#third stage: bargaining | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leaderwon · 1 year ago

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come back i still need you

paring : nonidol!jungwon x reader

warnings : character death, ANGST left and right, mentions of being depressed

word count : 1.5k

luna's diary : kinda shed a tear writing this

IT HAD BEEN, 3 weeks and 6 days, since you left him.

He was stuck in the endless loop of the 4th stage of grief. Depression, and was left wondering if he'll ever move forward to the next stage and accept your death.

Oh how cruel the world was. Taking away his lover and the plans for the future you guys had carefully planned.

You guys were walking on the street on the day it happened. Giggles filling the both of your bodies as a silver band of ring with a small diamond shined on your ring finger. He had just proposed to you, with promises of giving you everything he had to offer, of staying by your side until his last breath, to grow up even more and have little yous running around. Maybe you could get a dog and a cat and live in a beautiful home.

And then it happened.

He still remembers the way you shoved him to the side as a car came speeding towards you. Your yells still ringing in his ears from the past 3 weeks.

He remembers slowly walking to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

2 days later, it was your funeral. As everyone showed him sympathy and gave him hugs. He was still in denial. The first stage of grief. He couldn't even count the amount of times he heard "let me know if you need anything, Jungwon". He needed you back in his arms, but none of the people could give him that. There's no way you could have just left, right? What about the promises? The home? The dog and the cat? mini yous?

Few days later, he slowly slipped into the second stage of grief. Anger. He was mad at no one but himself. He should have been the one to die, not an angel like you. The car should have hit him. Not you. Or maybe he was mad at you too? why would you sacrifice yourself and leave him alone?

Then came in the third stage of grief. Bargain. He prayed and prayed that this would be a long painful nightmare. No way the world could have been so cruel on him. He was just 20 wanting to see life with you by his side, there's no way his fate was written like this.

After realising that this wasn't a dream, and you really were gone, entered the 4th stage of grief. Depression. He was an empty void as he laid on his bed all day leaving all his friends worried. He only got up to eat, which was very rare by the way. Leaving the texts his friends sent him on delivered, he read the last conversation you had with him. Where he mentioned the date and that he had a surprise for you and your excited text messages as a small smile crept on his lips. How he wished he never took you out.

Come back. He still needs you.

It was a new day as the sun shone through Jungwon's curtains. Today, was your one month anniversary, of you getting engaged and also since you left. Today was the worst of all days. It had been a month? no way. "i wish i could turn back time and change everything" he mumbled.

"Time" he jolted up as he remembered something you said about turning back time. Hope rushed through his eyes as he swiftly got out of his bad and rushed to take a shower and get ready. He could not believe he did not think of this sooner. Getting dressed, he rushed out of his home. Coming back taking the ring you once wore in his hands and heading to his car.

"I'm going to get you back, my love"

20 minutes later he reached your apartment. He did not have the courage to step into your apartment after your death. Opening the door he smelled your familiar scent for the first time in a month. Not wanting to waste time, he got in and rummaged through your belongings. "Where is it, god damn".

Finally spotting the shiny wooden box. He picked it up seeing a necklace with a tiny clock in it. Wearing it, he saw as it started to glow.

"How may I help you today?" a voice spoke out as he looked at a beautiful woman in front of him.

"Who must you be? you're not one of them" The voice continued referring to your blood line. "I'm Yang Jungwon, I lost my lover in a car accident, exactly a month ago from now"

"You wish to bring her back?" The voice questioned him. "Yes I need to please. She mentioned about this pendent to me a while back. You need to help me" He replied begging. "Jungwon, I'd suggest you move on. You'll lose yourself if anything goes downhill, and there are less number of chances of it going good and it going bad." The female figure said showing sympathy. "Please, miss. I don't have anything to lose anymore, she was my everything" He said breaking down into a sob.

Sighing, she touched the pendent on his colar. "What time do you want to go to?" she asked giving in. "Exactly a month ago" He said as the necklace started to glow again. "Goodluck, Jungwon" she said.

He was going to make sure you were alive. But at what cost?

In a blink of an eye, he was back. On the street, with you. "I honestly didn't expect you to do it today" Your voice said. Oh how he missed your voice, to see your face in front of him again and to hold his hand. He suddenly remembered why he was here as he became hyper-aware of his surroundings. He knew the car would be coming your way any second. Before he could think of changing your position, it was too late. The car was already coming towards you at an increasing pace. There was no way he could save the both of you.

So he did what he initially came back for.

He saved you.

Shoving your body to the side, he felt the car hit him as he lost consciousness. The last thing he saw was you standing and looking at him in utter shock. Atleast you were safe and alive.

"Jungwon? baby hey, wake up" you cradled his face and broke down into sobs, the same way he did, in another time line. You left a peck on his forehead as you left him there rushing to your apartment.

I'm not going to lose you Jungwon. Not like this.

You rummaged through your belongings, the same way he did. Wearing the pendent, you wished to go back 20 minutes from your present.

You were back with him, on the same street, holding his hand as you listened to him talk to you. You knew the time was near as you walked faster looking for a turn that could divert you form the path in which it was about to happen. Before you could find something, you heard the car's tire screech behind you. There was no way you could save the both of you.

So you did what you initially came for.

You saved him.

You shoved him to the side as the car came in contact with your body. The last thing you saw, was him. Atleast he was safe and alive.

He slowly walked to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

Fast forward to him wishing of going back to a month prior to save you. He managed to save you, but lost his life. Not being able to manage with the grief of him gone, you tried to save him. You managed to do so, but you lost yours in exchange. And this continued.

The woman was right afterall when she warned the two you.

