#made mag drive

[a-aexotic]

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

--

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

--

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

--

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

--

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

____________________________________

Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.

You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.

He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.

It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.

But this was as good as it was going to get.

You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.

Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.

But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.

And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.

But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.

You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.

For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.

Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…

A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.

Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.

"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.

"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.

"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.

"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.

"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.

"Yeah, you're in law too…."

"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.

In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.

"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"

"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.

Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.

"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.

And you know you won't fail again.

"No."

He can feel the venom in your voice.

"I'm sitting here." He says after all.

You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.

At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.

"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.

"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.

You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.

He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.

But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.

So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.

Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.

…

"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.

"Yes?" You ask politely.

"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.

It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.

The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.

"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.

"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.

"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.

"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.

"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.

He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.

And soon, his view of you became sided.

"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.

"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.

"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.

"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.

Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.

"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.

"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.

"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone

The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.

"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.

"Darling! Something bad happened…"

"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.

"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.

"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.

"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.

"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.

So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.

When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.

"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.

At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.

"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"

"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.

"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.

You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.

You're also a monster.

Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.

"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.

Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.

…

It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.

She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.

"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.

"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.

"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.

Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.

Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.

The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.

"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.

"No…" you nod, confirming your words.

"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.

"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.

"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.

"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.

Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.

You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.

"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.

"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.

"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.

"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.

"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.

This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.

Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.

You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.

When you open the door of your room, there it is.

A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.

You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.

"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.

"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.

…

The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.

Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.

Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.

Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.

Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.

He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.

"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.

"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.

"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.

"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.

"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.

And it worsened when your dad interfered.

"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.

"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.

"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.

"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.

"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.

…

There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.

You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.

But none had prepared you to hide your shock.

"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.

"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."

It couldn't…

Snow walked through the tables, towards you.

No, no, no, no.

"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"

You swear you can't breathe.

You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.

"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.

Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.

"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.

Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.

Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.

He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.

"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.

You see his desperate eyes.

"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.

"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.

"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.

"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.

"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.

"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.

"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.

You slap him. And then run away to your room.

As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.

There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.

It's officially a new year.

…

Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.

You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.

"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.

'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.

"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.

"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.

He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.

"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.

And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.

"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.

"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.

"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"

And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.

"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.

"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"

Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.

"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.

As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.

…

You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.

There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.

It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.

"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.

"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.

"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.

"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.

"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.

Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…

"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.

"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.

"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.

Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.

At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.

"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.

"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.

You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.

…

Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.

Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.

You look just like your father on his wedding day.

Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.

Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.

Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.

All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.

And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.

Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…

She knew. Tigris had to know everything.

Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.

That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.

He's a broken man.

But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.

…

There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.

You looked like a Capitol's bride.

And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.

As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.

Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.

"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.

They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.

"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.

"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.

She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.

"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.

Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.

"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.

"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.

"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.

"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.

"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.

"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.

Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.

"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.

"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.

…

The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.

Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.

For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.

He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?

Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?

Would you forgive him if that was the case?

You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.

You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.

You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.

And you can't turn to see him.

There are many people taking pictures of you and him.

Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.

When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.

"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.

It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.

You just see him and you realize he's your man now.

Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.

In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.

You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.

…

The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.

Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.

For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.

There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.

You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.

You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.

He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.

He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?

…

That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.

During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.

When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.

Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.

You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.

Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.

But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.

So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.

Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.

Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.

You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.

"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.

Then you lean, inches away from his lips.

" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.

He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.

You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…

It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.

Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.

Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.

And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.

All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.

And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.

Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.

Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.

…

At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.

Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.

The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.

You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.

Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.

Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.

"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.

He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.

You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.

"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.

He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.

Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.

He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.

"Thank you." You say to him.

"Of course."

After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.

When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.

He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.

He calls your name but you don't respond.

Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.

A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.

He runs and kneels beside you.

"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.

"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.

He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.

"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.

He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.

"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.

"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.

There's chaos on the streets.

And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.

"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.

A woman listens and calls for a man.

"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.

"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.

It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.

…

It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.

"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.

"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.

The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.

"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.

He kisses your forehead.

"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.

And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.

"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.

"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.

…

You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.

As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.

You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.

"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.

"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.

"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.

"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.

Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.

And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.

He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.

Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.

Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.

But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.

"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.

"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.

He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.

He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.

Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.

He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.

"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.

You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.

"I love you."

You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.

He's still smiling.

You know he killed two people, probably three.

You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.

You know he's not the best person.

You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.

You know he caused you so much pain.

And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.

"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.

"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.

"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.

"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.

"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.

"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.

"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.

"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.

"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.

"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.

"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.

He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.

And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.

And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.

Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.

…

The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.

You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.

"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.

And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.

"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.

"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.

"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.

"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.

"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.

"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.

Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.

You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.

Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.

Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.

Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.

I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.

You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.

Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.

And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.

So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.

There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.

When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.

The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.

Until you see what it is.

"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.

"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask

"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.

"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.

"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.

"They deserve this."

"You're right"

He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.

"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.

"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.

"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"

"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.

"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.

"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.

"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.

He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.

…

It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.

"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.

He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.

There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.

"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.

"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.

"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.

"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.

"Me neither…"

___________________________

Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed

In my head… this was the wedding dress<3

[littlelamy]

beach fun with sarah

sarah c x female reader - insipred by this post by the amazing @nemesyaaa <3

The night air felt cool against your heated skin, but the warmth radiating from Sarah was intoxicating. You both lay there, bodies intertwined in the soft sand, the sound of the waves a calming backdrop to the electric tension still lingering in the air.

“What do you think everyone’s doing?” you asked, your voice low, not wanting to break the spell of intimacy that surrounded you.

“Probably wondering where we went,” Sarah said with a laugh, her fingers still dancing across your skin. “But I really don’t care right now.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, feeling completely lost in the moment.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you leaned in closer, whispering, “You know, I didn’t expect this when I came to the beach tonight.”

Sarah chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. “What did you expect? Just another bonfire with friends?”

“Honestly, yeah,” you replied with a grin.

“Well, sometimes the best moments happen when you least expect them,” she said, her gaze serious.

You nodded, appreciating the weight of her words. “I’m really glad we ended up here,” you confessed, your heart racing.

“Me too,” she replied, leaning in to steal another kiss. This one was softer, slower, filled with the warmth of shared secrets and promises. You melted into it, feeling the world around you fade away.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the warmth pooling in your core again, desire flaring back to life. “Sarah,” you whispered against her lips, your heart pounding in your chest.

She pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “What do you want?”

With a smirk, you reached down and tugged at the hem of your tiny tank top, pulling it up to expose your bare chest to her gaze. “I want you,” you said, your voice low and sultry, filled with confidence.

Her eyes widened slightly, and a smile broke out on her face. “God, you’re stunning,” she breathed, her voice thick with lust. The way she looked at you sent a thrill through your body, igniting a fire of desire that burned brightly.

“Touch me,” you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing as you watched her reaction.

With deliberate slowness, Sarah reached out, her fingers brushing against your bare tits. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you gasped, arching into her hand. She explored your chest, her fingertips dancing over your sensitive nipples, teasing them lightly.

“Like this?” she asked, her voice low, and the mischief in her eyes sent another wave of heat through you.

“Yes, just like that,” you breathed, craving her touch.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your nipples as she continued to tease you with her fingers. The sensations were overwhelming, and you could feel the tension building again, every flick and pull of her fingers sending you higher.

“You’re so responsive,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s driving me wild.”

“Good,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips, feeling the rush of desire washing over you.

With a sudden rush of boldness, she pulled down your tiny tank top further, exposing more of your skin to her eager gaze. “Damn, you’re perfect,” she said, her eyes roaming over you with unrestrained hunger.

“Sarah,” you gasped, feeling vulnerable yet empowered under her gaze.

“Just relax,” she whispered, leaning in to press soft kisses along your collarbone and down to your chest, each touch igniting every nerve ending in your body. You felt a thrill rush through you, your breath hitching at the intimacy of her touch as she kissed lower, trailing her lips across your skin.

“God, you feel so good,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire as she captured your nipple between her lips again, sucking gently. The sensations danced through you, pushing you toward the edge, and your body instinctively responded, arching toward her.

As her mouth worked magic on you, you felt her hand sliding down your body, her fingers brushing against your stomach, drawing nearer to the heat pooling between your legs. A shiver ran through you as she continued her teasing journey down, her touch feather-light, sending your heart racing.

“Sarah,” you gasped, the anticipation building as she neared your core. “Please.”

“Please what?” she teased, her lips pulling away momentarily to look you in the eye, her voice low and sultry.

“Touch me,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation. You could see the desire swirling in her eyes, her expression a mix of mischief and longing.

“Whatever you want,” she said with a wicked smile, her fingers finally finding their way to the hem of your shorts. With a swift motion, she pulled them down, exposing you completely to her gaze.

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling with hunger. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Heat flooded your cheeks at her words, but the embarrassment quickly melted away as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your inner thighs, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you. “You like that?” she asked, looking up at you with a devilish grin.

“Yes, more,” you urged, your body begging for her touch.

She wasted no time, her mouth pressing kisses along your thighs before her fingers began to explore. Slowly, she slid one finger between your folds, her touch teasing and light, building the tension inside you. You gasped, your body instinctively responding, craving more.

“God, you’re so wet,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin as she added another finger, pushing deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of her fingers inside you and the heat of her mouth trailing down your thighs making you dizzy with pleasure.

“Sarah,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you felt the pressure building inside you. “Just like that.”

She picked up the pace, her fingers working in and out of you with perfect rhythm, while her thumb brushed against your clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension rising to an unbearable level.

