#so you can imagine how dumb it was for young me to be afraid of being pregnant suddenly 💀💀

[jjhonanana]

Trans Confession #9173681

My biggest fear when I was younger was somehow becoming the Virgin Mary because my period was late.

My second biggest fear was my period.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 || 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: here || part two: money power glory

Summary_when Coriolanus promised to split the plinth prize with his best friend, he didn’t knew that would be enough reason for Dr. Gaul to transform you into an experiment.

Warnings_bff to enemies, asshole Coryo, violence, mutations, angst, fluff.

Note_ im back to my coriolanus shit, and nothing just listen to valley of the dolls and girl

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_________________________________________

It was a dry fall day when Coriolanus and his family ran out of cabbage and potatoes. He was to go to Pluribus Bell and trade some belongings for food. He was a kid, and he had been struggling for a very long time now. The Capitol was slowly making its way back to what it was before the war, but it was taking longer than expected.

Tigris was out, trying to trade some of the gold earrings from Grandma’am for wood, for the upcoming winter.

At the rough age of twelve, Coriolanus Snow had been growing impatient to get older, get into University, and give his family a better life. He already knew how to disguise his lack of wealth and how to fit in with his classmates. Coriolanus had no friends, just people to blend in.

He carefully closed the door from Pluribus’ place when someone opened the door from inside, pulling him backward, and making him trip.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry- Coriolanus Snow?” He heard a soft female voice and when he stood up, he finally saw you.

“Y/n?…” He grew worried, wondering if any other classmates were around, hoping to be wrong, as he didn’t want to be seen.

“Hi…” you awkwardly said.

Coriolanus was indifferent to you. He disliked how he often heard you gossiping with your friends. He disliked how you always participated in debates and readings, finding it annoying. And most important, he knew you were born capitol but your family was once District 1 generations ago. You were no daughter of elite members.

“What are you doing here?” The boy asked.

You weren’t expecting to see him there. Pluribus’ customers were always… poor people, hungry. So when you saw the brown bag with two cabbages and some potatoes in Coriolanus’ bag, you didn’t even need to question.

“I come here to trade my mother’s designs for food.” Coriolanus never thought you were in a situation similar to him.

“My father served in the war, he got injured and couldn’t keep working, and my mother quit her job to take care of him. We don’t have much but we are surviving…” you added shamelessly, Coriolanus was jealous that you weren’t afraid of revealing the truth, something he couldn’t.

“I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, Coriolanus. If that’s what you want” you added after seeing him judging you quietly, giving a cold look. You had the idea of him being serious and a young man of few words, no doubt he was.

“Can I trust you?” He asked, thinking he sounded so dumb.

“I have no reason to spread details of your life. So yes, you can trust me…”

“Okay…”

“I live on the Corso…” you said and without thinking, Coriolanus smiled more than he should have.

“Me too!” His excited tone made you feel relieved.

“Can you imagine both of us living in the same place?” You asked cheerfully. Coriolanus doubted it.

“I don’t think so…”

Oh but how mistaken was he? Not only do you two live on the Corso, but you also live in the same building. He had the penthouse and your parents owned the floor below.

Coriolanus was taken aback by how calm and excited you were as you showed him your house.

The boy learned quickly that your family was doing better than his. You had a lot of things, your room had exotic wallpapers, and a lamp made of feathers was even affordable.

For the first time, Coriolanus felt like he could actually enjoy meeting someone new. Even better if it was in his safe space, his home, and the source of his identity.

And that’s how you turned out to be the only person Coriolanus allowed to know about his situation.

…

Exactly five years later, Coriolanus was coming back from the market where he had traded a watch for some black dressing pants. Even though the Plinth Prize had been only announced two days ago, Coriolanus was already thinking about clothing for the occasion. He was out of breath by the time he hit your floor. And he was not going to stop by your place but he grew curious when he saw you tending a big piece of dark grey crinkled fabric. You had your long hair curled up, wearing slippers, a nightgown, and a robe.

He smiled, wondering how important could that fabric be to not acknowledge him.

“What you got there?” You quickly looked up, slightly embarrassed that Coriolanus caught you in your pajamas.

“I know it’s early, but my mom and I had an idea for a set. In case you know-“ you feel like you sound very narcissistic, hinting that you could possibly win the Plinth prize. Coriolanus and you were exceptional in school. And the only “friends” you could count were Clemensia, Festus, and Sejanus, although they were slightly behind you and the blonde.

“I had the same idea,” Coriolanus said, walking closer, showing you the black pants in his arm.

You smile at him, feeling reassured that you both thought the same. You knew the young man judged you once. But now, he had no reason to. Or so you believed.

He was very close to turning eighteen in the first months of the approaching year, you had also thought about buying him a present.

“Come inside. I need to tell you something…” he nodded, but gulped, thinking the worst.

You shut the door and Coriolanus noticed it smelled sweet.

“Oh, I’m baking something… I would like to share it with you and your family” The boy blushed at you noticing how hungry he was and also because it was very kind of you to share given the circumstances.

“You don’t have to, y/n”

“But I want to.…” he rolled his eyes, chuckling, tenderly accepting your good intentions.

“I don’t have anything to give you back. But we made a promise. Remember?” You nod, smiling softly at him.

Coriolanus is your best friend. Although Clemensia, Festus, and even Arachne were close friends, no one compared to Coryo.

“I do, but…”

“No, y/n. No matter what, we are splitting the prize. Both of us are going to university together.” He seriously said.

In the most inconvenient way, Coriolanus had found an ally. He knew most of his classmates since he was a little child, but after getting to know you, he understood it wasn’t the same. He was grateful for having you.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Sit…” Coriolanus walked towards your kitchen table. He realized your parents were gone. Which made him wonder where were they.

The place smelled like corn syrup and roses. Deep down, probably those two were his favorite things. He craved sweet things and the roses reminded him of his mother and her powder.

“So?…” he inquired, you were a little busy placing some towels on the table.

“My mother found a job in a fabric store, in a couple of weeks she’ll be able to refer Tigris. She’ll be able to leave the work with Fabricia” his eyes went wide, a smile immediately growing on his face.

“And not only that. My father accepted to work as a secretary in the offices of the Capitol’s congress” he couldn’t be jealous of the success of your parents when they were offering to help Tigris. He went up to give you a hug.

“That’s great news, dear” you hugged him back. He smelled like cedar and roses. You remembered the flowers his grandmother sent the day before.

“If things go right. My father could get us a job there after the Academy. And we’d have more money to pay the university’s tuition” he nodded, unconsciously hiding his face in your neck. The closure made you blush, it wasn’t like you and the boy hugged very often. But you appreciated it.

“I have faith we’ll have a bright future, Coryo. I really do”

“Thank you, for everything you and your family have done,” the blonde said.

“You are like family too. It’s nothing…” you reply, breaking the hug to check at the oven.

Coriolanus eyes you. He catches the smell of your hair, patchouli, and herbs. He smiles, looking at your clean face and old nightgown. He can’t deny you’ve grown into a gorgeous woman. But he blocks the thoughts from flowing further.

“I made bread pudding.” You knew it was his favorite.

And his smile only grew. When Tigris had the chance to steal from Fabricia and his waste, she made a classical bread pudding. But you were able to do a more sophisticated one. With cherry blossom powder that your mother had. The bread was more wet and less like fudge. Coriolanus loved it ever since he tried back two years during the holidays.

“I’m really liking this day” he admits, making you chuckle as you place the dessert literally in his face.

…

Reaping day wasn’t your favorite. You didn’t hate the districts but you didn’t like how they tried to destroy the Capitol. Nonetheless, the Hunger Games weren’t part of your fond morals. Having the privilege of being a mentor for the first time ever in the history of the games, wasn’t as exciting as it sounded. The only good thing is that it would lead to being closer to knowing who won the Plinth prize.

Months had passed and the day had finally arrived. You slipped into the two-piece set your mother made for you. A blazer and a long circle skirt in dark grey. An old pair of black boots that belonged to your grandmother and were in excellent condition, the leather felt nice and the heels added elegance to your outfit.

You never felt intimidated by not being part of the elite and being considered “poor” and it tore you to see Coriolanus feel like he wasn’t enough. Like the grate was of his last name had to loosen power.

So when you called him through the phone to see if he was ready, he said you should go first, showing a display of a little panic attack because Tigris hadn’t returned with the shirt he was to wear.

As much as you protested and said you would wait for him, he made you leave saying you couldn’t be late.

So you did.

When you stepped out of the building, you encountered Persephone, Coriolanus’ neighbor. The blonde had said once that Persephone and Clemensia were probably the prettiest girls from class. Which made you feel terrible but you ignored it from the moment it happened.

“Hey… Are you ready for today?” She asked.

“Yes… totally” You weren’t happy, to be honest, but you showed her your best smile.

“Why is Coriolanus not with you? He’s always attached to you…” the comment makes you smile nervously. Although you knew most of your classmates and had literally grown up along them, you never knew what kind of assimilation they had about you and Coriolanus.

“Oh, he woke up late. I wanted to wait for him, but he literally obliged me to go on” Persephone giggled, urging you to cross the street.

“That boy is head over heels for you…”

“Oh my goodness, Persephone. That’s not true…” she laughs, her lilac makeup and crimson lips making her look even more pretty.

“Trust me, y/n… There are even bets on the year you two will tie the knot!” Her comment makes you so embarrassed.

“We’re here!” You say changing the subject.

Heavensbee Hall is full of students and faculty. A lot of them say to you because it wasn’t a secret that your friendly demeanor and good grades made you more popular than Persephone.

When make it to the talk with Felix, Festus, and Arachne, you spot Clemensia entering the event along with Coriolanus.

At first glance, you tried to ignore the mixed feelings you caught after Persephone’s comments and seeing the man you quietly doted on the girl he considered the most beautiful.

“That can’t be y/n y/l/n! That’s a model!” you finally turn when you hear Clemmie, which makes you smile shyly.

Coriolanus finally spots you and he gulps. Every day, he saw you wearing opaque tones. He knew you craved vivid colors and exotic makeup, your mother was an unemployed fashion designer after all. Having the chance to wear elegant clothes and highlighting your skin with splotches of berry colors was a sight for Coriolanus. His hands felt sweaty and numb, a familiar feeling he started developing whenever you were close.

He walked straight towards you, taking a last sip of the posca he disliked. You smile at him, accommodating the rosebud attached to his heart. The action caught the attention of all your classmates and friends, who quietly gossiped or exchanged looks.

“That’s a gorgeous shirt, Coryo” he smiled.

“Tigris and your mother are my saviors” he whispered in your ear, which sent shivers to you.

You and your friends are called out to take a seat as the reaping is about to start. You end up seated between Coriolanus and Sejanus. And suddenly you find yourself lost in your thoughts, wondering who you would be mentoring. It’s all you could truly think about since you woke up. But suddenly, Coriolanus makes you come back to life.

“It’s going to be okay…” he said to which you replied with a little smile.

“By the way, you look very pretty…” your heart pounds as he whispers in your ear for the second time. Your smile grows along the blush creeping on your face.

“Really?” You feel so stupid after asking that. You didn’t want him to think you needed validation.

“Every day you look pretty, but I rarely see you with color in your face” he admits and it sends you to death the fact that he proceeded to grab your hand and give it a squeeze.

He didn’t know why he did that, but it felt right.

Something weird happened, you both felt a spark.

…

Watching kids fighting for their lives in the most gruesome way wasn’t appealing. Your eyes are on the little girl from District 8, your tribute; Wovey. The last time you saw her in the zoo before the games started, she made you cry so badly. She was just a little girl and the fact that she had smiled at you, saying how beautiful your dress was, made you understand every word Sejanus said.

