the worst," Soarynn finishes for him, slipping her hand into his, intertwining their fingers, "and I understand why you would start to worry but in the future, talk to me before accusing me alright?"

A remorseful look grows across his handsome features, he looks so very sorry for how he just treated her, "I will, and I'm sorry," he tells her, bringing their intertwined hands up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of her hand, "I trust you Soarynn. I don't want you to think that I don't."

Soarynn could always chew him out just a little longer, just for the fun of it but she's not a masochist. And she doesn't enjoy seeing others at their lowest. "I trust you too," she says, pushing herself to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek which feels a bit rough, "and I think you need to shave."

They both laugh at her comment, Coriolanus always shaves his face at night and Soarynn appreciates a clean-shaven face compared to a rough one. The girls do as well, whenever they give Coriolanus a kiss on the cheek they make sure to let him know if he needs to grab a fresh razor blade.

"Then why don't you help me," he offers, pulling them towards the counter.

Soarynn can't hide her look of surprise, she's seen him shave before but she's never helped him do it, only watched while she did her own thing. "Are you sure?" She asks while he pulls open one of the drawers on his side of the counter, she wouldn't want to accidentally cut his handsome face.

"Of course," he says, brandishing a razor along with a bottle of what must be shaving cream, "I trust you."

Soarynn's not sure that she trusts herself with a job like this but she still shrugs off her coat and slips out of her heels, leaving her in the dress she wore today.

She leans against the counter, admiring their shared bathroom space. Before she moved in with him, this bathroom was sparse. The countertops had nothing on them aside from a bottle of cologne or a box of tissues. Now that Soarynn lives here, there are lots of feminine products for her face and hair. She has a small makeup organizer that sits on top of the counter, it has roses painted on the side of it and it holds her favorite makeup products. There's also a photo of Soarynn with the children from one of their many visits to the museum.

She likes to look at it while she does her hair. The bathroom is huge to put it plainly and Soarynn has more than enough to fill it up. There's also a built-in vanity by the shower where she often does her makeup if she doesn't feel like standing at the counter. A small vase of roses sits on the vanity counter, always fresh from Coriolanus who insists that she's as pretty as a rose.

"If I nick you then you'll only have yourself to blame," she tells him as he comes over to her side of the counter with his tools in hand. Coriolanus shrugs, "That's a risk I'm willing to take if it means you'll kiss me on the cheek more often, now hop onto the counter darling."

Soarynn eyes the counter warily, she's never sat on it before and she doesn't doubt its ability to hold her up but she does doubt her ability to keep her dress from getting shaving cream on it. "Let me take my dress off first," she murmurs, reaching behind her to pull down the zipper. She slips out of her dress without even thinking about how sensual it might look to Coriolanus who is a man who often thinks with what's between his legs rather than his head.

In only her bralette and underwear, Soarynn hops onto the counter, her legs dangling off the edge, "Where do I start?" She asks, ignoring Coriolanus and his slacked jaw while he shamelessly eyes her almost naked body, "I don't think you're finished," he teases, going to pull the strap to her bralette off of her shoulder but Soarynn slaps his hand away, "Behave yourself," she chides, "and hand me the razor."

Coriolanus does as he's told but begins unbuttoning his shirt, baring his chest to her which does unspeakable things to the mind that Soarynn desperately tries to keep pure. He smirks at how he's affected her by simply taking off his shirt and leans down to press a kiss to her lips, "Now we're even," he murmurs while kissing her. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, shaving long forgotten once his hands wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Even on the counter she's still shorter than him but she doesn't mind, especially when his hands slide down to her ass, making her whimper, "We need to focus," she says between kisses.

Coriolanus groans when her own hands come to rest on his belt, tugging at the buckle, "Focus on what?" Soarynn giggles into the kiss, over the past few months they've gotten to know every inch of each other, including their most intimate areas. Coriolanus is a man who gets off on watching his partner being pleasured which is great for Soarynn who loves when he goes down on her. He'll often wake her up by slipping under the covers and prying her legs open, pleasuring her until she cums.