“Let go for me, baby,” she coaxed, her voice smooth and sultry, her eyes locked onto yours, watching the pleasure build on your face.

You felt your breath quickening, the world around you fading away as you focused solely on the sensations she was creating. “I’m so close,” you gasped, every nerve ending on fire as she continued her relentless pace, her fingers curling just right inside you.

“Come for me,” she urged, her voice thick with lust as she leaned in, capturing your lips again, swallowing your moans as the tension finally snapped.

With a cry of her name, you let go, pleasure washing over you in intense waves, your body trembling as you rode out the blissful high. Each wave of ecstasy coursed through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As you came down from the high, Sarah slowed her movements, her fingers gently withdrawing. She crawled back up beside you, her expression softening as she looked at you with a mix of affection and desire.

“Wow,” you breathed, still reeling from the intensity of what just happened.

“Yeah, wow,” she echoed, a soft smile spreading across her face. “You’re incredible.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth of her words wrapping around you like a blanket. The moonlight danced in her eyes, illuminating the spark of connection that felt stronger than ever.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling vulnerable yet empowered in her presence.

“Anytime,” she replied, brushing her fingers along your cheek, her touch tender and reassuring. “I want to explore this—us—more. Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, a rush of warmth flooding your chest at the thought. “I’d like that,” you confessed, your heart racing at the possibilities that lay ahead.

As you lay there, tangled in each other, the sounds of the beach and the distant laughter of friends faded into the background. It was just you and Sarah, the world outside forgotten, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s bodies, ready to embrace whatever came next.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

I’m kind of obsessed with the Jonmartin timeline and how Jon slowly fell in love with Martin, mostly off tape over seasons 2 and 3. I wrote a little bit of an essay trying to pinpoint the shifts and moments when we can tell something has changed. I love fanfics but I am just so interested in trying to figure out what happened in canon as close as possible. Of course this does involve speculation of emotions that we have no way of actually knowing because Jon Sims does not talk about his feelings.

Anyway it’s long-ish.

Jon fell in love with Martin over season 2 but didn’t start to realize it until late season 3 just before The Unknowing.

Martin starts the show with a crush on Jon. In MAG 22 when Martin makes his statement about the worms Jon feels guilty over how all of the pressure he’s put Martin under drives him to put himself in danger and he has Martin move into the archives to protect him which may be the first caring gesture he has made towards Martin but it’s a big one. Martin, who had a decent size crush on Jon beforehand, is blown away by this and his crush becomes a real big one.

Jon tries to continue being hard on Martin but he does noticeably soften towards him. His criticisms are half-hearted.

During Jane Prentice’s attack when Martin and Jon are in document storage Martin calls Jon out and properly snaps at him for dismissing the supernatural and Jon actually sees Martin in this moment for the first time. Martin had never talked back to him in such a way and Jon can now see him as not just his assistant who makes a lot of mistakes but as an equal who might know better than him in some aspects. They have their heart to heart and Jon is able to be honest for the first time since taking this job. He admits he’s scared and it’s okay, well it’s not okay because Jane Prentice might be moments away from killing them, but Martin doesn’t think any less of him. And then Jon asks if Martin is a ghost and he’s wrong and it was stupid but Martin makes fun of him in a way that doesn’t hurt and Jon isn’t used to that. And Martin, seeing this open and fragile and slightly dumb part of Jon, starts falling in love.

After Martin finds Gertrude’s body Jon is one track minded and focused on finding out what happened. Martin, giving his statement about the tunnels, is in tears not because he found a body and was scared, but because he accidentally left Jon. Jon was too distracted with finding answers at the moment but he heard it and absorbed it over time.

Season 2 Jon is full of nothing but paranoia and is unwilling to trust anyone but it’s his obsessive observations that lead him to getting to know Martin enough to love him. When Jon tries to come back from leave early Martin forces Jon to go home and rest more. Jon wonders what Martin is hiding but reasons that, no Martin is actually concerned about his health. Jon thinks Martin gave him a fake jar of ashes to calm him down, he doesn’t seem to think this gesture is part of a conspiracy, he genuinely thinks of this gesture as Martin lying to him to make him feel better. Jon notes that Martin has been very attentive to his needs and recovery and that he is interested to hear Jon’s theories about Gertrude. He remarks that he has observed Martin’s competence and cunning. Of course Jon is ridiculously paranoid and interprets this attention as some kind of plot against him to slow down his investigation and sees these positive attributes of Martin as reasons to see him as a threat, but again, Jon is absorbing it all. The lines in Jon’s supplementals about Martin’s attention to him implies that they’re spending a lot of time together off tape, at least more than they ever used to, probably at Martin’s insistence and Jon accepting this time by justifying to himself that he needs to watch Martin.

In MAG 53 Jon mentions that Martin hovers near him when he goes to the canteen and Martin says it’s because he’s concerned (based on Jon’s lie about how he got the cut from Michael). Martin offers to pick up a sandwich from the cafe and bring it back for Jon. He doesn’t ask Jon to come with him and Jon acts like he’s annoyed to be around Martin when he sits with him in the canteen, but Jon decides, No instead of me refusing the gesture for food or saying yes please pick up that sandwich for me, he says “I’ll come with” making another decision to spend time with Martin when he doesn’t have to. Maybe Jon tries to justify this to himself again by saying he’s keeping an eye on Martin but Jon has made no efforts to go spend extra time with Tim, who was an equal suspect, even before Tim was mad at Jon. (And may I add, if Jon tried this tactic with Tim, going out to lunch, watching him by spending time with him etc. maybe Tim wouldn’t have ended up being so angry with Jon.) But Jon is definitely making the effort to spend time with Martin when it frankly has nothing to do with his investigation no matter how he tries to spin it.

In MAG 56 when Jon makes Martin tell him what he’s been hiding and he finds out Martin had lied on his CV he is so relieved that he is giddy. He is smiling, laughing and stuttering. To Jon’s ‘rational’ mind this doesn’t fully clear Martin of suspicion but emotionally this really seems to be a weight off of his shoulders. On a subconscious level he can start to allow the time they’ve spent together to mean something other than just spying.

Meanwhile Martin can see what a hard time Jon is having and he can see him spinning out of control with paranoia and Martin tries really hard to defend him, maybe not the best thing, we know Martin is a bit of an enabler for Jon, but for Jon’s emotional arc of falling in love with Martin it is important that Jon hears Martin defending him to Tim in MAG 58. Martin never stops calling Jon out on his shit like when he tells Jon that he needs to talk to Tim and that Tim isn’t wrong but nowadays it feels like everyone is constantly calling Jon out, not that he doesn’t deserve it, but when Martin calls him out it’s still clear that he cares, whereas anyone else talking to Jon just seems to speak to him with malice.

At the beginning of season 3 Jon is hiding out and staying at Georgie’s place. We know from Season 4 MAG 149 that Jon used to go on about Martin to Georgie “a lot”. Georgie got the full story about The Archives in MAG 93 and Jon decides to move out of Georgie’s place in MAG 99 when he was then kidnapped by The Circus. There’s usually a week of time that passes between episodes unless otherwise implied and 93 and 94 take place over the same conversation on the same day so I’ll assume 5 weeks in which Jon was going on about Martin a lot with full context. He probably talked about him before then too only more cryptically. Importantly though in the Season 4 Q&A Alex asks, Who knew that Jon liked Martin first, Jon or Martin? And Jonny said “Georgie” so even though Jon didn’t know it yet, he was obviously smitten (at least obvious to Georgie who has dated Jon and recognizes signs of affection and romance in him more than anyone else would).

When Jon talks to Martin in MAG 102 there is a very slight almost imperceptible sweetness in Jon’s voice that we’ve never heard before. The way he assures Martin that it’s ok that he didn’t know he was kidnapped. There is a lot of awkwardness and frankly a lot of heavy breathing from both of them for probably just standing there. Their casual talk about the overall institute and Hannah who is having her baby and had that thing with the milk in the break room last year, Jon doesn’t know who she is but Martin knows that Jon knows her probably because they had been around her together since they spent so much time together last year but Jon was too paranoid and she had nothing to do with the plot, it’s just a very normal and domestic moment. Jon tells Martin he knows he’s been reading statements and Martin is just worried Jon will be jealous that he’s taking some of his job but instead Jon is just concerned for him. It’s different and they both know it’s different and they can both feel the conversation is charged with something but they don’t know what. “It’s not too late. Unless the world ends” means a lot in this conversation, yes it does literally mean it’s not too late for them to talk and continue whatever friendship they were stumbling towards in season 2. It’s not too late for them to pick up this weird, oddly charged and tender conversation that may be leading somewhere else. It’s also foreshadowing that it sort of is too late because their world will end when Jon effectively dies stopping the Unknowing.

By MAG 114 Jon says that he has listened to all of the tapes and has therefore heard the gossip about he and Martin. I think something clicked in his brain when he heard that Martin has a crush on him. He probably never considered that idea because things like romance are never on the forefront of his mind especially when he is in active danger, which he has been for the last 2 years, and even more so he wouldn’t expect someone to have feelings for him in general. Being conscious of the notion that Martin has feelings for him lead him to consider all of the strange feelings he’s been having about Martin over the last year and a half in a way that he might not have gotten to on his own until much later. It’s all part of the plan that Jon suggests Martin stay back at the Institute in front of Elias but Jon is genuinely relieved that Martin will be safer there.