The districts deserved to pay? Yes. But why not make them pay extra taxes, or limit their supplies? Why do you have to scavenge food for a little girl who is likely to die?

Sejanus had walked out after seeing what happened to his tribute. The bloodbath had been disgusting to watch. And as the hours pass as you sit along Coriolanus and other classmates watching your tributes, the weight of the events that happened on the previous days hit you. The moment you saw the rainbow-ruffled skirt from Lucy Gray Baird, you knew it would mark a before and after.

It was like her appearance in Coriolanus’ life had worsened everything for everyone surrounding him. First was Arachne, then Clemensia, whose image still haunted you with the scales and yellow eyes. Then the rebel bombing. It had been a long time since felt fear. You felt alone because you protected Wovey. But nobody protected you. The blurred sight of Coriolanus clinging to the ruffles of Lucy Gray’s skirt and calling for her as the medics took him away was very present.

You look down at your lap, the skirt of the uniform was on, but not the pants, since your leg was still bandaged from the burns you suffered the day of the bombing.

There’s a drift between you and Coriolanus since the day of the reaping. He appeared at the zoo and at night told you it wasn’t planned, he practically ignored you whenever he visited Lucy Gray but squeezed your hand the day of Arachne’s funeral. He confided to you what happened with Clemensia but refused to console you when she appeared in the hospital while you took care of Coriolanus.

The only good thing is that your parents were making a name. They were getting popular and you loved seeing them happy. Unfortunately, just as they were finding happiness, you were losing it.

You kept losing friend after friend. Clemensia ignored you moments before the games started. Arachne was gone, and Sejanus looked beyond depressed. And Coriolanus was falling for District scum.

How could he even inquire if the songbird was almost Capitol during the interviews?

Maybe you were a hypocrite for claiming Sejanus as a friend, who once was District and called it his home. But you despised Lucy Gray for wearing the clothes and makeup you craved, for being naturally charming and unconsciously revolving around most of your problems.

You have been quiet for hours, only having eyes for little Wovey.

Coriolanus glances at you frequently. And he can see the sad look on your face. He couldn’t ignore you had been changed since the reaping. The happy and positive girl he knew was slowly morphing into some lost panicked mentor.

The moment the games started, Coriolanus realized how hard it was for you to look after Wovey, one of the youngest tributes he had seen. The guilt of being such a bad friend started rubbing him in the wrong way.

Which is why he found himself constantly looking at you to see how you were doing.

But when he looks back, you’re gone. Most of the people watching the first day are gone.

It’s just Dr. Gaul telling him Sejanus entering the arena.

…

The tension was escalating. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep, not even with the cold shower that resulted nice for the heat. All he could think was about Sejanus and him running for their lives. He killed a boy. There was blood on his hands. He desperately called you but you didn’t answer. He went to bed thinking of Lucy Gray hiding in the arena and you practically ignoring him. And just when he was about to doze off with the memory of the kiss Lucy Gray gave him, his eyes opened abruptly.

He remembered the promise you two made.

When he walked back to Heavensbee Hall for the second day of the games, he could hear Lucky Flickerman giving the broadcast. He went straight to you, firstly noticing how you caressed your knuckles, showing that you were anxious.

“Could you sleep?” He asked, taking a seat beside you. You glanced at him, only to bow your head, back to your knuckles.

“I took some pills…” he frowned, confused.

“Pills?…”

“It’s nothing, Coryo. Just melatonin pills, to help me sleep well.” He nodded, not fully convinced.

“I’m sorry for being… distant,” he said, to which you shrugged, crossing your arms.

“It’s okay. We all have acquired different problems since the reaping. You have just been busy with your rainbow girl” Your tone distilled bitterness when you mentioned Lucy Gray, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coriolanus.

“When one of the two of us wins, it’ll be like before, but better.” he knew it wouldn’t.

“It’ll never be the same. Arachne is gone, Clemesia out of herself, Sejanus defying Gaul, the Ring twins' death… You’re already changing” he quickly took your hand, ignoring the way some people could be looking at him.

“I’m not. We’re family… you’re special. And I will always fight for you, y/n” his comment lit a fire inside you. You give him a little smile. But he knows you’re still blue.

Right when he was closer to admitting he had feelings for you, Lucy Gray appeared, withdrawing any plan he could have. And now he was confused about you.

Perhaps you only saw him as your best friend. Which is why he didn’t suppress the emotions Lucy Gray made him feel.

…

No-no, no, no, no, no… NO!

Every mentor and attendant in Heavensbee Hall heard you whisper until you literally screamed. The little Wovey had drank the water with poison. Tears immediately swelled in your eyes and you stood up, splashing the room with sorrow.

Even Capitol people felt emotional about the little girl slowly dying unbeknownst to her. Even Livia Cardew looked at you with empathy when you walked past her.

Even Clemensia, briefly looked at Coriolanus silently asking if she should go to follow you, but he told her he was going.

And he did. He followed you outside the room, finding you on one of the stairs leading to another hallway. Your hands covered your face, but he could hear you sobbing.

You felt terrible. You knew Wovey was likely to die, but that didn’t stop the pain. Adding all the strong emotions you’ve dealt with in the past days made you explode.

You just wanted your best friend. Regardless of his unrequited feelings, you needed him.

And he magically appeared.

When you wiped your eyes, he approached you. He took a seat beside you and caressed your shoulder.

“You’re not okay.” He said, to which you shook your head.

“I’m feeling the same as you. Only that I’m a crier and you’re not…” Coriolanus briefly smiled, appreciating your profile.

He faced the woman who knew all of him. The only woman that could ever understand him. And the only one who would care for him enough aside from his family.

“You were closer to Arachne than me. With Clemensia too. And your tribute was closer to being a baby again than she was to become a teenager…” new tears poured down and Coriolanus cursed himself for making you cry again.

“Is she finally gone?…” he nodded at you.

“You have to win, Coryo. You must win… This suffering must be worth it for one of us at least”

“If I win, you’re also in. We said it the day the prize was announced. We’re in this together…” Once again, he grabbed your hand again. And just when he was about to move away because you weren’t reciprocating the touch, you caressed his fingers, interlocking your hand with his.

“Lately I’ve been missing you a lot…” you confessed and it nearly made him blush.

“Why?…” it was dumb but he needed to hear something, he needed to comprehend.

“Well…. Because I need you, Coriolanus” his heart thumping and shaky hands prevented him from doing something stupid, but he offered you a lovely smile that you reciprocated.

He was about to say… “I need you too, y/n. Let me kiss you so I can accept whatever I feel for Lucy Gray is a whim”.

But he couldn’t. Because Festus appeared, looking for you two.

“Dr. Gaul wants you two back…” he said.

“Thanks, Festus” you thanked him.

And all the way to the room of commands, Coriolanus held your hand.

When the snakes landed on the arena of the games, Coriolanus stood up. When Lucy Gray was officially the winner, he went running to Tigris. But when he spun to hug you, he didn’t contain.

He grabbed your face and leaned to kiss you. The crowd cheered even harder, believing you two would officially begin a romance after years of uncertainty. You kissed him back, savoring the moment and feeling glad you didn’t give up on him.

“We won, y/n.” He whispered in your lips.

“We won, Coryo” You smiled, out of breath, and kissed him again.

…

His brain wasn’t thinking clearly. Coriolanus had messed up everything. He was being punished for his lies. Serving as a peacekeeper and leaving the Capitol was one thing. But for 20 years?

Perhaps he could follow Lucy Gray to District 12, just to see how was she. But 20 years was too long… especially when you were the woman he intended to marry one day.

He could say goodbye to his place in the University, he could say goodbye to paying the tax of his home. And he certainly could say goodbye to you.

But his biggest fear was that he slipped out you had the idea of the rat poison. Coriolanus was aware you said it vaguely, and he never told you he actually cheated.

As he walked out of Highbottom’s office, completely downcast, wondering how he would break down the news.

“Hey… Are you okay?” His nervousness grew as he watched you walk escorted by two peacekeepers.

“What are you doing?” You shrugged.

“Dr. Gaul wants to see me…” Coriolanus frowned. Was the lunatic going to punish you?

“And you? What are you doing here?” he bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell you yet. But probably it would be worse to wait and tell you in the morning, just when he was supposed to leave for the districts.

“The dean… he wanted to talk to me about the disbursement of the prize”

The guilt started killing him the moment you smiled at him. You leaned, stepped on your tiptoes, and gave him a gentle peck.

It took him by surprise, but caressed your cheeks and kissed you back.

“I’ll see you at home?….” He nodded, pressing his forehead with yours, knowing he probably wouldn’t see you again. His eyes watered and he tried to stop time.

But it was inevitable because you gave him one last smile and you passed by him, followed by the peacekeepers.

Chills assaulted him, but he thought everything was going to be okay. At least for you.

…

For a couple of days, he was able to forget about you. But soon when Sejanus asked how were, the guilt felt like a bucket of ice blocks falling all over him.

He lied, saying you were okay. But Lucy Gray knew he wasn’t being truthful. Coriolanus confessed to her. The songbird found it very hard to admit that Coriolanus’ true love was you. Perhaps he followed her to her home, he was making her happy. But the blonde was Capitol, he would always prefer his people and his girl.

“You have waited too long, darling. Please call her and at least apologize” she said throwing some rocks at the lake in front of them.

“She’s probably mad at me…”

“More the reason to fight for her” Coriolanus glanced at her confused. But Lucy Gray rolled her eyes playfully.

“Look…” she reached for a purple flower. She cut it and showed it to Coriolanus.

“From what I’ve heard of y/n… is that she is important. You said once she’s your best friend. Think of her like this flower, which is a hydrangea. They have medicinal properties and they are very pretty… but they’re delicate. So I think you would prefer to keep her nurtured. Because she’s special…” Coriolanus sighed.

He couldn’t say to Lucy Gray he was scared of losing you because it would mean that all he did the moment he bribed the secretary of the military deferment wasn’t worth it. He came to the twelve because he wanted to be with Lucy Gray, but he had some unresolved feelings for you.

It was so confusing.

“I’ll call her tomorrow during my break…” Lucy Gray nodded, knowing that after that call many things could change. But it was the right thing to do. Because you were innocent.

…

The jabberjays awakened something inside him. The possibility of finding a reason to be sent back to the Capitol sounded very attractive. But all was forgotten when he requested to call your apartment. In the same building, he called home.

He gulped nervously before a female voice picked up the call. Your mother.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Mrs. Y/l/n… It’s Coriolanus” she sighed, the blonde could almost see her nodding.

“Oh, Coriolanus. What a surprise to hear from you…”

“I guess y/n told you I was sent to serve as a peacekeeper” he admitted, surprised to hear your mother didn’t want to kill him for hurting you.

”Coriolanus… y/n has been sick since the day the hunger games closed” he frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear.

“What?…”

“Apparently she was working in the laboratories in the Citadel with Dr. Gaul. She caught a virus and has been quarantined. I’m so desperate to see her again. Her father has been asking but Dr. Gaul says she’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”

Coriolanus immediately thought back on Clemensia and the “flu” she caught. But now, it was ten times worse.

Did Gaul punish you for helping him to cheat in the games? Were you dead?

His hands started shaking.

“As soon as I’m back in the Capitol. I’ll try to ask for more information. She’ll be okay…” he tried to soothe your mother, but he was already freaking out.

So he didn’t have situate to send jabberjays with the recording of Sejanus revealing his rebel plans. All so he could go back to you.

…

He didn’t regret it. Because as soon as he stepped into the Citadel, back at home, it felt right.

“Welcome back to the Capitol, Mr. Snow,” said Dr. Gaul, tending her water mutts and giving him a sadic smile.

He stood silent for a couple of seconds. Debating whether to ask you or not.

“I know what you’re thinking about, boy,” she said, walking down the stairs of the mutt's cage.

