#them in the snow because idk they deserve it

[sweeetsh]

what they should’ve had

[beatx-mavie-archangelx]

so y'all are trying to tell me that the problem is snow white being black and not whatever those terrifying things claiming to be the seven dwarfs are??

[spaceghostbuddy]

one day, the blobs came back with a strange magical artifact. it had so much residue of ectoplasm on it that it acted like a reflection for danny to see the real world in and so he loved it. however being a six feet tall ornate mirror and it's drawbacks and so danny came up with a terrible brilliant plan. he broke the mirror so he could carry around a big piece. victor and nora help him cover in the edges so he won't cut his hand. he was happy about it however this lead to his quickly loosing track of all the shards of glass.

eventually the justice league dark managed to track down the cause of the hate curse that spread. it turned out that shards danny lost would end up scratching or in people's possessions and so the rage filled ectoplasm, that didn't really affect danny's area because of all the ectoplasm from him and the blobs, caused people to act out in anger. so the justice league dark decided to ask danny if he knew a way to fix it. a few heroes have tried to approach danny before, but perceiving them as a threat he either hid or pushed them away. once the justice league dark got to danny, which for some reason involved beating santa (who was trying to convince danny to join his side), danny was horrified at what happened and sent the blob ghosts to clean up the mess. the justice league dark also happened to get a small mini kinda member in their ranks that day.

Danny's portal accident has left him blind.

Not fully blind, he can see ecto entities just fine actually, but everything else he cannot.

Danny is left stranded in the ghost zone after the portal collapsed behind him and just left him on a random floating island, he's terribly wounded because a literal tear between worlds opened on him and then just spat him out and closed itself.

So, he isn't having a great time.

Then he gets found by a pack of blob ghosts, who instantly swarm him and just kinda... drag him away basically. Then Danny is given some cloak (His own were damaged to the Ancients and back, also they stole the cloak off a guy a long time ago), some bandages over his eyes and for some reason Blob ghosts are really good at medical care??

Then he lives with them for an undetermined amount of time, getting used to being a ghost with their supervision and is given full access to all the stuff they've stolen over the years.

One of them included a magic ball and Danny, stuck in a cave with not a lot to do, decides to fuck around and try it out.

A while later he's being fretted over by a whole lot of the Blob ghosts because the entire cave was filled with ice.

Not to self, don't use his apparent ice abilities without a sense of control like he did before.

Then a while later, while still trying to control said ice magic, he gets given a crown. One that he can't really see because there's no ectoplasm in it, but also can vaguely see the outline because there was something else inside it.

Later told it was a magic crown they got from a wizard who suddenly decided that he literally had zero use for the thing and traded it with the Blob ghosts since it'll just collect dust.

They traded it for a gem by the way.

So, when Danny finally perfected his ice abilities (with help from the crystal ball) he decides to leave the cave for once in his life and then he subsequently falls through a portal (with his blob ghosts) into the world of DC and boy is he out of his depth.

Then he becomes a villain, not on purpose really. He just needs to see and used his ice do to just that, and because of that he's taken over an entire section of a city (unnamed by it isn't Gotham) and his blob ghosts regularly steal stuff outside to bring back to him so he can eat and stuff.

Of course, taking over a whole section of a city isn't really seen in a good light.

[samcvrpenters]

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: vampire! infatuated! dark! caitlyn kiramman x fem! human! reader

summary: centuries old caitlyn kiramman becomes obsessed with everything about you, leading her to damage the village you reside in and all of your relationships to get you

warnings: stalking, reader has a relationship with a man (at first), murder, burning alive, she terrorises the village to get her hands on you, kind of like nosferatu but not exactly the same, set in the past, fire doesn’t affect vampires, idk i have mixed feelings about this

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

her gaze pierces through the iced window of the room that she had found herself in. she had kicked out the previous owner of the room, muttering something incomprehensible about needing the room to birdwatch or something, and had found that the old woman offered no resistance and allowed her the room with no trouble.

of course, it was suspicious enough that an individual that had hardly been seen of in the town had suddenly acted aggressively towards one of the elderly, yet it was worse when all the navy haired woman seemed to stare out of the window.

nobody would blame her and would perhaps justify her actions if they knew why. in her opinion, she was free to do whatever she wanted to and being able to stare at the cottage opposite of her was a good enough reason to her.

she’s waiting. she’s been waiting for months on end. for you.

you’ve been on a trip for ages, and she had been so tempted to just go out and find you, just so she could keep an eye on you, but she somehow managed to restrain her primal instincts and now she just felt so lucky to see you hauling bags out of that carriage.

she wishes she could run down the stairs and help you with that. in fact, she would. but the carriage driver offers a smile in your direction and helps you with your bags, placing them down on your doorstep before bidding you farewell.

she can see every facial feature from where she is. the slight flush of your cheeks because of the cold. the small particles of snow that are scattered on your body and the sleeves of your clothes. she can see how it has melted— only slightly— in your hair, which makes your scalp a little damp.

however, her expression turns into a scowl when she sees the village’s rather eligible bachelor, one of the men with expensive looking clothes and a bouquet of white roses, rushing towards you and almost sweeping you off your feet as he lets them rest in your hands. she can hear the conversation from up in the room. she can hear the surprised laugh and she can almost hear your joy.

“my love,” the man begins, leaning forward as he holds your back, your feet hardly touching the ground because of the way he scooped you up. “how was your trip? satisfactory, i assume?”

“rather so.” your response is sweet. your voice is sweet. everything about you is sweet. caitlyn would do anything to get a taste of you and your blood.

why can’t you be hers already? why can’t you wrap your arms around her neck and tell her that she’s everything you want and adore? why can’t she be the one to sweep you off of your feet and not let go? why is she not the one to do all of those things that she deserves to do?

she could treat you so well. but it’s not like you know her. no, not really. she doesn’t know if you’ve seen her before. but what if you’ve dreamt of someone like her? what if you daydream of some supernatural being to come and save you?

caitlyn turns ever so slightly, forcing her eyes away from the scene from outside, not wanting her mind to distort and her sanity to slip away at the sight.

she fears it may be too late.

night soon comes around, and caitlyn finds herself in the same place. she hasn’t left. not really. she paced around the room, ideas running in and out of her head. they were unstoppable— a force to be reckoned with. she wants to take the candle illuminating the room and shove the wax against the man. watch him scream at the heat. finish him off with a quick bite.

unless he wasn’t worth her mercy. she could drain him. she could bite, leave him, let him bleed out. but he could get help. he could survive.

and she obviously doesn’t want that. she wants him out of the way. if he ends up in some cottage hospital with burns and bite marks, all you’re going to do is get more cautious. you’ll be paranoid, and you’ll worry that some monster was getting too close to you, and you’d demand his protection. and of course he would be willing to accept.

her gaze flickers back towards the window, and she immediately notices that he’s out there. her instincts were right. he’s left. he’s leaving you vulnerable. she doesn’t want you vulnerable.

not to other people, anyway. she doesn’t mind if you’re a little weak for her.

she’s stumbling out of the room, barely closing the door behind her. it’s not like she needs to, she has no belongings and she doesn’t really mind if anyone takes it. because now she has to get to work and you’re the reason why.

the sky is clear— a blue that shows winter is only getting colder. the village is silent. night had passed by in a flash, yet nobody knew anything was different. not until they saw it— the flickering embers in the distance. the way the smoke curled up into what was meant to be a fresh, clean sky.

it seemed it had only just been lit, because it would have been covering the sky in the thick cloud of smoke if it had been set aflame for longer.

and so he hangs, hands tied to wood with flimsy rope, it barely gripping onto the sticks that were positioned upwards. the so-called love of your life was being burnt to a crisp because of some obsession a vampire had with you.

water from the stream had been gathered by the braver people, scooped up in buckets and thrown onto what seemed to be a classic ‘burnt at the stake’ movement, trying to drench the fire and get him down from what seemed to be a rather unpredicted and unfortunate demise.

of course you were upset. he gifted you flowers! he was the one who made you blush. he took care of you. and now he’s gone, and nobody knows why.

rumours began to circulate. bits and pieces of gossip that were strung together to create a lie.

that some extraterrestrial creature had found their village and was creating hell upon it. that they were being prepared for invasion. it was a sick idea, really. one that wasn’t true. but it was the only thing that people could actually string together.

and the worst thing was that it kept happening.

the more rich people of the village started burning, too. sometimes they were in groups. sometimes it was made into a big spectacle. sometimes it was a more lazy act— just throwing people onto what was basically a big fireplace and letting them burn.

of course you’re afraid. you don’t want to go out. you lock yourself in your house, telling yourself again and again that it was secure enough to have that fate put upon you.

but caitlyn would never do that to you.

she’s just getting rid of everyone that cared about you so that you wouldn’t exactly mind it when she dragged you with her.

“it’s a shame you’re so likeable.” caitlyn mutters to herself as she drags a body on the floor. she’s strong, so it doesn’t really tire her out. but of course her thoughts are on you. they’re constantly on you. “so many people have to suffer.”

and she piles it up, on top of another couple of bodies, which were already in flames.

fate is cruel. everyone knows that. the poems write that. the novels write that. everything points towards the fact that fate is cruel. and it truly is, because why does this have to be the one day that you walk out to go and get bread?

why do you have to meet her like this? covered in blood and the fire not affecting her?

she sees the horror upon your face. she wishes she could take it away. but she’s unable to, because you turn and you run. you waste no time, dropping everything in your hands and trying to head to a public place, somewhere anyone would be.

your movements are frantic. she doesn’t care. she will have to get you now. there’s no argument about it. she has no choice.

it just depends on whether you’ll accept it or not.

[liberalk1tsch]

um. i hate to be that person, but this seems like a good time to remind everyone that beetee still commits literal war crimes. he violates the geneva convention and works out the intricacies of gale’s plan to target healthcare workers and families/children.

his motives make sense given what happened to ampert (MYSHAYLA) (and what’s likely happened to his wife and unborn child), but don’t let sotr fool you — him and gale are parallels to show how emotion can make one forget who the real enemy is.

gale is angry. beetee is grief-stricken. they both come up with terrible ideas because of it. ideas that — given their circumstances — are relatively understandable. of course they’re going to want to play by the same book as snow has. to make the enemy suffer. but the distinction of who the enemy actually is becomes blurred for them, and they strive for revenge instead of justice. that’s kinda the point i fear. to remind us of what «good» guys can become, no matter how noble their intentions start out.

idk, i’ve just seen a lot of folks recently talking about how fantastic beetee is, and dont get me wrong, he deserves empathy, but he also deserves to be held responsible for his actions.

at the end of the day, it’s gale’s idea, but it’s beetee’s design that kills prim.

[papenathys]

My friend made a similar post to this awhile ago but I think my problem with "cannibalism as obsessive love" or "blood drinking as shared eroticism" isn't the simple existence of the tropes so much as the fact that due to popular western culture, this ONE interpretation of vampirism and cannibalism has become the word of God interpretation.

