#he may or may not have burnt his own house down

[hidden-poet]

S. lands on top; 6

summary: Coriolanus returns home to the Capital with two women from district 12 plaguing his mind. One a (presumed) dead mystery but another well within his reach.

warnings: unco, dark!Coriolanus, possessive!Corirlanus, Dark themes, mentions of death, she/her pronouns, kidnapping, violence, All of the warnings, dead dove do not eat.

Word count: 7,835

chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Coriolanus left Mabel without breakfast the next morning. 

He was so angry, he could kill her. But what good would his anger do? 

It would break his favorite toy and leave him nothing for it.

Instead he needed to show Mable that her actions amounted to nothing. Best she think she has no effect whatsoever. That all her kicking and screaming did nothing but wear her out. 

He tried his best to show this to Dr Gaul too. When he arrived for work, he came with his normal causal presence. 

While Coriolanus wanted to forget the night, Dr Gaul wanted to rub his nose in it. 

She doesn’t look at him as she passes him in the boardroom. Her failed student wasn’t worth looking at. Wasn’t even worth talking to. 

The beautiful bird perched on her shoulder did her talking for her.

 It had beautiful blue feathers that looked soft to pet. It’s tail stuck out in show, and it’s beautiful green eyes darted around the room. 

The bird looked panicked but sat obediently on her shoulder, despite having the ability to fly away. 

“I hope you are all happy with the Reaping ceremony yesterday for it may be your last”, she taunted, sitting down in her chair. 

The bird is taken from her shoulder and kept in her hand to stroke. Ths bird gained no joy from the motion, still sitting there with a panicked expression and shaking feathers. 

“Who can tell me what was wrong with it?”, she questions. Her eyes fall on Coriolanus who looks down at his blank paper, defeated. 

He hoped someone would speak up. Say something that she was sure to disagree with, but at least he would be able to hide under it. 

No one spoke. Forcing Coriolanus to engage in the conversation he didn’t want to have. Of course Dr Gaul would make it a public whipping. 

“We lost control”, he muttered. 

“Hm, how?”, Dr Gaul asks as her finger runs down her bird's beak to show off it’s docility. 

“We allowed them to speak freely”, he pushed out in a big breath. 

Images of Reaping interview that consisted of crying children and awkward presenters, collided in his head with Mabel's own mistakes. 

“Sparks are a dangerous thing, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul provokes, “We like to think we can contain them but find too late that they have burnt our house down”. 

“None of those children have enough spark to incite a rebellion” one of his co-workers interrupts. 

Dr Gaul turns to him with a sly smile. 

‘Of course not, you idiot’, Coriolanus thought, ‘but his Mable did.’ 

“We only need one of the children to be well liked enough that someone with enough spark does incite a rebellion”, Dr Gaul dismisses with a hard tone. 

“Control is what we need” Coriolanus says louder for the group to hear, “Dr Gaul if you give us another chance, we-I can get them to perform how we want them to”.

Dr Gaul eyes her bird. It struggled in her tight grip but never pecked at her for release. 

“You can’t bargain with a person who doesn’t know they are beat yet. Instead of interviewing them at the Reaping, we allow them a couple of days for their reality to settle in. Then we give them some media training, and we host a round of interviews for the Capitol to get to know them. Or at least the version we want them to be known as”. 

Dr Gaul's condescending smile returns, letting him know he was wrong.

“You think they need time?”, she mocks in a low voice. 

“I think they need a reason to perform. The motivation of death can also be a reason for non-conformance. We’ve been asking what have they got to lose, when we should have been asking what have they got to gain?”. 

“And what do they have to gain?” 

“Maybe we could offer-” a colleague tried to contribute but was cut off my Dr Gaul. 

“Those who don’t know of what they speak, shouldn’t speak”, she snaped. 

He quieted immediately and fell back into his chair. Once more the attention was back on Coriolanus. 

‘’Mercy’’, he breaths. It takes him a second but he musters the courage to look Dr Gaul in the eye. 

Her stare unnerves him, but he forces himself to look anyway. 

 The room is quiet while it waits for Dr Gaul’s reaction. 

“Hm, interesting concept, Mr Snow.” she finally says, “Did someone write that down?’’.

“Mercy” she repeats more to herself. The bird is let go but remains on top of the table.

Her eyes roll around the room, looking at all the Gamemakers who shudder in their seats.

Coriolanus couldn’t help to think of Lucy-Grey despite how much he tried to fight against it. 

She was a performer. Right to the end. 

“I don’t understand how training them like a dog is going to make the games more entertaining”.

The voice was soft and gentle, coming from a female colleague who often came up with the most grotesque ideas.

Coriolanus scoffs at her. He hated people who couldn’t see the bigger picture. 

The Games only played a small part in keeping the districts under the Capitol boot. Yet she wanted to focus all of their energy on it. 

“It’s not about the Games. It’s about engagement” Coriolanus responded, “Who cares about a District as they come?”.

He felt a sharp twist in his stomach as he said it. Beautiful, strong Mabel caught his eye, and had never left his mind since. 

“They are animals,” he states. Mabel’s actions don’t speak against it. Like a wounded animal in a cage, she lashes and bites. 

“We need to turn them into something more marketable. Who cares when a roach is squashed? We need people to care. To want to look after them and ensure their survival”. 

Coriolanus looks around the room to see his Colleagues all awaiting Dr Gauls input. He makes a point not to look at her like the rest do.  

“By doing this, won’t it cause a up-rising within the Capitol?”, another Gamemaker who could not see beyond the Games speaks up. 

Coriolanys groans, frustrated that he is lumped together with the same Gamemakers. If he had full control of the Games, he could make them the biggest event of the year. Not some side show holiday that people can take or leave. 

But Dr Gaul won’t give it to him, unless he can show he is in control of Mabel. 

“It’s not a beauty pageant, it's a dog fight”, Dr Gaul reasons. 

The man who asked the question slumped in his chair, muttering agreements that he did not believe.  

It was obvious he was trying to stump Coriolanus. But the man had no idea the conversation was just between Dr Gaul and Coriolanus. The group was merely a sounding board between the two.

“The only way we are going to get those children to perform the way we want is through mercy. Act like we tell you and we’ll relent”. Coriolanus finishes. 

Dr Gaul suddenly stands up, gaining the attention from the room once more. She moves to the boardroom computer and pulls up a list of the tributes. 

Small photos of the twelve that preceded their name and district were casted up on the wall behind Dr Gaul. 

Coriolanus eyes the boy from 12. He still had a baby face. Full, round cheeks, and soft brown hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes were big and brown, and thin lips pressed together as if he was about to cry. 

Coriolanus imagined the interactions that Mabel had with the boy. Did she ever kiss him? Ever hug him? Did she treat the boy like her own, or keep a friendly distance?

How will she react when he most certainly dies?

“Theory will only get you so far” Dr Gaul contends, “we must put it in practice. Each of you will be assigned a tribute to play up”.

Coriolanus' eyes shut, and an  annoyed smile tenses at his lips. He could see where this was going. 

“We have mentors. Let them do it”, he speaks out. Trying to claw his way out of the hole Dr Gaul is digging. 

“Why, Mr Snow. Every great scientist conducts their own experiments. What would the mentors know of a great show?”, her voice carried a condescending tone. 

There was nothing Coriolanus could stop her from giving him the 12 boy, and nothing he could do to stop her taking his 12 girl. 

It was only her sick idea of training Coriolanus for presidency that allowed him to keep Mabel after last night. 

He had failed Dr Gaul last night, and now she was throwing an extra obstacle in his way of training Mabel. 

Dr Gaul would find some way of ensuring that Mabel knew of Coriolanus media training the boy. Poke the fire before Coriolanus could get it to a non-threatening level. 

Coriolanus' lips tug into a smug smile. One day he would kill Dr Gaul. 

“Shall we dish out tributes randomly?” he bites. 

Dr Gaul waves her finger at Coriolanus. It was the only time that anyone had seen her display any other sort of emotion despite boredom. 

Her amusement was a stark contrast no matter how small it played across her features. 

Her lips sealed together to hold in her smile, her body slightly curled in as if she was about to erupt in whole body laughter.

With a bite of her tongue, she straightens and the lips that held in laughter, now parted to release her normal board tone.  

“I have an idea of who I would like with whom”, she snarky replies. 

There were 23 gamemakers, and only 12 tributes, so Dr Gaul picked a mixture of people she liked and people she despised. 

They were paired to tributes according to their social status to Dr Gaul. The most unmarketable tribute was paired with the Gamemaker who tried to show up Coriolanus just moments before. 

The tribute, a girl just shy of  eighteen from district 5, had tried to volunteer her young sister. Stating that she had promised to take her place just moments before. 

‘Make her a martyr for rebellion’, Coriolanus thought. 

Dr Gaul finally gets to district 12 and to no one's surprise, pairs the boy with Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus brings his fist up to his lips, trying different angles in his head that he could pawn to Mabel to make her believe he was trying to help the boy. 

She was too smart, and too distrustful. She wouldn’t believe anything he would say. She would just have to swallow the news without any sugar coating. 

“We’ll hold a national interview next week”, Dr Gaul announces, “You have until then to try this mercy tactic to get them to perform”. 

With her dismissal, the Gamemakers move to leave the room in one big herd. 

Coriolanus tries eagerly to follow them. The last thing he wanted was to talk openly about Mabel's failure with Dr Gaul. 

“Not you, Mr Snow”, he felt his heart sink as she called out for him in front of the others. 

A few turn to stare at him as he remains frozen in his spot. He shakes off his nerves as the last person closes the door behind them. 

Returning to his seat, he sits with confidence he did not have and looks boldly at Dr Gaul.

She sits down at the head of the table, next to him and picks up her bird once more, stroking the back of its neck.

“You want to talk about a performance?” she remarks, clearly talking about Mabel. 

“Last night-” he begins but is cut off by Dr Gaul who hadn’t finished talking. 

“She’s everything I hoped she was going to be”, her eyes remain on her bird as she talks and Coriolanus is grateful she can’t see him squirm in his seat. 

“Beautiful thing. Smart, stubborn, stupidly unafraid. A great feat for you indeed. I have never seen anything quite like her before”. 

Her eyes flick to Coriolanus who stills in his seat. 

“She’s an up-rising in herself. Are you sure you can handle that?”. 

“Mabel is a spoiled child who got away with acting how she likes because of her beauty. She is only a up-rising because no one has ever told her no. Last night, I assure you, she was told no”. 

Dr Gaul once more smiles. But her eyes remain on her bird. 

“Do you practice what you preach? Have you shown her mercy?”

Coriolanus thinks back to the train. He had put his own coat over her to keep her warm while she slept on his knee. She didn’t know it of course, so he supposed it didn’t count.

He gives her chocolate as rewards. Although, since the book incident there has been no sweets in the penthouse. 

He would hardly say he has been unkind to her. Strict maybe. 

Mercy, however, was a high bar to reach. 

“She’s clothed, fed, housed”, Coriolanus lists.

“Clothed sometimes”, she quips, “Fed and housed? Lab rats are fed and housed. That’s not mercy, that’s upkeep”. 

The bird squawks and Dr Gauls flick its head to shut it up.

“Pretty isn’t she?” Dr Gaul asks, placing the bird into Coirolanus' hold. 