Coriolanus remained silent, carefully eyeing her.

“She couldn’t get away if she was also guilty for putting in your head that silly idea for you to cheat during the games” he gulped, nervous.

“Have you talked with her parents?”

“Just with her mother once. They think she’s sick and will be fine in a couple of weeks. But they’re worried…” he admitted, trying to act relaxed.

“Oh sure they are worried. I heard the man is going straight to the president’s cabinet. And the mother, already spreading her wings in the fashion tendencies…” Coriolanus wasn’t aware that during his time away your parents had spent all of their time working to try to not worry too much about you. To gain power and find a quicker way to be with you.

“I didn’t know…”

“She was very angry when she learned you had lied to her…”

How was he supposed to keep his composure with that talk?

“I never intended to hurt her” he hated to admit that. He couldn’t be vulnerable. But it crumbled just because it was about you.

“Ah, young love. It’s so dangerous because it makes us weak…”

“Is she alive?…” he tried to change the subject.

“You just have to say you want her back and she’ll be in the Capitol’s hospital in a couple of days” he grew more worried.

“She can’t die… or stop being her”

“The snakes in your other friend really triggered you…” Gaul mocked, laughing.

With that lunatic mentoring him, he had to pull out a stronger card. Something that would compromise him as well so she had no choice but to let you go at once.

“I intend to marry her.” The woman stopped laughing, only to look at him, trying to find the lie in his words, but there wasn’t.

��Brave girl to conquer the heart of a Snow…” and with that, she started walking towards another room in the big laboratory.

The room of voxels and human mutations. He grew anxious until Dr. Gaul pointed out a big water tank.

Coriolanus holds a big breath of terror. He tries his best to remain still. But he felt fear. Just when he thought nothing could ever hurt him again, he had to encounter you in the worst possible way.

“What a shame, she was responding very well. Even looks like a mythological monster”

“Is she going to be… human again?”

“With patience, yes. I’ll let you know when we move her to the hospital. It would be nice if you gave the news to her parents. You know, given you’re the reason she almost ended up with a mermaid tail.”

There rested your naked unconscious body, almost completely covered in salmon scales. Your legs seemed to be slowly disappearing, as the scales were tangling them from your hips to your knees. Your hair was matted and your lashes seemed oddly long.

Coriolanus walked home. He couldn’t take the trolley. The walk seemed short, even with the approaching winter. Your image was haunting him. He couldn’t keep the secret to Tigris when he came back home. He pretended to have a giant smile on his face when he blurted that the Plinths made him heir of their fortune. And he tried to ignore the memory of the elevator indicating the name of your floor.

“But she’s going to be okay?” Tigris asked worried.

“Dr. Gaul said so…”

“I thought she was busy trying to get into the university… her parents rarely appeared to be around too”

Coriolanus remembered what he said back in the laboratory.

“I told Dr. Gaul I’m marrying her” Her cousin opened her eyes in disbelief.

“So she could release her?”

“Yes. But also because… I always thought of it.”

“Are you conscious she’s likely to be mad at you for leaving without answers?” Coriolanus nodded, knowing very well you had plenty of reasons to hate him. But there was no going back.

”Very aware…”

“Then you’ll show her again the fine man you are. You remind her why you were best friends.” He was no good man. He killed people to get to the top. But he wouldn’t be that man to you. You were the only one who could possibly understand him and keep his filthy secrets.

“Snow lands on top” Tigris whispered.

Coriolanus turned to look at a picture of you. He and his family love you so much, you had your own portrait in the Snow Penthouse. The first your mother designed was pink and you wore it. You were always very pretty to the eyes of everyone. But only at that moment Coriolanus appreciated your beauty. The he looked at another picture, the one of you two during the reaping ceremony. His tailored shirt and your handmade clothes. That girl and boy were long gone.

But Coriolanus had done so much damage to step back. With Sejanus and Highbottom gone, he had secured a place in the Capitol. Lucy Gray couldn’t hurt him anymore. All he had to do was to win the girl that once belonged to him.

Giving one last look at the picture of you two, he smiled.

“Snow lands on top…” he answered back to Tigris.

_________

[eggtartz]

✧ 23th October ✧

Sanzu Haruchiyo // Breaking The Doll (f! sugar baby reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : lost of virginity, implied bimbo reader, implied overstimulation

your pink hairband twisted as your hair turned into a ponytail as you sitting in front of the mirror in satisfaction. you combed your hair neatly, placing a little ribbon and hair clips as well. "haru, do i look okay?" you turned your sugar daddy of six months. he looked up from his phone and smiled "you look good, baby. you should use the lipstick i bought you the other day, i like the color on your lips" he said.

a few months back, you were a struggling college student who desperately needed money so in coincidence, he offered to be your sugar daddy. in return, he wanted you to be his company. despite the weird looks and opinions of your relationship, you and sanzu had a quite stable relationship that hasn't evolved anywhere yet. not even sex.

"haru, how come you never want to have sex with me?" you pouted, playing with your hair "is it because i'm too young for you?" you asked again. he smiled warmly "do you want to? i'm not sure if that's what you really want, losing your virginity hurts you know?" he huskily whispered the last sentence that made send a jolt to your core. "i mean.. if it's you, i don't think it would hurt, would it?"

oh, you were a brat and a temptress mixed up in one luscious body. sanzu had to grip on the chair he's sitting on to stay calm and gentle, making you afraid and panic isn't one of his goals. "well, it would still." he said "but we can start slow, do you want that?" your face instantly lit up and you hopped in excitement "let's have sex!" you squealed, sanzu having to hide his erection.

sanzu was intending to be gentle but hell, the sight of your pink skirt hitched to your waist and your pastel panties he has bought last week already slightly damp is making him dizzy. all he wants is bury his face into your pussy that would definitely frighten you so he slowly caressed your covered cunt, making you whine. "a-ah, haruu.."

sanzu was going to break you slow, build you up again and repeat the same process because you were so pretty, so enticing. "patience.." his tone was stern, one hand on your lower lips and one ever so slightly tapping your clit. he could see the cotton panties you're wearing are getting wetter as he smirked. he bought one finger, inserting slowly to your still covered pussy. he wasn't doing direct penetration, only enough to make you frustrated.

"so wet, baby. soiling all over your panties, huh?" he chuckled, making sure to caress your sensitive bud and you started to pant. "n-no.. p-please.. need something inside.." you mewled sweetly.

however sanzu shook his head "no baby, we agreed to do it slowly. have your dumb, little brain forgot that?" he teased as your toes curl, wetness pooling the center of your panties. the dampness was apparent as sanzu pulled out his long cock from his pants. you drooled at the sight of it but he held you down "nu-uh, not today sweet doll" he cooed.

he tapped the head on your soiled panties as you jolted at the sensation, his hard dick making barely any friction towards your pussy. it was something else and you imagined how good it must feel when it's inside. "haru.. need it.. please.. promise it won't hurt" you bit your lip.

sanzu was quiet as he pushed your panty aside, inserting his hard rod in the fabric and caressed your lower lips with his slit. he teased, making sure to coat his cock with your precum. he slowly thrusted againts your entrance, not making any penetration yet. "harruuu! put it in!" you whimpered, rocking your hips

"patience, i said we'll take it slow" he hissed. you let out breathy moans as you felt his head barely grazing your heat, just barely making friction. you're losing your mind, your senses as you feel like you'd do anything for at least an inch of his dick. "haru please.. just the tip? please?" your eyes were teary as drooled dribbled down ok your chin, your nose was sniffling as your neat hair earlier has already loosened up.

sanzu was endeared, the sight of his broken doll was enough for him to finally give her what she wants. "just the tip" he said, slowly penetrating your hymen and into your cunt. it was deep shallow thrusts but you were moaning, your voice cracked as you smiled. "ah! so good! i wanna have sex with you everyday haruuu! everyday!" you squealed as he thrusted inside, giving your virgin pussy a stretch as he rubbed your clit to help you loosen up.

"pretty doll. you're mine, you hear that? so pretty, all for me" he said, a tinge of sadist in his voice but you didn't cared. you could feel the head of his cock barging into your insides as you felt yourself drowning, tongue lolled out in pure lust. "damn it! so pretty, all broken for me!" sanzu grunted, adding his pace as your thighs cramped and your cunt tighten. "cumming!" you joyfully announced as sanzu pulled out his cock, spraying white cum on your panties.

he smiled with satisfaction with your dazed face, as you twitched and babbled words. "haruu.. haru.." you mumbled. he kissed your forehead, softly caressing your body. "you did well, baby"

[mesetacadre]

How did you start your political life or more specifically, how did you learn about communism and made it part of your life? I'd love to learn more about communism and how I could help the world and people but I feel like I'm too stupid for that and I just generally don't know where to start, especially since I'm afraid even socialism will fail and hurt people more than help. Sorry for this message but thanks in advance if you decide to answer!

Around the time I began to come out of a year-long+ depressive period, I began to seriously "get into" politics. I suspect one of the reasons which triggered such a long and severe depressive period was the beginnings of a political consciousness, I intuited something was wrong with the world in a fundamental way, especially the education system, but did not have any knowledge or will to get at that more concretely. I did latch on a lot to that "don't go to school" viral video, especially the part about how it hadn't fundamentally changed since the industrial revolution.

The first thing I found after I stopped wanting to kill myself so constantly was anarchism, actually, and specifically vaush videos. I know. but I did start reading some things, like the conquest of bread, and some more "competent" political theory content than vaush, I did really like the idea of market socialism and coops. To my credit, I also encountered georgism and even I could tell it was pretty stupid. Anyhow, I never really was convinced on anarchism, on a fundamental level. I knew the talking points, the common arguments, that jazz, but it was more a superficial belief rather than a core one. After like 6 months of this I decided to contact the party I am now, I had encountered them a couple months earlier but kinda chickened out. The will to do something more than watch vaush and be opinionated about US politics eventually prevailed and I contacted the party, and they were very patient in actually educating me, giving me some responsibility, and in the years since then I've continued to be educated in practice and theory. Generally I'm glad by trajectory wasn't like some other young people in my position that I encountered, who went from fascist to right-libertarian to US democrat in a matter of months, those people wear their lack of principles like a badge of honor.

Anyway, about your other questions, there is no such thing as being too dumb for communism, it's rather a question of a will to learn and a decent enough offline organization with which to apply some principles to your context. Theory is extremely deep, for sure, but there is no minimum theory requirement to start to get organized. This perception exists because often, the only communists who organize as such explicitly are, frankly put, massive nerds, and it gives off the impression that you need to have read all the basics before doing anything. That isn't true.

I get your concern about hurting people, I think it's a legitimate doubt to have, and one that can only really be resolved with an actual 1-1 conversation and not this format, but succinctly, I'd tell you that already, millions of people suffer and thousands die every day from causes related to the oppression intertwined with the capitalist mode of production, especially imperialism. It has killed throughout history exponentially more people than any army could ever do, even the most genocidal and cruel army you could imagine. Isn't the opportunity to end all of this worth the risk of failing? The capitalist class will oppress our organization regardless of what we do, a failed uprising is more of an excuse to clamp down on our class, and less of a cause in itself.

[onboardsorasora]

Sora, hear me out. What do you think about MobWife!Daniel AU?

Bestie... I feel like you knew I was trying to sidestep this and you put it in my path like a rock or a banana peel for me to trip over. I know you did! you know what? I saw it and I still tripped because I am clumsy!

So far I don't have many thots on mob wife Daniel, only like a visual vibe. I wish I could draw or do digital art because I think he would be breathtaking. either way, here is some of my vibe written down.

Mob wife Daniel would 1000% be Renault era Daniel. There’s just a level of cunt he served in 2019 that cannot be spoken about enough. Gucci all day, because he is a Gucci boy. He wears his fave rings and chains all the time. He’s always dressed so nicely– even if it's a big tshirt and shorts. He always looks put together and fuckable.