Trying to save eachother, the both of you were stuck and lost yourselves in an endless time loop.

@leaderwon 2024. Do not copy, translate,alter or plagarize in any platform.

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yourreddancer · 9 days ago

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HEARTLESS: Republican Rep. Tim Burchett says he's voting to gut Medicaid because sick and disabled Americans should "get off their ass and get a job."

Tennessee voters, are you paying attention?

In Tennessee, approximately 1.6 million people are covered by Medicaid, also known as TennCare. This represents about 19% of the state's total population, according to KFF. While the majority of enrollees are children and adults, the state spends a larger portion of its Medicaid budget on the elderly and people with disabilities, according to KFF.

Save the video for a campaign ad in 2026

Tell me what job the nursing home residents are going to get.

He was never on the fence on this bill, they were always a yes! Remember that when these Republicans are up for running again and VOTE them OUT!

Working people get help from medicaid to help the sick with medicine & treatments. These people have health insurance but some insurances don't/want pay.

Having a job doesn’t guarantee health insurance. There are tight-ass employers who make sure they don’t have to provide it by hiring only part-time, or it’s too expensive for the employee to sign up for it.

What job can a 70 year old with rheumatoid arthritis and balance issues do? Who would hire a 70-year-old?

Notice to Democrats….run this video on a loop at midterms.

"Walmart is a top employer of Medicaid beneficiaries in many states. A study by the Government Accountability Office found that a large portion of Walmart employees were on Medicaid and SNAP.

from FB

Char Generaux

"You've made your choice, MAGA faithful, and now comes the reckoning you never bothered to imagine.

The policies you cheered from the sidelines take on a different complexion when they land on your doorstep, when the theoretical becomes brutally personal.

You celebrated the promise of economic nationalism without considering that tariffs increase your grocery bills. You applauded immigration crackdowns without recognizing that your community's agricultural economy depends on the very workers being deported.

You endorsed authoritarian power without grasping that authoritarians eventually turn on everyone, including their most devoted supporters.

The tragedy isn't just your miscalculation, it's your willful blindness to history's clearest lessons.

Every populist strongman begins by promising to punish "them" while protecting "us", yet the distinction inevitably collapses under the weight of absolute power.

The machinery of oppression, once constructed, operates with its own inexorable logic. You believed that you were exempt from the consequences, that your loyalty will serve as permanent immunity. But Power recognizes no such bargains.

The same forces you unleashed to devastate your perceived enemies will ultimately consume you with equal indifference.

The bitter irony is that you'll likely blame everyone except yourself when the reality you created becomes unbearable.

But by then, the institution that might have protected you will be long gone, dismantled by your own enthusiastic applause."

HIDDEN IN PAGES 300-500 OF HIS BILL GIVES HIM THE AUTHORITY TO INTERFERE WITH VOTES AND SERVE A THIRD TERM OR MORE!!

YOU PEOPLE CRIED "USELESSLY" ABOUT BENEFITS!... THAT'S THE ABSOLUTE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS!!

AND YOU THOUGHT the recent staged and fake arguments with MUSK put him on your side - deflection!...

Soooo, only the POOR and VETERANS commit fraud??... no RICH?? No POLITICIANS? The RICH are the only HONEST and "GOD FEARING" on earth??

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angegiarratanawriter · 8 months ago

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Too Long

Warnings: Smut, GP!Character

Word Count: 4676

Summary: When you sit on Angela’s lap during a Smosh Live, you end up getting a little more than you bargained for

A/N: Instead of writing for Angela's birthday, I wrote for my own. Happy Halloween everyone!

Five days. It’s been five days since the last time you had sex with your girlfriend. While that isn’t necessarily a long time, it’s well above the average time you go between sleeping together, and it has you frustrated. It doesn’t help that Angela has been teasing you all week, either. It’s just a few sly little comments here and there, nothing that would out your relationship to the rest of the cast or the viewers, but enough that it’s driving you crazy.

Figuring that it’s time to get Angela back for everything that she’s done this week, you formulate a plan that is sure to rile her up in the best way possible. The live stream happening right now is the perfect opportunity, so you head down to the stage where it’s shooting. You open the door and quietly shut it behind you, then turn around to see your girlfriend sitting on the games couch playing video games with Shayne, Chanse, Courtney, and Amanda.

“Hey, Y/N,” Alex says as you walk deeper into the room. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” you reply. “Was just curious about what they were playing this week.”

“Mario Party. Winners version.”

“Nice.”

“You want to hop in?” Alex asks. “They could all use some help.”

“Sure. Do you want me to mic up?”

“Please.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back in a minute.”

You walk over to the other side of the room, where the sound team is monitoring the live stream. One of them immediately comes over with another mic and helps you put it on, clipping it to the front of your shirt before handing you the transmitter. You slip it into your back pocket as you turn around and head back over to Alex. He waits until Chanse finishes his turn, then nods at you to go out.

“I heard you guys could use a little help,” you say, smiling as your castmates look up from the television. “Who’s winning?”

“Shayne, of course,” Amanda says with a little eye roll. “The rest of us suck.”

“Hey, do not!” Chanse says, half offended. “But I would not be opposed to a team up.”

“Alex, who do you want me with?” you ask, looking back at the director.

“Who ever’s in last place,” Alex replies.

“That would be me,” Angela says with an adorable pout on her face.

“Oh, this is so not fair,” Courtney says, throwing her head back. “She’s a professional gamer.”

“I’m really not,” you murmur, blushing a little bit.

“Really? What’s you CoD ranking again?”

“3rd? But it might have gone down because I haven’t had as much time to play.”

“3rd in the country is pretty good,” Shayne says.

“Uh, I’m not-”

“She means third in the world, babe,” Courtney says.