In MAG 117 Jon talks about Daisy and Basira’s bond and how he’s been having to do everything by himself. He’s envious of their bond and we can tell he’s been thinking about how things could be if he had someone (Martin) by his side. I don’t think this part of his testament would have played out this way had he not been thinking a lot since he heard the tape. When he addresses the “office gossip” he is flustered. Possibly embarrassed that Georgie, who he trusts, was giving out this personal information to Melanie but I actually think he’s used to that specific type of gossip about him and I think that the nervous stutter and searching for words comes from trying to address the other part of the gossip, which he is still trying to wrap his head around.

It isn’t confirmed but I do think that Jon listened to everyone’s testimony before leaving and he heard Martin’s “I need him to be ok”. Later in MAG 139 Jon says “I need him to be okay. I just do.” I don’t think he’s consciously repeating the same phrase but I think this phrase has lived with him ever since he heard Martin say it and now it’s just organic to Jon too.

I genuinely do believe that at this point, as of MAG 117, all of Jon’s feelings for Martin are already there and internally he has at least accepted romantic feelings even if he wouldn’t have called it love then.

Jon is put in a 6 month coma the next night and is in a full tilt romantic arc the moment he wakes up. Not 20 minutes after waking from his coma he wants to see Martin, he’s surprised that Martin wasn’t there for him the moment he woke up. Maybe if you asked him the next day he’d say it was a silly notion for him to just expect Martin to be there at any given point no matter when he woke up, but a part of him accepted and knew that if Martin could have he would have been there.

Anyway, all this is to say that if he woke up from a coma desperately in love with Martin all of those feelings had to have been present before the coma. I know there was a lot more thought and consideration and emotional work that Jon had to do over season 4 before he could have been ready for his love to literally save Martin but all of the feelings were there by the time he woke up.

[strawberrychampayne]

baby, i was that oblivious…

bradley bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings: none, like one swear word lol

word count: 1205

summary: oblivious!bradley x affectionate!reader!! after realizing his mistake rooster races to try and undo damage he didn't even know he was creating. will he be able too?

Rooster's heart was beating out of his chest as he rushed to his bronco. He could feel his breathing getting heavier as he felt around his jeans for his keys. Why couldn’t he find them? After feeling the same pocket five times he heard the jingle of his keychain and pulled them out. Rooster turned the key in the driver's side door and threw the door open. Slowly at least, this truck was his second love, right after her. Groaning, he threw his head back and stopped for a second to catch his breath in his car. He put the key into the ignition and his engine roared to life. Putting his truck in drive he peeled out of the parking lot and began to race to Y/N’s house. 

Rooster felt like his mind was going one hundred miles a minute. Would Magnet even forgive him? What if she just ignored his explanation? What if she never wanted to talk to him again? No. Magnet wasn’t like that. She got upset with people in the dagger squad before and still made up with them the next day. She would forgive him, right?

Bradley decided to make a quick stop at the store to grab some flowers. He would’ve preferred to have gone to a florist but it was 10 pm and nobody was open. So begrudgingly he grabbed the keys out of the ignition and the rumbling of his truck stopped. Taking a deep breath he thought back to something Y/N had said. 

“I’m just saying what kind of man doesn’t get a girl flowers, Hangman?” Y/N questioned

“The kind that doesn’t care about his lady, Mag. That’s who.” Rooster replied, from behind her. 

“Uh huh, and what kind of flowers have you gotten Roo?” she said, her eyebrow raising.

“I don’t go on many dates but the ones I have gone on I got them based on personality from said girl.” Rooster shot back.

“Personality? Well Roos, what kind of flower would you get me?” Y/N said. 

“Well Mag, you seem like a daffodil kinda girl, so daffodils.” Rooster replied, coolly. 

“Tulips. I like tulips, Rooster. So close and yet so far, huh?” Y/N said with a small smile on her face. 

“As much as I’d love to sit here and talk flowers with you two, I have a date tonight to make up for my last one and I need help.” Hangman butted in. 

Thinking back Rooster began to smile. His girl was like a flower. Beautiful and full of life but delicate. It felt as though he was ripping her petals off at this point. Rushing past many people he made it to the flowers. While scanning the selection his attention was caught by bright pink tulips. Coincidentally near the daffodils. Grabbing the tulips that were wrapped in brown paper that felt almost like a paper bag he all but ran to the checkout line. Swiping his card he grabbed his bag, thanked the cashier kindly and zipped out the door. He walked back to his truck and clambered inside. Turning the key in the engine once again he pulled out of the second parking lot of the night, except this time he was slower. This was the main road after all. 

After driving for 10 minutes he pulled up to her house. He felt his heart rate rising as he pulled to a stop in front of her driveway. He knew she had come home based on the lights that were on in the living room and bedroom. 

He remembers helping her move into this house. She wouldn’t let him carry up a bed until she almost fell down the stairs and he caught her. He carried all the furniture up the stairs after that. 

‘

Rooster pulled his visor down and checked to see how he looked. Did he always look stressed out? Fixing his messy hair and straightening out his tropical attire, he took a deep breath and stepped out of his car. 

He practiced what he was going to say all the way up to her door. He felt like he was shaking as he reached up to knock three times on her door. He waited a moment trying to hear any movement in the house. After waiting for two minutes, he counted anxiously in his head, and he knocked again. Then he heard the shuffling over feet as they ascended the stairs and stood behind the door. 

“Go away. I don’t want to see anyone, Nat.” Y/N said her voice was croaky. He could hear her pacing slightly near the door.  

“Um, it’s not Nat. It's a Rooster.” Rooster replied. 

The pacing behind the door stopped suddenly. He could hear a groan before the door opened quickly. 

“I really don’t want to do this right now, Bradley. I told you I wasn’t feeling well.” she said quietly. Going to shut the door, it was stopped by Rooster's foot. She felt a rush of emotions hit her. 

“I know but I also realized I was a complete dick tonight. I didn’t realize what you were insinuating. Please just let me talk to you.” Rooster said, his voice low. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Bradley. I have been trying everything in my power to get you to notice me. I took so much courage to be able to even ask you that. I understand that you are not required to like me back but I am allowed to be hurt I feel.” she said as tears began to stream down her face again. 

Rooster felt his heart start to break. He was at a loss for words as he watched her shoulders slump and her lip quiver. Seconds felt like hours as he tried to rack his brain for something to say. Did he apologize again or try to explain? Unfortunately for him you began to speak again.

“I don’t know if you were just oblivious to what I-”

“Yes! Y/N, baby I was that oblivious but I’m not anymore. I just want to make this all up to you.” Rooster cut her off. “And I’m so sorry for making you cry and feel like I didn’t like you back but I promise I want to make this up to you. Please.” 

“I just can’t, Bradley. You have to go. I will see you at work tomorrow.” she said, tears still falling. 

“No, sweetheart please I just want to fix this” he rushed out

“The best thing you can do is leave. I said I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Bradley.” she said before sliding his foot out of the way and shutting the door. 

“I’ll just leave these here and see you tomorrow, Mag. Um, goodnight.” Rooster said, getting no reply. 

Rooster made a vow right there that he would do whatever he could to win her back. She could say run laps and he’d ask how many? His body felt tense as he walked back to his bronco. He quietly pulled out his keys and pulled away from her house. The drive back home was quiet as he planned to do something, anything, to win his Magnet back.

taglist:

@missmarveledsblog @tianna8320

so here's part 2! I was originally going to only do 2 parts but felt like it would be so rushed so here's a little angst. please let me know your thoughts! stay hydrated, stay healthy, stay perfect! - strawberry🍓

part 3:

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 8

part 1 | part 7 | ao3

He finds himself on Cherry Drive by muscle memory alone. Quarter mile past Maple Street, take the third left, the second right; drive straight through the next stop sign and suddenly the Hagan house is coming into view around the bend, bathed in dim yellow light from a flickering street lamp. A 50s era ranch house, painted brick with a detached one-car garage, weeds sprouting through the crooked old stones of the front walkway and leaves scattered across the lawn in mushy browns and orange-reds.

It's not as nice as Steve's place is.

Was.

Whatever.

Steve blinks, shakes himself fully awake; feels a jolt of fear at the idea that he just drove here in some kind of fugue state because he doesn't know what he's doing here. Tommy left for college, and fuck Tommy, anyway.

He pulls up to the house. Slows the car to a crawl.

It's dark inside, all the lights turned off except for a single table lamp in the entryway window; shaped like a sea turtle, its belly full of blue-green light. Mrs. H. loves the sea.

He wonders if they're out of town or if they're just asleep.

The Hagans go to bed early, he remembers. He spent so many nights talking in a hush in Tommy's room; 8:45pm and they'd be lying side by side on the floor beside his bed, reading comic books or sports mags and whispering about nothing. Tommy'd always thank Steve for coming over because he knew his house was a little boring; he was the kid with old parents who went to bed early and kept the radio turned down and wouldn't let them have sugary snacks even on the weekends. Steve would always just knock their shoulders together and smile 'don't mention it' because he'd hang out with Tommy anywhere.

"Anywhere?" "Yeah, anywhere." "What about in a cave?" "Sure." "Under a bridge?" "Don't see why not." "In the belly of a whale?" "Now you're just being dumb." "Am not!" "Are, too." "Oh, yeah? Well- shut up!"

That was usually the part where they got in trouble for making noise, caught red-faced and laughing while they wrestled on the floor.

There's warmth in his chest at the memory, and that part, he expects.

But also...

Something about it makes heat flare in his gut, shameful and feverish as it flashes through his mind: the phantom press of Tommy above him as he pinned his shoulders down; the way the flush on his cheeks made Tommy's freckles pop; the breathless smile he gave, so close their noses almost brushed...

A light turns turns on in the Hagans' hall.

Steve hits the gas.