He holds it gently, cupping the small clump of soft feathers between his hands. 

Dr Gaul continues to stroke its head with her long, pointed finger. 

“Mercy keeps her from flying. It knows I can, and have done, unmerciful things to it. It knows that if it tries to fly I will do unmerciful things again, but it trusts that if it does what I want, me, in my mercy, won’t harm it just because I can”.

Dr Gaul pulls her finger away, giving her full attention to Coriolanus. 

“If I hurt it no matter what it did, why would it do what I want at all?”. 

Her voice suddenly turns hard and low. Her eyes train on the blue bird as she speaks.

“You know it took me months to catch this bird. Stubborn, fast little thing. For the longest time it was my favorite pet I had ever owned”. 

Her hands reach out and Coriolanus shuffles his hands lower so Dr Gaul could rest her fingers on its back while her thumbs scratches the bird's neck.

“Then I met Mabel”, with the pressure of her thumbs on the birds neck, she snaps the bone. 

Coriolanus should have released the dead bird but felt too shocked to let go of its limp body. 

“It pales in comparison”, Dr Gaul rises from her seat and Coriolanus throws the dead bird on the table. 

“I do hope our little one on one enlightened you, Mr Snow. Mabel is too rare for you to fail”. 

Coriolanus remains sat at the table, staring at the once beautiful bird as Dr Gaul moves on with her day. 

Once the initial shock wears off, he rises from his seat and makes his way to his office with an unbothered demeanor. 

His head reeled, however. It was clear Dr Gaul wanted to get her hands on Mabel. 

 She wanted Coriolanus to fail so she could swoop in. But Coriolanus never failed at anything. 

Dr Gaul couldn’t have Mabel. She belongs firmly, and utterly to Coriolanus Snow. 

He would get Mabel to realise that sooner, or later.

He headed over to the training center after work. 

He wanted to get a start with the young boy so he would be ready for the interview. 

Coriolanus would play on the heartstrings of the Capitol people. Get them to pour money on the soon to be dead child to make his existence less miserable until he was killed off. 

His product came in a cute package, all Coriolanus had to do was feed the young boy a script and the Capitol people would eat out the palm of his hand.

He requested a room alone with the child. They were given the tv room which was large and filled with furniture. 

The young boy was kept in chains despite his small frame. 

He looked afraid as he entered the room to see the tall and well dressed man that Coriolanus was. 

The Peacekeeper pushed him through the door. Coriolanus asks the peacekeeper to leave him and his tribute in peace. 

“Hello, James” Coriolanus greets the child as the door is shut.

It didn’t work to ease the boy who kept a long distance and a frightened look. 

“I am Coriolanus Snow, and I  will be helping you prepare for your interview next week”. 

“Interview?’ the young boy asks, “I don’t want to”. 

He looked like he was going to cry. His voice broke, and he held his head up to keep back the tears. 

“It’ll help you in the Games. People will send you gifts. If you do well enough, I might even be able to get you sweets and chocolate to enjoy”. 

A little mercy while he waits to be slaughtered. 

The little boy shakes his head. The tears now spill from his eyes fast and fat down his face.

Coriolanus reaches for a handkerchief he always keeps and takes a step forward to give it to the boy. 

James jumps back as Coriolanus approaches. 

“We are not strangers, you and I”, Coriolanus said. 

The boy looks at him in wonder. Not knowing what to expect next. 

“I’ve heard all about you from Mabel. Do you remember Mabel, your neighbor?” he asks softly. 

The young boy nods his head, bringing his chained hands to rub the tears from his eyes. 

“She’s asked me to help you”, it wasn’t entirely a lie, “and you trust Mabel don’t you?”. 

The little boy nods again. Coriolanus moves forward to take the young boys chin and wipe his face with the handkerchief. 

“Her and I are friends. Which makes me and you friends”, he places the handkerchief back in his breast pocket as he talks in a soft and slow voice, “She’s asked me to help you get as much chocolate as i can. And for me to do that, you need to listen to every word I say, and do exactly as I command, Okay?”. 

“Will Mabel-” Coriolanus knew the boy’s question would end asking to see Mabel which he wouldn’t allow happen, so he spoke quickly over him. 

‘Mabel will be watching the interview. So we must make her proud”. 

The boy settles under the name of a friend, and Coriolanus sits him on the couch to go over the interview. 

Coriolanus critiqued everything. From the boy's tone of voice, to how he sat. The boy was receptive. Quickly adjusting to how Coriolanus wanted him to be. That being as small and cute as possible. 

Coriolanus soon had enough and with a promise that he would bring chocolate when he visited again, so the boy would know what he was performing for, he left to return to Mabel. 

When he returned home the sound of music irritated him. 

He followed it to a spare room down the hall. It was mostly a junk room. He remembered he had stored an old music player there just in case he ever needed it for company. 

Careful to make no noise, he pushes the door slightly ajar so he could peek through. 

Mabel was dancing like she did back in 12. Spinning round and round. Swaying her dress around her as her bare feet thud against the floorboards beneath her. 

Despite her circumstances, she moved her body to music she did not like. 

She was trying to fit one of lucy-greys old songs to the tune but was making a mess of it with her timing and out of breath voice. 

‘Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, clementine. You are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorry, clementine” she sings out of tune.

Coriolanus remembered the song. Remembered watching Lucy-Grey dressed up in the nicest rags she had, and too much make-up to sing it up on stage. The song sounded much nicer coming from her lips, but Mabel looked much better signing it. 

She spins away, planting her back to the door as she dances with someone not there. Coriolanus takes the distraction to push through the door and make his way to the music player. 

He picks the box up and smashes it against the floor. The music makes an awful static noise as it is killed. 

Mabel spins back to him. She doesn’t look shocked or startled. Instead a playful and amused expression still dances across her face. 

“You could have changed the song” she remarks. 

From the top of her gown he could see the harsh, red lines from the cane. She must have been in pain but yet insisted on dancing. 

“Dr Gaul asked about you today” he says in a calm manner. 

“Good for her”. Mabel keeps her distance across the room like the small boy did. 

“Not good for you. You realize I can’t protect you from her”, he admits, “You think I am bad, you have no idea what Dr Gaul is”. 

“Scared of her Coryo?” Mabel taunts, “I am not. I’ll protect you”. 

“You should be”, Coriolanus argues.

‘‘She can’t do nothing to me that hasn’t already been done”, Mabel spat. 

“She can do things to you that you couldn’t even imagine”. 

“Let her. What have I got to lose?”. Mabel storms past him out the door, heading back down the hall. 

There it is. 

She had nothing to lose, everything was already taken from her. Her family, friends, passions, bodily autonomy. 

Coriolanus follows her to the living room. 

“You should know I’ve ordered Peacekeepers to retrieve your sister from district 12”. 

Mabel spins so fast her hair sweeps across her face.

Finally her annoying smug look is replaced with pure dread. 

Coriolanus sighs deeply, and shrugs his shoulders.

“What have you got to lose Mabel? Nothing. What do you have to gain? Your sister's life”.

“You’re lying” she states in a tone almost wishing. 

Coriolanus shakes his head. “I’ve figured you out Mabel. You’re a glutton for punishment. Dare I say you enjoy it. The more I push you, the harder you push back. But that boy at the reaping…You wouldn’t have begged for your own life but you begged for his”.

Mabel for the first time is silent as the information rushes over her. Coriolanus feels a stinging sensation of power run through him. 

“When she arrives, she’ll be placed in an apartment in the building complex for easy access, and every time you step out of line, she’ll suffer. Every time you’re good, she’ll eat”. 

He steps closer to her so that they were almost touching. He towers over her, his neck craning so he can look her in the eyes as he speaks. 

“I am doing this to protect you. Dr Gaul would ruin you” he promises. 

Mabel spits in his face. He feels the warm, wet saliva trickle down. 

His eyes close in anger but he begins to laugh. 

She was beat. She knew it too. 

Instead of a slap, her hand reaches up to wipe the spit away. 

“I am sorry” she said, ‘I didn’t mean that”. 

Coriolanus opens his eyes to find Mabel looking rightfully worried. 

“Please just let her go. I’ll be good”, she promises, “You’ve made your point”. 

Coriolanus reaches up to take her face in his hands, yanking her up on her tippy toes so he didn’t have to look so far down. 

“You’re so beautiful Mabel”, his thumbs brush against her cheekbones, before moving up to her eyes. 

She closes them so he can brush his thumbs against her long eyelashes. She doesn’t open them as he runs them over her eyebrows and down across her lips.

“What a prize you’ll be once your fire is stowed. She called you a rebellion in itself today, and she was right. Who wouldn’t fight for you?”. 

“My sister-” she begins but stops herself knowing nothing she could say would sway his mind. 

Her eyes remain closed. Not daring to look. It was the first time Coriolanus felt like he had control over Mabel. 

How he wished Dr Gaul could see him. He wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t have his Mabel.

“Your sister” Coriolanus repeats, “Do you think you could be good for her?”. 

Mabel nods in his hands, eyes still closed. 

With his hold on her, he brings her head forward to whisper in her ear. 

“Why don’t you put that saliva to good use?”. 

He feels the weight of her drop in his hands as she lowers herself to her knees in front of him. 

Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panam, and king of mercy. 

It was Saturday. A supposed day off for Coriolanus but his mind raced with potential questions that may be asked of James. 

He could go later to advise the boy and ensure he had a suitable answer for each question, but for now he forced himself to enjoy laying in bed. 

It was late, Coriolanus had never remained in bed, unless he was sick, past seven. 

Now the clock almost hits ten and he makes no move to rise. 

Mabel lay’s on his chest, covered in nothing but a thin sheet.

Coriolanus had awoken well before seven at which point he had woken Mabel with the weight of his body curled around her, and kisses that spoke of his need. 

Her mind too, seemed to race as she lay there. 

“What color hair does my sister have?”, she asks. 

“What?” Coriolanus asks as Mabel rises from his hold, bringing the thin sheet with her. 

“It’s occurred to me that I have taken you at nothing but your word. You are a liar and a thief. How do I know you really have my sister?”.

Coriolanus’s wonderful morning was now ruined. Mabel had been so perfect the past few days and now the spell had been broken.

He rises from the bed, going over to his wardrobe to get dressed as he speaks. 

“Do you want to see her?” He offers. 

“Yes”, Mabel commands. 

Dropping the sheet, she hurriedly dresses in the same green dress she always wears. 

Coriolanus takes his time, flipping through his large wardrobe to find a shirt. 

Mabel pushes past him, grabbing the first shirt she sees and shoving it at Coriolanus. 

He backhands her for it and she tumbles to the ground in a heap. 

“I was going to say we could bring her breakfast but it seems neither of you will be eating this morning”, he taunts. 

This time she waits on the floor for him to choose a shirt. He lays it on the bed before going back to pick pants and shoes. 

When he begins to dress into his pants, Mabel rises from the floor and takes the hem of his pants into her hands. 

He lets her do so, dropping his hands to his side and watching her under a curious gaze. 

She helps him dress into his shirt and shoes. She never once looks at him and he never once looks away. 

He knew that she was trying to dress him as fast as she could so she could see her sister. But there's a domestication to it that Coriolanus loved. 