He’d be married to Christian, he got married young like a good Italian boy to someone who would take care of him. And Christian does take care of him, Daniel knows about the business but he doesn’t get his hands dirty. He’s an unknown secret keeper, he knows where the safehouses are and there are accounts in his name in case the feds try anything.

He’s also fucking Max, his new bodyguard.

Christian takes care of all of his needs and Max takes care of the ones Christian forgets about. 

Christian knows about Max– he has eyes everywhere– but Christian wants Daniel to be happy, and if this makes him happy then so be it. Besides, Max is a ruthless killer so he also wants to keep him happy.

They’d probably argue about dumb shit, and Daniel isn’t afraid to get loud because he knows Christian won’t hurt him. Because Max won’t let him. It’s a fucked up polycule where Daniel gets everything he wants– as he should.

I imagine one of the arguments is like at dinner time and Christian is complaining about how someone never did a good job with keeping a hit quiet and Daniel is annoyed because he didn’t want to hear about it because they had better things to talk about– like going on a trip.

“Christian please! All day I watched Marta slave over this dinner and all you can talk about his fuckin Jev. Look, we made your favourite! Did you even like notice that? No! Jeepers!” Daniel throws his napkin down and gets up, his chains glint in the soft light. Christian stares at the long line of his throat and the small hollow of his clavicle. Christian leans back in his chair and rests an elbow on the arm.

“Are you finished?”

“No! Because you promised– just like you promised me a vacation but here we fuckin’ are.” Daniel puts his hands on his hips. Max continues eating his meal between them.

“Where do you want to go?” Christian asks, because it was easier to give Daniel what he truly wanted. 

“You said we’d go to Seychelles. I even bought new swimsuits.” Daniel doesn’t exactly whine, but he does pout and bat his eyelashes. Max bites back his snort, Christian catches it of course.

“How’d they look?” Christian asks Max, nodding over to him. 

“You’d like them.” Max confirms. He doesn’t need to tell Christian that Daniel sucked his dick while trying them on. 

“Put them on for me tonight, if I like em we can go to Seychelles.” Christian bargains, he watches the slow grin that takes over Daniel’s beautiful face. Daniel saunters over and kisses Christian filthily before walking away. Christian, of course, swats his ass as he goes.

Of course Daniel gets what he wants and Christian’s assistant books the trip. Christian might be always busy, but he makes time for Daniel. They don’t always fuck, but when they do, Daniel is a docile dove afterward. Because Christian knows how Daniel likes to be fucked, he knows what makes his wife happy. 

part 2?

[desceros]

You & GB are RUINING me with your blurple villain Leo au How dare you sirs?! You've turned me absolutely feral a slobbering bitey mess /pos

Unfortunately for you activating my hyperfixation also means activating my obsessive brain spinning... Questions be upon ye!!!

Did Lamb-chan grow up with Donnie? How did she first meet villain!Leo? What did she do/say that flipped Leo from "you're a pretty dumb innocent little lamb huh" to "you're *mine* I am keeping you forever"? How did Donnie react the first time Lamb-chan came home smelling like Leo? Is that what snapped his control, the moment his instincts drove him to finally (thoroughly) demonstrate just how well he can take care of her? How did Leo react the next time he saw Lamb-chan & she smelled like Donnie?

I humbly submit these questions in the hopes that you may see fit to give me any crumbs nay even specks of delicious brain food that can be spared 🙏 pls & ty 🙏🙏

[after i gush for twenty minutes about how this is all their fault for enabling me] oh man i love questions

EDIT THIS GOT SO LONG. OH MY GOD. IM PUTTING IT UNDER A CUT also hi @gbao3 <3 please add your thoughts to this as well

so it aaaaaaall started with this post, with leo being the wolf and donnie being the sheep dog.

as such, you're childhood friends with donnie, since sheep dogs grow up with their sheep. i imagine he's basically always been a little in love with you, but it hasn't always been... ah... healthy? like. when he was young it was that kind of 'when we grow up let's get married bc we're best friends' love. and then as a teenager it became kind of an obsession. doesn't the world know how important you are to him? can't you see how dangerous it can be without him to protect you?

it's during this stage that he's maybe a bit self-destructive with it, literally at one point putting himself between you and another mutant, ending up with him having the scars on his shell. he mellows out a little as he grows older, to the point where now it's just a fact of his life that he's in love with you and there won't ever be anyone else; it's less of a fire inside of him and more just. yeah. duh? of course i love them and would die for them? zzzzz next question. but he's still very much the kind of person who asks you your itinerary down to the fifteen minute mark when you leave so he can make sure to know exactly when you'll be home.

i suspect that as lamb-chan, as much as you also love donnie, that can get a little, uh. overbearing. to say the least. i think that you have a habit of slipping out from time to time (since you live at the lair where donnie is always always always watching), just to breathe, to get away from it a little. the world looks a little different without donatello at your side, after all, and you're a little curious. so maybe you wander a little too far, sometimes.

and leo. god. leo is a breath of something that feels like air, but you're not sure what it is.

i don't have the exact first meeting pinned down in my head, but i do have this mental image of him sitting on a fire escape, one knee bent up to his chest and the other hanging down the side, a toothy grin on his face as he mockingly asks what a soft little thing like you is doing on this side of town. and you see him and you're just like, oh. he. he looks a lot like donnie. so you're a lot less scared than you probably should be, and that—that fascinates him. what kind of world do you live in where he's all but a perfect picture of the underbelly of the world, and you smile at him?

what would it take for you to look at him like everyone else does?

so he invites you to come back again. and you, well, you're just like. wow!! friend shaped!! so you do. but this time leo's not on the fire escape. he's on the ground, and he circles you a bit like a predator would. he's looking for you to be uncomfortable; to be afraid. but he made one small mistake; the shape of his smirk, now that he's close, is eerily familiar. it looks so much like donnie's, you could swear the two were twins. and it makes it so, so hard to be anything other than curious. mikey and raph don't look so similar to donnie, after all. why does leo?

so it continues like that until one day, leo says something and you laugh. and that—that hits him like a bludgeon to the chest. it's not like any laugh he's ever had directed at him before. and when you open your eyes, wiping away the amused tears, your gaze is so fucking soft. in that moment, leo realizes that he's hungry. and you—you look like you'd taste so. good.

meanwhile donnie is like. no really. where the fuck are you going. and one day he follows you and who the fuck is this guy with his arms around you. (but i think i'm going to leave that one for another day bc i have a nice one-shot in my drafts folder about how that'd play out)

[von-blutdurst]

behold, my tf2 oc

more info about him below the cut!!

meet the artist! his real name is oliver pick and he is a sarky little bloke from the city of britsol in england. after a run in with merasmus left his art supplies cursed/enchanted he can now use them either as projectile or melee weapons. mann co. soon gained knowledge of his abilities and hired him to fight in the gravel war alongside the rest of the cast. my bf helped me a lot with his lore ^w^

he is an attack based class, mainly dealing up close hits with a giant paintbrush/pencil or widespread attacks (eg. splattering acidic paint everywhere). i don’t have any illustrated depictions of how his attacks work so sorry. his art supplies have an “attack mode” and a “resting mode”. what this means is when they are in “rest mode” they appear as normal art supplies and when in “attack mode” they enlarge or become more hostile looking. all of his art supplies typically have bright green paint on them to signify their connection to merasmus and glow bright green when they’re preparing to engage in “attack mode”.

in terms of his personality, he is quite introverted and awkward. his only real friend in the base is scout, because he’s one of the younger mercs and artist finds it difficult to converse with the older mercs. he’s 19 years old, so, pretty young compared to the rest of them. here is a more in depth list of what his relationships with the others are like:

scout - pretty close with him in a brotherly way. they tend to shit talk the others most of the time and scout likes to ask him to draw stuff.

soldier - artist is actually kind of afraid of soldier, mainly because he dreads to imagine what would happen if solly found out he was british.

pyro - artist and pyro share a common interest, being art, so they get along fine. pyro likes to put stickers on artist’s art supplies and artist likes to paint on pyro’s mask.

engie - he really really really likes to help engie draft his schematics. engie typically lets him do a few lines at a time before taking over again, because artist is a dumb kid who shouldn’t be trusted with drafting schematics in his eyes.

heavy - heavy tries to take on a more father-like role with artist because he worries for the little baby man. being faced with so much atrocities at such a young age cannot be good for him. artist likes spending time with heavy, playing catch and other such games. he doesn’t really understand why heavy’s so worried about him though.

demoman - demo and artist get along fairly well. artist doesn’t really interact with him often but every time he does it’s always a positive experience. demo typically offers him a drink like that cool uncle at family reunions and he gifts him some shrapnel from the battle field sometimes.

spy - artist hates spy. point blank. even thinking about him makes him wanna throw up. do not ever mention the frenchman to him. ever.

sniper - artist doesn’t really like sniper either. he finds the whole concept of jarate weird and gross. his first death was due to the enemy team’s sniper so there’s also just some mild resentment there.

medic - artist is unbelievably terrified of medic. he’s afraid of the things he’s capable of doing but chooses not to. he’s always avoiding him, even on the battle field. this leads to artist having a very high death streak compared to the others.

so yeah that’s a somewhat-not-really brief overview of my silly little guy!! if you have any questions about him i’m more than willing to answer! thanks for listening to my mad ramblings!!!

[intheholler]

i’m not from appalachia but i am from the south and the accent is definitely dieing (i am fucking determined to bring back this spelling) … rarely ever hear a young person with a heavy twang anymore, a light one sometimes yea. so sad its perceived as negative … nearly every time you see someone portray a dumb person in a joke they take on this stereotypical accent and its quite harmful really and they don’t even know … anyway sorry for coming in yer inbox and rambling but i’m interested in hearing what ya have to say about it

1) 2024 will officially be the year we bring back 'dieing' for good. god willing and the creek don't rise

2) 'what i have to say about it?' hahah *gestures broadly toward this ramblin blog*

no but in all seriousness, i believe the reason you don't hear that molasses-thick twang anymore is because young people in appalachia have better access to the outside world from an incredibly young age in a way we didn't even a few decades ago. used to be it required heading down the mountain to see what's what, and most can't afford that til they're older, if even then.

so now, we are taught younger and younger as impressionable babies to be ashamed of ourselves and by extension our accents, either from embarrassment of the stereotypes of where we're from, or because we're afraid people are gonna think we're "stupid" and not take us seriously.

without ever having to leave home, kids now can peer over the mountain sooner and see how people mock them and their accents. it doesn't cost any money to get online and see everyone calling you an inbred toothless hillbilly, to start feeling shame for something you didn't even know was being ridiculed--you--and work from them on to suppress your accent.

i was eight or nine the first time it was made known to me that people outside of home thought the way i talked made me "sound stupid" and i found out in person by a well-meaning family member. literally that same day i started trying to "talk normal" from then on out. i'm a young millennial, so internet was available to me but not in the way it is now. i can't imagine how it is for kids today.

i had a THICK accent as a kid. now, you can barely hear it even though i'm actively and consciously trying to relax the code switching muscle now that i am loving these parts of me again.

to your second point, i once saw someone say something (much more eloquently, and it's been years, so) along the lines of "tell a joke about someone you think is 'stupid'. do it aloud. what accent did you default to when you mocked them? now ask yourself why you did that."

only, no one wants to ask themselves that question. and so here we are.

i believe that that shame and mockery we have been wrongly saddled with from childhood is likely one of the biggest contributing factors as to why you hear a good strong accent less and less. and it fucking sucks.