He drives for a long while, feeling like an asshole for burning through their precious gas money, but too— too something to fully care. He's alone on a highway with dark pastures blowing by, with the heat on and windows down, and he's circling back toward home when Bruce Springsteen starts to play, all croaky static over the spotty radio.

Born down in a dead man's town. The first kick I took was when I hit the ground.

Steve cranks it up and sings along. The song is cheesy, and he feels stupid, but he also feels free. Like there was a shackle around his throat and he didn't notice until it was gone. He shouts along to the chorus and then just shouts in general; long, guttural screams that feel like poison being purged. Tommy, his dad, the Russians, his mom. All of it, all of it spewing out of him into the cold night air.

He misses Carol suddenly. Her acidic attitude. The way it always ate through the worst of his sullen moods.

He can picture her now: perched on someone's lap in the crowded backseat, no seatbelt, manicured hand braced on the ceiling. She'd be smacking bubblegum and twirling a lock of her hair, and she'd roll her eyes at Steve's dramatics and ask whether he was done untwisting his panties yet. Steve would say something dumb and pervy in response, like, "Too busy dealing with girls' panties to focus on my own," and she'd roll her eyes harder and go, "God, you're fucking gross."

Carol's not here, though, so he just screams about her, too.

When he get back to Forest Hills his voice is hoarse. His body is tired; his soul is light. He's thinking, like: maybe he'll be okay. He'll channel his inner Claudia or Joyce and soldier on. Resilience, and all that shit.

He's almost smiling to himself when he turns into the park.

And then he sees the flashing lights.

There's an ambulance on his lot.

—

part 9

just gonna start tagging whoever commented the day before (if your settings will let me) bc i have the memory of a goldfish @a-little-unsteddie @slowandsteddie @pennyplainknits @thesuninyaface @hotluncheddie @messrs-weasley @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman @i-have-three-feelings @sirsnacksalot @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium

[shojizbae]

JJ Dating a Kook

JJ picked up a job caddying at a golf course

He makes good tips for the first two months

One day he is assigned to a caddy for a mother, father and daughter

He expects some rich little 9 year old with her head up her ass

Enter you, beautiful, graceful, kind, and damn good at golf

He blushes (for the first time since he was 12 and found his dads nudie mag) when you accidentally brush his knuckles when he hands you your nine iron

Your dad, who’s the typical rich overprotective Kook dad, noticed this and tries to stiff him on a his tip

You noice that he only hands him a 50 for putting up with your parents nonsense for four hours

You point out one of your dads work buddies and your parents drift over to chit chat

You grab your dads wallet and pull a handful of twenties and shout that you need the rest room before you leave

You run over to JJ where he’s parking the golf cart he’d just driven y’all around on when you approach him

He jumps up and removes the course company hat to greet you

“My dad’s an asshole, here’s the rest of your tip.” You hand him the hand and he numbly receives it

“Thanks,” he chuckles and puts his hat back in his head. When he gets home and counts it he realizes that you had tipped him $240

“I feel like I’ve seen you at a bonfire,” he looks up for the wad that he was trying g to approximate

“Yeah, I go to most of them,” he takes his eyes down to the salmon skort you were wearing, it matched your hat

“I hope I’ll see you at the one this Saturday,” you giggle and skip away leaving him stunned

He does see you that Saturday. You were standing my the fire in black sweatpants and a royal blue bikini top. arms crossed with a red solo cup loosely held in your fingers

The fire made you look so radiant

He down the rest of his PBR and grabbed two more. The lion enters the den.

“Whatever that is looks like shit,” he hands you one of the beers he’s holding.

“Kinda” you throw back the final swig and toss the cup into the flames. You receive the glass bottle with half smile and look back into the fire to watch the cup melt “Thanks JJ”

His heart sings you remembered him!

You going golfing again soon?” It’s the only thing you two have in common so far

“No, I don’t get out often. My parents don’t want me out of the house without supervision. They have no idea I’m here, think I’m at the gym.”

“At,” he checks his phone “11:40?”

“Yeah,” you bite the cap of your beer off and spit it away from JJ “they’re kinda naive”

You spend the rest of the night huddled up to his furnace like body cracking jokes about pogues and kooks alike

Surprisingly you’re back at the golf course 3 days later. This time donning a shorter navy blue skort and a gray polo. You request explicitly for Jj to be your caddy

You had convinced your dad to let you go alone.

You flirt with him the whole time he’s driving you around the course. Purposefully grabbing his hand when he hands you a club. Resting your hand on his thigh as he drives. Readjusting the company hat he’s wearing. He may have cute hair but he can’t hide his cute face with it.

When you're in a secluded part of the course, you make out against the golf cart for a few minutes. Having accidentally hit into some surrounding woods

[bullet-prooflove]

Revelations: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

Safe - You and Gibbs work through your grief in different ways.

Check In - Gibbs checks in with you after the night before.

Wait It Out - You and Gibbs wait out a threat to your saftey.

Right Here - You come home to find Gibbs waiting for you on your doorstep.

Gibbs wakes up to the scent of coffee and lemons, it floods his senses as he jolts awake on a couch that is far too small for his stature. There’s a pounding in his temples, an ache in his lower back and a dryness in his mouth that he’s not experienced for a while, not since the early days of his retirement from the Marines.

“Up and at ‘em sunbeam.” You boom as you set a mug down on the driftwood coffee table beside him. “You have an hour before you need to be in work and you stink like a distillery.”

It takes him a minute to detangle himself from the soft, grey blanket. He has a fleeting memory of it being draped across his body as he sank into the depths of the couch, your hair falling across his face as you tucked it in around him. He remembers reaching out to brush a stray back behind your ear as he looked up at you and you’d given him that smile, the one that made him want to kiss you.

He winces as he shifts into a sitting position, his head spinning for a second. He runs his hand over his weary features as you step back into the living room, his gear bag clasped between your hands before you deposit it on the armchair you were sitting in last night.

“Sorry.” He finds himself saying although it seems inadequate in reflection considering he turned up on your doorstep drunk last night.

“Don’t be.” You say unzipping his bag and searching through it. “It’s nice not to be the fucked up one for a change.”

It wounds him a little that you see yourself like that. He thinks you’re strong, brave, fierce. Grief has a way of eating you up, consuming you and despite that you’re still here, putting one foot in front of the other, day after day.

“I have to leave in a minute, I’m in court all day testifying in the Reynolds case but use the shower to clean yourself up.” You tell him, tugging a clean shirt out of his bag and laying it over the back of the armchair so it doesn’t crease. “The door locks automatically on the way out, just make sure you shut it behind you.”

And with that you’re on your way out, leaving him alone in your house.

If that isn’t trust he doesn’t know what is.

The silence is deafening after he listens to your car drive away. It’s his first time in your home, it’s feels bright, airy. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with titles he doesn’t recognise. You seem to swing between genres. His cheeks colour as he observes some of the more risqué ones. A marine buddy of his had a theory once that men buy porn mags because they need the visualisation while women prefer to read it. Gibbs would say it was an astute assumption from the look of the glossy black titles on the bottom shelf.

He picks up his coffee cup as he raises to his feet, drawn to the pictures resting upon the mantlepiece. You look a lot like your sister, same hair colour, same eyes. The smile though that’s different, hers is vivacious while yours is always seems tempered. That’s what comes of being the oldest sibling he thinks, that responsibility had weighed on you even then.

His eyes come to rest on another image, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown. There’s a face there, one he doesn’t expect. His gaze lingers on the banner strung up in the background before it darts to man sitting beside Violet, his arm draped around her shoulders, his lips brushing over her temple.

It’s an engagement party.

One for Mike Franks and Violet.

In the shower he replays ever single interaction he’s experienced between the two of you as he uses your shower gel to rinse the stench of whiskey from his skin. He didn’t see it at the time, he was too busy trying to keep his head above water in his new role. The fact that Mike never goes down to the morgue when you’re on shift, he sends Randy or Gibbs or Lala. The wide berth he gives you at crime scenes, the exchange of curt nods and abrupt greetings. He sees it for what it is now, purposeful distance. Being in proximity to each other, it means sharing a tragedy and that’s not something that either one of you wants to re-live.

When he gets into the office, he can’t stop thinking about it. The scent of you clings to his skin from the shower gel and it’s maddening because all he wants to do is bury himself in his work and forget he ever learned about your connection to Mike Franks but it’s damn near impossible.

He watches the other man, his feet resting on his desk as he flicks through the blue folder in his hands, his forehead creased as he studies the information. He must feel Gibb’s eyes on him because his gaze flickers up, those dark eyes boring into his.

“Got a problem Probie?” He asks and Gibbs shakes his head, his thoughts drifting back to that picture on your mantlepiece.

“No problem.” He states returning his attention to the file in his hands. Violet’s file. The one that contains all documentation of her case. “No problem at all.”

Love Gibbs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[fox-guardian]

it will never not fuck me up that what happened to Danny stoker is never. NEVER. referred to as a death.

[ID: A section of the MAG 104 transcript reading: "[Bitterly] Statement of Timothy Stoker, on the disappearance of… of my brother, Danny, four years ago. June 14th, 2017." end id]

Tim's statement was about his disappearance, not his death.

[ID: Two sections of TMA transcripts. The first is from MAG 104 reading: "let me tell you what. If you want me to ignore everything that’s going on, forget my brother and everything that’s happened over" and the second is from MAG 119 reading: "NIKOLA: Once. A long time ago, before Orsinov made me. And sometimes, even now, for special occasions. Like your brother. [distorted] SHALL I?" end ID]

Tim asks Elias if he wants him to forget "his brother". Nikola says she still goes as Grimaldi for special occasions, "like your brother". Never once during his statement does Tim mention Danny dying. No one ever calls it a death. For Tim, you could say it was denial, or at least say that he couldn't bear to speak it out loud. For Nikola, you could just say that's just how she talks.