Cannibalism is now allowed to mean nothing else except obsessive love, if one so much as dares to provide a different interpretation, it becomes far too bleak and disgusting to comprehend for a subsection of Western readers. Thinking of books primarily like Tender is the Flesh, Moon of the Crusted Snow, Walking Practice, even certain aspects of Hannibal NBC dare I say.

A slight digression into the NBC show; Hannibal cannibalizes humans not necessarily out of a twisted psychosexual need of intimacy, not always, not like Garrett Jacob Hobbs. More often than not, it's because he thinks they are "worse than pigs", his conversation with Dr. Gideon in the s3 flashbacks making it abundantly clear that to him, taking someone's bodily autonomy from them is okay if you're a "higher species/being". He cannibalizes people who irritate him, who instigate him, who happened to have been there. It's funny, it's petty, it's really darkly humorous, except when it's not, which is to say, when he takes the w***ig* form. I am not the biggest fan of Bryan Fuller's symbolism and his cherry picking from Indigenous cultures, but I am intrigued by how Hannibal is depicted in Will's semiconscious.

His mindset about his dehumanized victims too, is an interesting factor, when you consider how cannibalism has often been equated with the oppressor as a symbol of unsatiated greed in Indigenous horror; on a similar vein, one should see The Vegetarian by Han Kang for a gender aspect in Asian patriarchal society, where the heroine is brutalized for not allowing her body to consume flesh, or be consumed symbolically. Also, refer to the above linked article on Tender is the Flesh, which says, "You can’t call what’s going on here “cannibalism"....(it's) a literal Transition, from Taboo to Permitted", via the couching of it in livestock rearing terminology (or in Lecter's case, "ethical" hunting and fishing). Just as Bazterrica dehumanizes the "bred humans" as "head", Hannibal thinks little of the humans he eats, to him they are low hanging fruit or easy game; they deserved it, and because they could not resist the violence done unto them, unlike Will, who resisted, retaliated and became the perfect victim, they became breakfast. I would say he cannibalized Will without ever eating him. (I will also go into the psychological and erotic grooming aspect of Hannibal with ref to Will and Randall Tier in my essay...that too, is cannibalism).

Besides, as mentioned already, that show appropriates the image of Indigenous w***i** for its artsy aesthetic, when the creature is a monster specific to Indigenous, particularly, Algonquin mythos. Of course Indigenous horror looks at cannibalism in a different light: cannibal appetites and the monster itself is heavily connected to settler colonialism and greed. Not everything is about queer eroticism, Hannigram or Yellowjackets-style.

Note: Eat Your Young by Hozier, for example, definitely isn't about sexy times covered in blood, it's about capitalism and the military-industrial complex. You'll be surprised to know in what context that song is used online though.

Coming back to the topic of vampirism, which interests me much less in its current conceptualization, many readers slam dunked on House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson because the vampiric entity is a) not named, and b) tied to an almost blatant allegory of slavery and indentureship (see also: The Wicked and The Willing by Lianyu Tan). Idk what's more concerning, the fact that some did not "realise" that the vampires were a colonialism motif, or the fact that people regarded the queer relationships in these books to be merely primal, sexy, slightly "toxic" erotic devotion fantasies, rather than the sinister imbalanced powerplay of sexual coercion between racialized servant and white master–in a Victorian Gothic novel, that is one step away from styling itself as a historical antebellum allegory!

I have also seen people calling more nuanced understandings of these books "puritanical". Everybody is horny and nothing should ever be divorced from Freud, ever again. It reminds me of the complete forgoing of understandings of racial dynamics when it comes to watching Interview with The Vampire (particularly the Louis x Armand dynamic of s2, and the antiblackness of *many* IWTV fans) or reading a literary fiction novel about biracial identity and heritage like Woman, Eating by Claire Kohda, which I talked about here.

It's fascinating, if not particularly surprising how people pick and choose for dominant group narratives which taboo topic is sexy now, and which one is altogether too discomforting to be interpreted in a different light. Anyway, I will talk more about this in my essay about the oversimplification of taboo. My point is, these stories are all good, interesting (if flawed) "taboo" or dark fictional narratives. But isn't it boring to apply a single, overdone yet simultaneously undercooked interpretation to all discomforting stories, when sometimes, the canon itself is lending to other readings? Why can't there be more avenues of interpretation and discussion beyond the endless train of "cannibalism blood incest judas iscariot dog motif obsessive love"?

[muletia]

I can’t believe I got into Transformers Sunday and already had a dream about them.

So, hear me out. Let’s say you and Optimus (my dream was with knightverse bumblebee but TFP Optimus also has my heart) are together and get attacked or something somewhere cold. Like, ice, snow the whole nine yards. normally Optimus/Bumblebee can get you out of there but they’re hurt badly enough they’re barely holding on.

So you, in a desperate attempt to keep them alive, physically manage to keep their spark warm. You just wrap around their spark with your own body keeping it warm and protected. You fall asleep holding it as close as possible because it’s cold and humans just…fall asleep when it’s cold enough.

Either the bot recharges enough to get you, shivering and slightly frost bitten out of there or the two of you get rescued hours later.

Idk, I’m a sucker for humans protecting the bots. They’ve been through enough and deserve for someone to hold them.

My brain really saw sad autobots 4 days ago and went “yes. Those ones you want.”

welcome to the transformers fandom! I wish you lots of fun reading fics <3

Also, I’m kind of jealous of that dream lmao. I want to dream about my favorite characters too 😔

I have such a huge weakness for this kind of role reversal. A human saving bots, protecting them from danger even though they know they don’t stand a chance (this also applies to valveplug).

In Optimus’ case, a scenario where he’s on the brink of death, and you save him, could serve as a great foundation for future romantic feelings!

Not only does it bring the two of you much closer, but Optimus sees a nobility in you that he’s never encountered in any human before. Maybe that’s what drives him to want to learn more about you, to truly get to know you, to see what other values guide you.

But going back to the scenario… the bot would be deeply grateful to you for saving them. They’d vow to stay by your side until you recover as well and take care of you as best as they possibly can. Sharing their warmth with you at every opportunity and praying to Primus for your full recovery.

They don’t even want to think about your death, even though they know how fragile humans can be. That’s why they’d do everything in their power to keep you alive, ready to sacrifice their own energy for your sake…

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ FROM THE DINING TABLE . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ is it possible to fall out of love? ...apparently so. (0.7k)

contains; exes, reader sees gojo w/ his new girlfriend, ur just the sad and lonely ex who can't get over him idk author's note; i am stressed and this is how im coping

it's been three months.

only three months since you and satoru broke things off. since satoru told you he lost feelings and could no longer string you along as you gazed at him with lovesick eyes etched in hearts; which were well deserved considering your relationship lasted a little over three years.

you loved him so much. no. you love him so much. you'll never stop loving him for as long as you can breathe, because who is he if not your soulmate? there's no one else that understands you, listens to you, and notices all of your ticks and little emotions that are blind to the common eye. satoru is the one that you're supposed to end up with; that you're supposed to marry as you walk down the aisle awaiting that bright smile he always flashed in your direction.

if you're supposed to marry satoru...

...why is he smiling at someone else?

"oh, shit." he finally notices your presence and it's somewhat insulting considering the market isn't too crowded. "hey, how've you been?"

his tone is almost condescending. why would he be asking that question? he should know that you're an absolute and complete mess over him. he should be an absolute and complete mess over you, too. you don't care that he claims to have fallen out of love. that's impossible. that's just something that happens in the movies; and if your life is anything like one of those cheesy romcoms— you desperately hope that you're not the character that gets their heart broken for the main lead.

"i'm okay." you lie. you're not okay. your heart is pounding at a rate that's so rapid you think you're about to pass out, thudding inside of your chest in its best attempt to leap from your body and land in satoru's open hands. now that you're noticing them, though, they're not open. they're firmly clasped to whoever this new stranger is. whoever his new girlfriend is. "who's this?"

he waves his hand dismissively. "don't worry about it." to which the girl giggles and leans into his side.

they're mocking you. you can't help but feel that way.

you can't help but feel your heart break into glass fragments that once were a stained glass mural of your love story. the images of him confessing his feelings after the snow melted in spring, whispering his love for you for the first time when summer began, and the promise ring he was so excited about giving you during your last holiday together, all clash to the ground— becoming incoherent memories that only you care to recall. it's clear that satoru is happily cementing new moments with this girl who's likely somewhat similar to you. she seems sweet and kind, and you hope that she escapes being strung along far sooner than you did.

"you look cute together." the smile on your face is clearly phony. he knows you well enough to be able to tell, and you're sure that she's able to understand, too.

"thank you!" she's so nice? why does he always go for nice girls? if you could take a guess, it's because he enjoys watching them fall for him...watching them give up their entire hearts for his love, only to shred them to pieces like receipt paper that he no longer cares to hold onto. what a monster.

...but you still love him.

"you're welcome." your reply is as genuine as you can fake it to be, and it's possible you've fooled her. you haven't fooled satoru, though. your ex is staring at you with knowing intent, seeing the bitterness in your soul that you hide from everyone else. "satoru, can we talk?"

please.

"what is there to talk about?" his laugh practically drowns you. you feel as if there's a weighted anchor attached to your ankle with a rope that's impossible to break apart with your bare hands. it's pulling you deeper and deeper into the depths of abyss, giggling as you struggle for air and water fills your lungs. the fish say hello. they watch as your lungs close in. they wave goodbye when your eyes finally close.

"forget i said anything."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[m-musings]

HIII

im actually so excited omg i dont wanna sound mean actually the opposite but you write for a couple of pretty dead fandoms and im just so happy to see new writers for them.

can i request hcs for rotg (either jack frost, or bunnymund, or pitch, whoever you like. maybe the three of them??? idk go nuts show nuts) with a grim reaper reader? thanks! :D

Headcanons: Jack Frost, Pitch Black and E. Aster Bunnymund with Grim Reaper! Reader

A/N: anon I'm dying at go nuts show nuts, that's the funniest shit i've read in a while but anyways yeah, all 3 sounds good to me lmao. also, I wasn't sure if you wanted platonic or romantic so i just kept it on the friendly side, i hope that's okay!

NOTICE (7/10/24) : NO LONGER WRITING FOR ROTG

Word Count: 450 Warnings: mentions of death/ dead people

Jack:

Jack is a bit wary around you at first simply due to the nature of your job.

But once he sees just how gentle and kind you are with the souls you reap, he's back on board with getting to know you.

As he gets more comfortable with you, he'll definitely make fun of you like he does with the other guardians but he does it with love!

Jack will occasionally accompany you when you're reaping a younger soul. His presence seems to calm them down if they begin to panic, even if they sometimes can't see him.

If you ever get a break from reaping, he will invite you to participate in one of his famous snow day snowball fights as a way to forget about the sadness that sometimes comes with the responsibility of being a being of death.