He leaves the room wordlessly and she follows him out of the apartment and into the elevator. He only stops to grab his coat and keys. Mabel knew it would only be a quick visit before he left for the day. 

Level 3, she commits to memory. 

Coriolanus seemed too relaxed to be showing her. He seemed almost bored to be showing her. 

Mabel knew that Coriolanus had her sister. She didn’t know that he would be so quick to show it. She had prepared herself for a series of nagging before he relented and either showed her where her sister was kept or brought her sister up to her. 

Knowing where her sister was kept was the first step in forming a plan to get her out. Coriolanus gave it up too easy. 

He was a smart man but too egotistical. 

A week of playing docile and he had forgotten the threat Mabel posed. 

The third level opened to a long hall but only one door. She followed Coriolanus to it where he dug through his pocket for his keys. 

Finding the right one he held it out for Mabel to take. She takes careful note of which key it was and inserts it in the lock. 

“After you” he states. 

Mabel felt as if she could throw up as she twisted the key in the lock. 

The apartment is empty and for a second she thinks Coriolanus had played a terrible joke on her. 

He pushes her into the apartment and the door locks behind them. 

“Livy!” Mabel called for her sister, “Livy!”. 

A shuffling noise is held and a small body dashes out from a cupboard. 

Mabel drops to her knees to retrieve her sister who shoots into her arms. 

Her name could be heard from her sister's small voice between large sobs. 

“It’s okay” Mabel promises, “Oh god’. 

Livy was barely 6 and could easily be picked up by Mabel who distanced her and her sister from Coriolanus. 

“I’ve never lied to you, Mabel,” Coriolanus stated.

Mabel nods, “No, you haven’t”. 

“So let’s go”, he nods back to the door. 

Mabel walks to the door with her sister in her arms but is stopped by Coriolanus. 

“I can’t leave her”, Mabel begs.

“Find a way”, he retorts. 

Mabel knew it was for the best. She could figure a way to get her sister out. The Penthouse was too secure.

Coriolanus was too preoccupied with keeping Mabel there. 

Escape was impossible there but a level unguarded and only one lock to get through? Mabel could get through that. 

She places her sister down despite her screaming. A plan was already forming in her head. 

“I’ll be back” she promises. She wipes the tears away from her sisters eyes and places a kiss on her head. 

“You’re safe and I’ll be back”, she reiterated. 

Livly grabs hold of Mabel's leg, begging her to stay and take her home. 

Mabel tries words, bending down and rubbing her sisters back as she spoke. 

Coriolanus, tired of the scene, used force to separate the two. 

Mabel tries to fight off his hold from her sister, to pull her close once more but Coriolanus tore her from Mabel’s grip and took the squirming girl over to the couch where she was thrown on the soft cushions. 

Mabel followed close behind so as soon as his hands were free of Livy, he took hold of Mabel’s arm and pushed her back out the door. 

The little girls cries could be heard from behind the door. It was an unbearable minute that it took for Coriolanus to remove the key from the lock and retreat back to the elevator. 

The big metal door shut out the sound completely, but brought Mabel back to the front entrance of her prison. 

The security measures were more complex and Mabel stood stunned while Coriolanus went through them all. 

The door finally opened and Mabel was flung inside. 

Despite her sadness and anger, Mabel did not cry as she was tossed to the hard floor. 

She rolls on her back and looks up to the high ceiling forming a plan in her head. 

—-------------------

Coriolanus spends the rest of the day with the boy. 

He had forgotten the chocolate promised. 

The boy took the news hard, but sensing that Coriolanus was already irritated he kept his disappointment to himself. 

They went over questions that Coriolanus formed. Even spent an hour just practicing the walk from the curtain to the stage. 

Everything was crucial to the performance. One mistake could cost Coriolanus having the most popular tribute. 

Coriolanus was nothing if not a perfectionist. 

The other Game makers visited their tributes at the training house. A Saturday couldn’t be wasted with friends and family. Not if Dr Gaul was involved. 

Still they broke for lunch at an expensive restaurant in the city. Coriolanus was glad for the distraction. 

They spoke of the impossible task of making the tributes ready for the interview.A few even spoke of their persona they were going to push. 

No one but Coriolanus wanted their tribute to seem weak. James would have no problem standing out. 

The news lightened Coriolanus who stopped by the shops on the way back to the training house to pick up the chocolate promised to the boy. 

When he did return home, the smell of burning filled his nose. 

He rushed to the kitchen where pots could be heard clanging together. 

Mabel was there, covered in flour and bending to take a burnt cake from the oven. 

“What are you doing?” he asks angrily. 

“Oh you’re home” Mabel says in a soft voice, “I am sorry. I didn’t hear the door open”. 

She places the cake next to several others. All of them were no good. Burnt, sagged, or an off color. 

With her hands free she walks over to Coriolanus wiping her hands on her dress and taking his coat from his shoulders. 

“I wanted to have something nice for you to eat when you got home, but I have never been a good cook. And that was with ingredients and kitchen stuff I knew”. 

“Don’t over-exert yourself. I have no need for you to cook” he says cautiously, watching her hang up his coat. 

“I know”, she states turning to look at him, “I just wanted to show you that I have changed. I’ve been thinking all day how foolish I’ve been”. 

She walks slowly over to him, ringing her hands together. 

“If I wasn’t so foolish, Livy wouldn’t be here”, she continued, stopping in front of Coriolanus. 

“I mean really I didn’t even mind that”, she doesn’t finish her sentence but looks up at Coriolanus. 

“I didn’t really mind you. But I fought against you anyway and it cost my parents both of their daughters”. 

“And you thought cake would solve that?” he mocks. 

“From where I am from, cake is how we show remorse” she wraps her arms around his stiff frame. 

He didn’t let her remain, pulling her hands away just after they landed. 

“I have work to do. Clean up your mess”, he demand. 

Coriolanus locks himself in his study. He could feel his resolve slipping as she buttered him up. It was important now, more than ever, that he remained in charge. But she had a funny way of turning his knees weak. 

He avoided her until dinner where they ate in silence. 

She tried to make conversation with him. Batting her eyelashes like he used to watch her do to other men. 

He slightly enjoyed watching her try to gain his attention. As a peacekeeper he used to beg for it to happen every night at the Hobb. 

His ignorance of her, only grew her attempts. She sat next to him and not across from him. Asked him question after question until she realized she wouldn’t get an answer.

“Coriolanus, I am trying” she finally said. 

He ignored her still, taking a piece of bread from the table. 

“Hey” she complained. Her hand reached out to touch his chest and he dropped the piece of bread to grab her wrist. 

Not touch. One thing he couldn’t ignore was her touching him. 

It felt like fire every time. He longed for it, he couldn’t ignore it. 

He shoves her hand away, quickly rising from the chair and storming off. 

He took a shower alone. Something he hadn’t done for a while now. 

Of course, he was going to give in to Mabel and her new way. He would be crazy not to. 

But watching her pine for him as he had pined for her was satisfying. 

Once again the order of things was returning. 

When he returned to the bedroom he saw her laying on the bed in his nightwear. The oversized bed shirt and old boxes that slipped down her frame. 

She was doing her homework. She doesn’t look up at him or speak as he enters the room. 

He scoffs quietly, now she is sulking. 

He picks up the book he is currently reading and enters the bed without a word. 

They remain like that with Mabel doing her work and Coriolanus reading his book. 

He gets four chapters in before Mabel disturbs him by thrusting her paper over his book. 

“Do you want to check it?” she asks. Normally he would and her nightmare lesson would begin again until she got it. 

He knocks the paper out off the road with his book so he could return to his reading. 

“No,” he states. 

“Good. I am pretty sure it’s wrong” she jests. 

She throws the paper to the ground which was something Coriolanus would normally scold her for but he can’t ignore her if he is scolding her. 

He also can’t ignore her when she places her body across his legs. 

She lays on top of him. Her head reaches his stomach where she pushes up the fabric of his pajama shirt and places three small kisses on his stomach. 

His eyes shut briefly from the thrill of it. His stomach tied in knots under her. 

The book is moved to the left, it hangs loosely in his hand over the bed. 

Without the book blocking her, she grins at Coriolanus. Knowing how irresistible she was. 

His spare hand reaches down to cup the back of her head, looking down at her in disbelief. 

Her fingers loop around the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for permission. It’s given when he raises his hips to accommodate her and the book drops from his hand. 

Coriolanus sleeps soundly that night. 

Mable had given him a massage after riding him long and hard. 

She was surprised by how quickly he had fallen asleep. His hair splayed out across the pillow as he lay on his stomach, his hands under his pillow as Mabel digs her hands into the mussels of his shoulders. 

She snaps her fingers a few times in his ear to ensure he was asleep before sliding off him and dressing in his dressing gown. 

As slightly as she can she sneaks down the hallway to where he kept his keys by the front door. The door in front of her required more than a key to get in so he felt no threat leaving them there. 

She slides out the draw of the hallway cupboard to retrieve the key she hid earlier. It was the closest match she could find. 

It wouldn’t fool him if he looked but she would just have to make sure he never looked. 

The key to her sisters door is taken off and the decoy is returned in its place. 

She moves to the kitchen next, taking out the wet cake mixture from the fridge and sinking the key to the bottom. The cake was small; it would only take a few cuts to find it. 

Slowly and carefully to avoid making noise she places the cake in the oven and sits in front of it watching it bake. 

Coriolanus woke with the feeling of his hair being pushed back. 

His eyes flick open to see Mabel laying on her side next to him. A heavenly sight to see first thing. 

He had almost convinced himself it was all a dream last night. 

“Morning. The kitchen staff need to be let into the knife draw. He keeps pointing at it”, she says. 

He rolls over to check the clock. Quarter to 8. 

He shouldn’t have slept in. No matter how peaceful his sleep was. 

With a groan he rolls out of bed and Mabel jumps down next to him. 

“I told them to prepare the food downstairs,” He said, annoyed. 

He notices she was wearing his dressing gown. It incites a need to have it for himself. To feel her warmth against his body. 

He spins her by her shoulders so he could slide the dressing gown off and put it around himself. 

She makes no complaints as he does so. Running back to the wardrobe to get another to protect herself from the cold. 

“Put your slippers on. It's cold this morning” he demands but does not follow the same advice. 

Coriolanus had so many clothes and shoes it made it hard to find anything among it, but eventually she finds her slippers wedged between the cupboard wall and a shoe rack. 

She turns to find Coriolanus had left the room. She follows him to the kitchen where a frightened chef watches as Coriolanus unlocked the knife drawer. 

“Don’t let it happen again” he warns the Chef who nods his head in agreement. 

His eyes shoot out at Mabel as if she was a traitor but surely he must realize who the knife drawer was locked from. 

Coriolanus stayed in the kitchen until the Chef was done, and another servant washed, dried and returned the knife so the drawer could be locked once more. 

Mabel waves at her friend as the girl rushes past to plate up the food. 

No wave is returned, but Mabel smiles anyway. From the corner of her eye she could see Coriolanus glance at his keys with a curious expression. 

She dashes over taking hold of his arm and tugging him forward. 

It worked to distract him. The keys were placed down and he willingly followed Mabel to the table.

“You’re in a good mood this morning” he comments. 

She pushes him into the chair by his shoulders and climbs on top of him. 