3) come 'ramble' anytime!! love talking to yall and hearing your thoughts

[wormwrites]

I just can't get the idea of soulmate!jason where you share scars out of my head. Jason is a canvas of scars. We all find them beautiful and wouldn't judge him even if we were held at gun point. But imagine you were getting those scars at the same time he was... it would be hard. Of course you are worried about your soulmate, but when you wake up with a permanent, very purposeful J branded onto your face, can you really tell me you wouldn't be embarrassed to go outside? Afraid of meeting your soulmate who seems to be either a criminal or in a very dangerous victim situation? Would you not be even a little angry that now your face is ruined? (I know there is makeup, but we are ignoring that for a second) Yes, you share these scars with your soulmate and somewhere along the line you'd find peace with them. But in the moment when you look in the mirror and find an autopsy scar... I can only imagine what you would feel. Oh, and poor Jason. He would never be able to forgive himself. He probably wouldn't even realize he has a soulmate because if you get a scar he wouldn't notice it beside all of his. This isn't a request. I just wanted to share my thoughts and hear yours. I'm asking a few different creators so feel free to ask for another person's opinion as well!

oh my god, anon, ur brain!!! i’m sure this is messy but 1: i love requests and 2: i just started typing most of this late last night

((i also saw a few other respond to this but i purposely didnt read them so if anything is similar its witchcraft or smthing idk))

i think the smaller robin scars sort of annoy you, when you’re younger. you don’t see how the trade off of your small acne scars is fair to these constant random but mostly well healed ones scars are. you have a running joke with your closest friends about how you have a lecture for your soulmate whenever you meet them.

you’re a dumb kid, teenager at best, but when you wake up one morning, dozen of burn scars, scars of a deep beating, and a harsh ‘j’ plastered on your face, you have a breakdown for both of you. so scared for whatever your soulmates been through, when, a day or so later, autopsy scars appear, you go numb. you aren’t an idiot, you know what those scars are from.

you’ve never heard of scars from a soulmate post death, but you don’t know what else they could mean, and no more scars show up after that.

how do you deal with being so young knowing you had a soulmate who had a hard life cut short, and now you’re doomed to be alone forever? maybe you go numb, just float through life, dissociating. or maybe you devote yourself to your studies, maybe you work to help kids in tough situations like your almost love. maybe somewhere in between.

i think if you live in gotham, you have a small feeling why there was a j, i think maybe you learn some makeup skills, use things like cosmetic wax and a precise foundation routine to cover it, you can’t afford the fancy kind of plastic surgeons who specialize in soulmate scars.

you think you’re done, accept this is your life.

then years later, more scars start appearing? precise, dangerous scars? given only the bare minimum medical care? you think you must be broken. you start spending even more time with your therapist, maybe start researching even more.

one of these late nights at the library you’re walking home in gotham, you’d lost track of time but the sweet redheaded librarian named barbara reminded you to leave before it got too too late, still, you live in a rough part of town, and batman’s been busy lately with this new crime lord, you don’t care either way, too trapped in your own world of hurt and confusion, you don’t even realize what you’d walked into.

jason never gave much thought to his soulmate, he’d never even noticed any scars, thought maybe he didn’t even have one. definitely didn’t have one after his death.

he’d stalking after batman one night, both are aware the other one knows, but they arent confronting each other tonight, and when they turn onto a certain street he gets an odd feeling and he suddenly finds himself in front of of you,

and hes speechless, his world crashing down so quickly, because all he can see is the ‘j’ on your your face.

jason never gave much thought to his soulmate, and now he literally walked face first into them, and nothing is the same for either of you from there on out.

[secretsocietyofgamejumpers]

Sparks Fly: Chapter 1

“Ayo, Tapper!” An enormous hand signaled the harried bartender over to the counter. “Let’s have another round!”

Tapper sighed as he slid mug after mug of root beer to the large assembly of space marines. “Slow down, will ya? You’re already on round five!”

“Well, time flies when you’re havin’ fun.” A smirk spread across Private Loya’s chiseled face. He ran a hand through what was left of his blond hair and flashed a cheeky grin. “Just wait ‘til the ladies get a load of me.”

“Puh-lease, Loya.” Private Marco chuckled. “They’re lookin’ for men, not cinder blocks.”

As Loya scowled, Corporal Kohut rolled his eyes, shaking his head in embarrassment. Was he the only one here who wasn’t a complete idiot? It was hard to set a good example for the troops when this was the example they set for everyone else.

“Pack the pixels, Dough Boy.” Corporal Kersavage huffed. “Girls don’t go wild for 8-bit has-beens. They’re lookin’ for the full 512 bits.” He stroked his five-o-clock shadow with a smug smile.

“W-what girls?” A confused voice blurted out.

In perfect synchronization, every eye in the bar turned to the late arrival, and every voice groaned, “Hi, Markowski…”

“Looks like ol’ ‘Kowski’s outta the loop,” exclaimed Private Mac. “Musta missed the big announcement!”

“Yeah…he was too busy runnin’ away. Thought that Cy-Bug was still chasin’ ya, eh, Markowski?” jeered Marco.

The poor private turned the color of a Super Mushroom. “I—I wasn’t running from the bug!” He protested weakly. “I just had to…had to go to the bathroom!”

“Uh, Hero’s Duty doesn’t have a bathroom,” pointed out Loya smugly.

“I know that!” Markowski blurted out. “I had to go so bad I…I wasn’t thinking straight!”

“Sure, Markowski. Sure.” Kersavage rolled his eyes.

Kohut motioned to the seat next to him. “Markowski, our game’s getting an update,” he explained evenly. “We’re going to have a new unit of soldiers joining us. And they’re all going to be ladies.”

A grin spread across Markowski’s face. “Maybe Calhoun’ll stop calling us that!”

“Yeah, and maybe Bowser’ll finally marry Princess Peach!” chortled van Pelt.

“At least Bowser gets to spend time with a gal,” sighed Private Spears. “The only chick we’ve got is off limits!”

“Who’d wanna date the Sarge?” Kersavage erupted in laughter, and the room followed his lead. Even the calm, collected Kohut couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Not even I would put myself through that.”

“I sure hope the new gals are easy on the eyes,” Marco said wistfully.

“I call dibs on the redhead!” Loya exclaimed.

“The brunette’ll be mine!” Spears chimed in.

“And ‘Kowski can have the blonde!” whooped van Pelt.

Markowski sighed. Of course his fellow soldiers thought his perfect match was a “dumb blonde”.

But van Pelt’s quip had another effect on Markowski. He began to wonder…did he actually have a chance with one of the new girls?

He knew he wasn’t the model soldier…his fellow marines didn’t let him forget that fact. But Markowski thought of himself as a pretty nice guy—he wouldn’t hurt a fly! (Mostly because he was afraid it would bite his head off.) And no one could deny that he was sensitive!

The marines continued their boisterous banter. “Ey, Kohut,” Kersavage called out, “Which one of us do ya think is the best kisser?”

Kohut facepalmed as Loya and Kersavage puckered up. Markowski wasn’t impressed, either.

All these goofballs seem to care about is how good the new girls are gonna look. But they’re not some kinda dress-up dolls—they’re soldiers, too!

Kohut glanced up at the young private, an encouraging smile on his face. “So, Private, you got a dream girl?”

Markowski closed his eyes, imagining his ideal girlfriend. He could see the two of them geeking out over old superhero comics together, trying to learn new steps inside Dance Dance Revolution, laughing as they tumbled into Frogger’s swamp together…

“So, ‘Kowski,” Kersavage exclaimed, “what’s she like?”

“She’s smart…funny…a little geeky…” Markowski trailed off, continuing on his daydreamed date.

“Is she pretty?” teased van Pelt.

Markowski blushed. “Well, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she looked like…I was more thinking about what she’d…be like…”

The room erupted in boisterous, flabbergasted laughter. Only Kohut refrained from hooting and hollering.

Markowski slumped his shoulders in shame as the cackling crowd of marines began to disperse out the doors of Tapper’s. He glanced at Kohut, who gave the private an apologetic pat on the shoulder as he exited.

Markowski sat down, took a swig of his root beer and sighed. He stared into the dissipating foam of his drink.

I sure hope you’re out there, dream girl…

[clatoera]

Your clove and glimmer bestie hcs have prompted me to ask if u have any bro hcs for Cato and Marvel or any bestie hcs for Cashbaria before they realised they were in looove

Alright. The bro-iest of bros. These two Mfers would have a podcast if someone let them (Noone lets them). They'd have a talk show if they could. They are like..such gremlins and it comes from the fact that neither of them got to be like normal teenage boys. And so, as a result, as young adult men..they do in fact act like teenage boys.

1.Theres alway a food HC in these because food is so instrumental as a symbol in panem and amongst my writing in this au. That being said for them theres no like..meaning of like healing or anything here. Not with them. And thats because at least once (multiple times) they have definitely made dumb decisions with food. Think trying to eat as many pizzas at they can in 45 minutes. Think "think they need 100 chicken nuggets for the two of them thats a normal amount right" (wrong). Think raw cookie dough as a snack because "it's the same thing as cooked cookies, just colder (wrong). They're just over grown teenage boys.

2. On that exact same note, don't take them to the beach. Just don't. Marvel WILL get so severely sunburned he can't move. They WILL try to drown each other in the ocean by seeing who can hold their breath under water longer (Cato). They WILL chase a crab and and one of them will get pinched by it. Do not add Finnick to the mix. It does not end well. They do almost die. Every single time. They have a good time though.

3. Cato will never think anything is funnier than making fun of Marvel and what Cato imagines is a very very very very very very very boring and mediocre sex life. Enjoy it, Missionary Marvel (and he WILL thank you very much. He's HAPPY).

4. Marvel's girls, bless their hearts, are arguably the least coordinated toddlers anyone ever meets. They trip all the time. They walk into things. Cato absolutely is floored by the lack of athleticism. Eventually, they get put into little dance classes and they're fine and honestly the cutest lil dancy babies. That being said, Cato does have a son on the opposite end, EXTREME athleticism. Marvel gets to live vicariously through him. He's More athletic than Marvel. Marvel is being beat at most sports by like..an 8 year old. By the time he is twelve he is physically bigger than Marvel. Marvel almost gets a broken arm from this preteen at least once. He loves it.

5. Marvel never lets Cato know a moment of peace when he finds out he is afraid of dogs.

6. Cato does in fact threaten him in that very precarious first few years after the war, because of Glimmer and how absolutely broken she was in thirteen. The things he saw involving Glimmer actually haunt him.

7. Their messages between each other are a war crime in and of itself.

I love these two. They're just little guys. Silly little guys who have killed people, many many people!

I just posted Cashbaria HCs on the post RIGHt before this! I'll link them here but i'm gonna keep this post for the silly gooses.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

A liveblog of a rewatch of my favorite lesbian film (Fucking Åmål)

Agnes having a "secret diary" on her computer it's so 90s.

"I am subtle about my crush on Elin" Meanwhile her diary:

It's so fucking funny how the first scene with Elin is her just POURING MILK OVER HER SISTER BECAUSE SHE DARED TO TAKE THE LAST OBOY (that's a chocolate drink) She's so impulsive and just says and does stuff all the time.

Everyone has known someone like Elin. And she was often the really annoying girl irl, but she's also just so young and naive and you can see there's just something else behind all of that.

Agnes' mom wanting her to have a party and AGNES DOESN'T WANT TOOOO AAAAUGGGHHH AND SHE DOES THIS BECAUSE OF HER MOM

Johan is so fucking awkward. He really tries to hit on Elin and she just disses him. Literally she doesn't want a ride and he's like "but you can carry the helmet if you want" HELP

NOT THE GIRAFFE NECK GIRL

Her name is Camilla but I call her giraffe neck girl because

Agnes... girl... stop doodling Elin's name you're not subtle

Victoria is so deeply afraid Agnes is gonna hit on her. Like. Agnes: So the french word for "bus"? Victoria: PUSS?! (this is the swedish word for "kiss") Agnes: ?? Agnes: Bus. Victoria: OH

Elin's lines in the cafeteria always cracks me up so much

Tfw you're grounded because you "accidentally had no pants on"

Listen like. I understand Agnes' mom, she just wants her daughter to have some friends. But she really does not understand her.