“Well, we’re fucked,” Amanda breathes out.

“Wait a minute, do we have CoD?” Chanse asks.

“I think we have Modern Warfare,” Alex replies from behind the camera. “Why?”

“What if we played that instead?”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in forth place,” Amanda teases.

“No, think about it. We have one of the best players in the world right here and we’re gonna play Mario Party? I mean, I just think it would be cooler to see if we can beat her.”

“I’m down,” Angela says. “Let’s see what Chat says.”

“They’re down,” Alex says as he scrolls through comments on his laptop. “Alright, let’s switch it over to the PS4.”

When two of the tech guys come onto the stage and get to work on switching the consoles, you decide that now is the perfect time to shoot your shot. You walk over to where Angela is sitting on the couch, but instead of plopping down next to her, you sit on her lap. She lets out a strangled gasp behind you, but she recovers quickly enough to play it off when she catches a couple of confused looks.

As soon as everyone’s attention is elsewhere, you subtly shift your ass back so that it’s pressed directly into Angela’s cock. It’s already semi-hard, which isn’t really a surprise, but as you settle into position, you can feel it getting harder. A flood of warmth rushes to your core, and it takes every ounce of self control that you have to keep yourself from rolling your hips back into her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Angela whispers, leaning in to your ear.

“Sitting?” you reply, shooting a purposely confused look over your shoulder.

“Don’t be fucking smart with me. You won’t like what you get from it.”

“Really? Because I think I’m getting exactly what I want.”

“And what’s that?” Angela grits out, trying to keep her voice low.

“Revenge,” you say, sending her a smirk over your shoulder. “I’ve had to take care of myself the last two nights. I think this is the least you deserve.”

“Wait, what?”

“Sex, Ange. We haven’t had any since Sunday morning.”

“Fuck, it can’t have been…”

“It was.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Angela says, looking genuinely upset. “How can I make it up to you, baby?”

“I have a few ideas.”

Angela opens her mouth to reply, but one of the tech guys comes over and hands you each a controller, and then Alex is getting everything set up. He loads up the game, and from there goes into the multiplayer server. Everyone connects their controllers to the console, and then you all start selecting your weapons. As soon as you’re done with that, you choose one of the easier 6 vs 6 maps and start the game.

Over the course of the next half an hour, you find yourself picking off enemy fighters one by one. It’s easy, none of your castmates play at the level that you do, and neither do any of the other players that are on the multiplayer server. You rack up a number of double and triple kills before deciding to turn it down a notch so that some of your teammates can have the fun.

Once you pull back a little bit, you start manhunting for individual castmates on the enemy team every round. You start with Courtney, who ends up being relatively easy to track and take out from a distance, and then you go after Shayne, who you sneak up on while he’s trying to kill Chanse. After a few rounds of honing your hunting skills, Alex calls for the last round and you decide that it’s time to go after your girlfriend.

Trying to hunt down Angela is a little bit harder than hunting down everyone else, if only because she had played with you enough times to know most of your tricks. She manages to avoid any open spaces, instead posting up inside a building that only has one entrance. You managed to sneak inside while she distracted by an enemy combatant out the window, but she manages to turn around just in time to shoot you at the same time you shoot her.

“NO!” you say, watching the kill screen flash across your part of the TV.

“Holy shit, Angela!” Chanse says excitedly. “You just killed her!”

“I think we might have found the one video game you’re actually good at,” Shayne says.

“If I was actually good at it, I wouldn’t have died,” Angela says, though she’s smiling.

“You should give yourself more credit,” you say, looking over your shoulder at your girlfriend. “You’re only like, the fourteenth person to kill me.”

“Fourteenth?” Amanda asks, impressed.

“Yeah, I don’t die often, especially in multiplayer.”

“That’s impressive,” Shayne admits. “You want to sign us off?”

“Sure!” you say, turning to look at the camera. “This was so much fun guys! Please let us know what you want to see next, or if we should do this again. Don’t forget to subscribe and turn on notifications so you never miss a live stream. Until next time, bye guys!”

“Bye!” your castmates echo.

The little light that indicates that the video feed is live goes off, and you immediately let out a sigh as you sink back into Angela. She puts her hands on your waist to steady you, but you know that you have to get up within the next couple of seconds if you want to avoid questioning from your castmates. With a heavy breath, you get up and then reach back to offer your girlfriend a hand. She takes it, letting you help her up with a small smile.

“How’d you get so good at CoD, Ange?” Chanse asks. “You and Shayne were the only two people besides Y/N who could play. I expected him, but you…”

“We play together a lot,” Angela replies with a shrug. “Usually we’re on the same team, so playing against her was a little different, but I think it was fun.”

“It was,” you say with a smile. “I’m still major league impressed that you killed me.”

“It was a lucky shot. I just happened to turn around with with my finger already on the trigger.”

“Still, it was impressive,” Amanda says.

“Maybe,” Angela says with a shrug. “Anyways, we should probably head out. The crew is gonna wanna go home at some point.”

“True,” Courtney agrees. “Shayne and I were gonna grab some drinks at the bar down the street, do you guys want to join us?”

“Yeah, I’m down,” Chanse says. “Manda?”

“Sure,” Amanda replies, before looking over at you and Angela. “You guys in?”

“Sorry, but I’ve got a couple things that I need to finish up for a project,” Angela replies.

“And I have a meeting with my agent, so I’m out,” you reply, feeling a little bit guilty for the blatant lie that just came out of your mouth. “Rain check?”

“Of course, any time,” Courtney says. “Well, good luck with your stuff, see you all next week.”