He's still the excitable and reckless Jack Frost but when you're around, he's more mellowed out and - forgive the pun- chill to hang out with.

Pitch:

Pitch is intrigued by you from the start.

While he may control people's fears, it is a rare occasion for him to actually interact with one, let alone one as important as the personification of death itself.

He knows just how powerful a reaper can be so he is always sure to treat you with the respect you deserve.

The one time Pitch tried to convince you to join him against the Guardians, it ended with a scythe pointed at his neck and a stern scolding from you, so he doesn't bring that subject up around you anymore.

Pitch actually enjoys spending time with you though, he feels that your presence is much more tranquil and calm than that of the other spirits he knows.

He can be maniacal and full of himself but deep down he has a strange admiration for you and the job you do.

Bunnymund:

Bunny has known you for a long time and has come to highly regard you as an ally.

You two mesh well together, because without the deaths you take watch of, he wouldn't be able to help bring new bouts of life into the world.

He refuses to see any of the souls you may bring around The Warren though, it makes him kind of squeamish.

He will occasionally help you wrangle up a lost soul or two but it's very uncommon for him to be around during the actual reaping.

Bunnymund and you do spend the most time together just because your roles are so interconnected with one another (Guardians of Life and Death and all that).

All in all, You and Bunny are very close knit and have a great respect for one another.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Men #16 review

AKA Magneto takes dexies

Fuck me, this book has had 16 issues, though if you asked me for an elevator pitch I'd have to say 'problems keep happening, except in the snow.' This latest snow problem arc feels like it's picking up the pace, but it covers maybe 5 minutes of their life. It's exciting - fake X-Men, a fight with bad guys, and Magneto taking drugs - but you can only run on 90/10 setup/payoff for so long before it drags. If nothing else, hot Magneto is back and full of drugs! 💊🧲

'Nuh uh, it's MY treehouse.'

Last issue ended with Cassandra Nova whispering in a new mutant's ear and these jerkoffs showing to rumble. The Santo Marco six, 3K mutants we last saw fifteen issues ago. As I said then, it's great that the 3K plot is starting to move but so much has happened since then that I forgot why anyone cares. This issue spends a fair amount of time basically reintroducing them because I'd imagine most readers are like Temper - 'who?' That's taking a little too long to get back to them IMO - this isn't the X-Files where the breadcrumbs are a given. Anyway, they want to be the X-Men for some reason, so the two teams fight. IDK why Scott wouldn't offer them a job interview or something, he looks like a big mean jerk. Yeah, I said it!

Magik and Juggernaut the bash bros are all about it, amping up their previous blood knight act. Cain no shit makes a Jack and the Beanstalk reference but it doesn't really land. Scott tries to remind his violent kids that the Twin is rampaging but they don't hear. The Twin seems like their heart just isn't in it as Cassandra Nova eggs them on. Getting huge Chuck vibes from her lol.

It's a bit jarring for Scott to shut the fake X-Men down so totally then be like 'wait, the twin.' He knows Magik wants their heads and that she and Cain are like this now. He set the example by being standoffish, what did he think would happen? I think I'm still hoping we'll follow up on Scott's mental health issues, but I guess Logan cured him with stabbing and I'm looking for something that isn't there. Still, with two psychics on the team it's something that could have been addressed - even if it's 'I'm doing okay right now thanks.' Leaving any longer to follow up and it'll feel like... round two of a fight from fifteen issues ago. Significant, but wayyyy too long between beers.

Beast calling Mags a shit father is 👌👌👌

Cyke multitasks like a champ and mobilises the factory crew. Mags and Beast hinted at a prosthetic for the ailing elder mutant last issue, though he looks a lot fucking healthier right now. I've been very open about my extreme distaste for R-LDS, and that hasn't changed. Dexies. Dextroamphetamine-x, so mutant dexies - as a temporary solution is ridiculous and pretty funny. Beast just whipping up drugs is becoming a regular enough thing, but dexies, really? Mutant ADD medication? It makes R-LDS look silly-er. I'll come back to this in a separate post for now let's enjoy Magneto shooting up speed and see what it does.

Wooooo! Tight, tight, tight tight tight!

HAHA! My dude is amped up, levitating syringes and billowing his cape. Hook this man up with an IV. I hesitate to say 'Magneto is back' but it is nice to see the Master of Magnetism flex like that. Now go throw some vehicles around, old man. I know you want to.

Not sure what to make of Beast's facial expression there. We can cross 'uncomplicated joy' off the list, that's for sure. Maybe 'should I really be giving Magneto amphetamines? I was in the Defenders, man.' Yes, he should. Hook the whole squad up.

Maybe not Magik...

SPLASH PAGE! Scott orders Psylocke to take out the speedster first, but I think he's been hanging around Hank too much. 'Accelerated physiology' - Scott deserves that knockdown. The action is bombastic and kinetic with handy visual keys to show who what kind of power and how it interacts with our A team. That's a counterbalance to the sheer busyness of the scenes , though I'm not sure it's enough. The pop cartoon style clashes a little with the cinematic panels they're going for here, showing most of the 'what' in a vacuum.

As a whole I find it difficult to tell where each respective exchange is happening. Following the speedster tells a coherent linear narrative, at least - taking out Scott, struggling with Psylocke and handing off to The Vore, then getting blasted by Scott. I wonder where Piper, Xorn, and Quentin are?

Woof! If these clowns want to be X-Men they need better banter. Anyone shouting 'The Juice is loose' in battle deserves to get pounded, FR. Honestly, everyone looks like they're having fun, not like they're looking to kill each other. It's very flashy but I feel like the guy in the bottom left panel - '?' There's the feeling that this fight is not intended to have a conclusion, that it's a showcase for design and dynamics. It's possible to have both, I'm sure of it. Somebody get hurt!

Oh bloody hell the X-Men are getting in on it too, with the embarrassing one liners. I do like cosmic energy guy's design though. Is their leader dabbing? Cassandra Nova must be so embarrassed. I guess THE VORE didn't eat Psylocke's brain or whatever. The unserious vibes the fight carries makes sense considering they're trying to stall the X-Men, but it pulls me out the moment and it makes the X-Men look like chumps. Get a handle on your guys and lead, Scotty!

There we go. This guy - I'm going to call him Bighorns - accepts the chance to regroup when Scott calls it. They want to be X-Men, apparently. With that 'Here Comes Tomorrow' you might even say they want to be New X-Men. There's a set-up for an ideological discussion here - I wonder if they'll go for it. Valid points are being made, kinda. Only one team works for the genocide lady who treats people like lab rats, but the X-Men have mile-wide chinks in their armour to call out. I doubt it, but you never know.

While the action figures have been smashing into each other, The Twin has reached the town. Magneto is dexied up, controlling the Wild Sentinel he and Scott trashed before the series started. That's where we end - with the two teams talking but inherently opposed and Magneto the only thing in between Merle and destruction. Piper around somewhere, Quentin is presumably still knocked out, and Xorn is ... where did he go? Looking for Quentin still, I guess?

In the introduction I flagged the pacing as illusively slow, and looking at this issue as well as zooming out I think it sticks out more than ever. At the end of last issue the Twin was heading for the town, the two X-Men teams were having a tense face-off, while Xorn searched for Quentin off panel. At the end of the issue the X-Men have said hello, the Twin walked a few hundred meters, and Mags took some medication.

He amped up but hasn't actually done anything. Nobody has, really. A 12 mutant brawl happened but nobody's hurt and they're back to where they started. There's just a hint of payoff here, a teaspoonful - enough to taste the flavour but not very filling. Staying on the Magneto example - #15 showed him asking for medication, #16 he took it and did a pose, and #17 presumably he'll interact with The Twin. Or maybe not. The twin, on the other hand, took 3 issues to walk to town. She stopped and started a lot, but it was in service of the choice 'destroy town Y/N?' She keeps choosing yes, urged on by Cassandra Nova, but we know that Merle isn't getting destroyed. They're probably not going to kill a child either, and that's a source of tension at least.

I'm not sure if it will be any better in the trade without serious editing. The start and end of each issue bleed into each other, so it's going to feel downright repetitive. At least we're getting further away from Raid and Chuck Hunt with every step, I just wish they'd pick up the pace. The line work is tight as always, the inks pop - contrasting brightly off the snowy backdrop, each character model is distinct and dynamic - but the choreography and blocking was flat for me. Being able to tell where people are in relation to each other is crucial, and the fight looked like the shadow of fierce without the sincerity.

I'd recommend it for the Magneto content alone, but everything tastes great when you're starving. I'm sympathetic to the rigor of double shipping in a hostile creative environment, but it's been sixteen issues. There's been bursts of brilliance like the Lundquist and Scott scenes but too much padding and repetition. The best scenes shine brightly, so it's not a talent deficit. It'd be nice to have a few excellent issues consecutively, you know? I feel like I say that, or something like it, every review. Hmm, I don't want to be repetitive, let's check out how my peers in X-Men reviewing are handling it.

...

Most sites stopped reviewing this book halfway through Raid on Graymalkin - even AIPT, who review everything positively. Looks like I'm on my own there. Fuck it - adjectiveless X-Men is fun enough - I just know that the team can do better. Thanks for reading.

[kermitkrqb]

Perfect Pair || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Something about evil blondes is gonna do it for me every single time. Until next time, lovelies! 💗

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow x dark!reader, enemies to lovers, Coryo’s violent thoughts, attempted murder, spit play?? (does it count? idk. but i’ll leave this here anyway), dub-con kisses.

‘No loose ends’, Something Coriolanus often reminded himself. The same words had echoed in his head when he had sent his only friend to be hung. Poor, trusting, and foolish Sejanus. Coriolanus wished it could have stopped there, but it seems everywhere the Snow boy stepped, a trail of withering destruction followed. Once that destruction had eventually caught up with him, he’d found that his beloved Lucy Gray Baird wanted nothing to do with him. Why couldn’t she have understood? Everything he did was for her, for them. She had fled from his love as if it were poison, and maybe it was. But, he’d argue that she was just as poisonous, latching onto him as he did everything in his power to ensure her safety- milking him for everything he had. Only to leave once she had found out that he in fact did everything in his power to ensure her safety. So what if he had killed Sejanus? Sejanus’ recklessness would have gotten them all killed eventually. Although, it was all over now. In the form of Lucy Gray Baird, he had cut off his final loose end, leaving her in the forest and vowing to never love again- which was originally the plan.