Oh no not the ableism... yikes

Agnes :((

Agnes litting up when she finds out Jessica and Elin have come over awwwwwwww

Not her mom giving them wine????

AGNES' COMPUTER IS ON AGNES HONEY GET A PASSWORD good thing Elin didn't see her diary cause.

Elin hearing the rumour about Agnes being a lesbian and her immediate thought is "Cool. I'm gonna be that too".

The 90s homophobia is strong, but some of these lines are so funny for no reason?? like?? Elin: What do I get if I kiss her? Jessica: AIDS, probably

Agnes' reaction to getting kissed by Elin isn't "omg I got kissed by my crush" it's shock, it's "what the fuck happened", and then when Elin and Jessica laugh and run away she just sits there. Not knowing how to feel. It's realistic.

Noooo Elin feeling so bad about it immediately and wanting to go back to apologize :(

Elin: *vomits* Johan: Fuck, you're so hot Elin:

Honestly same because who tf says this after you just have thrown up

Also how is this not a meme:

Fuck the self harm scene... aaaaaaaa I always forget it exists

Elin throwing rocks at the window :3

Ok I decided to translate my favorite exchange cause it's sooo

Tag your ship

Omg their talk about what they wanna be when they grow up <33

Elin: Do you think I am pretty enough to be a model?

Elin: Why are you so weird. Sorry for asking, but... you are weird. Agnes: You're weird, too. Elin: I want to be weird. Or... not weird, but I don't wanna be like everyone else. This exchange <33 They can be weird together

"It's just because you live in fucking Åmål" OOOOOOO

Elin is here with her dumb questions and Agnes is just

Let's go spontaneous trip to Stockholm woooooo

Imagine what would've happened if they actually went to Stockholm. THAT would have been a different movie.

AGNES GIVING HER A LITTLE KISS BEFORE GOING HOME

Not Jessica eating up all the chips because "otherwise their mom will wonder" and Elin is like "?? can't we be home without having eaten chips?"

ELIN MOANING IN HER SLEEP

Victoria is such a savage tbh.

"Good luck with Elin"

AAAAAAAAAAA JESSICA STOP BEING SO NOSY LET HER CALL HER!!

And Agnes will wonder why Elin isn't calling :( And Elin just WANTS to call but her nosy (but rightfully protective) sister is in the way :(

AND NOW ELIN HAS TO PRETEND SHE'S INTO JOHAN

Elin: Mom, I'm a lesbian Her mom: What?! Elin: Elin: Elin: Nah, I'm just joking

Not the random 30 second masturbation scene?? I mean this film has a very realistic portrayal of teenagers but. Well. At least it was just a zoom in on her eyes and not much else.

God living in a small town like these... everyone knows everyone...

NOT ELIN HANGING UP WHEN AGNES CALLS NOOOO her internalized homophobia :(

Agnes' dad sees so well that something is wrong and she can't tell himmmm

Elin: I wanna be a psychologist Jessica: YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT

So I know Jessica is just looking out for her, they kind of only have each other, but also she needs to give her some fucking privacy

Jessica: You get everything you want Elin: WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT? WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT I WANT? THE ANGST

Agnes' mom reading her diary AAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHYYYY

You know there's nothing to do in the small town when the teenagers play BINGO

Elin calling Johan from the OTHER ROOM to break up with him

Not the "you can't stand on an A-well because it means bad"

"No, I'm not feeling anything. No anal sex."

"I'm in love with someone else" AAAAAAA

THE CINEMATIC MIRROR WHEN AGNES HAS BEEN STARRING AT HER SCHOOL PHOTO ALL MOVIE AND NOW ELIN DOES THE SAME

Elin wanting to throw rocks at the window again and BREAKING THE WINDOW AND THE MUSIC JUST ABRUPTLY STOPS

TOILET CONFRONTATION LET'S GOOOO

Elin is so bad with words but god she tries... honey...

UGH and everyone outside banging on the door thinking she has a boy in there.

In this movie, no one comes out of the closet, they come out of the school restroom

"Ta da! Here is me, and this is my new girl! Could you move? We're gonna go and fuck!"

Wrote history!

"Fucking" means drinking oboy lmao

Elin just infodumping how she has too much chocolate powder in her milk

I really wonder what happens later. When they go back to school the next morning. When Agnes goes home to her mom who has read her diary. When Jessica finds out. But at the same time, it ends so sweetly. Right now it's only them and no one else.

This movie is really cheaply made. It's shot like it's some secret person recording these kids. It's awkward zooms and hectic cuts. But it also adds to the charm. It makes it feel... real. Like we're seeing them right now in these moments, not putting up an act.

Also, campy movies are the best movies :D

[mysteriouslover1516]

IMAGINE:

I took care of it.

The young hacker sighed as he sent the message, he hoped it would give MC at least a small sense of comfort. He had already noticed that she was being somewhat cyber bullied by strangers. Oh god, Lilly. What did you do? What a mess you created.

That's great

MC was safe for now, at least as safe as he could manage. He himself; however, that was another story. He needed to start packing, time was of the essence, it was time to go on the run again.

But you didn't threaten her, did you?

Jake paused, packing had to wait. There was no way he was going to leave while that awful thought was being entertained inside MC's head. Why would she even think that? Didn't she trust him? Didn't she know him, know that he would never do something like that?

What? No, of course not. I talked to her.

No, of course she didn't know. It was like he was pulling her in just enough so that he could ultimately push her away once more. It was an utter mess of confusion, of hidden feelings, vulnerability, secrets, and self-preservation; and he was the cause of it.

Please don't lie to me

"I'm not lying, MC." He muttered, one hand finding refuge in his black, wavy hair; slightly tugging on the strands in frustration.

That was way too fast

He sighed, what would he have to say to make her believe him? Despite his mistakes, he was a man of integrity, or at least he thought so, hoped so, knew so.

I am telling the truth MC. I filled her in on something. One day I am going to tell you too, I promise you that.

Yes, Lilly was now in possession of somewhat slightly incriminating evidence against him. Something that would thoroughly involve him in Hannah's disappearance. Something that would finally state the connection he had to the missing Donfort girl.....

I've been hearing that since forever.....Jake, please.

Jake groaned, Ugh, she was right. MC deserved to know the truth, He didn't know what would become of himself, what his fate held, whether he would ever get the chance to tell her in the future...it had to be now. Yes, MC was right, once again undeniably right. Damn.

MC, I am wanted by the government.

Probably not the most tactful way to start this conversation, but at least it was now out in the open. He felt the sudden urge to close his eyes, hesitating to read MC's response. What would she say?

You are WHAT?

Jake's fingers flew across the keyboard. He needed to reassure her, he couldn't lose her trust, he couldn't lose her, not now, not ever.

Yes. But I am one of the good guys. If you can call it that. I meddled in some things that were never supposed to get out into the public.

Why haven't you ever told me?

The hacker stopped, was she really asking him that? Wasn't it obvious? If he had started it off as "Hey, I'm considered a criminal that is wanted by the government, I need you to trust me" she would have literally flipped out. Come on, MC. You're smarter than this, I know you are, don't play dumb with me.

Because I was afraid that you would stop trusting me.

Yes, understandably so

Jake sighed, he was getting off topic, he needed to focus. Time was waning, he had no doubt that the FBI was already hot on his trail.

In any case, Lilly has published some serious information about me now. And any piece of information about me, no matter how small of a detail it is, Could help the people that are after me find out where I am.

That sounds awful

It was awful.......but to be honest.....he found himself no longer caring.

To be honest....Ever since I met you....I actually have hope again. And I thank you for that, MC.

MC made him comfortable, made him forget his present circumstances, made the trauma of his past fade out of view as the time and the conversations with her increased. He found himself falling, falling for her. And just as he was finally coming to the realization of that fact, it was too late to tell her, not now at least. They had more pressing matters to attend to, such as.....

As much as I regret it, I will now have to make some arrangements to ensure my safety first. I have to assume that the people hunting for me are hot on my heels by now. They may even be close to finding me. You might be on for you own for some time.

What, you are leaving me hanging?!

A small, dark chuckle escaped his lips. It certainly did seem like it, but no, he would never, besides.....he physically and mentally couldn't. There was no way in heck he was going to let her go.

No, of course I won't do that. If you really need me, I am going to be there for you. From now on you are going to have to take the lead.

Ok

Another sigh filled his ears, he hated this. He hated having to leave her like this. A while back he had told her he found it hard to pick up on emotions over text, but right now, he could sense it perfectly. MC was upset, fearful, perhaps even angry at Lilly, maybe even angry at him himself; but deep down he could tell she cared, deeply.

I know that I can always count on you. You've shown it to me more than once.

He paused, then once realizing she wasn't going to reply, he immediately started to type. He hoped his next message would make her laugh, at least smile a little bit, ease her sadness. He didn't want to have to leave her with a heavy heart; even though he knew that was an impossible wish to have.

And something good comes out of this whole thing: I won't be able to read your private chats anymore.

No response, damn. She was taking this hard, wasn't she? Ugh. He wished he could take more time to comfort her, to ease her nerves; if only he had the time........as it was right now he needed to flee, and the time to rewind back to about ten minutes ago.

My time is running out.

MC needed to focus, she needed to continue on in their investigation during his absence. She was the key to the puzzle, he needed to be able to depend on her.

Do you still remember, what our last lead was?

Yeah, I remember. The mysterious "Jennifer"

A faint smile flitted across his lips, in spite of all the chaos, she still remembered. Further proving to him that she could indeed keep a level head, despite the circumstances.

Right. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to look into it any further. But I think you are just as capable of doing it as I am.

For real?

Ahh, there was her sense of humor. That emojie.....what even was that? A sweaty grin? Ohhhh, wait, a nervous laugh.....yes, that was it.

Yes. Of course. You have five friends from Duskwood. Thomas, Cleo, Jessy, Richy, and Dan. I want you to choose one of them and then ask them about our mysterious Jennifer.

And you don't care who I choose?

Jake bit his lip, of course he cared. He hoped MC would choose someone who had been a resident there for years, perhaps even their whole childhood, someone who had lived there when the "terrible incident" took place ten years ago. But who would she choose? MC was very close to Jessy, did that mean she would probably ask her? Or would she ask Cleo? Richy maybe? God, he hoped she would refrain from asking Dan, what an idiot, ugh. And Thomas, hmmmm, Jake wouldn't choose him for sure if it was up to him....But it wasn't up to him, it was up to MC, he had placed the responsibility into her hands. And he trusted her, he whole-heartedly trusted her.

Let's just say, I trust your judgement. Just like you have to trust the person that you are going to choose.

It was time to say goodbye, damn. Usually goodbyes didn't faze him, because he would never allow himself to once again get close to someone, letting him avoid the painful, bittersweet goodbye. But ever since meeting MC, his world had shifted, she had pulled the rug from right underneath his feet. What had she done to him?

I have to go now. But I am going to contact you again as soon as I can.

Fingers paused over the keyboard, when would he be able to text her again? He hoped it would be soon.......he would make it be soon.

Hey, Jake?

Yes?

A small panic swarmed inside his head, he could feel his cheeks flush red. Was she going to say I love you? What would he say????

Thank you....for confiding in me despite all this

Phew. A relieved but somewhat disappointed sigh escaped his lips, god he was hormonal. He had never experienced such fast mood swings as he had ever since he met MC. Damn, he had it bad.

Thank you for never making me regret confiding in you.