Everyone says their goodbyes, and then you all start heading out towards the main office space. You stop by your desk to grab your bag, then head over to meet Angela by hers so that you can head out together. As soon as she’s gathered her stuff, you walk out to her car together in comfortable silence. You climb into the passenger side as she hops into the driver’s seat, shutting her door as she puts the keys in the ignition. Before she starts the car, though, she turns to you.

“I’m sorry,” Angela says softly.

“Baby, it’s fine,” you reply, reaching over to take her hand. “I get it, we’re both busy, and sometimes we forget about things that are important to us.”

“Maybe, but I never want to forget to take care of you. You deserve better than that. I truly do want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course I will. I love you, and even though this week has been frustrating, I don’t blame you.”

“So, what can I do?”

“You’re going to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs,” you say, smiling as you see your girlfriend’s eyes darken. “And the only thing that I can remember is your name. Sound good?”

“Definitely,” Angela says, swallowing hard. “Can I add one thing?”

“Of course.”

“I want to wake you up with head every morning for the next week. How does that sound?”

“Fucking amazing.”

“It’s a done deal, then. Let’s go home.”

The drive back to the apartment that you share feels like it takes forever, the tension between you and Angela becoming nearly overwhelming. You spend most of the time in your head, letting your thoughts drift to how sore you’re going to be tomorrow. It isn’t like you mind, you have no obligations past your Zoom meeting with your manager, and honestly, you kind of want your girlfriend to carry you around. It’s incredibly sexy, how strong she is.

Reality comes flooding back in when the car comes to a stop, Angela having just pulled into her designated spot in the underground parking garage. You take a deep breath as you open the door, climbing out and shutting it behind you. Your girlfriend circles the car to take your hand, then she leads you to the elevator. The ride up feels just as long as the drive home, and you can feel your heart start pounding in your chest the higher up you go.

By the time the elevator gets to your floor, you are just about ready to jump Angela. It takes every bit of self control that you have to wait and walk calmly down the hallway to your apartment, but you manage it. You unlock the door and walk inside, immediately kicking your shoes off and hanging your jacket up on the coat rack in the front hall. Angela follows in behind you, getting rid of her outer wear as well.

“I know we need to have dinner, but I really kind of can’t wait to get my hands on you, so-” Angela says, only for you to cut her off.

“Dinner can wait. Take me to bed.”

Angela doesn’t hesitate for even a second, taking a step closer to you and pulling you in for a heated kiss. Her hands move to your waist before traveling down and hooking around your thighs, and you let out a squeak of surprise as she lifts you up off of the ground. You immediately wrap your legs around her and push your chest into hers, wanting as much body contact as physically possible.

As your girlfriend starts down the hallway, you remove your lips from hers and start pressing kisses along her jawline and down her neck. The action is just distracting enough that after a particularly hard nip, Angela tangles her fingers in your hair and pulls you away from the skin that you had been lavishing. Before you have time to pout, she’s kicking open the door to your bedroom and tossing you onto the bed.

You immediately sit up, not wanting to miss anything, and you feel your mouth go dry as Angela slowly pulls her tank top over her head. She smirks as she walks over to you, reaching down and tugging at the t-shirt you’re wearing. Nodding rapidly, you lift your arms above your head and she rips it off before leaning in and attaching her lips to your collarbone.

“Fuck,” you whine, feeling her nip at a particularly sensitive spot that has your hips bucking. “Baby, I need you. Please.”

“Okay,” Angela says, coming up to leave a soft kiss on you lips as she pushes you to lay back against the sheets. “Okay.”

When Angela pulls away, she starts moving down your body, her lips cascading down the valley of your breasts before her tongue traces the soft lines of your stomach. Your hips buck up again, and that seems to get your girlfriend moving, because she reaches down and undoes the button of your jeans before pulling the zipper down and ripping them off. As she works your panties down your thighs, you arch your back and undo the clip of your bra, taking it off and tossing it to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Angela murmurs, pressing a kiss into your thigh.

“All for you,” you whine, biting your lip to try to keep your desperation at bay.

Angela hums in appreciation before leaning in and licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. A harsh moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself reaching down to tangle your fingers in your girlfriend’s hair, urging her on. She works you up expertly, spreading you with her tongue one minute and then sucking on your clit to bring you to the edge the next. It’s all so much, but it’s too soon to come, so you use every trick in the book to shove your high down.

As Angela moves from sucking to rapid flicks of her tongue, you feel her push two fingers into you. The sensation of being stretched is almost enough to throw you over the edge, but you manage to hang on by a thread. Your self control don’t stay intact for long, though, because as soon as she curls her fingers and hits that spot along your front wall, your thighs are clamping shut as waves of pleasure roll down your spine.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your free hand twisting in the bedsheets. “Baby…”

“So good for me,” Angela says as she starts to work you down from your high. “Such a good girl.”

An aftershock wracks through your body at the praise, and you feel yourself blushing at the visceral reaction. You bring your arm up over your face to cover it, trying to hide the embarrassment you feel as you breathe deeply, trying to steady your rapidly beating heart. It doesn’t work, mostly because you can feel Angela pressing soft kisses to your stomach before she works her way up and ends at your lips.

“Mmmm,” you moan, tasting yourself on your girlfriend’s tongue.

“Good?” Angela asks, pulling away.

“More than. My turn?”

“Not tonight. I don’t want to waste time on something that isn’t giving you pleasure.”

“Making you feel good is never a waste. Please?”

“No,” Angela says, shaking her head. “I still have a lot of making up to do, and I want to be able to give you everything you want. I might not be able to do that if you suck me off.”

“Fine,” you say, pouting. “Can I make another request, then? It’s kind of a big one, so you can say no.”