There you were, standing across the room in a perfectly poised manner. He loathed it, loathed you. Coriolanus knew that you had always been smart, a close contender to the Plinth prize, a top student like him but not quite as good. Although, he had underestimated you. A few nights ago, much like the rest of your Academy classmates, you were celebrating the end of the semester at university. He had found himself exchanging petty insults with you on some balcony when you had revealed something rather bone-chilling. Coriolanus would have pushed you off the second floor if it weren’t for the abundance of people in the next room. Tipsy on posca, you had let it slip that you knew the circumstances of Sejanus’ death. How? He did not find out. You had taunted him, backed him into a corner, threatening to tell the Plinth’s that the golden boy they had adopted was not so golden after all. You had made a fool of Coriolanus Snow of all people. He hated you for it… but you had done something even more unexpected. You let him go. Although, he wasn’t going to take the risk. He couldn’t afford it, not after everything he had done to get where he is now- in the care of the two grieving parents of Sejanus, living the life of luxury he had always deserved.

Coriolanus had convinced Strabo Plinth to host another gala, hiding behind the excuse of ‘making connections’ for when he would eventually rise to power as the President. It was partially true, although, his main motive was to lure you in. Coriolanus had planned to poison you tonight, alongside a few other people he saw as threats. He would disguise it as another rebel attack, blame the staff- anything to ensure his protection. He watched from across the room as you eagerly conversed with a few gamemakers and former classmates. It was almost sickening to him, the sweet smiles you would flash, the way you would carry yourself so confidently. He could see right through you, because you were just like him. Driven by ambition, power hungry. He hated you. You caught his eye from where you stood, holding his gaze as you sent him a smile. What others might have interpreted as an innocent interaction, Coriolanus knew it was a silent threat. He was the first to look away, making his way through the crowd as he headed towards a secluded hallway, silently beckoning you to follow.

You of course took the bait, like he had planned, “Well if it isn’t Coriolanus Snow.” The click of your heels echoed across the hallway as you made your way over to him, like a snake slithering to its prey. You were adorned in a blood red gown, quite fitting for your personality, he thought. You had a glass of posca in your hand, the very drink that had gotten him into this mess. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his blue eyes piercing through you before he broke the silence, forgoing any pleasantries, “Y/n. What is it that you want from me?” Unfazed by his cold tone, a small smile spreads across your lips, “What are you willing to give me?” The nerve of you. He wanted to scream, choke you until the life faded from your eyes, instead, he took a deep breath, “$50,000, and a formal introduction to Dr Gaul. Perhaps she’ll mentor you as well.” Coriolanus knew fully well that he was offering money he didn’t have, Strabo would never give him such amounts of money on short notice, but you didn’t have to know. After all, you’d be dead by the end of the night.

You tilt your head at him, swirling the glass of posca in your hand as you thought about his proposition, “$50,000? I’m sure you can be a little more generous Snow…considering you’re practically a Plinth now.”Coriolanus feigned annoyance, stepping closer and eventually cornering you, “You have plenty of money, what use would you have with even more?” He watched as your breath catches in your throat due to his proximity, he relished in your reaction and watched as you caught yourself, putting on a confident facade, a hint of flirtation in your voice. “You’re right… but I do like playing with you… you’re my favourite toy.” Coriolanus finds himself wondering who else had fallen victim to your vicious games. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear, “Is that so? I don’t quite like this game of yours…” He notices how your breathing falters with every inch forward that he takes. He uses this to his advantage, pressing up against you and leaning in so his nose brushes against yours, as if he were to kiss you. Your vision is shielded as he invades your personal space, dulling your senses as you focus on his touch. With light fingers, he reaches into his pocket and drops a small dose of poison in your glass of posca. He whispers, “50 grand, take it or leave it.”

Coriolanus takes a step back, watching as you try compose yourself. He can only smirk at your flustered state, and inevitably, you take a sip from your glass on instinct. You’re about to take another sip when you see the way he’s eyeing your drink. A glint of malice in his eyes. You swallow nervously, stepping forward in panic, “What did you do to me?” He bites back a laugh, grinning to himself, “Soon enough, you’ll be dead- poisoned. But don’t worry dear, you won’t be the only one. The world will know your names, the poor victims to another ‘rebel attack.’ Don’t you know? Snow lands on top.” But then you do the unthinkable. You take another swig from your glass, filling your mouth with the poisoned posca before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into a forceful kiss. It was intoxicating, the way the sweet but deadly wine traveled down his throat, alongside the soft pillowy touch of your lips against his own. Mutually assured destruction. He wanted to hate you for it, he really did, but you were just so brilliant. Is this what he had been missing all along? He had liked the supposed innocent love he shared with Lucy Gray, but this, you, were truly deadly. Just like him.

Coriolanus stumbles back, shocked. You watch with a somewhat amused expression, considering the circumstances. “Time is ticking Snow. I assume you’re not stupid enough to go without the antidote?” He feels his eyes roll into the back of his skull, he reluctantly pulls out another vial, and before you can snatch it from his hands, he holds it above your head. You scowl as he taunts you, and he simply laughs, “My god, you’re insufferable.” You watch with outrage as he takes a generous swig from the vial, and before you can say anything, he presses his lips to yours, just as forcefully. You let out a soft groan as he transfers some of the liquid into your mouth, you swallow hungrily, keeping your lips locked with his. You wanted to hate him, but the way he kissed you had your heart fluttering with desire. Perhaps he isn’t so bad, you think. Coriolanus pulls away, his breathing heavy as he takes in your flushed state and slightly swollen lips. It was that day forward that your two fates would be sealed. “Stand by me Y/n. Stand by me, and we’ll be untouchable.” And so you do, eventually becoming the First Lady of Panem as he rises to power as President, a perfect pair indeed.

A/N: Also, saw someone shit talking the Coryo fan fics out there the other day?? I think most, if not all of the writers in this fandom are absolutely amazing, which is why I’m confused. So, if you don’t like the content, don’t read it, and you think it’s so bad, then write your own. Go on then. There are these amazing writers taking the time out there to fulfil your asks, your requests in their own time. They don’t have to, but they do anyway. Show your writers the love and appreciation they deserve. Sorry for the rant, I just hate it when people are so rude.

Support your writers! 💗💗💗

[medievalandfantasymelee]

So many GoT dudes who's potential hotness is nerfed for me by terrible hair.

(DISCLAIMER: this is not meant as condemnation or antipropaganda, sassing fictional characters' appearance decisions (by which I exclusively mean things they have control over, not like, their face shape or something) is fun and funny for me and my tone here is intended to be lighthearted and affectionate, but I understand if it's too critical for the rules.)

"Where were the Stannis girlies?" Idk man I think that's the single worst haircut I've seen on this blog.

"Daario? Over Jaime?" See, Daario's hair is amazing and Jaime looks like he's trying to juggle Sports Bro, Morally Dubious Nerd, Rugged Badass, and Guy Who Can Be Trusted To Go To Work On Time, and like, fucking commit my dude, those things aren't compatible.

"Aemond lost?" Well maybe if he didn't seem to be afraid to get a bit artfully disheveled with his hair the scar might actually work for him. Even just part it a bit asymmetrically. All it'd take probably. You look like a fake bad boy who read the "Draco in Leather Pants" tv tropes page and have that objective in mind but you're scared of actual edge rn. (Side note: I have zero beef with them but both Targs losing in that first poll is iconic. Deserved though. Like, speaking of good hair, dang Corlys.)

"Rip John Snow." Okay I'm going to give him some grace because it's cold and wet and his hair is naturally curly, but alas the frizz. Too much friz. I don't think proper fantasy protag grease would save him even because it'd fuck up the curls even worse. Poor boy was doomed before he ever began. Only possible recourse is to grow a couple more inches and keep it in a ponytail out doors but he has better things to do and I mean, good for him I guess. o7. Probably should have given him a pity vote out of curly hair hell maintenance solidarity honestly, but alas Oberyn's bicon status, respect women juice consumption, and genuine, social class defying, love are too strong paired together. (I haven't seen that much of the show, no one tell me if he's less cool than the books.)

This is interesting because I feel like Jon's hair was one of the much vaunted points of his good looks back in the day.

And it's hard to speak on Jaime's hair because it has varied.

[the-dragon-girl-27]

Remember those other 3 times I turned sekai characters into dinos (L/N MMJ VBS) I'm back with more of that crap i know Wanshow fans just looove their AUs so maybe this will appeal to a whole 3 people instead of 2 people this time

explanation for my picks below the cut

Tsukasa is a Styracosaurus because I made Saki a Stellosaurus which is another ceratopsian and also its frill is like vaguely star shaped kinda sorta not really

I don't have much to say about him so can i just mention how awful that Stellasaurus drawing is.

Yeah only recently did i start figuring out how the fuck to draw decent ceratopsians I am so sorry (the struggle is real i almost accidentally gave tsukasa 2 left feet here i swear i know what i'm doing)

I should redo that Saki at some point, girl deserves so much better than that wonkey crap. speaking of ceratopsians i opted out of giving him protofeathers unlike Saki idk they just didn't look right on him you can kinda go either way with most ceratopsians so i just do it when the vibe fits and don't when the vibe doesn't fit

Rui is a Troodon because Troodons are often associated with intelligence because they have the biggest brain to skull ratio of any dino, there's kinda no real way to know how intelligent dinos were but troodon just has the reputation of the smart dinosaur and people often depict them using tools like how crows do and that's like kinda like how rui does robot stuff, he also just fits the raptor shape sorta i feel like raptors have that sorta look to them that is like a similar vibe to the one Rui has, even tho Rui is the tallest character in sekai I feel like he's a mid sized dinosaur, does that make sense? no, but it does to me and i make the rules he's also 100% a feathered dino so it fits

Speaking of Troodon all you 2 paleo nerds reading this are getting war flashbacks from the name Troodon because Troodon itself has a interesting history of being a "wastebasket taxon" which is nerd talk for "scientists just threw a bunch of vaguely similar animals into this one category and didn't consider that maybe this was like 5 different animals and what would be the long term consequences of doing that" yes this is a thing that has happened enough times that there is a word for it

that shit still as of now isn't sorted out I don't think, I at least based my Troodon off the big one from Alaska that literally does not have a fucking name and is just like "the Alaska Troodon". I feel like the size fits and imma be real its the Troodon you see everywhere in media these days because its big and cool and it lived with Pachyrhinosaurus and Nanuqsaurus and also people like it cuz drawing dinosaurs in the snow is fucking awesome (boom i just tricked you into learning paleontology history)

Emu is an Archeopteryx because Emu is supposed to be like a phoenix and Archeopteryx could probably fly or glide or smth it's general considered like "the first bird" so like yeah (now that i think about it i could've made her pyroraptor cuz of the name but also she doesn't fit the vibes of a raptor at all i guess pyroraptor has the whole fire bird thing from its name) Emu would also be a small feathered dinosaur for sure so it fits in that sense too.