“You’re in a bad mood this morning” she replied, “can’t say that’s ever happened to me before”. 

Her fingers card through his hair and he leans back into his chair.

“I bet it hasn’t” he remarks. 

The servants come to display the food on the table. Coriolanus takes his hands from her waist expecting her to get up but she remains. 

She does swing her legs out from either side of him so she was sat on one side. 

Thanking them as they place the food, Mabel reaches out for a bacon strip and eats half of it before offering it to Coriolanus. 

He denies being fed. Leaning forward himself to plate his own food. 

Did she think he was a fool? He thought to himself. Was she deluded enough to think Coriolanus would buy this change of heart act?

She played the part for the benefit of her sister, he understood that. 

Still felt somewhat rewarding to reap the benefit of his hard work, so he was hesitant to call her on it. 

She yawns as he reaches for his cup of coffee. 

“Did you not sleep well last night?” he asks her before taking a sip. 

Mabel thinks back to the cake with a sly smile. 

“Best night sleep I’ve had in a while actually”, she answers honestly. 

Mabel looked best when she had just woken. Coriolanus had always thought so. 

Her hair was wild and messy, her eyes were heavy still carrying sleep, and her lips were always so plump and red. She must bite them either as soon as she wakes up or during the night. 

She takes his cup from his hand, bringing it to her lips to have a taste. 

“Uh, I don’t know how you drink that”, she complains putting it back on the table.

“You’ll get used to it”, he says, “You seem to get used to things quite fast with proper motivation”. 

A tense smile pulls on Mabel's lips, and she averts her eyes to the table. 

“Has she eaten today?” Mabel asks. 

“She eats at seven every morning. Good food. Proper food. Not district slop”. 

Mabel turns her head back to him, bringing her lips to the point they were hovering over his. 

“Well, how can I thank you?”. Her words carried ill-intent. He would hear the disdain in her voice as she spat them from her mouth. 

“You can get off me so I can get ready for the day”. An almost perfect morning, ruined by acknowledgement of the large elephant in the room. 

As he walks back to the bedroom he wishes that he refrained from taking the jab at her. Who cared if she was acting the fool? At least she was acting like his fool. 

When he enters the room dressed for the day it seemed Mabel was back to her new self. 

She stood as he enters the room. 

“You’re leaving already?” she asks. 

“Yes” was his short reply. 

“Wait” she calls as he heads towards the door. 

He halts in his spot, watching her run into the crowded kitchen. 

It startles the servants as she shoots pass them

She takes the cake from the fridge, the parchment under it reading “level 3. Find her”. 

There was only hope that it would get to Mrs plinth and even more hope that she would go against her husband to follow through. 

Still she was Mabel’s only chance. Ma plinth was a good person. Still district- still human. 

She was sure to listen to a desperate plea. 

She takes the two plates and pass the servants who squashed themselves to stay out of her way. 

Coriolanus watches her bring the cakes out from the kitchen. 

“One for Ma” she raises the smallest cake tin, “and one for Dr Gaul”. 

“Cakes?” Coriolanus questions fixing his tie. 

“Apologies” Mabel reminds him, “just make sure you don’t mix the two. Ma has a district recipe that won’t be appreciated by Dr Gaul”. 

Coriolanus sighs he wanted to say no but the last 24 hours had been so nice. 

Ma was just below him and he would see Dr Gaul at work. Maybe the cake would serve as a pointer to his good work. 

So he takes the cakes from her hands. 

She points once more to the cakes,  “Ma. Dr Gaul” she reiterates. 

Coriolanus nods, going to leave her.

She catches his face between her hands to stop him, reaching up on her tippy toes to kiss him. 

He freezes. He wanted to kiss back but by the time he could gain control of himself again she was pulling back. 

She tabs his hands as she spoke to indicate as she was talking, “Ma. Dr Gaul”. 

“I understand” he assures. 

“Good”, she grins, “I’ll see you when you get home”. 

The thought made Coriolanus feel giddy. 

He leans down to kiss her once more. Half of him didn’t want to go to work but he was determined that Mabel would not stray him from his path. 

Mabel sees him to the door and waves him off 

“Please, please, please” she mutters under her breath. 

tag list;

@bruher

@hiatuswhore

@swimmjacket

@immyowndefender

@namelesslosers

@lovelymoonkiid

@queenofshinigamis

@acidaciruela

@briefwinnerpersonaturtle

@tian-monique

@someonefromwutheringheights

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon King Headcanons

You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!

I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance

[Main Story]

The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”

The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.

Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.

Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.

Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.

You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.

"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.

You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.

[timmydraker]

CW: use of R word

Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.

But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.

Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.

Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.

At least, not at first.

When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…

Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.

His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.

Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?

When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“

Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.

If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.

His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.

It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.

Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”

All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.

Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.

Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.

Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.

Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”

Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.

Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.

He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.

Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.

“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“

Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”

Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.

Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”

Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”

Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”

Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”

Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”

It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.

They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.

Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.

[astromaniac]

solar return chart observations 1

what is a solar return chart?

the solar return chart is calculated for when the sun returns to its natal position. due to this, the chart lasts 12 months (a year). solar return charts are used to observe themes for a specific year and make predictions.

how to find your solar return chart:

head to: https://www.astro.com/horoscope

go to horoscopes -> horoscope drawing and data -> extended chart selection

enter your birth data

change chart type to solar return chart (scroll down)

north node in the 1st house can be an incredibly transformative year and can push you in the right direction towards your life's purpose. with this said, this year can push you to your limits, taking you outside of your comfort zone, and can definitely be difficult.

9th house prominence can suggest that you may be travelling overseas this year.

chiron in solar return charts shouldn't be underestimated! chiron represents our vulnerability, healing and wounds. the house, sign and aspects that chiron is in/receives will most likely be felt this year.

-> for instance, i lost my period for one year when the ruler of my 6th house (the house governing health) was conjunct the moon and chiron in my solar return chart.

the themes of the house in which your natal ascendant falls in your solar return chart can be of more significance this year.

solar return venus conjunct natal venus can suggest that your love life will become more lively and venusian themes become more prominent this year. romantic relationships are favored and can get a surge of energy.

-> for instance, my sister had this in her solar return chart the year she met her online boyfriend in person - it impacted them both positively and greatly.

solar return venus conjunct natal mars is also an indicator of the same sort of themes discussed above for solar return venus conjunct natal venus.

-> continuing on with the example used above, my sister's boyfriend had his solar return venus conjunct his natal mars in his solar return chart the year they met in person.

uranus contacting the moon (especially conjunct) can indicate that themes regarding the home, stability and security may be shaken up during this year either positively, negatively or both! this can suggest moving houses or moving overseas.

mars in the 1st house can lend to a year where motivation and drive comes easier and is generally a great time to become more physically active eg. through developing a new workout routine.

-> for instance, when i had this in my solar return chart, i was very determined and energetic that year (i burnt myself out!). i also started to focus on creating and following a workout plan to build muscle - which i did :) -, and still follow to this day.

heavy, negative 12th house prominence can indicate that secrets are more likely to circulate and impact you this year.

-> an extreme example of this would be Donald Trump's solar return chart for this year. He has 3 planets conjunct in the 12th house that only receive several squares. Saturn, being the ruler of the chart's 6th house (health), squares this stellium. He got shot recently and this shooting/assassination attempt was a secret which impacted him.

Part of fortune in the solar return chart can signify areas of importance for that year. it can definitely be interpreted as areas of luck and blessings but I also see it as a body that does have some type of karmic connotations.

thank you for reading this post!

note: everything in this post are simply my own observations and are not to be taken as solid facts. use what information resonates. :)

credit for flower dividers: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

~ 𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓪𝓬

[anathemaspeaks]

Fluff prompts 4 and 28 please with Bakugo 💥❤️

"you're blushing" "am not!"

"because i'm in love with you, dumbass"

check out my prompt list and request stuff <3

bakugou katsuki always gets what he wants.

but what happens when it's you that he wants?

you had been his (self-proclaimed) best friend ever since the both of you were five years old. front teeth still not fully grown, but a wide gummy grin on your face, you told him you would be best friends forever.

you had grabbed his arm and dragged him to the playground right after that, his mouth comically hanging open at how you said that, two minutes after meeting him. i mean, you were basically asking for a death sentence.

but he didn't know whether he was more shocked about your actions, or the fact that he hadn't yelled your head off yet.

then again, you had always been special to him.

you were the only one who could get him to calm down, almost instantly - a talent for which mitsuki called you her personal blessing. one hand on his shoulder, one whisper, and he was at your mercy. he was whipped before either of you even knew it.

(except mitsuki, though. she saw it coming miles away.)

bakugou has known he's loved you since the day you showed up to his house, soaked from head to toe because of the rain. why? because he said he 'wasn't feeling too good' and doesn't think he can hang out today.

god, he thought his heart would beat right out of his chest at the sight of you - he felt like he was melting. you were too sweet for your own good. you made his stoic, harsh composure mellow down into the bakugou only you ever got to see.

of course, he did yell at you for ten minutes for being "so fuckin' stupid n' reckless," but the poorly concealed smile on his face and the worry etched onto his handsome face told you enough about how he truly felt about the situation.

that was when he knew he just couldn't ignore it anymore. he loved you. more than he thought his little explosive heart was capable of. and mentally, he didn't give a shit about how you felt.

you were his girl since day one. you just didn't know it yet.

being katsuki's best friend also meant you could see he had a clear soft spot for you - one which you couldn't help but fall in love with yourself. it came with looking at his actions rather than his words, because he said a lot of words.

it was in the way he would complain about you being an idiot for not bringing a sweater, and still give you his own jacket every time it was cold, the way he would act like it was a problem to help you with your homework, but he would stay up until two in the morning just to help you - even baking for you or cooking to help you sometimes, and tucking you in when you fell asleep on your books.

(never in a million years would he admit it, but he would stare at you until he lost track of time when you would doze off. he may or may not have kissed your forehead once, too.)

it's no surprise you end up going everywhere and doing everything together - like bakugou would ever let you out of his sight. you were basically attached at the hip. for safety reasons, obviously.

that's what he told you, at least.

but how do you end up here?

you were sparring with bakugou less than a moment ago, explosions firing off into the air which crackled with fire and the smell of burnt caramel. a routine of yours for a long time now.

sweat dripping down both of your bodies, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and determination as you both sent blow after blow, short pants escaping the both of you as your muscles strained with every movement, fighting to defeat the other.

and then you trip on nothing, comically waving your hands in the air as you fall down and bring katsuki down with you, landing oh so gracefully on top of him with a loud thud, and a surprised grunt from him.

you stay in that position for a moment to get your bearings, before propping yourself up on your hands to see if he was okay. totally not to check out his muscles in the compression shirt he chose to wear today, and the adorable little grumpy pout on his face.

but you might've ended up looking too long, because-

"oi, 's there somthin' on my face, shitty woman?" he grumbled, averting his gaze from yours, strong arms still wrapped around you.

but you couldn't help it. you'd seen him from up close before, but never in a position like this. it made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, being able to look at all his breathtaking features from so near. with you on top of him, nonetheless.

the implications had your heart racing.

"i asked you a question, dumbass" he repeated as his eyes looked at you again, his crimson gaze scrutinizing you as his nose adorably scrunched up a bit in annoyance at your unrelenting stare. oh, shit.