“What is it?”

“Can we not use a condom?”

“Baby, we’ve never…” Angela bites her lip and looks down. “I’ve never…”

“I know it’s a lot, but I want to feel you,” you say, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “But, hey. If you aren’t comfortable or just don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

“If we do this, I have a condition.”

“Anything.”

“We need to get the morning after pill. I love you, so much, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to have a baby with you. I plan on at least having asked you to marry me before we think about you getting pregnant.”

“Deal. And I love you too, by the way.”

Angela smiles sweetly at you before leaning down and pressing her lips to yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away after a few seconds, you whine and try to chase her, but she climbs off of you and stands up. You push your elbows up underneath you, watching as your girlfriend unclips her bra and tosses it away before getting rid of her jeans and boxers. You swallow hard as she walks back towards you, a smirk pulling at her lips.

“Up against the pillows,” Angela murmurs, and you scramble to comply. “Good girl.”

“Fuck, Ange,” you whine. “Stop teasing and get up here with me.”

Your girlfriend doesn’t hesitate to comply, climbing onto the bed and crawling up it until she’s hovering over you. As she gets herself settled, you wrap your legs around her hips, shivering when you feel her hard cock press against your stomach. A new coil of heat forms in your stomach, and you bite your lip as you look up at Angela, practically begging her to do something, anything, with your eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” your girlfriend asks.

“So sure,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss her softly. “I love you.”

“And I love you. Still want it hard?”

“Fuck, yes please.”

With a nod, Angela reaches between your bodies and lines her cock up with your entrance. Your breath hitches as you feel it brush up against your clit, and you end up choking on a moan a few seconds later when you feel her start to stretch you. She leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips as she pushes into you slowly, making sure that she’s not going to hurt you. As your hips connect, a soft whine pulls its way from your throat.

The skin to skin contact feels sinfully good. You can feel Angela’s warmth and the slight curve of her cock that makes it hit your g-spot just right, and you can tell by the way she’s already breathing shallowly that she can feel your walls squeezing her, wanting to pull her in deeper. It’s an amazing feeling, one that you could definitely get used to if you both decide that you love it.

“Fuck, can I move?” Angela asks, sounding breathless.

You nod, and your girlfriend doesn’t hesitate to start rocking her hips into yours. She begins slow, but soon she’s worked up to a pace that is knocking all of the breath out of your lungs. Between the friction against your g-spot and the attention that Angela is giving your neck, you feel your high approaching much faster than you would have liked it to. You try to shove it down, push it to the side, but when your girlfriend sucks on your pulse point, you’re a goner.

A harsh moan rips itself from your throat as your entire body shudders, waves of pure ecstasy cascading through your body as white flashes behind your eyelids. It takes a minute for you to come down, and when you finally do, you realize that Angela has stopped her movements and is looking down at you with pure affection in her eyes.

“How are you doing?” your girlfriend asks, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes.

“Good,” you reply, your breathing uneven. “So good.”

“Can I suggest a position change?”

“Sure. How do you want me?”

“Face down.”

“Doggy?”

“No, I want you laying flat. Is that okay?”

“More than.”

Angela nods and pulls out, then moves onto the other side of the bed so that you can get into position. You roll over easily, laying flat on your stomach and tilting your head to the left so that you can breath. As soon as you glance over your shoulder and nod, your girlfriend is climbing on top of you and pushing back in.

The stretch in this position is different, the fullness that you feel bordering on uncomfortable as Angela starts to roll her hips gently into yours. She knows that it takes you a minute to adjust when you’re face down, and you’re very grateful for the steady pace that she’s setting to get you ready for the real thing. After a minute, you feel things start to loosen up, so you reach up and grab the pillows before looking back at your girlfriend.

“I’m good,” you say, breath hitching as she hits a sensitive spot. “You can fuck me.”

“You sure?” Angela asks, caressing your ass.

“Yes.”

As soon as you give your confirmation, you feel a hand collide with your ass, a harsh smack echoing around the room. You bury your face in the pillows as you feel yourself clench at the sensation, a soft moan just barely managing to slip out. It’s quiet, but you know that Angela hears it based on the way she immediately does it again, this time thrusting her hips roughly into you at the same time.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, fisting your hands in the pillows.

“Feel good?” Angela asks, picking up the pace.

“Yes, baby. So good. You’re fucking me so good.”

Angela lets out a strangled moan behind you, and suddenly her hips stop moving. You can hear the sound of her breathing heavily, and when you turn your head to look at her, you see that she has her eyes squeezed shut and her hands fisted in the sheets on either side of her. If you weren’t so annoyed that she’d stopped, you would take a second to admire just how sexy she looks right now.

“Baby, why did you stop?” you whine.

“Don’t wanna…” Angela stutters out. “Come yet.”

“Baby, it’s okay. You can come.”

“No. Not yet. Not done. Just…need a minute.”

“Okay,” you say softly, reaching one of your hands down to take hers.

“Sorry,” Angela says after a minute, her eyes fluttering open. “I got really close there, but I’m good now. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Without so much as a warning, Angela goes back to slamming her hips into your backside at a bruising pace. It feels so good, but it’s not enough, and you find yourself trying to lift your hips so that you can slip a hand between your legs to play with your clit. Angela seems to have other ideas though, because she shoves you back down and then leans her her body on top of you, effectively changing the angle as she starts to roll her hips instead of thrusting.

The difference is immediate, and you start to feel heat coil in your stomach again, building up with every stroke that brushes against your g-spot just right. Your orgasm crashes into you as Angela bites down on your shoulder, and you find yourself trying to muffle your cries of pleasure in the pillow.