Nene is a Stegosaurus because the plates kinda look like her hair thing and her outfit in general and i feel like nene would have those tail spikes for some reason idk it just fits her energy, she'd def be a herbivore as well i feel. Also i personally just associate stegosaurus with the color green personally idk why (at first i was thinking she would be iguanodon because that's another dinosaur that's green in my head but she has like nothing in common with iguanodon lmao)

I guess nenerobo would be an Ankylosaurus than because that would like probably be the logical robot version of a stegosaurus maybe idk would nenerobo exist in this universe, you decide idk

i guess next one is that last one unless i wanna redo the vocaloids in this style or redraw saki at some point or whatever see you whenever that happens in however long it takes

[jjscrybaby]

𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 💿 — 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔

masterlist.

steve harrington x fem!reader | angst/fluff | (a lot of reader x the other characters cause i’m a sucker for found family, i got way too into it and added full on lore so sort of messed up family warning, ptsd. shitty ending cause it was getting a bit long and i wanted to write something else lol.)

writing this made me want to write a full fic about it, but idk if anyone would be interested in that. let me know if you’d want to see something like it! it wouldn’t be exactly the same, obviously, but along the same lines.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Hawkins doesn’t look much different from when you left. The trees are caked in snow, the grass is all dead and icy, the buildings are locked up tight for the night with extra locks because no one ever truly feels safe anymore. You remember, back when you were young, your mom wouldn’t even lock the front door sometimes; it would be dangerous if you lived elsewhere, but Hawkins was known for it’s safety and lack of thugs and thieves.

Your eyes travelled over the empty streets as you drove, nausea sitting uncomfortably in your gut. It had been two years since you last stepped foot in your home-town, and yet everything feels exactly the same.

The house that sat in front of you was decorated head to toe in decorations, lights hanging on the roof and a blow-up snowman on the lawn. Hopper and Joyce loved going all out for their two teens, El never got to experience Christmas before a few years ago and Will deserves to have new memories of Christmas time. You climbed out your car and the front door was pulled open, Jonathon stepped out.

“There she is!” He beamed, stepping towards you with open arms. You grinned, wrapping your own arms around him excitedly.

“Long time no see,” you smiled, pulling away. The nausea settled now that you were seeing a familiar face.

“You’re two hours late, got scared you weren’t coming… again,” Jonathon stated, moving to open your trunk and get your bags for you. You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m an asshole. I know,” you replied, a self-pitying smile on your face.

He shook his head, closing your trunk and carrying your suitcase under one arm. He ruffled your hair as he walked past and back inside the house, you following close behind. “No one thinks you’re an asshole. We just miss you around here.”

Before you could respond, you were getting bombarded by a girl who has definitely grown over the last two years. El’s arms wrapped around your waist, smiling up at you. “You’re here!”

“Hey,” you greet enthusiastically. She’d learnt a lot over the last couple years, you could tell from the monthly calls you have, but you didn’t think she fully understood why you hadn’t come back to visit yet — she may be the only one.

“Your hairs different,” she stated, tugging on the ends of your hair. You just laughed as Hopper, Joyce and Will also appeared in the hallway.

“Hi, honey,” Joyce said warmly, hugging you.

Hopper was next, kissing the top of your head; he’d definitely softened since the last battle. Will had grown the most, towering over you now as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Look at you,” you laughed. “Not 4’11 anymore, huh?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, smiling sheepishly.

“How was the drive?” Joyce asked, arm wrapping around your waist as she lead you through the foreign house and into the kitchen.

They’d moved in here just after the final battle, but you’d also left at the same time. You’d seen pictures from El mailing them to you, but you’d never actually seen it with your own eyes. It was homely, comforting, a lot like the old Byers’ house. You were happy they’d made the decision to move back to Hawkins rather than go back to California, it was obvious no one was enjoying it there and Hopper didn’t want to leave.

“Exhausting,” you sighed, leaning against the counter as Joyce turned on the kettle.

“Well, we’re happy you’re here,” Hopper smiled. “It means those two can finally stop pacing the house.” He pointed to El and Will.

“We weren’t,” El argued, shaking her head.

“Not sure how your feet aren’t aching by now,” Hopper teased, making her stick her tongue out at him.

You smiled softly at the exchange. You could remember when you all thought he was dead, the effect it had on Eleven. It had broken your heart, for more reasons than one. Growing up, you’d spent countless hours in his office at the station; petty theft, underage drinking, cps calls. He became somewhat of a dad to you too, and yet you still left him behind.

“I missed you guys, too,” you smirk, ruffling both the teens hair. They groaned, pushing you away as if you were an overbearing mother.

“I think they all missed you. Robin and Dustin spent an entire week trying to talk their way into being here when you arrived, but we figured you’d be tired and those two are the last people you want to see when you’re tired,” Joyce explained.

Robin and Dustin, two of the ones you missed the most, but not the one. Seeing them would just remind you of him, although you were well aware you’d be seeing him as well. You’d been so close to cancelling, making up an excuse about having to work Christmas Day and promising to see them in the New year, but you did that last year. You felt guilty, and deep down you didn’t want to spend Christmas alone in your dingy apartment in a city you hate.

“I’ve put your bags in the guest room,” Jonathon said, walking into the kitchen just as Joyce started to pour cups of tea.

“The guest room? Damn, this place is fancy,” you joked.

“Technically it’s meant to be El’s room, but she spends most nights on a mattress on Will’s floor,” Hopper explained with a pointed look at his daughter. You couldn’t blame her, she’d grown up completely alone; it was about time she had people around her.

You sat around and drank tea in the living room, a Christmas movie playing as white noise in the background as you chatted about your life now, and theirs. You heard all about school for the teens, about Jonathon’s new job and him and Nancy thinking of getting their own place, about Hopper and Joyce’s wedding plans. That was another thing you’d have to visit for, but at least there would be more people; easier to hide in the shadows.

When you crawled into bed, pyjamas on and eye bags heavy, the door creaked open. Joyce stood there, coming to sit on the edge of the bed when you gave her a warm, sleepy smile.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” She asked quietly, incase anyone was listening in.

Tomorrow. Christmas Eve. The day you’ll have to see everyone again, the day you’ll have to see him.

“I’m feeling okay. I’m excited to see everyone,” you murmured back.

“You know we’re all here for you? If you need a break or anything…” she trailed off, but you knew what she meant.

“Thankyou, Joyce. And thankyou for letting me stay here. Robin offered, but I didn’t really want to stay with her and… y’know,” you explained softly.

“No worries, we’re happy to have you. We’d keep you forever if we could,” she joked, making you laugh tiredly. “Go on, get some rest. El will be waking you up nice and early, she’s been practicing making breakfast.”

“God help us,” you muttered, making her laugh. “Night, Joyce.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

As you’d been warned, El woke you up just past eight am to cook breakfast together. You’d all sat down and eaten the eggs and bacon, talking about the plans for the day. Today was supposed to be more chill, just meant for reuniting and getting more into the Christmas spirit. It was tomorrow, Christmas Day, when things would become more intense.

You showered and dressed, putting on some jeans and a white, long-sleeved top. When you went down the stairs, Nancy was already here. She gave you a welcoming hug. The two of you were never that close, but when you’ve fought literal demons together you become family.

Next was Mike, who gave you a hug and then an insult just to not cringe himself out. Then came Lucas and Max, her walking had improved by far; she barely had to use the crutches anymore. When the next knock on the door came, you held your breath. Joyce pulled it open and Dustin and Robin stood there, barging past her to get to you. You laughed as they tackled you in hugs, telling you how mean you were for not visiting more recently. When you looked up though, the smile dropped off your face. There he stood, holding a homemade pie with a stupid Christmas jumper on as he said hello to Joyce.

For a moment, time stood still. You were 17 again, utterly in love with Steve Harrington. He was just as in love with you, the two of you sat three years ago watching Christmas movies and feeding each other cookies after you’d cried in his arms over all the people you’d lost. Joyce and the kids had been in California, Max had been pretending you all didn’t exist as Lucas tried to get her to let him in, everything had sucked. It had sucked a little less with him by your side, though. You’d at least had a shoulder to cry on.

“Hi,” he murmured, a gentle smile on his lips as he stepped towards you. Joyce had taken the pie, that meant his arms were free. Were you supposed to hug him? Shake hands? How did you greet your former soulmate?

“Hi,” you echoed, just as softly as him. Eyes were on the two of you, everyone waiting to see what you would do; you felt just as lost as them.

He made the decision, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a fleeting hug. His cologne filled your nose, the same one he’d been wearing since he was fifteen. He pulled away, hands lingering just under your shirt as he stared down at you.

The breakup wasn’t his decision, which was why you’d been so anxious to see him. What if he hated you for how you left things? One second you were planning on moving in together, and the next you were telling him you couldn’t do this anymore and fleeing across the country. You hadn’t even heard his voice since that night.

“You look good,” he complimented, taking in your appearance.

“You too,” you smiled. He looked different, yet the same. His hair still perfect and eyes still warm. There was an exhaustion behind them, one that all of you shared. He was freshly shaved, very clean looking. He always had been, though. With his parents being so pristine, he had to be. You were the lucky one that got to see him before he was ready for the day, messy hair and sweats on. You always thought he looked perfect.

“Let’s go sit,” Joyce decided, noticing the slight awkwardness between the pair of you.

The large group of you moved to the living room, all squeezing in. Hopper sat in his armchair, the one you were positive used to sit in the cabin, with El on the arm of it. Joyce, Nancy and Jonathon on one couch, the kids young adults all on the floor and you, Robin and Steve on the other couch. Robin took the middle, thank god, you’d shoved yourself into the corner before she could force you into sitting next to him.

She wanted the two of you back together more than anyone, every time she called she’d bring him up; it was a ploy to force you into thinking about him. She didn’t understand why you left, why you ended things with him. She never blamed you, of course she didn’t, but you knew that sometimes she wanted to just scream down the phone at you for answers as to why you broke her best friend’s heart.

“It’s so weird to have you back here, good weird obviously, but weird,” Robin babbled, arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s weird for me too,” you laughed softly, looking around the living room.

There was a wall of pictures that you hadn’t noticed last night, ones of the family and also the rest of you. You featured in a few, and it made you smile. Even with you not living here, not seeing them in two years, they’d put you up there. One of the photos caught your eye, it was from before the Snowball dance, you, El and Steve from when he’d dropped you to the cabin to do her makeup. She had her dress on, and Hopper had wanted to snap a picture. Steve was stood behind you, looking down at you with a loving smile as you kissed El’s cheek. That same picture was on your wall in your apartment, the only thing that makes it feel like home.

You look back towards Robin, eyes meeting Steve’s. He just stares, it’s like now than no one’s watching the two of you his facade of being perfectly fine is gone. He’s staring at you like he wishes you were someone else, or wishes you weren’t there at all. You don’t blame him, you feel the same way.

“How’s Chicago?” Steve asked, but from the tone you could tell he didn’t really want to know — or he wanted you to tell him how terrible it is.

It was terrible, you hated it. You had a shitty job as a waitress in a diner by your apartment, your neighbour was a creepy old man who kept inviting you in for a chat and you had no friends. You felt completely alone, but the horrors that Hawkins held were just too much for you to deal with.

“It’s okay,” you replied quietly, nibbling on your red-painted nails.