"sorry!" you squeaked. you didn't mean to get caught staring so blatantly. your whole body felt like it was on fire with the physical contact you had with him. and he caught you.

"you're blushing" he stated.

but it made his heart beat a little faster, knowing he had that effect on you just as you did on him. you looked cute, very cute this way. but would you ever let him know he was making you feel that way? hell no. he was cocky enough already.

"am not!" you huffed, squirming to get off him-

but oh. he had his strong arms around your waist, effectively trapping you between them. it was now or never, bakugou was a no nonsense guy, and he was determined to get you to admit your feelings now that he knew he could make you so flustered. so easily too. it was almost embarrassing if he didn't adore the look on your face right now.

he tightened his hold on you, just to see how you'd react. not because he liked the way your body felt so warm against his. not because he thought he could hold you like this forever if you would let him. and definitely not because he loved looking at you from this close.

you let out a surprised squeal at the feeling, and before you knew it, you were red all to the tips of your ears. damn him, you thought. but all you could think about was how comfortable you felt, the familiar scent of burnt caramel invading your senses as it has so many times before.

"then why'd ya jus' start blushin' even more?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, knowing he's got you now.

"oh, 's it cause of the heat? cause i beat your ass during training? or maybe its c-"

"it's because i'm in love with you, dumbass!" you put a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. he let out a shit-eating grin, knowing he'd won. and god, he's never wanted to kiss you as much as he did right now, finally knowing you feel the same way.

"you want to- what? you feel the same way?"

shit. he said that out loud?

but before he could say anything, your lips touched his, a wide grin on your face, making his mind go blank. and they molded so perfectly against his own. they felt so soft and full, he was sure you'd get him addicted. like you both were made for each other.

and he was sure you were, because bakugou katsuki does always gets what he wants, after all.

[gorefreaklintjrwi]

Band-aids

Troy comes back home from his father after losing another game. Lint helps him patch him up, again.

HELLO LINTROLLER NATION. I AM BACK AT IT AGAIN. I think I could have done better but this will never get done if I keep messing around with it..... ALSO! i guess inspired by. another fic that i wrote. if you wanna read that one too

Troy enters the house. As he closes the door behind him, he already feels his eyes begin to water.

Lint hears him walk through the door, and he puts his pen and paper down to go greet him. He isn’t surprised to see Troy crying, he lost another game and it’s safe to assume that his father didn’t take it well. He usually doesn’t. “Happened again?” Lint says, just above a whisper. Troy nods his head.

There is silence in the room now.

Lint speaks up again, “Do you wanna just hang out for a little bit? We could watch TV. You don’t have to say anything.”

Lint doesn’t see any marks, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there or that nothing happened. Judging by the way Troy holds onto his arm, though, he has an idea of what may have occurred. The two of them walk over to the couch and take their seats. Neither of them really care what’s on the TV, they just care about being by each other’s sides.

Lint wraps an arm around Troy. This has happened enough times for Troy to know that Lint is safe, that he won’t hurt him, and now it is a comforting feeling for him. He likes being close to Lint. It’s nice to know what it feels like to be this close to someone and still feel safe.

“Hey, Lint, I’m not- I’m not, like, a disappointment, am I? My dad’s just lying, right broski?” Troy always asks this, and Lint always tells him that his dad is wrong. “No, Troy, you aren’t a disappointment. Not to me.”

Troy takes a deep breath. Tears still stream down his face, but it has slowed a bit since they sat down. “He hurt me. My arm.” “Do you want me to help?” “Not now. I like how we are now.” “Okay, man. I’ll patch you up later, then. We can stay here as long as you like.”

Lint wants to help more, but if Troy is okay for now, that’s all that matters. If Troy is happy, that’s enough for them.

Lint hates that he expects this kind of thing to happen after Troy loses games, and they wish that one day he won’t have to deal with this. What Lint didn’t expect, though, was for Troy to wrap his own arms around him and hug him. Lint’s not complaining, though. Troy lays his head against Lint’s shoulder. He looks tired. He can’t really blame him, it’s been a long day for both of them. It’s about time they got some rest.

–

Lint wakes up the next morning on the couch, and he immediately notices the absence of Troy in his arms and the sound of eggs scrambling in the kitchen.

Lint got up from the couch and moved slowly to the kitchen. They probably would’ve slept better if he’d gone to his own bed, but they don't mind waking up on the couch because he knows Troy was happy. Lint starts brewing a pot of coffee, and he barely even notices Troy in the corner of his eye cooking scrambled eggs. Surely the eggs are burnt by now, they should've been done a minute or two ago. But they notice something else, too. Troy is wearing a short-sleeve shirt, and now Lint sees exactly what Troy was talking about last night. He saw what was hurting and he wishes they could’ve helped him earlier.

“Does your arm hurt? I could help you make it feel better.” Lint asks. His voice is still groggy and crackly, since they’ve just woken up. “Nah broski, it hurts a little but I’m cookin’ up some freaking scrambled eggs, man!”

Lint glances into the pan. That is not edible. At least not anymore.  “Hey, man, I think the eggs are burnt. Like, I don’t think that’s edible.” “Oh.”

Lint turns the stove off and takes the pan full of extremely burnt scrambled eggs outside. The 2 of them did try to eat the scrambled eggs, but like Lint thought, they weren’t very appetizing.

Well, that’s three perfectly good eggs down the drain. Or should they say, into the yard for stray animals to get after. They place the now empty pan in the sink when they return, and he grabs an ice pack from the freezer. He always has ice packs ready now, just in case Troy gets hurt. And he gets hurt more often than not. Even though they’ve played this game a hundred times before, Troy still just looks back at Lint as if he’s a deer in headlights.

“Dude, I’m fine. It’s not even that bad, man, it’ll just go away soon…” Troy murmured. “But it does hurt, doesn’t it? And it could hurt a little less. Just hold that ice pack up to your arm, wherever it hurts most, man! I’ll be back in a second!” Lint replies before running off to grab a box of band-aids, which in this situation are completely useless, but it’ll make Troy feel a bit better and they know that.

Lint rushes back to where Troy stands in the kitchen holding a box of regular old band-aids. They would’ve grabbed the fun ones with cartoon characters on them, but they ran out of those from last time and this is all they’ve got now. Lint grabs a couple of band-aids and applies them to the bruises. This act isn’t going to help anything, really, but it’s the thought that counts. This says ‘I love you’ better than any words could, at least for Lint and Troy.

For them, they don’t need to say ‘I love you’ to each other, it’s already present in the way that they speak, in the way they look at each other, it’s present in every little thing that they do. Even if Troy is still unlearning, even if Lint is stuck waiting to hear those words for the rest of his life, that’s fine by them. Because everything is okay now. Troy is safe, Troy is smiling. Troy is happy, and so is Lint.

[javiscigarette]

Ease

Javier Peña x f!reader

Requested:

requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank

warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!

my masterlist

You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.

There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment. 

He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window. 

“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove. 

He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different. 

But he didn’t see. 

“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile. 

So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.” 

You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens. 

“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead. 

All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire. 

You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks. 

“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt. 

You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking. 

“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too” 

You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job” 

"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."

You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support. 

"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."

Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze. 

"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."

You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work. 

"I know”  you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. 

"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl” 

You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart. 

“Thank you” you whisper.

Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support. 

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.” 

You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day. 

After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. 

“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”

His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. 

“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.

“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin. 

"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."

His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."

All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again. 

He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.

 His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access. 

His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him. 

He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.” 

You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way

You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey. 

He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him. 

“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”  

His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes. 

“Take off your shorts.” 

You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side. 

“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard. 

“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip. 

“Turn around, cariño.”

You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long. 

He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison. 

“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers. 

“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple. 

You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response. 

“Want you to use your words, bebita.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding. 

“F-feels good, Javi.” 

He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again. 

“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear. 

Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest. 

Fuck. 

The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so. 

“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy” 

“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.” 

He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it. 

“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.” 

“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended. 

“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.” 

He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction –  the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now. 

“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?” 

You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise. 

“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.” 

You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment. 

“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible. 

He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs. 

He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask. 

“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again. 

“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple. 

His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance. 

He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore. 

He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around. 

“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder. 

“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it” 

His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans. 

And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you. 

 “There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch. 

You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.

He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle. 

“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.

You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.” 

You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets. 

You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous” 

“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up. 

“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”

Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again. 

“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want. 

“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it. 

“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.

“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago. 

“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.” 

“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.” 

He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.

But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it. 

“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you. 

Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again. 

“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me” 

Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.

And Javi feels it too.

“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock. 

“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across. 

Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand. 

He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line. 

“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum” 

Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.

“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ” 

His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once. 

The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible. 

“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?” 

You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.

Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure. 

He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you. 

You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long.��

He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again. 

“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers. 

You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.

“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away. 

“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.

I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Darlene, you never did have sense!” Your grandmother yawls.  

Your eyes roll to the ceiling and settle on the wall. Your mother snarls back, “it wasn’t my fault!” 

“It never is your fault, is it? But it’s always my mess to clean up.” The old woman barks. 

You sigh and turn off the lamp. Despite the devastation of your home, the rest of your life remains in place. You have a shift at the deli and you can’t afford to miss a single minute now. You know your grandma won’t put up with you for long. You don’t think you can stand her either. 

The venomous back and forth continues as you pull a pillow over your head. It’s impossible to drown out. When it stops, your mom crashes through the door and stomps around. Your adrenaline spikes again. You haven’t really calmed down since the trailer folded into dust. 

She flops onto the bed and scrolls through her phone. The brightness seeps in below the edge of the pillow. The double futon isn’t very spacious. 

The speaker crackles and she cackles at some shitty video. The noise has you rolling to face the wall. She’s so oblivious. Or maybe she doesn’t give the shit. It’s not so different than the trailer. She never did try to keep it down. 

You get no peace even as she falls asleep. She snores like a broken lawn mower. You toss and turn as your grandmother’s cigarette smoke tickles your throat. 

Your life wasn’t grand before. The double-wide was no palace but it was better than this. You huff and give in to insomnia. You stare at the ceiling as frustration boils to rage. 

You can still hear his laughter. Tony Stark is in his fancy robotic suit with his overpriced haircut and blatant nonchalance. He didn’t give a shit that he just destroyed a home. To him, the idea of living in that is laughable. And laugh he did. 

The echo of his amusement irks you until you can no longer lay still. You shimmy to the bottom of the bed and climb off. You snatch your phone from the charger and pace around. The floor creaks under your feet. 

Didn’t he say he’d replace it? Maybe some things can’t be bought but you still own the lot, at least for another month. You just need something to put there. He said so. He owes you. 

So, where the heck is your trailer? 

You push your thumb down without thinking. You type, letting the vitriol stream out of your thumbs.  

‘Tony Stark destroyed my home and my life.  

Right now, I’m at my grandma’s house. Again. Me and my mom have been forced to seek refuge in her guest room. The smell of tobacco and cat piss is so pungent I could choke. I can’t sleep on the futon shared between the both of us and in the morning, I’ll turn in for a minimum-wage job and when I get my check, I still won’t be able to replace what he ruined. 