This time when you come down, your girlfriend has already pulled out of you and is leaving distracted kisses along your shoulders and spine. A sigh of contentment escapes you as you feel her start making her way up your neck, and you turn your head in time catch her lips with yours, pulling her into a soft kiss as you roll over underneath her. She smiles as she kisses you back, only pulling away when you both need to catch your breath.

“Hey,” Angela says softly.

“Hi,” you reply back, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Can you take another?”

“Yes, but I think that’s going to be it for me. My legs are starting to feel tingly.”

“Good. This position or a different one?”

“This one. I want to be able to see your face when you come.”

Angela blushes lightly but nods, lining her cock up with your entrance and pushing into you. She immediately starts up at a fast pace, and you can already tell that neither of you are going to last long. You can already feel another knot forming at the base of your spine, and she has her eyes clenched shut as she ruts her hips into yours.

As Angela starts to fuck you harder, she surprises you by grabbing your leg and throwing it over her shoulder. This allows her to sink deeper into you, hitting a new spot that you’ve never felt before. The pleasure is white hot, but it’s staying put for now, building higher and higher with each thrust. As it gets closer to snapping, you feel your girlfriend’s hips start to stutter, and then there’s a hand pressing down on your stomach and then-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry out.

All of your muscles contract, and your body tries to vault you into a sitting position, only to be blocked by Angela. She pushes you back down and ruts her hips a few more times before you feel her spill into you as she goes completely still. Another wave of pleasure rips through you, and you feel tears start to run down your cheeks as your body shudders. Coming down takes a long time, but when you do, you smile as you feel a thumb gently wiping at your cheeks. You open your eyes to see Angela staring down at you with an expression of awe on her face.

“What?” you ask, suddenly feeling shy.

“Nothing, it’s just…I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” Angela says.

“What’s never happened before?”

“Baby, you squirted.”

“Oh, uhm, sorry?” you say, blushing heavily.

“Don’t be,” Angela says, leaning in to kiss you softly. “That was so fucking hot. I can’t wait to make you do it again.”

“Not tonight.”

“I know, baby. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and then figure out what to order in.”

“Chinese?”

“Whatever you want,” Angela says. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmur softly.

#angela giarratana #angela giarratana x reader #smut

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dragongirlpoet · 9 months ago

Text

Corrupt

Sylus x reader (not mc)

Synopsis: Feared, ruthless and agonisingly attractive, Sylus infuriates you like no other. Yet, you work for him. As you immerse yourself in a life of vice with the Onychinus leader, you soon uncover secrets darker than the shadows he wields. Perhaps, just perhaps, you got more than what you bargained for…

Themes: Enemies to lovers, angst, sexual tension, slow burn, violence I Words: 2.1k I Semi made-up lore/cultural facts

“Drinking on the job? Tsk, that’s the third infringement on company policy you’ve made tonight, kitten.”

He took a sip of his whisky — aged in sherry cask, distilled just right with spherical ice. It was how he liked it. I knew, because I was having the exact same drink — his choice of poison at every revel, every meeting, every reclusive night alone.

Sylus threw me a derisive look, cherry eyes surveying me over the glisten of his glass.

“Intentions become more blatant, after a drink or two. Or in your case, five.” I challenged the man who’s kept me hired for the past year.

I was grateful. My work at the Hunters Association had turned trite. Clockwork really, — detect Wanderers, eradicate them, aid the wounded. Righteous, lawful, and so…moral.

My heart had staged a mutiny long before my mind resolved for change. And so I left my woe of comfort and dived into the hellfires of felony. He had found me scavenging for Protocore fragments in the N109, attempting to make my mark with abysmal self-made weapons.

Trinkets — Sylus had called them. Indeed I was a stray cat vagrant in the dominion of vultures.

The leader of Onychinus circled me as I downed my glass, eyebrow cocked at my words. His handsome face gave nothing away — a classic Sylus signature.

“Dance with me?”

A loaded question. One with threat and agency lurking beneath.

I took his outstretched hand and let him whisk me into the centre of the dapper nightclub — exclusive, accessible only to the most premier, and despicable, of criminals.

Sylus was one of them.

With expert grace, he spun me into an embrace, one gloved hand intertwined with mine, the other at my waist. Our steps fell in harmony with each other at once, like missing chords finding solace in a melody.

“So? What have you heard? You seemed thoroughly engaged with that halfwit over there…” his words trailed away as his gaze dipped to my silver dress. Being his right hand had me acquainted with his quirks — sometimes endearing, more so disturbing.

The subtle smirk dissipated as soon as it came.

“They have ties with the Ever Group. Something about a nitrogen spectrum…a capsule…Kenshi and his men have been on the hunt for it for a whi…”

“You look divine in this dress. I had it picked out just for you. Do you not like it?” his impertinence interrupting my mid-sentence.

I huffed a breath. “It works similarly to a Protocore, quite li…”

“Damask rose, isn’t it? With a hint of honeysuckle…out of all my spies…” he lowered his head, “you’re my favourite scent.” A roguish smile accompanied the wanton glint he cast into my eyes.

It had always been like this. Sylus would send me on missions, most times by his side. I was never granted the elucidations of tasks, only that I’d to “act as good bait…suss out whatever information you can…kill if you have to…”

I would probe, and he would reply with a curt, “Not safe. Just do as you’re told.” It was in those moments where I thought I’d witnessed fragility in his demeanour. He would catch on, and he would put on his mask of aloof and asshole, like right now.

I rolled my eyes, vexation apparent on my features. Sylus seemed content that he got under my skin. Not giving me a chance to reply, he twirled me around, the warm velvet of his coat now a flaming singe against my bare back. So that’s why he chose this dress…

“Come on, don’t look so incensed. I heard you. You’re doing a fantastic job, kitten. Always giving me what I need.” The last word came out huskier than intended beside my ear.