"On shaving," she reminds him, finally getting his belt unbuckled and tossing it onto the floor. When it comes to shaving, both of them run a tight ship. Soarynn has always preferred to be as hairless as possible but she was pleasantly surprised when she found that Coriolanus felt the same way about himself. There was just something about a man who wasn't afraid to shave.

Her hand slips under the waistband of his pants and her fingers graze over the growing boner straining in his boxers, feeling his shudder against his touch, "You know," she says, "it's a shame that we're so traditional, waiting for marriage and all that." She palms him with her hand and he gasps into the kiss, "Yes," he grits out, "it's a real shame."

Soarynn would be lying if she said that she hadn't thought about it before, thought about Coriolanus fully taking her and making her his. But all good things come to those who wait. And Soarynn can be very patient.

꧁ ꧂

It amazes Soarynn how two people can go from being super sexual to tenderly intimate within a matter of minutes.

With the warm shower water running over her skin, she feels perfectly content with his large hands on her hips, his lips gently kissing up and down her neck while they shower off their sexual encounter from minutes before. She lets out a content sigh when his hand lays flat against her stomach and imagines what it would be like to carry a child for him, to have a baby bump and feel their child kicking against his hand.

"What're you thinking about?"

Soarynn opens her eyes, remembering where she is and who she's with, a man who is not yet her husband. "The future," she says, not entirely a lie. She's been thinking about the future a lot lately, what it holds for her, for the family that might be hers someday.

Coriolanus kisses the back of her shoulder before gently spinning her around so that the warm water runs down her back now, "The future hmm? What about the future?" Her breath catches in her throat, it makes her nervous to speak it out loud because then it might not come true.

"I just feel as though something wonderful might happen," she says, lifting her feet off the ground when he wraps his arms around her waist, spinning them around because he knows how much she loves it. His eyes twinkle with amusement and adoration, "Would it be so bad if something wonderful did happen?"

Soarynn wonders if Coriolanus can feel how fast her heart is beating from his question. They're literally chest to chest tight now, nothing between them, "No," she answers softly, "I'd like it very much for something wonderful to happen to us."

He smiles at her use of the word 'us' something she's been doing more often whether she realizes it or not. It's hard not to when she already sees them as an inseparable pair, especially with the children being so on board with their relationship.

"Me too."

She bites her bottom lip, debating on whether or not she should utter those three words that she's never said before in this context.

But after today, after their honesty and her visit to the Cemetery, she feels brave enough to say it.

"I love you."

Coriolanus goes through a range of emotions in about five seconds. From surprise to bewilderment to realization and back to adoration all within the blink of an eye. She wonders if she said it too soon, if she should quickly add that she was joking, just testing the waters.

One of his hands comes up to gently hold her face, holding her as if she's made of priceless glass, so fragile and easy to break. She used to be like that, but not anymore. She's stronger now, better, more determined.

"I love you too."

Soarynn breaks into the biggest smile she's ever worn. She's never felt this way about someone before and she doesn't think Coriolanus has either. They're still learning, still growing as people, as individuals. But she's happy to grow with him, safely by his side, loved and cherished.

Soarynn knows a lot of things but she knows one thing for absolute certain.

She's going to marry this man.

| Part 11. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

꧁|taglist:

@lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @villiansarehottest @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead

|꧂

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 17

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Poultryman leaves quickly but you can't help but keep feeling suspicious. Nothing concrete and his explanation does make sense but you can't help but feel that It was weird for him to just be there like that...

He said he heard of it but ... How did he do so quickly? And why was he just standing there...menacingly?

You don't get the time to think about it further and quickly forget about it as Cub messages you, the hero association wants to talk to you for some reason and that means something is wrong...

...You are a bit worried.

...