“Great,” he replied sarcastically. You carried on smiling, it was strained and awkward but you didn’t want to make things even more uncomfortable by starting to cry.

The next few hours were a blur, catching up with your friends (mainly the ones four years younger than you) and helping Joyce make dinner just to get away from the conversation you knew you needed to have. He deserved closure, an explanation, but you weren’t ready to give it. You weren’t ready to open up.

“How are you doing?” The question caught you off guard, eyes going wide as you turned to look at Hopper. You were pouring yourself your third glass of wine, finally able to legally drink in front of the sheriff. “With the holidays, I mean. I know you’ve never really enjoyed them.”

“I’m okay,” you replied, sipping from your glass.

He didn’t believe you, the way his eyebrow raised told you that. “You know, you’ve always got a place here. I don’t know how Chicago is, you never really talk about it, but if you ever want to come home then you have a place to stay.”

“Thanks, Hop,” you murmured, tears welling up in your eyes as you gave him a soft smile. “I just— I think me coming back would be too weird.”

“You can’t not come back because you’re afraid it would be weird, if you want to be here then you have every right. This is your home, kid. Doesn’t matter what you left behind,” he argued firmly.

You spent the rest of the night going over his words. Was he right? He’d left once too, but that wasn’t by his own accord, everyone was thrilled to have him back. It wasn’t the same. You knew if you truly decided to move back to Hawkins you’d have to have that difficult conversation, and you’d have to deal with seeing Steve more than once every couple years. You didn’t even know anything about him anymore — was pizza still his favourite food, did he still hate horror movies, did he have a girlfriend? You hadn’t even thought about him moving on, but there was a possibility, you didn’t think he’d wait around for you forever.

It got to midnight and everyone was still there, you didn’t realise you were having some sort of group sleepover. Joyce and Hopper headed to bed, telling you all to behave, next was El and Max who headed to Will’s room. Lucas, Dustin and Mike were sharing the pull-out couches and Jonathon and Nancy were in his room. That left just you, Steve and Robin. What you should have expected was for Robin to fall asleep on the last couch, the place where Steve was supposed to sleep.

“Well, great,” Steve muttered, looking around. He tried to shake Robin, but she had one too many margaritas; she was out cold. “Guess I’m sleeping in the bathtub.”

“Don’t be stupid,” you sighed. You didn’t want to share your bed with Steve, but you didn’t feel like you had much of a choice. You couldn’t leave him to sleep on the floor, or the bath, in the middle of December. “Just come on.”

“What?” He looked over at you in confusion, before realisation hit him. “Uh…”

“Don’t be a child, Steve. You haven’t got any other options,” you argued, walking away from him to head up the stairs.

He followed you, walking into the bedroom behind you. You both looked at each other awkwardly, moving around to get changed and ready for bed. When you crawled into bed you felt your heart race pick up, the bed dipping beside you as he laid next to you silently.

Minutes ticked by, you thought maybe he’d fallen asleep from the soft sounds of his breathing that filled the room, but then he spoke up. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“What?” You whispered back, throat growing dry.

“When you left, you didn’t say goodbye. I had to find out that you were gone from Robin. I know we weren’t together anymore but… I thought I deserved a goodbye, at least,” he muttered.

“You did,” you murmured after a moment of silence. You felt him shift, turning to look at you. “But I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of seeing you, I thought if I told you what I was planning you’d manage to talk me out of it,” you explained quietly, squeezing your eyes closed as they filled with tears.

“Was that possible?” He asked.

You nodded your head, wiping a stray tear that rolled down your cheek. “Everything sucked, it still does, but… at the time… it was just—” you trailed off, a sob catching in your throat.

“We don’t gotta do this right now,” he reassured, concern filling his voice. He turned his body fully towards you, moving closer.

“Yeah, we do,” you argued. You were a little tipsy, you were in the dark and there was no way of escaping him. This was the perfect time. “After everything with my parents, I was terrified of losing people. It was like, my biggest fear. Then everything happened with Vecna, and for four years I had to lose countless people. I had to worry constantly that I was going to lose you.”

“You never—”

“Just let me finish,” you pleaded, voice full of pain. “After the final battle, after I nearly lost you and everyone, I was still terrified that it wasn’t over. I was having constant nightmares, seeing things, it was literally torture. I had to get away, and apart of that was leaving you.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me about this?” He asked softly, hand reaching towards you but hesitating at the last second.

“Because, Steve. You were doing so well, you were so happy. I didn’t want to drag you down with me,” you sobbed

“You wouldn’t have been,” he argued calmly, finally taking your hand in his to squeeze tightly. “You were the love of my life, you understand that? I could’ve helped. I— I still could.”

You looked up at him, lip wobbling. “You still could?”

“I love you. Always have always will. You don’t like it in Chicago, I know you don’t. Robin tells me how miserable you sound, and from seeing you today I agree with her. You’re not happy, but you could be,” he explained, leaning forward so your faces were only a couple inches apart.

“Even after everything I did?” You asked shakily.

He smiled softly at you in the darkness, moving further forward until his lips were brushing against yours. When you didn’t push him away, he leant in fully and his lips connected to yours. Your tears continued to run down your cheeks, but now they didn’t feel quite so sad.

“That answer your question?” He murmured against your lips, making you giggle quietly. You nodded your head and he grinned back. He looked over you at the clock that rested on the bedside table, his grin growing at the time. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” you smiled, kissing him once again.

Chicago wasn’t for you. Hawkins would always be where you’d end up — because of the people that had been waiting there for you.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hello friend! I'm in love with your writing!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

Idk if your requests are still open but I'd like to request something if you don't mind!

I LOVED the hurt/comfort/whump fic you did for Hunter. Could you possibly do something like that for Tech x Reader?

Maybe Tech and the reader are on a mission together or maybe they've crash landed somewhere or something. The reader is badly hurt and Tech has to take care of her and treat her wounds and save her and comfort her in his own special Tech way 😂😍

Oh @arctrooper69 what can I say? I mean ... I think a thank you is just not enough. You have made my day with this request, so I took my time to give it the proper respect it deserves. I hope you like it. If it wasn't exactly what you were looking for I do apologize.

Please note that you are always welcome to send in requests. As this is a special request, it will be stored in my One Shots & Mini Series Master List.

The story got a little away from at 1400+ words, but I hope it's close to what you wanted.

And who doesn't love Tech. I love this adorable nerdy man.

Love oo,

His Promise

Warnings: Snow, injury, blood, explosions, crash, grief, fear, anxiety, hurt, fluff, near death, feelings of being a burden, getting in the way, I think that's it. If I miss any, please let me know.

Please note the explanation of Snow, Tech gives, was taken from the National Snow and Ice Data Centre.

AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List  

The wind was picking up, as the snow piled down and was doing everything in its power to keep you and Tech from being rescued. You looked at the snow as it came down in sheets outside the entrance of the cavern he found, mesmerized by its beauty. 

“It’s beautiful and so calming …” you said slowly, your body already weakened from your injury and loss of blood.

“What are you talking about?” Tech did his best not to let the slowness of your breathing or even the breathless way you were speaking affect him. His anxiety was already high, and his fear of losing you was nearing his breaking point. 

“The snow…” you kept watching the soft flakes float down as they gently landed on the ground, piling on top of one another, almost as though they were unable to survive without the comfort of those around them. 

Tech glanced up to see the blizzard which prevented you both from leaving. As he watched the speed of the wind, he calculated it would’ve been nearly impossible for Hunter to bring the ship close to them. As he looked at the used bandages already soaked through with your blood his fear only grew. You needed immediate medical attention, more than he could provide at the moment, or it would mean certain death for you to be out here any longer.

Frankly, he couldn’t stop picturing the way you lunged forward as the ship crashed. He was helpless to watch you, as your body fell forward against the console, as a piece of the console broke off and jabbed you in your abdomen. It all happened too fast and somehow in slow motion. He could still hear your scream piercing his ear as he pulled you off the console.

He tried to stop the bleeding right away, however when he went to look for the med kit, he realized only too late that it had fallen out of the shuttle when the engine and the side compartment blew. All he had left were his emergency bandages and gauze and they weren’t nearly enough. 

At that moment, he couldn’t care less about how beautiful the snow was or how calming the blizzard looked from inside a cavern, that he only had to find because that piece of osik shuttle decided to have a fuel leak, catching on fire. 

Within seconds he had needed to drag you out of the relatively warm and safe shelter you both had, grabbing what supplies he could before the ship blew up. Thankfully, he had been able to send a message to Hunter when the shuttle crashed initially. So it was only a matter of time before the Marauder showed up, but …

His eyes fell back to the bundle of used gauze, his anxiety climbing as he knew you needed more first aid than he could provide at the moment. You needed the Marauder, you needed his med kit that he carefully stocked and kept safe on board the Marauder. At this point in time, he didn’t care about any kriffing snow.

“Snow is an accumulation of packed ice crystals. The condition of the packed crystals determines a variety of attributes, such as colour, temperature and water equivalent. As weather conditions change, the packed ice crystals can change as well, and this affects the characteristics of snow.”

You chuckled at his ability to pull forth information like it was nothing. Unfortunately the chuckle turned to coughing. Only causing you to dribble more blood out of your mouth, you wiped away what you could. He didn’t need to see that, “Tech …” you coughed again, “turn off your brain for two seconds, don’t think and just look. Just watch.”

He pulled the heater closer towards you, “Stop talking and try and warm up.”

“Tech…” you held his hand, “just look.”

His eyes drifted up your body, till he locked eyes with you. They were pleading for him to listen and to just have him appreciate what you found mesmerizing. He tried to follow your advice, focusing on the snow, but all his mind kept drifting back to was this blizzard that was preventing you from getting the medical attention you needed, so desperately. 

He shook his head focusing back on your abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. Trying his best to keep you with him. 

“Tech,” you gripped his wrist “… stop …”

“No.”

His tone was firm and full of anger, why did he agree to let you come with him? If he used his brain instead of allowing his feelings for you to dictate his actions, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Why did you always insist on following him? Why didn’t you just stay behind on Pabu? Simply because you wanted to see the galaxy, and he was excited to show it to you? It was his fault you were here. It was his fault you were in danger. It was his fault he … was going to lose you.

“Tech …” you squeezed his wrist. He removed your hand from his wrist, placing it off to the side as he focused on your wound. He didn’t deserve your touch, he didn’t deserve to have you comfort him. It was his fault you both crashed on this force forsaken planet. 

There was nothing you could do as you watched Tech pull away. 

From the moment you met him on Pabu, the way he worked with Phee as he helped rescue the villagers when the rogue wave was rushing towards the island, and the way he helped make everything more ‘efficient,’ you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. You wanted to learn from him, to listen to him go on with regards to anything and everything. Only problem was you never had the courage to actually utter the words you were dying to. Phee told you time and time again, ‘later’ was never a guarantee, and now as you lay on the cold floor of the cavern you were in, bleeding out of your abdomen, you realized how little time there was left. 