The club was cold. Sylus was conceited. It was a perfect match. As much as I abhorred his arrogance, I welcomed the warmth of his body to mine.

I remembered defrosting at my fireplace after I’d been caught in a snowstorm. I had sat there for hours, letting the crackling heat appease my frozen limbs. It felt nice, comforting. And with Sylus’ arms now wrapped around me — he was my fireplace.

“I’m just trying to make this spy business enjoyable for us both. Even if you’re unhappy, at least act it. After all, you’re good at pretending, right?”

There was an edge to his words.

“I saw how you brushed his hand… that spineless leech….unless you were thinking of fucking him tonight?” His hiss was loud enough for the crowd close to us to hear. They turned, throwing us looks of disdain and outrage. I doubted Sylus realised how hard his fingers were digging into my skin.

Cheeks flushed both from the whisky and his risky display of assertion, I shot him a warning glance. “You’re insane, Sylus.”

“So quit then. But do it later, not now, not while everyone’s watching. I don’t want an audience I didn’t ask for.” He was taunting me again, wholly unfazed by the almost furore.

How much did he drink tonight?

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I was in no mood to counter his transgressions. Instead, I snaked my arms back, cradling his neck, fingers threading through his silver head of hair. Sylus stiffened at my touch, likely taken aback by my insolence.

Soulful, sensual beats reveberated through the club, patrons — descendants of the devil themselves, wives, mistresses — all caught up in the fervour of the music. Couples were fondling and kissing on the monochrome floor. And well, I didn’t find a reason why I shouldn’t join the hedonistic heist.

So into his body I pushed mine. Gripping my hips with his right, his left hand slipped down to my abdomen, tracing the lining of my underwear. As I let my head fall back into his chest, his own came lower to nudge my face, burying his nose in my temple. A flutter flushed in my core.

There was a sort of courtliness to the way Sylus moved, a kind of elegance you could find only in Kings and Queens. Yet the way he was guiding my hips to sway in rhythm to his held such lewdity. To the frolicking outlaws here, we looked very much the part of reigning besotted lovers — timeless, transcendent.

Enthralled by the song and how Sylus was spooning me like I was his revered ruby, I ground myself indulgently against his leather pants. He grew hard at once, length prodding at my back.

Our combined excitement was short-lived, though. The silver dress he gifted me caught in the buckle of his belt, hiking the silk up. My black panties were exposed in wondrous glory, earning hungry looks from the men around.

The Onychinus kingpin tugged my dress down immediately, struggling slightly at the fabric fastened to his metal. His reflexes were swift as the time I aimed a loaded gun at him.

A loaded gun, one that was now hoisted towards the crowd. He really was insane.

“Look away, or I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.” His decree thundered over the booming of the speakers.

Several men smirked, others pretended to ease back into their cavorting. Assault, drugs, murder — it was just another night here at the N109. Being threatened with a revolver? — A mere parlour trick.

But perhaps that was what Sylus wanted to let on. “Never reveal your hand. Remain powerful by appearing meek.” That was the first lesson he had taught me.

“Sylus…careful…you could’ve put us in jeopardy…” I cast a concerned glance his way, only to find him polishing his pistol with his coat, his face a nonchalant calm.

His tone however, was one of annoyance, as if reprimanding a child. “I wasn’t fond of the little show you just put on.”

I put on a show? He was the one who…I sucked in a breath to abstain from an outburst. He was getting on my last nerve.

Pretending the best I could, I instead riposted, “Oh no, it’s not for them. I put these on just for you.”

Two could play at that game.

I watched the silver-haired devil pin me with his gaze, the dark of his pupils rising up to swallow me whole.

“I ought to punish you for violating company rules. Seems you’re breaking many of them tonight.”

“That’s why you hired me in the first place, isn’t it? I don’t play by the rules.”

There was a pause. The music seemed to fade out into a distant void, drowning the chatter along with it. Strobe lights danced around his face, illuminating the reds of his eyes. His right iris appeared to…glow?

A faint disorientation overcame me. In between blinking and regretting what I said, though, I thought I noticed Sylus inch closer — as if a subtle act of want. Only I had the privilege, or burden, to be sentient of his every complexity.

I regarded his stare as they roved over my eyes, my lips, closing the space between us…

“I want to go home.” I muttered.

Sylus straightened himself. If he was peeved, I couldn’t tell.

—

The ride on his motorcycle was spent in silence, save for the roaring of his modified exhausts. I refused to hold him, choosing instead to grab onto the fairing of the tail. So was another night of ambiguous motives and aimless flirtations, one in which I had grown increasingly restless.

“Why is everyone looking for the spectrum?” I asked at a traffic stop.

Silence.

“How is it even related to a Protocore? What’s so danger…”

“You really should hold on to me. I can’t risk my best spy falling off…” once again disregarding my questions, crimson eyes glaring at me through his side mirror.

“What is wrong with you? It’s been a year! And yet you don’t trust me enough with details of your dealings?” I yelled over the muffle of my helmet, my own voice ringing in my ears.

A low rumble sounded in the distance, quite like skyscrapers being blown apart by covert dynamites. The loud whirring of Sylus’ motorcycle remained, the combined knells throwing us into a pit of trepidation.

“Kitten.”

I knew that tone.

Drawing out my gun, I swung myself off the bike and fired. The Protocore-infused bullet buried itself in the recesses of a Wanderer, shredding its power source, erupting shards of alloy projectiles. Some of the pieces lodged themselves into other Wanderers, causing them to convulse violently, teetering on the brink of destruction.