But then there's the fact that Nikola had said this to Jon in ep 101

[ID: A section of the MAG 101 transcript reading: "ORSINOV: Oh, don’t worry, it’s not for you. You won’t even need a coffin – we’re going to use every piece of you." end ID]

she was going to skin him, but would still find a use for the rest of him. presumably, she treats most, if not all of her other victims this way. but what, praytell, could that use possibly be?

perhaps mr archive man has an answer for us

[ID: A section of the MAG 118 transcript reading: "fill with waxworks. And I guess you don’t need skin to sing. (shaky breath) To join the choir." end ID]

HMMMM GOLLY GEE BATMAN I WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO DANNY

ANYWAY with all this together it is going to Drive Me To The Brink Of Madness that it's implied that Danny, in some form or another, was still Alive at the unknowing. he didn't die that wednesday night in august when Tim had last seen him, oh no. he was still alive.

likely all the way up until the unknowing.

until Tim.... i shan't say

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 26

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A second chapter today as promised

Content Warnings - injury, surgery, mention of psych eval

An hour feels like forever as you watch the one you love slowly fade away. You’re passed out again by the time Peeta returns with a medic.

“I could only find one,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “There were a lot of injuries due to the bombs.”

The medic kneels down to take a look at you. Your blood was still black, worrying the entire group.

“Please,” Finnick pleads. “You have to help her.”

“There aren’t enough of us right now to handle this,” the medic shakes their head. “Half of our unit died to the bombs this morning.”

“Can you radio for someone? Anyone?” Finnick asks.

The medic was able to call for an armored vehicle to come pick you up. They didn’t have any medical supplies but they could drive you to the hospital.

Finnick holds your limp hand the whole way, refusing to let you leave him.

It’s been 12 hours with no news. The doctors immediately rushed you into surgery when you arrived, not even letting Finnick come with you.

Finnick sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital. Peeta had been taken in for a psych eval and Katniss was in the ICU. Boggs was dead, the Leegs were dead, Prim was dead… (Gale was unfortunately not dead)

A gloomy aura hung over the capital that day. The rebels had won but at a high cost. Finnick didn’t know what he would do with himself if you didn’t make it.

“Finnick,” someone states as they nudge his shoulder. The blond looks up to see Johanna in front of him.

“Jo…” he replies. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened…,” she starts. “I needed to be here. They flew me out from thirteen.”

“Thank you,” Finnick hums as his friend sits beside him.

The two of them sit in silence for hours, Finnick periodically dozing off in his chair.

Johanna nudges him awake when the doctor comes out.

“She made it through surgery,” the doctor states, causing the victors to let out a sigh of relief. “She’s in a medically induced coma for the time being. She’ll need to have another operation in a week to remove the mass in her brain.”

“What mass?” Finnick asks.

“The timer…” Johanna mutters.

“We don’t know exactly what it is,” the doctor explains. “We do, however, believe that it’s the cause of her sudden illness. The doctors are in contact with Mr. Latier to devise a safe plan of removal.”

“Can we see her?” Finnick asks.

“I’m afraid she’s in a quarantine until her immune system rebuilds strength,” the doctor responds. “We need to check you for injuries but after I can set up some chairs outside her room for you.”

Physically, Finnick was fine. The doctors gave him some fluids and treated some cuts but released him soon after.

He wanted to help you in any way he could. The hospital was running short on blood so he donated some. Unfortunately it couldn’t go to you but Johanna’s blood was able to.

The doctors did a full body scan on Johanna and determined she was clear of any capital additions, meaning she could donate blood and tissue to you. She spent every moment with Finnick, only leaving to grab him some food.

Mags and Annie called daily from 13 but weren’t able to come to the capital yet. District 13 was working on assigning the victors places to stay in the capital until Snow’s execution but they weren’t ready. There was still a lot of cleanup to do.

Beetee flew in two days before your scheduled surgery. He showed Finnick and Johanna the brain scans and explained in technical terms how they were going to extract it without triggering any reactions.

“My hacking abilities allowed me to gain access to the experiment database of the capital’s military lab,” he explains. “A similar experiment was done on some rats around 60 years ago. Luckily we do not believe removing it will cause any further damage to her system.”

“What was it designed to do?” Johanna asks.

“I believe the experiment was designed to trigger a rabies-like reaction in the subject; resulting in their death. However, I hypothesize that the process did not complete itself in her due to the amount of blood she lost. The reaction is transported via the bloodstream so it ceased when there wasn’t enough blood left to continue it,” he explains. “She’s lucky she got here when she did. The doctors told me they’ve never seen someone that low on blood survive for that long. I’m optimistic that once we gain access to the medical equipment in the military hospital she will heal fairly quickly.”

“Thank you,” Finnick responds.

“We’re victors,” Beetee states. “We look out for each other.”

Taglist:

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*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

candy girl 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

You sit on Magni’s bed, your back to the wall as the noise of an engine revving comes from the sound bar vibrating under the large television at the other end of the room. He hunches over the controller as he races his digitized foes and you try to see the race around him. You’re dead board and all that grease is making you sleepy. 

You yawn and check the time, looking for some segue to get out of there. He swears at the screen and throws the controller, giving you a start. He’s so wrapped up in that game, he might not even notice if you just left. 

“Woah, Mag, it’s just a game,” you sit forward with a nervous giggle and eyes the screen, “second isn’t too bad.” 

“Second won’t get me the trophy,” he sneers. 

You get on your knees and crawl across the bed, reaching for him. As you touch his shoulder, he stands kicks the rolling chair by his gaming desk. You wince and sit back on your heels. 

“Mag, chill out,” you whine. 

“Don’t tell me to fu--” 

“Getting late,” Mr. Odinson’s voice cuts through his son’s as he pushes the door fully ajar. You made sure to keep it halfway open.  

“Uh, yeah,” you turn and bounce across the bed, thankful for the interruption. When Magni gets like this, he’s scary. And for what? Some Forza? “I should head out.” 

“Mm, driving home in the dark isn’t very safe,” Mr. Odinson comments, “you don’t have to go.” 

You flick your lashes and give a strained smile, glancing over at Magni. You’re definitely not bold enough to stay the night with his father there. You search around and grab your bag from where it hangs from a dresser knob. 

“Really, I should just head out,” you insist, “you two, enjoy the leftovers.” 

“Well, er, I made up the couch in case...” Mr. Odinson begins and shrugs with one arm, “I just thought, well, you’ve worked all day and--” 

“God, dad, you’re lame,” Magni puffs, “she can just stay in here.” 

You yawn and your hips ache. You can feel a day of driving throbbing at the base of your spine. You don’t really want to make the thirty-minute drive home. The couch is a happy medium. 

“Really, thanks, .” you stammer, “if you don’t mind, I will crash on the couch. Gotta be out early though.” 

“Great,” he drops his hand, “you know where everything is.” 

“Dad,” Magni groans, “why are you even here?” 

“Love you too, son,” Mr. Odinson scoffs. 

“Um, I’m tired, so I’ll...” you look around, “I’ll lay down. Night, Mag.” You cross the room to offer him a kiss and he rolls his eyes. He leans down and you peck his cheek, turning back as Mr. Odinson looks conveniently at the floor. “Alright, uh, good night then.” 

You go out into the hall as Magni grumbles and you hear the noise of him exiting the end screen to start another race. He hardly seems to care about anything beyond his X Box. You trod down to the front room and see the couch neatly made up with a sheet across the cushions, two pillows, and a quilt.  

“Wow, thanks,” you say as you put your purse on the end table, “awesome, Mr. Odinson.” 

You pull back the blanket and sit, still in your uniform, and stretch your neck. You look at Mr. Odinson as he watches you and give a sheepish grin. Is he expecting something? 

“Um, right,” he claps his hands, “I was going to offer, if you needed, something to sleep in? I think one of my shirts might fit.” 

You look down at yourself then at him. You shrug. Probably. He is a pretty big guy. 

“If you don’t mind, but I can manage,” you assure him. 

“Not at all,” he assures and trots off. 

You stand as he leaves the room and take off your belt, easing the pressure around your middle. You’re stiff all over. You fish your phone out of your bag and check the time. The battery is about to die. You find your charge and bend over the side of the couch to reach the plug behind the end table. You groan and strain until you manage to hook the prongs into the socket. 

You stand and brace your lower back. As you turn around, Mr. Odinson is right there. You wince and let out a strange hiccup in surprise. 

“Oh, I didn’t hear you,” you trill, “thanks, Mr. Odinson.” 

You take the shirt as he offers it. 

“You know you can call me Thor,” he intones, “you’ve been around long enough.” 

“I know, it’s... habit, I guess,” you clutch the shirt to your stomach.  

“I’ll, er, leave you to it then,” he backs up, “you know where to find me if you need anything.” 

“Sure,” you smile and sit down again, stifling another yawn as you tuck your chin down. 

“Good night, little one,” he drawls and slowly stalks off, his footsteps creaking down the hardwood. 

You wait until you can’t hear him then unfold the shirt. It’s a light weight fabric with a logo on the left side of the chest. Probably one of many. Usually, when you come around, he’s on his way to some gym session or he’s in the basement beating the boxing bag. At his age, he’s a lot more active than you or your peers.  

You peel off your uniform shirt and groan as you unhook your bra. Your chest drops heavy and your massage it for a moment. You pull on the fresh shirt and undo the button of your fly, letting out a sigh. Much better. 