Four walls. That’s all we had and now we have nothing. Because that playboy, billionaire, douchebag didn’t look where he was flying. He may have saved New York but he has burnt our life to the ground. Literally.’ 

You attach one of the photos you snagged of the wreck. You took as many as you could hoping that the park might be able to use it for an insurance claim. Your heart thumps as you hit post. The little blue line fills up and the check mark flashes. 

You feel better. It’s always nice to be able to vent your problems and you can’t do so with your mom. She’ll just pick apart your words until it’s your fault. And your grandma can’t be bothered to listen either. She would only rant about how she’s stuck with a bunch of losers. 

You plug your phone back in and crawl back onto the futon, fitting in between your mom and the wall. You can get a few hours in before you have to drag yourself to the deli. Tony Stark can take whatever he wants but he won’t steal any more of your sleep. 

After another bout of restlessness, you sink into a shallow haze. You awake with a stone behind your forehead. You take some Advil as you climb out of bed. Your mom continues to snore as you dress in the musty clothes borrowed from your grandma. She’ll begrudge you those along with that the water you use to shower and brush your teeth. 

You leave the house in silence. You yawn and light up your phone on the way to the bus stop. You have to transfer from this route to your usual.  

Huh. That can’t be right. 50k? That’s absurd. You press down on the notification and it brings up your post. 

Oh. It’s real. Your post has blown up. Fifty-thousand. That’s pretty good but it’s hardly viral. If anything, the fanfiction girlies probably think it’s a fic preview. 

You put your phone away as the bus approaches. You dumb a handful of change in the machine as you board and find a seat near the front. Your head bobbles as your eyes droop. Now you can sleep. Huh. 

You open the deli as usual. You set to slicing the days orders and get the breads in the oven. The doors unlock just after eight and the usual customers mill in. When John gets there after ten, you step aside to check your phone. 

No way. A million. It’s impossible. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. A post on the internet isn’t going to get you your trailer back. It will die out soon enough. Maybe you should just delete it. No, that feels wrong. A shitty thing happened and you have a right to be unhappy about it. So, you will and you’ll scream it at your phone screen. 

You put your phone back in your apron and go back to work. The virtual world doesn’t matter. Esther wants her turkey breast. 

[whoistartaglia]

can genshin men cook?

after a long day of work, what do you come home to: the aroma of dinner cooking in the oven or the smoke detector blaring and a kitchen on fire…?

diluc is so house husband that you would ideally come home to a warm meal set on the dining room table, except for the occasions when he overcooks the food. it’s not his fault, really. blame the pyro god who gave diluc his vision, that may or may not flare up when he’s trying to slowly roast some chicken and vegetables over an open flame. one second everything is fine, the next the chicken is blackened and some of the vegetables have been reduced to ash.

if childe is cooking you a family recipe or a traditional snezhayan dish, then you know you’re coming home to a delicious smelling kitchen and fresh flowers set on the table. childe considers it an act of appreciation and love, cooking his home favorites for you. he puts care in his cooking, and has practice from from feeding his younger siblings growing up. the dishes always turn out amazing and you’ll get him blushing from head to toe if you ask him to show you how to make it.

kaeya is more of a takeout kind of guy. that’s not to say he won’t cook for you if you ask—there are at least a handful of dishes and recipes he knows how to make, and pretty damn well, too. but if he’s also coming home from a long day at work, he’ll probably order something from a local tavern or restaurant, and bring it home. kaeya always remembers to order your favorite, and the takeout food is always set out on the table when you get home. and of course, he always takes care to order your favorite meal, which he knows like the back of his own hand.

xiao won’t burn down the kitchen, but he might get close. he doesn’t have a whole lot of mortal food he enjoys, and so doesn’t have much experience in cooking human food. xiao does try his best for you, though, because he wants you to come home to a nice dinner and relaxing evening. so if xiao happens to start a kitchen fire or set off the smoke alarms, he makes sure to handle it before you get home. you won’t even smell the remnants of the fire in the air, thanks to xiao’s anemo powers.

itto is also very house husband, but when it comes to other things, like building or renovating or practicing fighting moves in the backyard. while he can cook, it’s always a gamble whether you’re coming home to a kitchen half-burnt or an actual living fire. he swears he has it under control. he reassures you everything is fine, and to his credit, he does manage to put out the fire(s) and get something edible on the table. itto will also be very proud of his work, and you agree with his “raw, sheer talent” even as your fork is covered in ash and the burnt remains of some poor grocery store food.

ayato has personal chefs and the meals you come home to are always perfect. how could they not be, when crafted by the finest cooks in inazuma? if you actually request ayato himself to cook for you, he’ll do so happily. he’s a very meticulous, methodical cook—chopping vegetables precisely, using measuring cups and spoons for amounts people usually eyeball, and waiting until the stove or oven is at the perfect temperature before use. his meals turn out amazing—more than the private chefs, because this one is homecooked from the heart.

zhongli definitely has extensive knowledge of cooking and old recipes from liyue, and makes warm, delicious homecooked meals for you… but you still come home to a messy, smoking kitchen once in a while. you’re kind of relieved at that, since it shows that, for all his godly powers and extensive wisdom, zhongli still has his moments. so you laugh as you extinguish the fire even as zhongli is apologizing profusely. though if you suggest to go to your favorite restaurant, zhongli will refuse—he’s gonna start again from scratch, because a meal is what you requested of him, and a meal is what he will deliever.

wriothesley will set the kitchen on fire and say it’s on purpose—and most of the time, it is. his cool calculations melt away when he’s in the kitchen, as once pristine counters become rather messy, and the organized pantry and fridge, disorganized. wriothesley claims it’s because this is how he works best on the kitchen, and you suppose that’s true given his cooking style, which is picking out ingredients, throwing them together, and hoping for something tasty. it’s unfair, really, how good he is at cooking without trying. the kitchen is an embodiment of a hot mess.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Hi! may I request something? the residential masked fellas (Ghost, Konig, Keegan, & Roach), x therapist!reader, who's a billionaire? (shocking part, the billionaire part was not mentioned by our reader) I imagine reader spoiling their s/o with gifts & affectionate stuff they deserve, while helping them get a sense of theirselves or something like that 😭 (most of the cod characters need therapy, to be honest) BUT- they start to suspect how on earth did reader get all of the stuff? cause i'm sure reader gifted them the expensive kind- but anyways, reader just casually just says their a billionaire, like it's normal- how would they react to this?

Please take care of yourself & stay safe !! 💖

a/n: you take care too!!! Sorry to all my followers for not posting in forever 😔 I had family stuff going on, and I’m a bit burnt out so I couldn’t come up with story plots for some of the characters

konig:

-konig is a well off man to begin with, but doesn’t use much of the money he earns with his impressive title as he has little idea what to actually buy when it comes to things being worthwhile, and hence since you give him so many gifts, his house is mostly filled with gifts then actual things he bought

-always took the gifts at face value and adored the thought put into them and never really thought to think of how much money you must spend

-eventually though, one of his few off duty friends asked why he had such high class things in his house as they pointed out gifts you had simply given him and he started to get quite curious himself

-called you up one night to ask, waking you up as he asked a simple “uh- maus? You know the mixer you got me last week when I said I wanted to make cookies is 800 dollars, why??”

-you had to stop laughing out loud from his confusion since you thought you had been open with it due to the amount of things you simply gave him

Roach:

-stayed in his cramped barracks a lot of the time and very rarely replaced any of his tearing gear because he was too tired to do so, he just generally didn’t care how the public saw him and had little care on himself

-of course that changed when you practically threw him new clothes, new gear, new facial care for his tiny apartment he used when off duty. He started to actually enjoy getting to indulge in a massage or a face mask while he simply felt all clean

-of course, he thought it was all temporary, that you were just spending a particular amount on a well paying month, but as it went on and on continued, he started to get more and more confused

-one day when you took him on a shopping trip, he saw you check your checking account and THATS when he realized that you planned to pay for his every whim personally and could without damage… a very flustering experience

Ghost:

-never truly is off guard even when off duty or around people, it’s built into him from trauma and past and his job doesn’t help to much with that

-however, he does have a particularly interesting hobby that calms him down more then most things can, even you (although he adores you with all his heart). And that hobbies is photography. Of things he enjoys, that is. He never put money into a very good camera, never seeing the need in doing so until you bought him one…

-he cherishes that camera more then he cherishes his mask, which is saying quite a bit. He didn’t know how much he actually needed the upgrade till he saw the difference in his photos

-he of course, shows it off to his team. And soap points out exactly how pricey it must be for a lil old therapist to buy. he starts to get worried, did you spend money you didn’t have on him? Did he take away from your own funds? Did he just take it and not think about the damage you might have created yourself without even thinking twice???

-calls you on his burner phone in a tiny bit of a panic, but it doesn’t show too much under his gruff tone. He lets out a sigh he didn’t notice he was holding in once you told him that you in fact had the money to buy that camera 100 times over

[flatstarcarcosa]

me, talking about how lester keeps thinking if i live in new york long enough i'll stop being a redneck: he's always getting on me for being 'too goddamn nice' and i keep having to tell him that baby. i'm not subdued and overly polite because i'm southern i'm subdued and overly polite because if i wasn't my parents would beat me. a thing i shouldn't have to keep reminding him of as often as i do based on the fact that he was there.

the real self shipping cringe is that sometimes i think about the timelines where the blorbos let me dabble in indie stand up and think up a fictional joke for the timeline that is so goddamn funny i get mad i'd have no way to fudge it and recreate it IRL

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby... Pain is Pleasure - Part 6 TEASER

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – THESE WARNINGS COVER ALL PARTS OF THIS FICTION/ IMAGINE STORY- THEY MAY NOT BE SPECIFIC TO THIS PARTICULAR PART! - 

SMUT,  GIRL X GIRL, MAN X MAN, POLY RELATIONSHIPS/SEXUAL, BDSM, BLOOD, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) CHEATING, STALKERS/ STALKING, SMOKING/ CIGARETTES 

TAG LIST - @babybatlover @p0is0nl0ve @babiidee28 @darlingnikkisixx @commandershepardofthedas

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure - Part Six Teaser -

“LET ME IN!” 

My voice echoed throughout the stadium, the floors shook, and the crowd went wild as tens of thousands of fans lept up to their feet and screamed. The ominous wooden door slammed open revealing a brightly lit spotlight, an empty rocking chair, blown out candles and a smashed lantern...but no one was there. Colorful lights began flashing all throughout the arena as every walkway and set of stairs was drowned out with smoke. Within seconds every inch of the floor had disappeared and all that remained in sight was the four L.E.D posts of the ring, each panel illuminated with grey tv static. 

Uncle Howdy grimaced and threw his arms up and towards the Witch who was still stationed above the fake mannequin doll in the centre square. The remaining Wyatt family members all made their way through the ropes and reconvened in the center of the ring, scanning every corner in search for where I could be. 

A high pitch whistle came through the sound system followed swiftly by a loud boom from above. This set off a course of flashing white strobe lights and the sounds of screeching alarms as an enormous steel cage was lowered down and around the ring, quickly being locked into place by multiple ring crew. 

“Howdyyy” a playful voice sounded out once again from above them as the alarms softened and the strobe lighting faded sightly, giving way to a single spotlight. There I stood, on top of the steel cage twirling around the suspension rope that was locked onto that dreaded frame. 