You uh... don't really know what to do, your fight and flight is going off in a way only a council of business people can make it go off.

The council is staring at you, you thought they wanted to tell you something not look at you with... judgement in their eyes for like ten minutes straight.

You try to break the tension by initiating the conversation yourself.

"H-hello?"

...

"You wanted to speak with me?"

They are still silent? Did you say something wrong? You literally just said hi-

"Indeed, a decision has been talen that we believe you should be informed of."

Ok, not silent anymore, that's good... Wait decision? They aren't demoting you or something, right?

"Did something happen?"

They look to eachother...ok...even more worrying. It's fine everything is fine, you are totally calm and chill and not anxious at all.

"No, but something will."

"O-ok?"

Points for being ominous for no reason.

"Hotguy, you cannot continue to work alone. The stakes are growing, it is becoming too dangerous.."

"Oh!"

Oh! Are they making a hero team? You always wanted one of those-

"We are not going to waste heroes on a team"

And just like that your hopes are dashed and crushed. Why are you still here...just to suffer?

"But then-"

"Hotguy, how would you feel about a sidekick?"

A... Sidekick? You don't know how to feel, superheroes are supposed to have them though so It must be a good idea!...Wait.

"W-who's going to be my sidekick? You said you weren't going to waste heroes."

"That has not yet bern decided, we plan to start an hiring process of sorts soon.""

Hiring? What's this? An office job?"

"Do not question us, Hotguy. It is thanks to us you are even here to begin with"

"Right! I am sorry."

"... This is where you come in"

"Huh?"

"A sidekick should not only be capable but should also work well with the hero, you'll have to be the final judge of character "

"Oh that makes sense... So I'll interview the candidates?"

"Not directly, we cannot risk that, you'll just have to prepare some questions for them to answer"

"Oh... Alright! I'll do it"

*Mumbo's pov*

You are in your apartment, Grian is off... somewhere. You have stopped questioning him around the time you walked on him peeling grapes ... You just hope he doesn't randomly die or something, that would be quite unfortunate.

You turn on the tv, not something you do often but it's a good way to pass the time when you aren't working on something which is thinking about it...very rarely. Surely today has been uneventful.

The mayor was kidnapping by his own office and Hotguy is randomly hiring a sidekick.

What in the world has happened today??

*Grian's pov*

So Hotguy is searching for a sidekick, what interesting timing.

Well, you cannot waste this opportunity to have fun, can you.

You prepare an outfit, you even have a perfect name for this.

Cuteguy.

...

You might have too many personas now... nah.

End of Chapter 4

[nekrosmos]

questions about nikolai and price (originally from an ask meme about original characters but i wanna hear your thoughts):

what do they want to hear?

what do they need to hear?

what do they dread to hear?

Thank you for the ask !! I honestly struggled with the answers, I'm not the best at deep character introspection so this really had me scratching my head. I hope what I came up with makes sense !

What do they want to hear?

Nikolai: "I trust you."

Nik is intimidating, isn't he ? Intelligent, strong, well-connected Nikolai. People know that. It usually takes only a half a second glance to know that you do not want to be on this man's bad side. He's used to it, really. But how many times as he entered a room only to see people shift uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of his presence? He makes people uneasy, whether he wants it or not. It's fine when he's on an op and needs to be menacing, but it gets old quickly when he just wants to relax, sometimes.

He's trustworthy, despite his shady dealings, he's loyal. Thankfully, a handful of people know that.

Price: "You made a difference"

Yes, his hands got bloody, but it was all worth it in the end, right? He saved people by pulling the trigger when it needed to be done. No hesitation, it's what the world needs. So what if he can't sleep at night and his file is covered in black ? He made a difference, the rest, he can live with.

What do they need to hear?

Nikolai: "You need to think of yourself, too."