You reach behind you and shut off the lamp, the house growing dark. You lay down and let yourself deflate. Oh, that’s a nice couch. It’s even better than your bed at home. Everything about the Odinsons’ is nicer; quieter, too. 

You jostle onto your side and nestle into the cushions, tucking a hand under the pillows. The stretch in your back muscles feels nice as you bend your legs, one hip popped up as you poke a knee out from under the blanket. 

Your eyes close and you welcome the scratchy fatigue that makes your lashes cling. Sleep always comes easily. You’re usually too tired to think and your dreams unfurl in a surreal repetition of reality. You can hear yourself snoring but don’t rouse at the low rumbling. 

It isn’t until the pressure settles in your bladder that your eyes open. You’re on your back, the weight of your chest throbbing in your spine. Oof, you don’t usually sleep like that. You pull down your shirt as it’s ridden up your stomach and the blanket pools around your feet, messed in your deep slumber. 

You push yourself up and stagger to your feet. You rub your eyes as you come down the hall, the darkness pulsing around you. You look up as you hear the hardwood creak but find the space empty. You near the bathroom and drag your feet inside. 

You close the door and tend to your full bladder. As you come back out, you’re hardly more awake. You hear snoring coming from Magni’s room. It must be pretty late if he’s asleep. 

A light flicks on, nearly blinding you. You blink over at the open archway into the kitchen. Mr. Odinson’s naked back faces you as he pushes a glass against the fridge filter and the water flows out.  

His back is thickly muscled above the waistband of his grey pajamas and a little bit of extra doughiness bulges over the sides. His arms are corded and rounded with strength and his grey hair fans over his broad shoulders. He hardly seems small before the fridge as he leans and drinks the water thirstily. 

You tear your intrusive gaze away and head back to the living room. You pull the quilt up as you recline, your pulse thumping behind your ears. You don’t know why. That moment just felt strange. Like you shouldn’t have seen him. 

You close your eyes and hum, rolling onto your side once more. The floor creaks and you open your eyes. You yelp as a shadow stands in the doorway. The light flicks on in the hall and Thor stands in its sheen, giving a toothy grin. 

“Didn’t mean to frighten,” he still has the glass in hand, “came down to get water and was just checking in.” 

“Mm, okay, thanks,” you utter and hug the blanket around, “just surprised me is all.” 

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “sleep tight, little one.” 

He flips the light off again and you listen to his departure, his feet taking each step decisively. Your adrenaline continues to flow through you. Or maybe you ate too many garlic knots. 

[kneelingshadowsalome]

We know Konig is more soft on women, but is it all women in general? For example, if some girl was hitting on him, would he be rough with her? Would he ever kill a woman? (if he's on the battlefield - I'm guessing he would if he had to). Is he chivalrous to all women or just his partner?

Yes, König is absolutely super soft to all women in general 🌸

The thing is, women are an exception, a beautiful, pure anomaly in König's worldview. He both worships them and views them as fragile. Women need to be protected from all harm. And at the same time... König goes feral every time he gets to taste and touch and fu–ahem, make love to a woman.

CW: Toxic!König. Sexism. Mentions of canon-typical violence and PTSD. Freudian madness.

Something just snaps, and he doesn't want to hurt his Engel... but he's a bit ADHD, and far too needy, goes a bit crazy every time he sees her. Women's soft skin and plump breasts and hot, wet, silky folds drive him insane. He just wants to drown himself in a woman, hide somewhere deep, somewhere safe, but can't because he's so big and has to act all tough. If he could, if only he was allowed, he would fall asleep every night with his cock buried inside that beautiful, warm, velvet softness.

So König's deeply embedded insecurity and attempts to seek safety are a combination that make him a little unhinged when it comes to women. That's why he can never get enough 😔 Also this man's horrible childhood has made him an adrenaline addict. Chaos is what he's used to, it feels familiar, so there's a risk that König might never settle into safety even if he finds it. He needs a high (which means he needs to kill and he needs sex.)

Female operators are skilled and tough in his eyes, and he trusts their abilities (kind of), but he would always keep a silent lookout, and try to keep them safe. Even if those women looked at him like he's a weirdo. He would always choose to help a woman over helping a man. Men can and have to survive on their own if a lady is in trouble. I know this wasn't asked but He would also never, ever hurt children.

If a woman tried to kill him (on the battlefield) he would be very professional about it. He wouldn't find joy in the killing, though. As odd as it may sound, König would prefer shooting to stabbing when it comes to neutralizing a female target. He wouldn't want to prolong their deaths, and it would make him extremely uncomfortable to knife a woman down. If he has to, he will do it, but the kill would be as quick and clean as possible.

The ones König has killed linger on the precipice of his mind as precious memories, sick fantasies made real. But the women he kills haunt him forever: those deaths sometimes give him nightmares. Especially if they brought even the tiniest bit of satisfaction...

...Because König does go into a mode when he's left with a firearm. He's so excited he sometimes drops mags simply because he's so enthusiastic. Thrill and anxiety mix when he's working, and he feels absolutely marvelous every time he fires a gun and gets to announce "Target down" in the comms. Better yet if he can go on a spree and destroy a whole room full of villains. Noticing later that one or some of them were women would give him a cold feeling in the gut and leave him with a worsening PTSD.

If a woman was violent in other circumstances, meaning outside work/warfare, he would simply seize them as gently and firmly as he can and try to calm them down. König thinks hitting women is just wrong. Even if they were trying to hit him (hitting on, as in flirting with him, now that's a different thing hehe. Not sure if this is what you asked, if so let me know!). It's unmanly and cowardly, and he would kill any guy who hits women, and kill them without mercy.

König's traumatic childhood has put him on a knight's quest to protect all women and children from harm. His mother has greatly influenced the way he sees women overall. At the end of the day, they're creatures who don't know how to defend themselves so he needs to save them.

But then again... These 'Knight in Shining Armor' fantasies should be taken with a grain of salt.

Because seeing a woman under him in a helpless state, looking back at him with cute, wet eyes while he's lodged deep inside is the best thing in the world in König's opinion. He would never deliberately go and hurt a woman... But why then does it feel so good when Engel squeals every time he goes a little too deep? (Always on accident, of course.)

[mariacallous]

MYKOLAIV, UKRAINE—Kateryna Nahorna is getting ready to find trouble.

Part of an all-female team of dog handlers, the 22-year-old is training Ukraine’s technical survey dogs—Belgian Malinois that have learned to sniff out explosives.

The job is huge. Ukraine is now estimated to be the most heavily mined country on Earth. Deminers must survey every area that saw sustained fighting for unexploded mines, missiles, artillery shells, bombs, and a host of other ordnance—almost 25 percent of the country, according to government estimates.

The dogs can cover 1,500 square meters a day. In contrast, human deminers cover 10 square meters a day on average—by quickly narrowing down the areas that manual deminers will need to tackle, the dogs save valuable time.

“This job allows me to be a warrior for my country … but without having to kill anyone,” said Nahorna. “Our men protect us at war, and we do this to protect them at home.”

A highly practical reason drove the women’s recruitment. The specialized dog training was done in Cambodia, by the nonprofit Apopo, and military-aged men are currently not allowed to leave Ukraine.

War has shaken up gender dynamics in the Ukrainian economy, with women taking up jobs traditionally held by men, such as driving trucks or welding. Now, as mobilization ramps up once more, women are becoming increasingly important in roles that are critical for national security.

In Mykolaiv, in the industrial east, Nahorna and her dogs will soon take on one of the biggest targets of Russia’s military strategy when they start to demine the country’s energy infrastructure. Here, women have been stepping in to work in large numbers in steel mills, factories, and railways serving the front line.

It’s a big shift for Ukraine. Before the war, only 48 percent of women over age 15 took part in the workforce — one of the lowest rates in Europe. War has made collecting data on the gender composition of the workforce impossible, but today, 50,000 women serve in the Ukrainian army, compared to 30,000 before the war.

The catalyst came in 2017, years before the current war began. As conflict escalated with Russia in Crimea, the Ukrainian government overturned a Soviet-era law that had previously banned women from 450 occupations.

But obstacles still remain; for example, women are not allowed jobs the government deems too physically demanding. These barriers continue to be chipped away—most recently, women have been cleared to work in underground mines, something they were prevented from doing before.

Viktoriia Avramchuk never thought she would follow her father and husband into the coal mines for DTEK, Ukraine’s largest private energy company.

Her lifelong fear of elevators was a big factor—but there was also the fact that it was illegal for women to work underground.

Her previous job working as a nanny in a local kindergarten disappeared overnight when schools were forced to close at the beginning of the war. After a year of being unemployed, she found that she had few other options.

“I would never have taken the job if I could have afforded not to,” Avramchuk said from her home in Pokrovsk. “But I also wanted to do something to help secure victory, and this was needed.”

The demining work that Nahorna does is urgent in part because more than 55 percent of the country is farmed.

Often called “the breadbasket of Europe,” Ukraine is one of the world’s top exporters of grain. The U.K.-based Tony Blair Institute for Global Change, which has been advising the Ukrainian government on demining technology, estimates that landmines have resulted in annual GDP losses of $11 billion.

“Farmers feel the pressure to plow, which is dangerous,” said Jon Cunliffe, the Ukraine country director of Mines Advisory Group (MAG), a British nonprofit. “So we need to do as much surveying as possible to reduce the size of the possible contamination.”

The dogs can quickly clear an area of heavy vegetation, which greatly speeds up the process of releasing noncontaminated lands back to farmers. If the area is found to be unsafe, human deminers step in to clear the field manually.