“You want to play games, huh?” I mocked him as I crouched down, smiling at their angry faces. Like rats caught in a trap, they were vulnerable… and they did not like it. Not one bit. Continuously slamming my foot down onto the cage I broke through one of the emergency clips used to hold a part of frame in place and dropped down into the ring, swiftly being caught in midair by an usually tall member of the ring crew. 

There I stood, face to face with my demons. All five of them, and they were enraged. I took a step back to create a small gap between myself and the Wyatts, raising the microphone up once more. 

“We can play a game… in fact. Let’s play one of my favorites.” I smirked, holding back the humor in my voice as I clung on to the upper hand for as long as possible.  As well as the fact that, well knowing Hunter was backstage, I needed to try and keep these promos somewhat PG. 

“Welcome… to my little house of horrors!" I motioned around the ring set up before continuing, "See you destroyed my home once; you took everything that was pure and insightful about it. You took all the good that it could have done, and you burnt it… you burnt it to the ground Howdy.” My eyes glared into his, no one yet dared to move a muscle, the battle was set but the war had not yet begun. 

“You took every single person that he could have rescued, every life and soul he tried to protect. You stole the light from the fireflies to ignite your own pathway of Hell. You took those who were pardoned from their sins, those who had paid their debts... and threw them back into the flames. But now… Once friends turned to foe, Once a sense of loyalty now enemies by blood. I see you have bought your family with you into battle?” I looked up into each of their eyes as the crowd fell silent and the lights all dimmed throughout the arena, only the ring hidden within a steel cage remaining in sight. I opened my arms out as the ring crew surrounded me, discarding their hoodies. 

“Let me introduce you, to mine” 

Behind me stood Rhea Bloody Ripley, Damian Priest, Finn Balor & Dirty Dominik Mysterio. Each one dressed in full ring gear attire; each one fueled by the hatred for the nightmare these monsters have bestowed upon their girl. Each one fully prepared to go to the darkest depths of war. 

“It’s now or never Howdy, it’s all or nothing. My Championship or my secrets, your family or your legacy. I’ve always been a gambling girl, gotta say I’m rather pleased with the hand ive been dealt, how’s yours looking?” 

Howdy took a step forward, followed by each member from opposing family sides standing face on to each other. It was Damian vs Rowan, Finn vs Dexter, Dominik vs Joe Gacy, Rhea vs Nikki & Uncle Howdy vs Y/W/N. 

“You are starting a war, a war you can never win Y/W/N” Howdy laughed to himself, grinning at me as everyone else held their emotionless death glares. 

“I’m not so sure about that” I smirked looking up and around the steel caged cell, the numerous weapons of torture and mysterious objects hanging from above the rafters on lifelines. I won’t lie, it kind of resembled our bedroom back home. 

I smirked and held the microphone up to my lips, “You’re in our world now… and we’ve had loads of practice” I winked before dropping the mic and landing a right hook straight to Uncle Howdy’s Jawline. 

The Bell rang.

The stadium erupted.

This. Was. War. 

TBC?

[littlefireball]

May I please request a Yeosang x reader x Seongwha smut. Where yeosang is a virgin and so is reader and seongwha set up so yeosang can lose his virginity unknowingly the reader was a virgin so they went at it and reader started to bleed and freak out and Yeosang helped her settle down and called Seongwha to come in and help etc?

hmm sorry im not sure i understand so i write this request based on my own understanding.

ʏꜱ|ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ (ᴍ) ꜰᴛ. ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴋɪꜱꜱ|ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘ|ᴛʜʀᴇᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ(??)|ᴄʟɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ

Masterlist

Dragon hybrids, like werewolves, usually find their soulmate after their first shift which is between the age 18 to 20. Yet, there is a difference. If that dragon hybrid doesn't mark their mate, they can be marked by others which means their soulmate can be 'stolen'.

"You still haven't marked Y/N yet?!"Seonghwa nearly exclaimed in disbelief upon learning that you and Yeosang had not yet mated. "We are not prepared," Yeosang mumbled, feeling embarrassed as he nervously scratched his neck.

"C'mon, Yeosang. You know it's risky if you don't mark her." "I know but…" To be honest, Seonghwa couldn't imagine Yeosang marking you as he was too innocent to do that. But, it was necessary. Seonghwa's mate had been 'stolen' because he believed they weren't ready for mating, just like what Yeosang thought, and tragedy ensued. The painful and sorrowful memories were still fresh, and he never wanted Yeosang to go through that.

"Sangie~" You rushed to Yeosang once you found Yeosang and Seonghwa were resting in the pavilion, back hugging yeosang and nuzzling his neck. You loved his oud wood scent. "Have you finished training?" He gently caressed your head, smiling lovingly. "Yah!I ranked first today. Did I do well?" You nodded as a fool, acting so cute. "My baby is always doing well." He pecked at your cheek, his gaze wall full of affection.

"Okay, you two. I'm still here." Seonghwa said helplessly, covering his face as if he was watching something embarrassing. "Oh sorry, Seonghwa." You trailed off, offering an embarrassing smile.

"Y/N you want a fly?" Yeosang asked. "Sure." "Okay, then you two go to fly and don't be hovey-dovey in front of me." You two nodded as you spread your wings and flew to the sky, disappearing from Seonghwa's gaze.

"Sigh Maybe I have to do something to help them." Seonghwa decided.

—----

You both embraced each other on the lush green grass, relishing in the serene moments. While some may find it mundane to simply recline on the earth and engage in idleness, you both found joy in it as well. After all, you were soulmates.

"Y/N?" "Hm?" You raised your head to meet his gentle gaze. "I have something to ask you…" "What? Honey." "You are my mate and I know it is risky not to mark you." Yeosang trailed off, feeling embarrassed as blush creeped up his face. You didn't say anything but just looked at him getting closer to your lips. "What do you think about this?" He brushed your lips with his thumb, whispering softly. "I…" A sudden ringing phone cut you off, Yeosang took out his phone and 'Seonghwa hyung' flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" Seonghwa's angry face displayed on the screen, you knew something bad happened. "Yeosang, you better come back now. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU'VE MADE!" The camera panned to reveal a charred section of the kitchen, evidence of a forgotten stove. "Oh my god! I'm back right now!" Both of you flew back to their shared house as fast as possible, without noticing that it was only a fake image.

"Seonghwa hyung?" The house stood empty, devoid of any signs of a burnt stove. All seemed in perfect order, as if untouched by any mishap. "Why did he call us then?" Yeosang inquired, to which you simply shrugged. "Yet, do you not detect a special fragrance?" Upon stepping inside, a delightful aroma embraced you like a warmth, causing both your body temperatures to soar.

"Is it from you?Y/N?" You could tell Yeosang's gaze was full of lust, his tone became even deeper. Actually, that special fragrance was yours, just enhanced. Yeosang's oud wood scent enveloped you like a hot wave; and your musk scent crushed his sanity.

Both of you got nuts.

"You smell so good, Y/N." Yeosang's longing surged like a wild creature unleashed from its confines, compelling him to assert his dominance over you. He found himself unable to resist drawing you close, burying his face in your neck, savoring your intoxicating aroma. "Yeo…yeosang." Instinctively, you tilted your head, granting him greater proximity, sensing his hold grow stronger.

"No, it's not enough." He whispered softly against your delicate skin before swiftly removing your top. Yeosang was overcome with desire, lavishing kisses on every inch of your body as he tore your garments apart. You were taken aback by his sudden intensity, yet you couldn't bring yourself to halt his actions. He lifted you onto the table, causing items to crash to the floor. The noise of shattered objects failed to rouse him from his trance; his mind was consumed by your intoxicating scent.

You grabbed the edge of the table tightly to support yourself, watching him bury his face in your lower core. Pulling the hem of your panties to the side, he sucked and kissed your clit without a second thought. "Fuck!" You screamed at the sudden touch of wet muscle, making him suck harder and lick quicker. "Baby, you taste so good." He whispered against your clit before standing up to undress himself. Due to his lack of patience, he found himself in a rush. Enraged, he swiftly tore off his garments, causing the fabric to drape on each side of his well-built physique and you swallowed hard at this sense.

"Mine." He pulled out his cock and eased into you in one go, making you throw your head. Yet, he didn't allow you a moment to adjust as he proceeded with such intensity and speed. You furrowed your brow and clenched your lip to bear the discomfort, assuming it was usual. Yet, the discomfort jolted you awake from the longing. With each collision, it seemed as though you were being struck by a boulder, prompting you to hiss.

"Yeosang, yeosang." You attempted to halt him, yet he remained oblivious to your murmur. Your warmth, your fragrance, every aspect of you sent him into a frenzy. He drew his hips and shoved into you with all his might. "Oh!Fuck!!It hurts!Please stop, yeosang!" The sharp pain became unbearable and you shouted out, making yeosang stop immediately as his sanity came back.

"Baby?Baby?Are you alright?I…I…I'm sorry." He was heartbroken when he saw you cry, and couldn't believe what he had done to you. "Oh my god, you're bleeding." "What?!"As he withdrew slowly, he found that the blood was staining on his member and even dripping onto your thighs. You freaked out, not sure when it would stop. "It must hurt, I'm sorry, honey." Yeosang comforted you as he swept your tears and caressed your cheek with all his gentleness.

"Don't be that rough…" "Yah, yah, I'm sorry." He murmured softly before placing a tender kiss on your cheek; you enveloped him in a warm embrace, yearning for comfort. But, both of you felt bad now, not only because of the pain he caused, but also from the fiery desire that still raged within your bodies. "Please fuck me one more time, I need you, sangie." You begged, feeling the emptiness was unbearable.

You needed him to fill you up, with his knot.

"But…what if I hurt you again? And you have to stop bleeding first." He asked with concern. "Please, please, please." You relinquished control as the tumultuous emotions unsettled you; yearning for his return, you extended your tail to ensnare his thigh and draw him near, yet the pain he caused just now gave you pause.

Feeling his tip rubbed against your entrance sent you a numbness through your body. Yes, that's what you wanted. Yeosang, however, stopped you before you could have a further process, causing you to whine in dissatisfaction.

"Baby, wait for a second. Hm?" You shook your head and pouted. "Be a good girl," He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, pecking at your cheek. "Let me help you stop bleeding first, okay? And I'll call Seonghwa hyung for help."

—---

"Need some help?" Seonghwa entered the room without a second thought once he received Yeosang's message for help, not realizing the fragrance was still lingering. Shit. Your musk scent was so freaking good to drive him crazy. "Oh gosh…" Seonghwa growled in a deep voice as he found you hugging Yeosang naked like a koala.

He wanted to fuck you, too.

"Seonghwa hyung, we need your help." Seonghwa clenched fists to keep calm, coming to both of you. "Wh─what you need…need me?" He stammered, unable to tear his gaze from your beautiful figure. "Please, teach me how to mark her." Yeosang's words made his eyes widened at surprise, he never expected this kind of request. "I hurt her but I can't just leave her…Did you get it…?" "Well, what you need to do is treat her gently." He swallowed hard as he got closer to you, feeling all the heat rush to his tip.