Nikolai puts others first, this has always been true. He likes to help out, likes to feel useful, ready to answer a call. Loyal to a fault, devoted to his friends. But when was the last time Nik put his needs as a top priority ? Has he ever done that ? He has no trouble flying to the other of the planet at a moment's notice if someone asks him to. How many nights of sleep has he missed because someone needed a hand? How much time has he spent fixing up his helo because it got banged up the last time a friend needed transport in hostile territory ? It's always others first, never himself, and he needs to be reminded of that.

Price: "You matter."

It's easy to forget that you're someone when you've been used as a weapon since you were 16. You forget that you have a purpose outside of your work, too. You forget you're a human first, with needs and wants and desires. You are Captain John Price, but you are also just John Price, and he matters too.

When he comes home for a break, what does he see outside of blank walls and a barely lived in house he never really took the time to make his ? It's temporary, he thinks, he doesn't really live here.

Maybe John needs to be reminded that he exists outside of his work.

What do they dread to hear?

Nikolai: "You don't belong here."

From either side. I think Nik feels strongly about his relationship with his home country, how he's been working against it and how his actions might be perceived by his countrymen. I think he's scared of losing this part of himself, and being rejected, even though all he's done was in the name of his country.

And then on the other side, Nik knows he stands out, knows people see him as a "could have so easily been the enemy" kind of guy. People like him, sure, but how many, aside from Kate, John and Gaz actually trust him ? Everyone else sees him as useful, but ultimately, they still look at him with a suspicious eye.

Where is home for Nikolai, really ?

Price: "You failed them"

Losing people, he's used to it. It never gets easier though, does it? Men and women under his command, people he's known for years, people who trusted him, friends. But, there is something entirely different between losing someone when you did everything you could have done and it was the way it was supposed to go, and losing someone because of your mistake. He failed them, he knows that, and it haunts him.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

As the anonymous author of the famed (75 notes) What I Think Would Fix the Fates Royals asks, I now present to you:

Fates Royals Ranked by How Much Gender They Have (and also this time I include Azura)*:

Elise: You would think she's just a girl but she hides at least 15 genders under her bed alongside her contraband sweets. Nobody knows where she's getting all these..it's alarming

Xander: Xander has one solid gender. No one is quite sure what it is but he's definitely got a total of one. As you can see from his being so high on the list with only one gender, this family isn't very high on them.

Hinoka: She has like 89.5% of a gender and that gender is lesbian.

Ryoma: His gender is part Hoshidan, part his beautiful, illustrious hair when it's not in that weird headpiece. That is to say, one part is very deeply instilled in his personality, the rest is left to the imagination, you never see it but you know it exists. His gender would be sort of enigmatic if it wasn't SO in your face…known but unknowable, y'known?

Camilla: Has about 75% of a gender that can very loosely be described as being a woman. It's close enough that she doesn't bother explaining it beyond that but like there's 25% something else that she doesn't really touch.

Sakura: Whatever gender she has she does not think she's doing it very well. She's actually doing the best out of anyone because she's sweetiepie :)

Takumi: Takumi has got like half a gender. He had to move the rest of it out to make room for his crushing inferiority complex. Actually no, I think his gender IS having an inferiority complex.

Leo: Taking note of Takumi having only half of gender, decided he must become even less gender. This failed, he has the same thing going on now just in the opposite direction. Put them together and you now have every form of gender angst imaginable.

Corrin: No matter which Corrin you select at the start of Fates they both have just the vaguest hint of gender, dedicated to whatever meshes best with their siblings at the moment. Their gender is loving their family and having fun and also the inexplicable horror of existing in a nonhuman body and the alienation they feel because of it. Also autism.

Azura: They have so little gender that I consistently forget that they're supposed to be canonically a woman. You're telling me that if you could just sit by bodies of water and sing a little song and do cool shit all day you'd care about gender?? Yeah right.

*Ranking is NOT on gender they are, as they are all gender in some way. It’s about how much gender is in their gender. Also none of this is that serious because I could literally reverse the list and still make a case because they're my sillies :)

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