Forcing himself to log off, he quickly set to work tearing his computer and work station down. Would he ever be able to rest without having to look over his shoulder? Would his life always be laced with risk and uncertainty? Was there a happily ever after in store for him? God he hoped so, he really REALLY hoped so.

[asherloki]

Here’s an idea for a fluffy Sherlock fic/ os / blurb!!

Like imagine you get rejected by your crush and you come back to Sherlock’s flat and tell him what happened and he is shocked because he finds a lot of beautiful things in you (maybe even lists them in front of you) and like he can’t comprehend who wouldn’t be infatuated by you aaaaaw! Sorry I am a big fan of friends to lovers trope hehe!

The right one

Bbc Sherlock

Fluff

I came back to 221b after a long tiring, and perhaps a sad day. After entering I saw Sherlock playing his violin, he's been swamped up with work lately. So violin keeps him cool. I put my bag in my room and then stood behind him. He had no clue, I thought. But then after he finished playing his instrument he said without even turning to me, "did you like it?"

Then he turned to me and smiled.

"How did you know I was here?" I enquired I was absolutely sure he didn't see me coming.

"I'm not an idiot" he said politely "I saw you coming from the window."

I mean obviously, this is he the smart one and I the dumb one. He was standing to the window ofcourse he saw me coming.

"Well, that's true" said I and my facial expressions changed to how it was through the day, a little sadder.

"What's wrong?" He enquired, putting his violin back.

"Nothing to be bothered, I'm okay." I replied trying hard to smile for him.

"No no, do tell me" he insisted sitting on his chair. I thought, I should talk to him about it so I sat on John's chair and said, "I had a crush you probably know ".

"Yes from your university I presume."

"And how did you know that?"

"Easy, you check out yourself in the mirror before going to university more than usual, even when you go out with your friends group you don't check yourself out that much, and you always wear the dresses that looks best on you for university. Also when you return you always smile and blush to yourself, even sometimes you daydream and don't even listen to what I say."

Well now that's an elaborate deduction I thought.

"Yes, from there, so I confessed to him, about I may have been liking him". I said.

"And?"

"He used to flirt with me you know, used to say things I needed to hear, used to always be kind and be extremely flirty, I thought he liked me too."

"What did he say?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"That those were nothing and he doesn't sees me that way, may be it's called rejection."

Sherlock and I sat in silence. A long moment of pause then he sighed and said, "why did he even flirted if he didn't feel anything?"

"I wish I knew."

"Who's this guy?"

To this I looked at him because I knew this is going to be awkward, "my.. um... My professor."

"Your WHAT?" He literally jumped from the chair to hear it.

"But don't worry he's young and ... Not much older."

"I wasn't thinking about age I was thinking about how could a professor flirt with their student and then reject like that."

He has a point though

"right but it's done now. Leave it okay."

"No, I mean how? What's not good in you, what's there in you to not to like?"

His questions made me think too, what could there be good in me?

"Like what?" I asked.

"Look at yourself, you're... I'm a man of cold reasoning and I'm unaware of everything that has something to do with emotions but you, you're beautiful. You're talented, you're writings and paintings. All of that. You're kind, I guess you've given me some of that that kindness too. I've felt more light recently, and most importantly" he paused before saying it, "my days were so dark, there was only night, with few of my friends shining like stars but you, you came as the sun, you turned my dark lifeless nights into day." He said with such passion that my mouth fell open.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Yes, you heard me, and I... I have always been afraid and have been away from Human emotions and now I know why, because when the right person comes, you can do anything, you can be anyone, even I, Sherlock Holmes, couldn't help but feel, feel affection for you."

I was stunned, what? This man felt so much and kept quiet?

"Why didn't you tell me you feel that strongly for me?"

"How could I? You're young and beautiful, you must choose someone of your age."

"You said age doesn't matter "

"Yes, not to me but I thought maybe to you it does." He said. I got up and walked towards him, cupping his face I said, "when it comes to you nothing matters, only you do."

I saw a his Lips curving into a smile and I felt a tear fell from my eye. I knew, at that very moment, that, no one will ever be able to love me, the way he does. Ever!

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Days to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna start from chapter one or read more? here’s the table of contents!

part five

❝ A LITTLE TLC ❞

SATURDAY — 2:32AM

“HEY, KIDDO. I hate to wake you… but I need to take a look at your head,” Nightwing’s soothing voice lulled Bentley out of his restful slumber, his hand trailing up and down the kid’s back gently, just as it had been in the alley. Bentley was still being held, but they weren’t outside anymore. It wasn’t near as cold. In fact, it was warm. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay with it.”

Bentley lifted his head off of Nightwing’s shoulder and rubbed his eyes, wincing softly when he touched the spot on his forehead that had been slammed into the wall. His fingers came back coated with half-dried blood. A glance back at the vigilante’s shoulder revealed that Bentley had bled all over his shoulder. A wave of anxiety washed over him, and he cringed.

“Hey there,” Nightwing smiled over at Bentley, he could see it in his peripheral, but he said nothing and rested his chin on his shoulder instead. “Can I put you on the couch?”

Bentley turned his head and glanced around the room warily. The couch in question was pushed against a barren wall, a throw blanket tossed haphazardly across one arm. A tv hung at the front of the room, and a recliner to the left of the couch. He could see the beginnings of a kitchen through a little breezeway. The lights were out, but the a few lamps around the room lit the place dimly.

Obviously Nightwing wasn’t dumb enough to take a kid to his own apartment — this had to be a safehouse. A place to lay low. It was too clean and empty to be lived in by a young man, anyways.

Bentley worked up the courage to speak, whispering a tiny: “…Just us?”

“Yep. I can take you around into the kitchen and bedroom, if you want to check for yourself,”

The child shook his head no on impulse. Muttering a quick alright, Nightwing moseyed over to the couch and sat Bentley on it ever-so-gently. He was still smiling. How did he do that all the time?

He sighed. “I’m going to get my first aid kit, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Bentley nodded as Nightwing stood back up, towering over him like a skyscraper. He couldn’t help but to shrink back into the couch. It reminded him of his father — too much of his father.

Towering over Bentley was something he had always done. His first move was always to get him on the floor, or in a chair, somewhere where he could loom over his son like a beast over its prey. That was the best time to strike, no doubt — when your prey was afraid, small, weak. And Bentley felt so small in front of his father. In front of Nightwing.

Every time someone towered over him, he got hurt.

But Nightwing exited and entered the room again, without hurting Bentley, and placed a white box on the table.

“Alrighty,” He said, crouching down in front of the couch with a soft sigh. The rain and thunder was still loud outside, and both of them were sopping wet. The child couldn’t help the cringe that twisted his features when he spotted the blood on Nightwing’s shoulder again. Somewhat smudged by the rain, but still very visible on the blue part of his suit.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, almost inaudibly. The vigilante creased his eyebrows behind his mask. Bentley pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. “I bled all over your suit.” He clarified.

Bentley could only imagine what would happen if he dared bleed on one of his father’s suits.

He readied himself for anything, eyeing Nightwing’s hands, waiting for them to fly. He buried the lower half of his face in his knees and coiled up tighter. The tighter he got, the less it hurt.

But Nightwing’s hands stayed where they were, near the coffee table. He opened the first aid kit and shuffled the contents around.

“You don’t need to apologize, kiddo,” He spoke gently, pulling a few different things out of the kit. “Believe it or not, getting a little blood on me is a pretty common occurrence.”

Bentley had to admit — that threw him for a loop. He’d done something undesirable and hadn’t got hit like he was supposed to. Like he always had.

“Oh…” Was all he whispered. What the heck was going on?

“Alright. I’m gonna start by cleaning off your forehead, if that’s okay with you. No pressure, of course,” Nightwing started, pulling open what looked like a little bag of wipes.

Bentley nodded slightly.

Nightwing went to work, gently cleaning the blood off of his forehead and face. It was alarming how much red came off on the wipe, but Bentley chose not to think about it, focusing instead on not wincing away from the hand. He did a few times, but Nightwing didn’t mind. He just stayed still until Bentley moved his head back in place. He spoke softly to him all the while, about everything and nothing.

“Alright. You have a split on your forehead from the bricks, so I’m gonna put some butterfly stitches on it. If that’s okay with you,”

Bentley searched Nightwing’s face. He’d never heard the phrase if that’s okay with you repeated so many times in his life. Though the vigilante’s eyes were mostly hidden, he could see the infamous shine behind the lenses of his domino mask that he’d seen in all his father’s pictures. He had a little smile that never left. There was nothing about his face that reminded him of his father. His father’s expression was always cold, always dark and uninterested. Bentley could pinpoint the changes in his face that indicated anger. That indicated pain. And Nightwing didn’t have any of them.

Bentley nodded again.

“It might be a little uncomfortable at first, but it’ll get better over time,” He explained as he ripped open a small package. It took him a few minutes, but Bentley stayed dutifully still as he applied the sutures, only jumping lightly when he tightened them. It felt weird and hurt a little, but it was better than bleeding out, he guessed.

“Alright. Unless you have anything else you want me to take a look at, we’re all done,” Nightwing stated, laying the excess stitches back in the first aid kit. Bentley considered mentioning his hand, but decided against it. “How are you feeling? Give me a full rundown.”

Well, he could tell him about all the feelings that were swimming around inside of him, like the guilt was eating away at his tiny body at the simple thought of completing his father’s plot. Or the fact that he felt really… weirded out by Nightwing not acting like his dad. He almost wished Nightwing would just hit him already and get all of the playing nice over with so he could go back to how things had always been. With the hero treating him like some priceless artifact that would break at the simplest touch, it was starting to make Bentley confused.

But he assumed he was asking about his physical condition, which was a lot easier to verbalize.

“Uh, I’m… sore. And my head hurts,” Bentley explained softly, brushing some of his red locks out of his eyes. He winced when he touched near the butterfly stitches there. Saying his head hurt was probably an understatement. It felt more like getting actively beaten with a shovel.

“Any dizziness?”

The child shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Nausea?”

Bentley shook his head. Nightwing nodded, turning back to the first aid kit and closing it all up.

Half of him wanted to scream why are you being so nice to me? But he didn’t. He didn’t actually want to know the truth, even though it was swirling around in his head: maybe this was all a huge trick put on by his dad.

The back of Bentley’s eyes started stinging when he thought about it that way, and he tried to push it away, but it didn’t work. Crying is a sign of weakness, his father’s voice came. But, why were his eyes burning in the first place? Because he was realizing that he really would never be free from his dad, even in the presence of other people? He tried to turn his head away from Nightwing, to hide it at least a little, but it only worked to grab the vigilante’s attention.

He quickly abandoned the first aid kit and scooted slightly closer to the couch. “Hey… what is it, kiddo?”

“I-I don’t know,” He admitted, hiding his eyes in his forearm, in the sleeve of his hoodie.

“That’s okay. It happens sometimes when you hit your head really hard — trust me. I’ve hit my head enough for a few lifetimes,” Nightwing stated. Bentley heard him shift, but he didn’t get slapped or touched in the slightest. In fact, Nightwing had been doing a pretty good job not touching Bentley without asking his permission first. Which was… weird.

So, for the second time, he sniffled and hiccuped in front of the black and blue clad vigilante for a little while, but Nightwing — Dick Grayson — never faltered, nor did he get annoyed or walk away. He just sat there with him.

Part of Bentley wanted him to stop being so nice. Bentley’s father never bothered to be nice to him unless people were watching, but he was pretty sure he and Nightwing were alone. If Dick Grayson was gonna hurt him, why hadn’t he done it already?

Did Nightwing actually not want to hurt him?

Which kind of person was normal, then, the person that wanted to hurt him… or the person that didn’t? Was Nightwing just an exception to a common rule? Or was his father cruel? Did everyone else want to hurt him or not?