Seonghwa walked to you, his fingertip shaking at the moment he touched your back. His hands shifted to your thighs, lifting you up and whispering in your ears, "Sit on him, girl." Aiming at Yeosang's arched cock, you slowly sunk down and hissed at slight pain. "Take it slow and don't be too rough. That's it." Seonghwa's deep voice sent shiver down your spine, not to mention his breath landed against your skin, making your heartbeat raise up.

Your head rested on Yeosang's chest for a while, but still not moving. This position allowed Yeosang to nestle so deep inside you, each small movement could stimulate you. "I-I need help…" You asked for help as you were afraid of pain to move. "It's okay, honey." Yeosang brought you into a passionate kiss by cupping your face, sucking your lips slightly while starting to thrust upward. But again, you frowned because it was uncomfortable.

He was too big for you, maybe.

"Hey hey, slow it down, Yeosang." Seonghwa climbed onto the bed and sat behind you. "Try to relax, don't be so intense, Y/N." "Can you help her? Seonghwa hyung." "Wh…Are you sure?" "Yes, please help me, Seonghwa." "I won't mark her, I promise."

Seonghwa's hand trailed down to your clit, giving it a soft press before rubbing it at a quick pace. "Shit…" You whispered softly as you sensed his strong chest against your delicate back. Seonghwa skillfully moved his lower core closer to your ass, caressing it with his curved crotch; Yeosang, on the other hand, firmly held your chin to claim you into a hungry kiss.

You could feel how Seonghwa's cock nestled between your tight asses and Yeosang's member twitched each time you let out a moan. Seonghwa traced circles with his finger, occasionally tapping it, sending ripples of ecstasy through you. As the kiss broke, a newfound confidence surged within you, compelling you to bounce with desire. You mirrored Seonghwa's rhythm, bouncing up and down, maintaining a steady tempo.

"You're so good, babe." Yeosang rolled his eyes at the back as his tip reached the deepest part when you sunk down. The sensation of numbness just like an electricity ran through the whole body, making you both moan so loud. "Doing well, Y/N." Seonghwa encouraged you.

"Fuck!" You let out a soft whimper as their pace quickened. Yeosang surged upward, striking your most sensitive spot perfectly, causing your walls to clench around him. "I must claim you now," he declared, his size increasing as he prepared to knot you. With a firm grip on your waist, Yeosang leaned in closer. "Oh my!" Your head nestled against Seonghwa's chest, his crotch sunk deeper, eliciting a shared moan that lingered on both your lips.

Yeosang buried his face into the crook of your neck while thrusting as fast as possible. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, making blood flow out a little bit. Yeosang never felt this excitement before, causing him to almost cum. Seonghwa continued to tap and caressed your clit, moving faster to follow Yeosang's thrust.

"Fuck!!" Suddenly, a sharp pain spread throughout the body. Yeosang's cock entered your most intimate space and locked in. His thrusting was ruthless, trying to reach his peak. "Yeo…yeosang." You shutted your eyes and panted heavily, the pain was shifted to pleasure after a few powerful thrust. "Baby, cum with me and be mine." His words pushed you to the edge, coming hard on his cock. Yeosang bit your chest and released it all after a while, finishing the marking.

"Oh god…"Yeosang laid beside the bed and pulled you into his arms. "You alright?Honey." "Yah, I'm ok." Three of you wheezed and sweated profusely. "Thank you, hyung." "Nothing, just remember to clean up is ok." He rested his arm on his forehead, finding a wet spot on his crotch. Alas, it was hard to clean. Screw it!

"But wait a minute…" Yeosang gazed at Seonghwa with shock. "You call us back but there is no burnt stove!" Seonghwa stammered, not knowing how to respond. "You fool us!" "Wait─aww…" "What a horrible hyung!" "Wh─I just…sigh fine…" But, it may not be bad at all because you finally became his, forever his.

[thenewrises]

aw man another brain ramble (part 3) (18+ MDNI)

14DWY DAY 4 DROPPED!!!! YIPPEEE!!!!

so i spent some time replaying the game to find some info and went through my old posts because some stuff is new! i also have guess ren’s name and idk whether i got it right or not HOWEVER if i do get it right nobody will know… i’ll take it to the grave.

anyways some fun things in day 4, i feel like we’re finally getting into the LORE. which is exciting because one of the reasons i became so invested was the lore we would get on the blog.

ren likes to draw in his free time, that’s a fun tidbit. mysterious ink and mysterious black smoke? interesting… angel having flashbacks about their childhood the more time they spend with ren? LOVE IT.

parts 1 and 2 are here!

anyways with new content i have new observations! i am going down the "let's make him better not worse" route so keep that in mind in this post. i’ve gone through the blog again and hopefully haven’t missed too much, so let’s goooooooo

14 Days With You belongs to @14dayswithyou and @cutiesigh!

1. The Black Smoke

i have to admit i’ve gotten the bad ending without meaning to, because usually aren’t we supposed to want to move in with ren? he wants us to stay right?

not today!

this obviously has something to do with the main factor as the black smoke. what is the black smoke? it’s not a hallucination, and ren seemed EXTREMELY invested in it. and, not only that, he seems perplexed by it. what is the black smoke?

nobody is supposed to live on that floor with him, and even he has no idea about it. he becomes almost extremely fixated on it, and even distracted enough that if you tell them you want to stay at his house he barely pays attention.

it almost seems as if someone is incinerating something in there, but what?

something to point out is a lot of ren's scars are from burns, as fire has something to do with his past. i think i've talked about it before but in case i haven't, i have a belief that ren may have burnt down his childhood home in the past.

could the black smoke be an omen? we can see it as well, so it's not a hallucination of his mind. but this brings me to my next idea of what the black smoke could be.

2. His Computer

if while looking around you decide to peak into his computer, you get a conversation. i think their laptop is connected to their phone, because we can see a one way conversation as if ren had sent something to someone and then answered.

i believe this is river! as there is literally no one else ren would willingly talk to and even that is a rarity. however, confiding in someone with this kind of information seems like something he would say to river.

o - olivia

we know that river knows olivia from this relationship chart, and we've already run into her a few times. however, if she is involved in their past one way or another, she may have some of her own secrets. for one, she refers to ren in quotations, as if not believing their name, and river has been having issues of her following him around. could olivia be the killer? could olivia have something to do with their line of business?

"didn't we... u know?"

olivia isn't dead, so did they threaten her? blackmail her? hurt her?

it seems from my perspective that olivia may have rented out that apartment space and that smoke could be her doing.

we don't get a whole lot of information after that, since river or ren accessed and shut off the messaging app. but it seems olivia plays a bigger part than we thought.

3. What Is "It"?

this is the one that gets me thinking, because in the chat messages we hear about something river refers to as "that thing" and "it".

my first thought was olivia, but that made no sense because they had been properly referring to her and ren probably has no need to stay connected with her.

would this maybe be what's connected to the black smoke?

i haven't seen anything supernatural or non-human in this game, but the first thought i had was that it's some kind of entity. but, if there is nothing non-human in this game then what is ren in contact with? who? what happens when ren makes the thing mad?

it could be connected to his job, or something from his past entirely. one thought was maybe taylor, but why would he be in contact with his father? last time we heard, he has little to nothing to do with his family anymore.

What Is It?

4. The Drawings

something i learned is ren can draw! seems he likes to in his spare time. although angel seemed a bit concerned, as his drawings are not as light and romantic like the web comics they read, but... darker.

ren obviously connects with this gloomy character, who seems to be the main love interest in "always with you". my guess is he depicts gloomy and the MC as those characters, but gloomy specifically connected with them.

ren's inner turmoil is much more extreme then i considered, it feels as if he thinks he is always being watched. he purposefully isolates himself, but we know from childhood they were severely neglected by his father. maybe his father is those eyes, continuously tormenting them due to him not wanting to turn out like taylor.

some final thoughts

i may do another post when i get the time to look through more stuff and try connecting the dots, but this is what i have for now! i hope these coming days are more lore involved because it's been so fun to try and decode stuff.

another thing i didn't mention was the locked box, but there wasn't anything significant there. a ring is the key, so maybe we can get our ring from childhood back soon.

this may have been my favorite day thus far, and i'm excited for more in the future! i think i've been with this game fore around two years now, so i probably will stick around til the end.

[llondonfog]

as promised for coming home on my only 10-pull key, a little birthday drabble for our beloved peepaw :) pls enjoy & happy new year to all!

". . . Cookies?"

He makes no effort to disguise the insulted disbelief as he stares down at the plate of misshapen treats, eyebrows flying so far into his hairline that they nearly disappear.

"He may be but a child, and a human at that, but surely he ought to understand the gravity of your former position, the glories in which you are entitled to—"

"Former, and disgraced if I might add," Lilia corrects him, a lopsided grin tugging on his face as he too gazes at the plate of cookies with a ludicrously pleased expression. "And Silver is all of seven, Baul. A seven year old child who worked rather hard today at staying awake to surprise me with something delicious, so I'd be most grateful if you could manage to tame that famous Zigvolt boom as I'd hate for him to wake up from his nap."

It's worse than Baul could have ever expected.

Lilia Vanrouge, the fearless and fearsome once general of the fae armies, the former right hand to their dearly departed princess, turned sentimental over a plate of lumpy, and frankly burnt on the edges, cookies.

He'd come over to further discuss the matter of his grandson training with his former commander, staunchly ignorant of his own sentimentality towards the halfling child who so closely resembled him in both pride and spirit, only to find the fae sitting alone at the kitchen table with an odd and unfamiliar expression vulnerable upon his face and cradling a cookie as carefully within his talons as if it were spun from glass. Baul had nearly leapt to arms, convinced that there had been some sort of spell or potion from those who still wished ill upon Lilia cast to tempt him into eating such bizarre looking food— even though it looked clumsily made, there was simply no way he would have been fooled into believing it had been the product of Lilia's disastrous attempts. It simply wasn't foul enough— when Lilia had startled back into awareness, only to laugh at him and proclaim to Baul's utter bewilderment that these...cookies, were in fact his birthday gift from the human child residing within his home.

To which Baul promptly informed Lilia that he had taken leave of his senses and he'd never once shared that he knew of his birthday before. If he had, there'd have been no chance of the entire country forgetting it for the wondrous celebration Meleanor and Levan would have certainly thrown in the honor of their dearest friend.

"You're right," Lilia had said, smiling that strange little half-smile as he broke his gaze away from the plate to the quiet hallway leading from the kitchen. "But then again, I had nothing about myself to celebrate until very recently."

And there, the crux of the matter, the elephant in the room that Baul never truly questioned out of loyalty to the fae that had given more than anyone ever could to the sake of their country, to the Draconias alone. The human child, the boy that had shown up suddenly and stolen Lilia away to the forest, bewitched him somehow into playing house. Baul cannot understand it— Lilia had more reason than any of them to loathe humanity, to shun it for the remainder of his life and seek to live in peace away from their kind after their unforgivable transgressions.

Instead, in front of his astounded eyes, he can only watch in silence as a tear splashes down upon the chocolate speckled surface of the cookie before it's hastily crammed into Lilia's mouth, the fae spinning around to grin at him as if in blissful ignorance of the redness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"They're a bit salty, Baul, but I've never tasted anything better!"

Oh, he thinks, heart shaking in place as he too glances towards where a certain slumbering boy lies. Oh, you old fool. Do you even know how deep you've gone?

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3