  Tears welled up in your eyes, as you realized you needed to unburden yourself. You needed to tell him what had been pressing on your heart before you didn’t have the strength to, it didn’t help that you were feeling weaker with each passing second. Also didn’t help that you could tell he was angry, actually a more accurate description would be infuriated, more than likely at you.

“I’m sorry.” You offered the only apology you could. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden, even now.” You took in a shuddering breath as Tech stopped moving his hands for two seconds as he focused on your face. “I’m sorry for always pestering you to teach me,” you offered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for not listening,” a tear slid down your cheek, “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. To have to feel responsible for someone like me.” 

He shook his head, his teeth clenched as his anger, grief, fear, and sadness overwhelmed him completely in that moment. He pulled off his helmet and placed it beside him. 

“Stop.” It was his only command.

“Please, I …” you coughed again, trying to not cough on him. “I just want … I need to …”

He cut off your speech as his hand cupped your cheek, “Cyar’ika …” tears welled up in his eyes, “you were … are never a burden.” He couldn’t believe that’s what you thought of him… that’s what you believed he felt for you. He shook his head again as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have loved every second we have spent together. I made a point to record every moment with you, because they were more precious to me than breathing.”

You held on to his bicep, keeping him close as tears streamed down your cheek, “Tech … I … I don’t want to go… I want … I want to stay here with you…”

“You’re not going anywhere. I just got you …” his tears landed on your cheeks, mixing with your own, “you’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Hold me… please… just hold me until…I can’t feel your arms anymore.”

“I’ll hold you longer than that,” Tech pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he felt your body grow weaker. Your eyes were closed, your body was growing pale. He was so focused on you, he didn’t hear the voices calling out to him, at least not until he felt Hunter’s hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wait, there were no more seconds to lose. He rushed towards the Marauder with you in his arms, he wasn’t going to lose you. He promised. He was going to bring you back.

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Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[har-rison-s]

tell me i'm good | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: ohmygod you guys why did this take me like almost 3 weeks....... mnadfahsdf anyways um this might be like the last chapter idk ???!!!! what would you guys like me to do.... cos im kinda losing my grip on coryo rn, im at the end of my tbosas copy and im just so disgusted w him idek ???? but uhh yeah. sorry i'm a bit of a mess lately. i did have some little things i could be including in further writings, like y/n meeting tigris, or y/n reuniting w coryo after he returns from 12, but there's not much material for like whole chapters, idk. hope you at least enjoy this and let me know if u guys have any ideas!! happy reading <3

previous chapter

coryo masterlist main masterlist

word count: 4.2k

themes: little angst, smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, fingering, praise, sorta sub!coryo cos that's what i live for. coryo has a praise kink, sue me

gif credit goes to author / owner &lt;3

usually Coriolanus would feel unease in a rich family’s home, like y/n’s was. unease because he felt like he belonged there, in homes like that, but he didn’t exactly deserve to. the snow name had fallen to ruin and bankruptcy because of district twelve, and they’d been living in hunger with barely any money since then. it had made Coriolanus lose the confidence he wanted to regain, about himself and the way he carried his family name. 

he always put on a certain stance and grace when walking into homes like this, a way that would never make the hosts doubt he came from a place any different than this. being in homes like this made him feel ashamed of his living conditions. he was grateful towards Tigris for putting in her efforts to upkeep their home, but he could never escape the fact that this wasn’t how they were supposed to live, it gnawed at him day and night. and when he was in homes like this, Coriolanus felt uneasy because his home was nothing like these ones.

but when it was just him and y/n in her shower, her bathroom and her bedroom, he felt none of that unease or shame. he did feel a little envious, but that’s where it ended. the other spiteful and loathing feelings he usually felt were gone. perhaps it was just her effect on him that did it, but he felt like admitting that would make him vulnerable. he knew it, just didn’t want to admit to himself. to her – always. he couldn’t hide her effect on him if he tried.

the one difference he realized between her home and his was that the outside world was completely quiet here. from the snow penthouse Coriolanus could hear street noises – rats, people, cars, trams. grandma’am’s singing was really the worst of the noises, but that was a different case. it almost spooked him how quiet it was here. he liked it. lying beside y/n in her bed, both of them wearing pyjama shirts and underwear, he glanced at her reading a book that looked older than anything he’d seen before.

“i thought most books were burned in the war, or even in the old world,” Coryo admitted to her and watched as corners of y/n’s lips tugged into a gentle smile at that. she had her back against the headboard, and could look down at Coryo. she didn’t, her eyes were still on the tiny words printed on the pages.

“they were,” she said, “my mother got only three as a gift when she was a kid. they were her most prized possessions, she always had them with her.” y/n sighed. “they survived the war, it seems, and everything else, and joined my father’s library.” she finally looked at him and smiled. she closed the book, but not without leaving a bookmark where she had stopped, and shoved it onto her nightstand. she shut off the light and slid to lay beside Coryo. her hand under her pillow, she looked at him moving to lay on his side to face her, tucking his hands under his pillow, too. she smiled and Coryo mirrored that, too. 

“grandma’am has some books at home,” he said to her, “but i’m sure she hasn’t touched them in ages,” he added and made y/n laugh. 

“do you think Lucy Gray has books at home?” y/n asked suddenly, and Coryo’s expression changed. he’d completely forgot about her until y/n mentioned her just now. she was still in the arena, hiding from Coral and the others. y/n looked into his eyes as the motions changed in the blue of them. “her songs do sound like ones from a book,” she added in an innocent voice, still waiting for any sort of answer from Coryo.

he huffed. “they sure do,” he replied quietly, shortly, “but they’re her own. at least the ones she’s sang so far,” he said then and looked down between him and y/n. 

“i really loved the one she sang when you were supposed to have your interview,” y/n admitted, “the very first words, something about when she was younger, she fell into hollers and now when she’s a girl, she fell into that mystery boy’s arms. those really touched my heart,” she said with a smile and still looked to Coryo. he shyly looked into her eyes, “made me think of you.” she all but mumbled quietly. 

he made a half-smile. “really?” he asked and she confirmed with a nod. 

“sounds like me and Lucy Gray were both angry little ladies when we were younger,” y/n said and rolled over onto her back, “i certainly was. gave my parents and the babysitters pains,” she sighed, “i do regret being hard on them, but i never regret anger that i had, whatever it might have been about.” she turned her head to Coryo, who had suspected that she’d turned away from him all together by laying on her back now. but she didn’t turn away. just felt shy. “mother used to say there would never be a boy who liked me if i was always this angry,” y/n said and hummed quietly. 

“well, she was wrong,” Coryo immediately said and reached a hand out to stroke her delicate cheek, “i like you, and not just because you’re angry, but it’s a good characteristic to have,” he said and it made y/n turn to lay on her side to face him again, a smile on her face. he did like her anger, it showed courage. but it unnerved him sometimes, just like Sejanus did when he spoke up against teachers, dr Gaul or anyone else higher standing. y/n and Sejanus could both get into serious trouble just by being themselves. oh, but isn’t it fun, Coriolanus, to have such strong, different people around you?

“that will prove her wrong when we tell her about us,” y/n said in a hopeful voice, and Coryo nodded before he could respond otherwise. he wanted to give her a smile, but instead he gave her the ghost of one, his thoughts slithering away elsewhere. 

“do you think... it’s good arms that you’re falling into? my arms?” he asked, wondering the worth of those lyrics to her. and his worth to her, and overall. she’d practically just admitted that she had fallen into his arms, into him, so he had to know. he had his anxieties about what he did in the arena not too many hours ago, about what it could mean, what it could change, who would find out. now that his mind wasn’t entirely preoccupied with other things and she had reminded him about Lucy Gray, Coriolanus’ thoughts ran wild again. 

y/n put her hand on his cheek and stroked her thumb over his pearly skin. she wasn’t sure about her answer. believing Coryo was good was different than him actually being good, and she’d always believed her own good thoughts of people who weren’t entirely good rather than seeing them for who they truly were and accepting that. she knew Coryo wasn’t perfect, not really, under the surface, and sometimes he made very strange compromises. but not to her. he’d always been good to her. “i think so,” she said finally, quietly, “you’re good to me.”

he shook his head, and her hand moved to his lips and then back to his cheek again. Coryo felt a surge of euphoria at her fingers against his lips. “i try to be, but...” he looked into her eyes, “i don’t know if i am good.” he admitted and y/n’s eyes gave him a puzzled glance. “i couldn’t tell you before, but,” he took a deep breath, “i killed one of the tributes. in the arena.” he finally said, no distractions, no avoiding the subject, just straight-forward truth. laying himself and his actions out in the open. 

y/n’s eyebrows puzzled, then drew together as her eyes searched all over, then looked to a spot between her and Coryo. he’d killed someone. he’d killed a kid and then just gone to her home and... without telling her about it. truly, he was in shambles when she saw him, and could hardly get a word out, but... she took her hand away and curled it under her pillow. she felt used. she didn’t look at him, though Coryo wanted to beg her to do so, to say anything, do anything. anything other than this silence. 

“did you come here with... those intentions? did you want to just... sleep with me and then go back to your home?” she asked him finally, all kinds of thoughts were racing through her mind. “like i’m just some...” profanities circled her mind.

Coryo shook his head at her voiced assumptions and scooted closer to her under her covers. he’d made her upset, but not in the way he’d anticipated. girls do have a different view of everything, they really do. “no, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” he told her. wasn’t it? “i didn’t want to go home,” he said, “i just ran and ran until i recognized your house and... i just knew it was the right place to be. i couldn’t be with anyone else, y/n,” he almost pleaded. she gave him a glance.

“and what then? i wasn’t inviting you to do all these things to me, with me,” she said, suddenly feeling nauseaus from the thoughts she was having, the assumptions that clouded her mind and swam into her words, “you wanted to.”

“i did want to, and no, it wasn’t—ugh,” Coryo turned to lay on his back, “i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. you-you’re where i feel the safest. and... you are irresistible to me, as i’ve said before.” he turned to lay on his side again, where y/n had pulled into herself more, her arms around her own frame, eyes staring blankly into her bedding. “you’re not just someone to me, i would never use you like that,” Coryo assured her, and y/n looked into his eyes finally. he felt relief, if only momentary. she’d looked at him, at least, “i couldn’t even tell you what you mean to me. too much, is what you mean to me.”

he offered her a smile, but she just looked back at him. “so what we did wasn’t just a distraction for you?” she asked in a quiet voice, and Coryo shook his head, happy they were on the same page finally. 

“no, y/n, it meant the world to me,” he told her, “and so do you.” he promised and managed that smile again. she believed him. she didn’t care that it could make her a fool later – that was later, and not now. now she was his world, she was his solace, his comfort, his safe place. “i love you,” Coryo said. didn’t i tell you that already? he searched her eyes and she nodded, finally. 