He’d never thought about it, having safely assumed the way his father treated him was normal. But what if it wasn’t?

Half of him wanted to wonder about it for a while. The other half just wanted to keep crying.

“I-I’m sorry, I…”

“You have nothing to apologize for, kiddo. Just take as long as you need, I’ll be here,” Bentley hadn’t removed his forearm from covering his eyes, but he felt Nightwing shift forward. “Is it okay if I touch your arm?”

With a sniffle that made his headache worse, Bentley nodded. He only flinched minimally when Nightwing’s hand landed on his right arm.

Maybe Nightwing really didn’t want to hurt him.

Or maybe he wanted Bentley to think that.

The kid buried his face in his knees, ignoring the stinging on his forehead and pounding in his skull that the crying was only making worse. He felt Nightwing’s thumb start moving back and forth soothingly, like his hand had been on his back.

Once Bentley finally, finally got ahold of himself, he wiped his face with his sleeves and worked up the courage to look up. Another apology rose up in his throat when he saw the pitiful way Nightwing was looking at him, but he stayed silent instead. Nightwing didn’t seem to like that he kept apologizing, and he didn’t want to antagonize him.

The vigilante shifted lightly, removing his hand from Bentley’s arm. “Need something to eat? I’m no five star chef, but I can probably whip up something that teeters on the edge of edible,” He muttered, shifting his weight from one leg to another while crouching. “Or if not, that’s fine, too. Sometimes hitting your head can make your stomach feel kinda funny for a while.”

Bentley watched the way his face moved, his mannerisms, his expressions. He seemed totally and completely genuine.

Even though Bentley was astonishingly empty (When had he last eaten? His father gave him a meal around seven at night, then Bentley heard him crying around two in the morning, and he was in the closet till ten the next night and had come straight from the closet to Gotham. So, about thirty-two hours ago?) he shook his head no.

Nightwing shifted again, then stood up. “That’s okay. I have some clothes you can change into so you don’t catch a cold. I’ll go grab them.”

When Bentley nodded gently, Nightwing left the room.

What if his father was just trying to see what Bentley would do in the hands of strangers? Whether he would follow his rules or tell them the truth? What if this had nothing to do with Bruce Wayne and everything to do with how badly Bentley would get beaten if he told them what his father was planning?

Or what if Nightwing knew exactly what was going on, and so did Batman, and everyone, and they were planning to send Bentley and his father to prison forever?

He had to stop thinking about all the possible scenarios, or else he might’ve started crying again.

Nightwing returned momentarily, with clothes similar to Bentley’s size wrapped up in his arms. He supposed, if this was a safe house for the vigilantes, these backup clothes belonged to Damian — Robin?

“There’s a bathroom right down the hall you can change in,” Nightwing stated, placing the folded clothes on the arm of the couch. It was a deep green hoodie, some grey sweatpants, and even a pair of boxers and socks. “And these are clean, don’t worry.”

Bentley looked at them for a moment.

“If you want me to carry you there, I can do that, too.”

“It’s okay,” Bentley replied, unraveling himself from the ball he’d been sitting in. He pushed himself onto his feet for the first time in a while, and only teetered a little bit. Nightwing’s hands flew out to catch him but he didn’t actually need to.

“Got it?”

“Uh-huh,”

Bentley gathered the clothes up, careful not to turn his back on Nightwing lest he tried to punch or arrest him, and drifted toward the only hallway in the flat.

It wasn’t very long, and there were only two doors — one on the left and one on the right. There was a window at the end of the hall with black curtains. Bentley could see that it was still dark outside, probably the wee hours of the morning.

“On the left,” Nightwing stated. Bentley followed his directions in silence, heading to the left door and twisting it open. Behind it was a small bathroom.

“I’m going to be in the bedroom making a phonecall, alright?” Nightwing called. Bentley nodded without turning back.

He flipped the lights on. There was a tub that doubled as a shower to the left, and a sink and toilet to the right. The shower was devoid of any products that would indicate someone lived there — further confirming his suspicions of this being a safe house — and the sink held no toothbrushes or pastes. Only one thing of handsoap that was practically full.

He stepped inside and closed the door, quickly changing into the clothes Nightwing provided. The pants were a bit too wide and too long, but he was able to tighten them with the drawstrings. The hoodie hung down to his mid-thigh, and the sleeves fell past his hands. But it was warm and way more comfortable than being in soggy jeans.

He grimaced when he glanced up at himself in the mirror. He was only tall enough to see from his chin up — his forehead looked like something you’d see on an action movie. The whole thing, including his left eye, was bruised in a nasty combination of purples and greens. The split on his forehead had four little stitches over it, and the skin around it was red and angry. But the blood had all been wiped off. Thankfully.

His red hair was soaking wet and not even relatively neat. Its normal style had been abandoned and was replaced by something that looked more like a wet mop. His deep brown eyes were dull and a bit red from having just had a crying episode. He expected his freckles to be half hidden by dirt and grime, but it seemed like Nightwing had cleaned his face up pretty nicely.

He got tired of staring at his bruises, so he left the bathroom on high alert. Nightwing’s voice was coming from behind the closed bedroom door, just like he’d said.

“-just leave him out there. He was bleeding and… God, he reminded me of Wally,”

Bentley creased his brow. He didn’t recall reading anything about a Wally in his dad’s files. With the sudden realization that he was totally eavesdropping, he carried on to the living room and sat back where he had been, pulling his knees back up to his chest.

Despite getting about an hour of sleep in the closet the night before, and napping for however long Nightwing had been carrying him, he was really freaking tired.

He tried to focus on sounds that weren’t the hero’s voice carrying from the other room, like the steady rain. It was a mistake. He started nodding off with his head on his knees, just like he had during his father’s meeting when he dropped him on his head.

He jerked awake when he heard Nightwing open the door, moving his legs and trying to make it look like he hadn’t been halfway in bed.

Nightwing came around the corner. Bentley pretended he didn’t flinch, but in reality he almost threw himself off the couch.

Nightwing looked… relatively dry now? Drier than he had before. His hair was straggly and fuzzy like he’d scrubbed it with a towel and his suit looked drier. But the red on his shoulder from Bentley’s head let him know it was definitely the same suit. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Nightwing sighed lightly, crouching again near the couch. “I know head injuries are pests so, if you just want to rest, that’s totally fine with me. If not, I’m sure we can find something around here to do. Pretty sure I saw The Game of Life in the other room.”

Bentley might’ve snickered had he felt better. A superhero was offering to play board games with him?

He was pretty sure if Nightwing was going to hurt him, he wouldn’t want to play board games with him first. Or maybe he would. He didn’t know, but he thought it was a bit funny. Or maybe he was just really tired.

Bentley shrugged, and Nightwing nodded in response.

“Okay. No pressure,” He stated, scanning the child’s face. Then he added: “It’s completely up to you.”

Nothing had ever been up to him before.

Bentley glanced around the room, pulling his knees back up.

“I’m just… tired,” He muttered honestly, resting his chin on his knees. A wave of anxiety washed over him when he remembered that his dad did not care when he was tired and did not take excuses. “But I… um… not that tired. Really. I-I’m sorry.”

The words tumbled out in a panicked ramble before he could think better of himself. Even after he’d identified that Nightwing didn’t want him to keep apologizing — what an idiotic thing to do. Now he’d disobeyed him, on top of everything else.

“Whoa, Bentley, it’s okay. It’s perfectly fine if you want to rest. You should. You’ve had a long night,” The hero replied. Bentley saw his hand twitch, like he was about to reach out and touch him, but he stopped himself.

The child relaxed and took a long, deep breath. He glanced toward the window. It was still dark out, and the thought of doing anything that needed the smallest hint of brainpower only made his head hurt worse.

“You can rest here, or in the bedroom, if you want to. I can stay or I can leave. Whatever you’d prefer,” Nightwing offered.

Bentley hoped his father wasn’t listening in somewhere, listening to every choice he made. He stared down at his newly socked feet.

“… Can I just stay here?”

“F’course. I’ll grab you a pillow,”

Nightwing set off again, returning with a pillow and large blanket in his hands. “I grabbed this, too, because that one on the couch is tiny. You can use whichever.”

Bentley nodded as Nightwing set the pillow and blanket next to him. “Would you like me to stay in here with you?”

Truthfully? All the vigilante had done so far was try to make Bentley comfortable. Protect him from attackers. Fix his injuries. And as much as Bentley knew he shouldn’t trust him, not yet, he really wanted to.

“… Yes,” He whispered.

“Alright,” Nightwing rose, heading over toward the recliner that sat next to the couch. “If you need anything at all, I’ll be here.”

Bentley nodded for the four-hundredth time. After a few minutes of silence and stillness, he quietly maneuvered the pillow and blanket exactly how he wanted them, and laid down on the couch.

Nightwing was sitting in the chair, reading some book he’d materialized out of nowhere.

Falling asleep was easier for Bentley than it probably should’ve been.

Easier than falling asleep at home.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💛

[charbon-et-eau]

I recently discovered your account through Pixvi. I'm afraid to ask this question, but here goes. I hope not taken the wrong way. I genuinely like your ship art. I gotta wonder how old Brendan is, like, based on your headcanon wise? Forgive me. It's dumb to ask. (If that's the case, I tend to do the same with another Pokemon ship.) If you don't feel comfortable saying it, I completely understand. If you don't want to respond on post, I completely understand; I simply can on DM. Post a chocolate cake picture to let me know.

I've actually already answered this here. I like to hc him as an older teen. I try to reflect that in my art, but I tend to draw Brendan really cute, which probably makes him look younger to most people.

This should go without saying, but I am very much against adults trying to date 16 year olds in real life. However, in fiction, it's fair game. If fictional age gaps involving a teenager make you uncomfortable, that's valid. You're welcome to ignore my headcanons or unfollow/block me.

I just think it's an interesting dynamic to explore in fiction. And I'm actually feeling a bit chatty rn, so for anyone who's interested, I'm gonna expand a little bit on why I find this dynamic interesting under the cut.

For starters, I was a teenager once, and I definitely fantasized about how cool it would be to date someone older. Surely I wasn't the only teenager with fantasies like that, right? Of course, even as a teenager, I knew not to try to make that fantasy a reality.

I was a pretty smart and mature kid, but maybe a little too much. I matured way faster than I probably should have, and as a result, I was always very careful and never took any risks or did any of the stupid things that people usually associate with teens. I was safe (aka boring). I think sometimes I feel like I missed out on the true teenage experience by being too safe. And while that's probably for the best, it's nice to be able to still explore those scenarios through fiction by putting Brendan (or any other fictional character) in Situations.

The other main reason I like making Brendan a teen and sticking him in a relationship with an older man is because it kinda just makes sense given the setting of the source material. In the Pokemon world, it's perfectly normal for kids and teens to leave home and go on potentially dangerous adventures across the region. They can also become gym leaders and champions. I think it makes sense to imagine that kids in the Pokemon world are treated with a lot more respect and agency than in our reality. So it makes sense that the general population in the Pokemon world wouldn't really see any issues with young trainers getting into relationships with older ones. If these young trainers can command a team of up to six incredibly powerful magical creatures in battle, then why would it be weird for them to make out with an older cooltrainer behind the pokemart?

Whether or not this is a good or a bad thing is debatable. My point is that it's interesting to think about what the societal norms surrounding relationships with age gaps would look like in this setting. Also, I think it's funny to imagine Brendan's mom internally cheering "FUCK YEAH!" when she finds out that Brendan is dating the richest man in Hoenn instead of some loser collector or hex maniac that he found on a random route.

I could probably ramble about this more, but I think I've run out of steam for now. Anon, I'm so sorry for rambling, you didn't ask for any of this lol. But thank you for the ask!