“I’m not brave enough to be on the front line,” 29-year-old Iryna Manzevyta said as she slowly and diligently hovered a metal detector over a patch of farmland. “But I had to do something to help, and this seemed like a good alternative to make a difference.”

Groups like MAG are increasingly targeting women. With skilled male deminers regularly being picked up by military recruiters, recruiting women reduces the chances that expensive and time-consuming training will be invested in people who could be drafted to the front line at a moment’s notice. The demining work is expected to take decades, and women, unlike men, cannot be conscripted in Ukraine.

This urgency to recruit women is accelerating a gender shift already underway in the demining sector. Organizations like MAG have looked to recruit women as a way to empower them in local communities. Demining was once a heavily male-dominated sector, but women now make up 30 percent of workers in Vietnam and Colombia, around 40 percent in Cambodia, and more than 50 percent in Myanmar.

In Ukraine, the idea is to make demining an enterprise with “very little expat footprint,” and Cunliffe said that will only be possible by recruiting more women.

“We should not be here in 10 years. Not like in Iraq or South Sudan, where we have been for 30 years, or Vietnam, or Laos,” Cunliffe said. “It’s common sense that we bring in as many women as we can to do that. In five to 10 years, a lot of these women are going to end up being technical field managers, the jobs that are currently being done by old former British military guys, and it will change the face of demining worldwide because they can take those skills across the world.”

Manzevyta is one of the many women whose new job has turned her family dynamics on their head. She has handed over her previous life, running a small online beauty retail site, to her husband, who—though he gripes—stays at home while she is out demining.

“Life is completely different now,” she said, giggling. “I had to teach him how to use the washing machine, which settings to use, everything around the house because I’m mostly absent now.”

More seriously, Manzevyta said that the war has likely changed many women’s career trajectories.

“I can’t imagine people who have done work like this going back and working as florists once the war is over,” she laughed.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1969 Shelby Mustang GT500 Fastback

1969 was, effectively, the final year for the Shelby Mustang. By now assembly had shifted in Michigan from California where it was contracted out to A.O. Smith Corporation. Smith, an established Motor City contractor, had brought a level of serious manufacturing skill, supplier management, procedure and standards never seen at Shelby’s facility where LAX met the vibrant (and sometimes extreme) subculture of Venice, California.

Now largely designed and specified by Ford staffers, the 1969 Shelby Mustang was drastically different visually from the standard Mustangs, with a completely different nose and grille, a wide rectangular opening with blacked out grille flanked by 7” headlights and with Shelby’s characteristic driving lights now smaller rectangular pieces below the attractive, but largely ineffective, bumper. The special Shelby hood had five ducts, three NACA-style surface ducts replaced the complicated but entertaining shaker hoods of years gone by to supply cold air directly to the engine air intake and two extractors at the back of the hood relieving underhood pressure and exhausting heated air in front of the windshield.

A surface duct behind the headlights and a scoop behind the door and in front of the rear wheel arch that was ducted to the rear brakes continued the performance theme. The rear panel was completely different from the Mustang, housing a set of 1965 Thunderbird sequential taillights with the rear license plate placed between them and including a small ducktail spoiler. The area under the bumper where standard Mustangs carried their license plate contained two rectangular outlets for the Shelby’s dual exhaust system. Standard wheels were unique 5-spoke Mag Stars with alloy centers and chrome steel rims.

Under the hood lay the 428 Cobra Jet which had powered the ’68 Shelby GT500KR. Both Ford and Shelby recognized the superiority of the high performance CJ and made it the standard engine for 1969’s Shelby Mustangs. 

At the end of the 1969 model year 789 Shelby Mustangs were in-process at A.O. Smith. They were visually updated with black hood stripes and a chin spoiler and given new VINs. Otherwise the 1970s were exactly the same as the ‘69s making these two years essentially identical examples of the end of the Shelby Mustang series which had begun only a scant six years before.

Avidly sought by collectors and obsessively documented by the Shelby American Automobile Club, most Shelby Mustangs are well known and have well known histories. Occasionally, however, a example appears which has been out of sight for years. Even more rarely it turns out to have been little used and continuously maintained by a thoughtful and caring single owner for nearly forty years.

The Black Jade 1969 Shelby Mustang GT500 Sportsroof fastback offered here is one of those rare and highly desirable cars. It was delivered new to Ford’s dealer in Yokohama, Japan, Marubeni Motors K.K., and was sold thereafter to its first, and only, owner in Japan. It has been repainted in the original color once but is otherwise completely original, as delivered and has only 84,941km on its metric-calibrated export speedometer (52,779 miles.) Its sympathetic maintenance and care shows throughout in its clean, straight, rust-free condition.

Power of course comes from the 428 cubic inch Cobra Jet Ram Air V-8 engine which Ford and Shelby conservatively rated at 335 horsepower at 5,200rpm and a gut-wrenching 440 lb-ft torque at 3,400rpm. It puts the power through Ford’s highly regarded C-6 automatic transmission and Traction-Lok differential with high speed 3.00:1 gearing that takes full advantage of the CJ engine’s torque. In addition to the highly desirable drivetrain specification it is loaded with options including the Visibility Group, Goodyear white letter tires, Sport Deck folding rear seat, power front disc brakes, power steering, tilt steering column, Selectaire air conditioning, AM/8-track stereo radio, tinted glass, deluxe belts, tachometer and trip odometer.

It is finished in one of the Shelby Mustang’s most attractive colors, Black Jade. The interior and high back buckets seats are upholstered in black Clarion Knit/Corinthian vinyl that complements with Black Jade exterior.

It returned to the U.S. in 2006 but has never been titled by its current owner so it remains a one-owner car. Its absolutely clear history, one-owner provenance, highly original condition with known mileage and extensive options list are attributes shared by few Shelby Mustangs of this age. This is a rare opportunity for an astute collector to acquire a particularly significant, unmolested Shelby Mustang from the last, and most highly developed, series.

1969 Shelby Mustang GT500 Fastback

Powered by a 428ci V8 engine mated to a C6 automatic transmission, this beauty includes the original #Shelby owner card, a copy of the Shelby work order and Window Sticker.

1969 Shelby Mustang GT500 Fastback

1969 Shelby Mustang GT500 Fastback

[mcgnussen]

a very sweet article about k-mag written by matt bishop ❤️

my favourite things from the article:

despite never having met matt's mother, kevin wept when he heard that she had died of cancer

k-mag bought fifty copies of matt's book to help with sales and donate the proceeds to the charity made by matt

kevin drove 300 km (almost 200 miles) in the middle of the night to pick up matt

i really love the ending as well ❤️

"kevin magnussen is a dear friend, as i say, and he is also a good person. he is a loving husband and father. he is a very experienced f1 driver, he is extremely fit, and his battle scars have made him not only wiser but also shrewder than he used to be; yet he is still only in his very early 30s. he is almost as embedded at haas as max verstappen is at red bull. more’s the pity, perhaps. he could still win grands prix, and even f1 world championships, if the right opportunity were to knock. but, sadly, it almost certainly will not."

[cultofdixon]

Vocalize What’s Inside

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • SFW/ANGST • Risking your life countless times for someone who doesn’t notice, only for you to realize it was never one sided • TW: Scars / Nightmares / PTSD / Injuries

Daryl Dixon, man of a few words and certainly someone who doesn’t just share with anybody…

Found a soft spot for you.

“Y/N, Daryl. Go on the next run will yea? You know what we’ll need” Rick states heading straight to the gardens of the prison.

“He’s quick with it I guess.” Y/N laughs a bit going to get her gear as Daryl watches her until the second she entered the prison.

“You’re staring”

Daryl froze hearing the other Grimes’ voice catch him off guard. He turns to Carl seeing his mischievous smile plastered on his face and next thing you know, Daryl pushes him into the dirt.

“Mind yer business”

“Then stop staring that like you’re gonna die if she leaves your sight!”

“CARL” Rick yells out spotting his son bothering Daryl and once Carl groans running over to him. He gave Daryl a shrug in response to his son being annoying.

As Y/N was heading out of the cell block she was stopped by her name being called by Maggie. She sets her bag by the door before running up the stairs to head to her cell.

“Need something Mags?”

“A little favor. Rick ain’t quiet and said you were going on a run.”

“Yeah, with Daryl. So…this favor?” Y/N smiles sitting beside Maggie on her cot.

The roaring of Daryl’s bike made Y/N run over faster climbing onto the back of his bike throwing his crossbow over her shoulder. He pats her thigh for her to scoot closer and wrap her arms around his torso.

“What took yea so long?”

“Girl things”

“Right. Don’t tell me anymore” Daryl scoffs with a bit of a laugh as Y/N rolls her eyes smiling holding onto him tightly when he started to drive once Carl and Rick opened the gate for them.

The drive felt longer than usual as Daryl took a longer route to show his rider a bit of the quiet in the storm. He may have not seen it but the way she relaxes against him, he knows she’s smiling watching everything go by.

“Imma hit up the pharmacy and you sweep the the grocer?”

“Mm. Should stick together”

“I’ve handled my fair share of walkers, D. I’ll holler if it gets too much” Y/N squeezes his bicep with a smile on her way to the small pharmacy they found a bit ago.

Daryl being quick as he was, swept the building and got what seemed useful before entering the pharmacy finding Y/N scrambling through the ruins. He was going to ask to help her find whatever she needed but when she shot up suddenly from crouching, she held up a pregnancy test and read it carefully. Was she seein’ somebody else in the prison? Part of him felt jealous and another was toward his insecurity.

“Hey”

The way she didn’t tense when he called toward her. Y/N turned to him shooting a smile his direction as she didn’t bother hiding the box.