“i love you, too,” she said back and Coryo held her face in his hands with her silent permission, “i just wish i could know what goes on in that head of yours,” she admitted, though fearing it may make Coryo lock himself up and never say a word to her again. some would call knowing what the other is thinking an invasion of privacy, but she didn’t see it that way, and neither did Coryo.

“i wonder the same thing about you,” he admitted back and y/n raised her eyebrows momentarily at that statement, a little surprised, though she was glad to hear that he felt the same way, “i never want to make you feel worthless to me, y/n, i—”

she shook her head, “you can’t really control that,” she pointed out.

“but i want to try,” he said, and thought that it would be best if he could control every aspect of how she felt about him or what he made her feel. her anxieties were out of his hands, but he wanted them to go away, and wanted to do his best for her to not have them at all. not plant the seeds for those anxieties. 

“tell me about it,” she urged him after again shaking her head gently at him. she tucked her face closer to his, “did you do it for Lucy Gray?” she asked and looked up into his eyes again.

“well, yes,” he answered, “but he would have killed me and Sejanus, too. it was...”

“self-defense?” she asked and Coryo nodded. “they sent you in there after him and didn’t even provide protection.” protection from who? kids who have been pushed out into an arena, onto a stage, and told to perform and survive? 

“that was the catch, yes,” Coryo said, “he ran after us, though he was limping, and attacked us. i didn’t...” he gulped and looked down, “i didn’t want to hurt him, but... i felt something, and i... couldn’t stop.” y/n looked into his eyes. “i don’t feel... i don’t think i’m the same anymore.”

y/n pulled him into an embrace, his head against her chest, damp curls tickling her neck, and held him tightly. it was almost like cradling him, so gently, comfortingly, offering her solace. she didn’t know what to say to him, what words to offer. it seemed they’d all ran out. the smart-mouth y/n had nothing to say for the first time in her life. 

“do you still think i’m good?” Coryo asked quietly, his voice muffled. y/n sighed, her eyelids fluttering, eyes turning glassy as no doubt Coryo’s were too, she could hear his voice on the whiny, sob tone. he needed comfort, reassurance.

“i think you can be,” she told him her honest thoughts quietly, despite knowing it wasn’t a direct answer to his question. Coryo gulped and pulled back, just to look at her, just to hold her, too. 

“tell me i’m good,” he pleaded and took her face in his hands again. y/n felt confused, and looked at him with eyes very much expressing that, but couldn’t stop herself from what she said next. 

“you’re good,” she assured in an unsure voice, and was taken aback by Coryo kissing her. hard, sudden, urgent, desperate. she could hardly draw breath, his teeth were clashing against hers, lips hungry on hers, tongue licking at her teeth, the inside of her mouth, hungry, starving, desperate, “you’re good.” she said again, still sounding unsure but less than the first time. Coryo whimpered into her mouth at her words, he felt himself twitch beneath the fabric of his loaned pyjama pants. seriously? he asked himself at first. but then, this is good. this is doing something good for you. listen to her, “you’re good, Coryo,” y/n gasped into his mouth. she could feel him against her inner thigh now that their bodies were intertwining again. Coryo moved his lips to her neck, nipping, licking, softly biting, suckling at her skin, drawing out the most delicious of noises out of her, only making himself more desperately aroused from it, more desperate for her, “Coryo, you’re...” she couldn’t even finish her sentence as she writhed in his hold, her hands grasping at the skin under his shirt, fingers teasingly slipping between his hot skin and the elastic of his pyjama pants. 

“say it,” he reminded her in a whisper, a request in the disguise of a whine. Coryo grinded his hips against y/n’s, drove his growing length against her cunt, and found warmth there immediately. y/n almost cried out her next words, the heat between her and Coryo making her nearly as desperate as him. desperate for each other, like bitches in heat.

“you’re so good, Coryo,” she squeezed out and pushed her hips up against his. she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back on the bed, his back on her soft-as-ever pillows, and his eyes looking up at her. she just adored the sight of him like this, but couldn’t hold herself away from kissing him, stopping her short adoration of him. he needed her. he needed her support. so she’d give him that. she had always been ready to do that. take care of him. she’d done that in another way time and time over already.

she took his hand and pushed it in her pyjama bottoms, and Coryo groaned, relishing at touching her at her most vulnerable part again, this ever-inviting slick warmth that was all his to touch, to please, to discover. 

“touch me, Coryo,” she breathed onto his lips, and he nodded in half a second. so compliant, so obedient, doing what he’s told. afraid for what may come if he doesn’t. afraid of the chaos that comes for not following orders. always melting like chocolate under her hot touch, compliant to her. his fingers ran through her folds, covered in slick, making her gasp and arch her back, hair in the air. Coryo watched her in awe, in adoration. she was a goddess above him. assuring him he was good, telling him what to do, listening to him, falling apart under his touch, such an effortlessly beautiful girl. he had lucked out. Coryo kept his eyes on her face as he pushed two of his fingers inside her walls. it made y/n sigh and shudder in relief, he was delicate on her soreness, like balm on a bruise, “Coryo,” she moaned and felt his fingers curl inside of her, making her eyes roll back into her head, “fuck, you’re so good for me, Coryo.” 

he nodded again, eyelids fluttering and lips stretching into a smile. her words and noises fed his ego and flattered his heart that so longed for words of praise and recognition. they also made his hard-on grow in his pyjama pants, and he felt kind of shameful for it. he grazed her walls with his fingertips and felt how it made her shudder sitting above him, her cunt squeezing him in, her thighs tightening around his hips—locked in. Coryo moaned, he felt his hand between his clothed, growing erection and her cunt, and it was the perfect squeeze. her warmth pressing against his own, pulling him in. he pumped his fingers faster inside her, delicious sounds from her cunt going straight to his erection.

“Coryo,” y/n mewled and rocked her hips on his hand. he could tell she was desperate, and that meant she was close, too. she was nearly crying, her soreness from before joining the immense pleasure Coryo was providing, “be good for me and make me come, Coryo, please,” she half-pleaded, half-commanded, and Coryo nodded again, beyond turned on but still so focused. his other hand reached around her hips and pushed a splayed palm on the small of her back, pushing her core more into his hand, down onto his length. y/n groaned and gasped for him, but she took his hand and guided it up her pyjama shirt, over her breast, and made him squeeze the flesh of it. that made her whimper and only yearn for her release more. she was oh-so-close, about to fall over that sweet edge for the second time that night. 

Coryo pulled his trump move of pressing a digit against her clit and ground his hips up against hers again, trying to maintain a rhythm, and knew that was it, he could feel the difference in her body immediately. she jerked, and her thighs trembled—she was so sensitive still—and she drew ragged breaths. y/n collapsed on top of Coryo as she came, uttering his name under her breath, and he drew his hand from under her shirt to wrap it around her frame to just make her feel his ever-long support. her hair in his face, they were both gasping for air, skin on skin, and Coryo didn’t even realise until he felt not just her wetness on his fingers, but his own under his hand, soaking through his pyjama pants, that he’d come, too. he hardly even felt it, unlike that first time just a mere hour or two ago. his cheeks blushed a bright pink on his pale skin and he tremendously, though stupidly, hoped she wouldn’t notice. 

but when she kissed his cheek and his neck after regaining herself, he sort-of forgot about the little detail, melting into her affections on him. “Coryo, you did so good for me,” y/n quietly praised him and then raised her head to look at him. he shyly looked into her eyes and managed a smile in response. what she did next surprised him immensely. she reached her hand into her pyjama pants and gathered her own white honeydew liquid on her fingers and then drew that hand of hers to Coryo’s own lips, “taste me,” she breathed with a compelling spell on her tongue that had Coryo not even thinking twice before he did as he was told. 

she slid her fingers in-between his pretty bow lips, watching it happen with hungry eyes all the while, and Coryo welcomed her digits with delight. his tongue swirled around her fingers as he sucked her liquid off them, and moaned at the taste of her, all the while keeping his eyes on hers. she grinned faintly, just adoring the sight of her fingers in his mouth, his messy curls and pink cheeks. y/n leaned down close to his face and pulled her fingers out slowly, his tongue following right after them. she trailed her fingers across his lips, tracing their edges and corners as Coryo parted them wider, she looked onto him with insatiable hunger, turning him into a complete puddle under her. she kissed his lips with her hand across his cheek, thumb digging into the corner of his lips, right in the middle of her kisses. it turned Coryo on again, even though he deemed it impossible. 

“how am i?” y/n asked quietly with a smile on her lips, and Coryo returned the expression. 

“sweet like sugar,” he told her the absolute truth, making y/n smile wider. he lightly bit into her thumb as he looked up at her, “we both need to change pyjama pants,” he said quietly, suddenly shy. y/n looked down at between them, which was the last thing Coryo wanted her to do, but the look on her face assured him altogether. 

“oh, Coryo, that’s alright,” she assured him about his accident and caressed his cheek with her hand, bearing the sweetest face of all as she looked at him, “don’t be sorry.” she pleaded and Coryo nodded with a true smile on his pink bow lips. he clearly enjoyed listening to her telling him what to do, and had no problem obeying her. “we’ll find some in the laundry room. but after that we’re really going to bed,” she said, and he nodded again, “you do need your rest for tomorrow.” 

right, tomorrow. the games were still on, and Coryo was required to attend. he should be walking into Heavensbee hall high and proud—if no one had killed Lucy Gray during the night, of course—acting his best and looking his best, pretending like there was not a scratch on him. another day, another act. though, could he really hide something like what he’d done tonight from the whole world? they were watching, for sure.

“will you be there with me, tomorrow?” he asked as y/n pulled him up from the bed, and she looked up at him with a special glint in her eyes. she could cry at his earnest question. he wanted her there. maybe her little fantasy of them walking into Heavensbee hall hand in hand finally could become reality. they’d kept up the casual classmate relationship appearance to everyone else so far, no one even suspected a thing of the slightest bit of friendship between them. it should be pretty obvious, but their classmates proved otherwise.

y/n squeezed his hand hard in hers and gave him the biggest smile, “of course i will,” she assured him, “if you want me to be there, with you, in front of everyone.” she pointed out and seemed to be asking him a question without actually asking him.

Coryo realized then that this night between them had changed everything. especially this last intimate exchange, but he didn’t exactly know why. it just had changed his whole attitude towards her and their secret friendship that had recently turned into a relationship. he didn’t even care that anyone knew now, in fact – he wanted to show her off to the whole world, he wanted them all to know that he was with her, that he had landed her, that he belonged to her. that was with him, that she loved him, that they loved each other. nothing else mattered to him, really. he forgot about the rest of the world when he was with her.

“i do want that, yes,” Coryo told her with pride on his face, “i want them all to see us.” he said simply, but implied much more, his eyes expressing conviction and charisma, and he made y/n smile wide. smile like she was the happiest girl in the world. with Coryo, she might just be that.

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