“Hey sorry, was I taking forever? I had to find somethin’ for Maggie”

“I’m takin’ it’s what in yer hands?” thank god it’s not for you. Daryl propped himself against one of the empty shelves as Y/N nods while she stuffs it in her backpack.

“Can’t tell them you saw, okay?”

“Okay” Daryl nods watching her smile and god does he take a mental picture of it. “I’ve got everythin’” he says heading out of the building as Y/N trails behind him after snagging a few more things.

It didn’t take long for the archer to get in some trouble, but even shorter time for Y/N to quickly body slam the walker away from him knocking it off it’s feet. Daryl looked at her with pure confusion as to why the hell she did that.

“Don’t do that!”

“It got the walker off you!”

“Don’t matter! You could’ve been grabbed. Scratched. Fuck! Just don’t do that” Daryl snaps annoyed going to put an arrow through the walker’s head before retrieving said arrow and heading back to his bike. “Let’s go”

She felt defeated even when saving him. Yeah, it didn’t need to be that “dramatic” but he really doesn’t understand why she would do that when he could’ve handled it.

Once the two returned to the prison, Rick noticed Daryl’s annoyed expression over what happened as Y/N tried her best not to look too upset with herself. He was going to ask Daryl how the run was but he immediately dropped his bag of supplies to his feet before storming off.

“What’d you do?”

“What didn’t I do” Y/N sighs. “I have to get something to somebody but then I’ll put the rest in the pantry. Okay?”

“I’ll take care of his stash…Uhm. Give him space I guess?” Rick frowns as Y/N nods walking past him after getting off Daryl’s bike.

“What’s up yours?” Carol scoffs watching her best friend approach her with annoyance and a bit of rage. “Cmon. What’s wrong pookie?”

“Don’t. I ain’t in the goddamn mood for nicknames” He groans sitting at the table Carol was currently residing.

“Then talk about it or I’m leavin’”

“It’s Y/N!”

“Oh, oh!” Carol suddenly started smiling expecting the obvious but was soon met with a shake of the archer’s head as her smile instantly faded. “Oh…so what then?”

“Got in a bit of a mess with a walker. And she just. Fucking slammed against it”

“Taking it was about to topple you over or it was already on top of you”

“Don’t justify what she did”

“I mean. You both aren’t hurt are you?”

“No! But still reckless” Daryl sighs resting his face in his hands. “That shit scared the fuck outta me”

Carol knew not to press it any further and comfort the archer after a stressful moment. He knows why he’s acting such a way but even if it wasn’t for that he would still worry about the damn girl.

“You scared him. That’s what yea did” Maggie states on one side of the half wall as she was taking the test that Y/N sought out for her.

“I understand. But should I apologize? Or do you think he will get even madder”

“Is that even a word? No. It is a word. Just sounds funny” Maggie referred to “madder” which steered the conversation but as she was worrying about a possible mini Glenn happening, Y/N knew she would have to apologize. At least to see if that will make him less mad.

But she didn’t see him until the planned run with Rick and Michonne to possibly tame some horses they found a herd running through. The two sat in the bed of the truck with the things they will need and the ride was slow enough to hear the other person if they talked.

“Hey Daryl?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry about the body block the other day. Or whatever you call what I did…”

“It’s fine” Daryl sighs scratching the side of his face as he didn’t wait for Y/N to say another word once the truck stopped and he got out.

The group found one of the horses from the herd it was a part of. Michonne manages to get the rope around its neck to try and get it to calm enough for one of the others to climb on its back. But before Rick could even try, the horse started bucking. It’s not just humans that don’t like to be tied against their will.

Y/N dodged every blow in her direction and noticed it get dangerously close to Daryl. Right as he was about to have a blow landed in his abdomen, Y/N was stupid again pushing the archer out of the way and getting kicked instead.

She is shorter than Daryl. Not by a lot but enough for the blow to be directly in the chest when he would’ve been hit in the stomach.

The poor girl landed hard on her back after getting kicked that the wind got knocked out of her.

“Shit!” Daryl yells quickly addressing the situation watching her gasp for air for a moment. Michonne came over to help her sit up to get her to try and take deep breaths. “I fucking hate horses”

“It’s okay. You’re okay” Michonne reassures Y/N as she finally got a few deep breaths in but her chest was hurting even more now. “Come on. Let’s get yea back”

“Look here y’all!” Rick yells catching everyone’s attention as he managed to get the horse tamed. “Now we got another form of transportation”

“Now I hate you” Daryl snaps helping Michonne with getting Y/N up and back to the truck.

Daryl took over driving and had Y/N in the front with him while Michonne sat in the truck bed and Rick had his ride. He kept glancing at her every now and then watching the discomfort grow based on her expression which lead to the drive being slower and much longer.

Once the four returned to the prison and Carl was personally excited to see the horse his dad brought back. Y/N slowly stepped out of the car holding her chest as Michonne went to her immediately once getting out. Daryl was about to help but Michonne waved him off like “I’ve got this” and leaving the archer to stew once again.

“Hey grumpy. I heard about what happened to Y/N, but Hershel said she’ll be okay” Carol makes her presence known when joining the archer in the watchtower while carrying dinner she made. Another stew. Not that he ever complains. “Thought you would’ve liked an update” she says calmly as she handed the bowl to Daryl watching him happily accept.

“She scared me once again” he frowns staring at the bowl. “And got hurt this time”

“She’s gonna be okay and it would’ve been you that had gotten hurt instead—-“

“I wish it was! And I ain’t gonna confront her about it cuz I’ll hear her say some bullshit that my life matters too or somethin’”

“But it does” Carol smacks his shoulder catching him off guard. “You never care for yourself, Daryl. It’s obvious you give 100% into caring for others. But not for yourself…so seriously. Take a second and realize. How much she cares for you”

It was obvious to others that watched the two interact. Y/N cared deeply for Daryl as he did for her. She would go out of her way to make sure he was okay even when she wasn’t alright herself. As Daryl took the time to be by her side when she needed it. When it became more of caring for the physical well-being. They wanted each other safe, but Y/N was willing to risk herself to the extreme if it meant he was okay.

She knows her limits. But she can’t lose him.

And he doesn’t want to lose her.

“Ey, no bike ridin’” Daryl stops Y/N in her tracks as she gave him a disappointed look before nodding. “Just until the bruising clears” he gestures to his own chest to indicate what’s really on hers. Her bruises peaked out from her tank top. The horse really got her. “But we uh, can use one of the cars”

“You’re still letting me go on the run…even when you’re mad about—-“

“I ain’t mad…just, wish yea didn’t do that” Daryl opened the car door for Y/N. She knew as she entered that the archer could notice the blush that had formed to the gesture. Hell, the tint of pink on the tip of his ears would give him away.

The two have always done runs just the two of them. Daryl didn’t want to stop doing that because he was overwhelmingly worried about the woman he cares deeply for. He knows he can protect her outside the prison, the best he could.

“Maybe since we aren’t on your bike we could go a bit further? Even make camp a night” Y/N asks Daryl as the two were at an abandoned gas station looking at a map from the glovebox on the hood of the car after siphoning the surrounding cars for gas.

“Already told Rick we’d be a while. Didn’t mean hours or days so, yeah. Why not” Daryl pulls away from the hood to grab his crossbow to load back up as Y/N folded the map and did the same.

Going through the passing neighborhoods, they found plenty of stuff for everybody. Especially cans of food and formula for Judith.

Once Daryl got the can trigger line and Y/N secured their findings in the car, they regrouped in the center of their small campsite. Y/N held herself as the night breeze that came through still drew goosebumps even with the small fire Daryl had made to help cook the rabbit he caught on the run.

“Watch this?” Daryl gestures to the catch watching Y/N nod before getting up to grab something from the car.

Y/N watches the rabbit cook and flipped it when she thought it needed to be. She flinched when she heard the archer curse and the shut of the trunk.

“Daryl?”

“Sorry” Daryl came back handing Y/N his poncho to help with her small shiver as she couldn’t keep it to herself when noticing he was hiding his other hand.

“What happened?” She frowns putting the poncho on staring directly at his hidden hand.

“Nothin’. It’s nothing”

“Daryl. Come on”

“Y/N. It’s seriously noth—-“

“Shut the fuck up” Y/N suddenly snaps feeling her face heat up on anger and a bit of embarrassment as Daryl looks at her surprised. “You can’t hide an injury. I know better than anyone how hard that can be…I don’t care how small it is, D. Just let me fucking see it”

Not another word was shared as Daryl watches Y/N be ever so careful with the cut in his palm using her medical supplies she always carries. Enough for a few cuts here and there. Not enough to cause a dent in their supply that Hershel keeps inventory on.

Daryl waited for her to finish patching him up to carefully take one of her hands into his. The gesture made her look up from their laps showing the tears that threatened to spill, finally do so.

“You care so much for me…”

“Yeah, I do…”

“Why am I worth it to yea?”

“Because your life matters yknow. You may not think it does, but it does…and I can’t lose you. You mean so much more to me than you think”

“C’mere then” Daryl gently tugs her toward him wrapping his arms around her once she got close enough to lean on him feeling his arms tighten enough but not too much to cause discomfort. “Let me take care of yea, too”

The days went by slowly after that interaction…the archer found himself being more mindful of his surrounding for his well-being as well as others. He made sure to take in every second of every day and make sure he comes back at the end of it.

To her.

“You wanna go for a ride?” Daryl leans over Y/N as she was reading at one of the tables outside.

“For a run?”

“Nah, one of those rides”

Y/N leans back into him looking up slightly with a smile, feeling his lips press a kiss to her forehead.

“C’mon then”