Behind me, Sylus fended off several monsters, his Evol wrapping ominous tendrils around their form. In a mere furl of his hand, they disintegrated into dust, leaving clouds of ash in their wake.

My weapon was formidable enough, having been altered with a Zenith Core — a deviant design forged by Sylus himself. “I made this just for you,” he had surprised me in my first month of training. “It’ll keep you safe. Though you’ll always be so long as I’m around.”

Another shot was fired, this time by Sylus, barrel of his gun aimed over my shoulder. The creature at my back let out a piercing snarl before it crumbled into pieces. Our eyes met at once, the animosity from earlier now a muted thrum.

Hostility, however, chose to emerge in a different form — more Wanderers. Hoards of them. I spotted Foulwings and Magma Knaves, both species not known to spawn here.

I unsheathed my blade, but we were ringed in. Their screeches and grunts enveloped the night, like a fathomless blackhole draining all levity.

“There’s too many of them. We need to leave now.”

In a swift grab of my arm, Sylus tugged me into a whirl of nothingness. Red and black sworls engulfed us, and the last thing I remembered was being thrust in such nauseating force that I blanked out.

—

“Kitten. Kitten, wake up.”

I’d have recognised that voice anywhere.

Sylus was staring at me, hints of distress plain in his electric eyes. I was propped up against his arms in the middle of an empty street. It looked familiar, but not quite. Dim streetlamps cast an unearthly glow to the pavements, their shadows prostrate like spindly entities on a night prowl.

The buildings were far from towering ones in Linkon and the N109, carved instead, out of bricks and stone no more than five stories tall. Rickety signboards flickered on and off, as though a visual alarm to caution that we were not welcomed here.

“Sylus, where are we?”

A deep sense of rue loomed over his face.

“N109 Zone.”

“120 years in the past.”

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jetblack4realz · 2 months ago

Text

protector - haymitch abernathy

growing back

masterlist

your speech in the capitol shakes snow's stability - and haymitch isn't happy about it.

warnings: sexualizing, allusions to sa and gross people, spoilers to sotr, age gap of like 3 years

word count: 2.3k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

haymitch was nervous.

you made him nervous.

in so many ways that he didn't even know what to do about it. on the train, in his home, in the capitol - your presence made his heart beat just a little bit faster and he resented it.

but especially tonight, especially with your upcoming speech that you'd insisted to nelsie that you write yourself, his nerves were going wild.

and the way you looked in that damn dress wasn't helping either.

black velvet, one shouldered, a cut out on your waist the same side as the missing shoulder, and matching golden accessories.

your stylist wanted to showcase your unique attributes: the black for your relationship with haymitch, the velvet for your love of the capitol, the gold petrel necklace that sat perfectly on your collarbone for your victor heritage, and the cutout outlined the scarred gash that the games had left you with. and of course, the one shoulder just exposed more skin that sponsors were sure to eat up.

he was sure that all the fashion tabloids would be talking about his design.

you thought it was rather calm compared to other victor outfits.

haymitch almost wanted to thank your stylist - you were drop dead gorgeous. literally.

your makeup was perfectly simple - and yet it was still sharp and mature. just a winged liner and gold inner corners, glossy red lips topping it off. when he saw you walk backstage to meet him he internally groaned at the fact that it'd rub off on his own lips, and then he kicked himself in the ass for thinking that.

you hadn't kissed since district 3.

it didn't feel right. not yet.

not that he was planning it, either, or that he was counting down the minutes until he was able to kiss you again. that's not what he wanted. he just wanted to protect you without things being awkward.

obviously.

"do i have to say anything?" he asked you with raised brows, one hand clutching his third glass of the night tightly as the other hung loose by his side.

you smiled gently at him, and he felt his heart give way at it again. "no, you don't. i know not to say anything stupid."

"just be polite, praise the capitol, and then we can get this damn party over with and get out of here," he said anyways. you ran a hand through your hair as you rolled your eyes, and his hand flexed at his side out of reflex.

"i know," you told him. "just remember your promise."

"hey, i'll do what it takes to keep you as close to me as possible," he answered, grinning lopsidedly. his hand twitched at his side. "as long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

"and i will," you said with a nod, your smile disappearing as you glanced over his shoulder to where the podium was placed in the center of the stage. the capitol higher ups were eating dessert with loud, giggly chatter on the rest of the floor, and you could just barely see where president snow and his family were dining on the center terrace.

a beat passed, and then, finally, he reached out to grab your hand, his thumb running over the back of it. "you're gonna do great, honey. don't think too hard."

"too late," you said, smiling thinly at him as you squeezed his hand. "but, thank you."

another moment passed, his brain running a million miles a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again.

but he was cut off.

"you ready, sweetheart?" mags asked, coming to your side with the toddler on her hip.

you let out a heavy breath before planting a smile on your lips again and nodding. "as i'll ever be."

"you do great, cuz!" fish exclaimed.

that brought a real smile to your face, and you let go of haymitch's hand to place yours on the boy's cheek.

"thank you bubs," you told him, pressing a kiss to his nose and earning a giggle in return.

the air seemed to loosen around you four as the little laugh filled the space, and haymitch's heart calmed for a moment.

and then mags was handing him the child.

she looked at him intently. "hold him for me? i need to tell them she's ready."

"oh, i can just-"

"here," she said simply, placing fish in haymitch's arms. she turned to you with a motherly smile, patting your cheek gently. "you're going to be fine. just remember to breathe, yeah?" you nodded. "okay. knock 'em dead."

the older woman walked off of sidestage to speak with whoever was in charge of this whole ordeal and then only moments later nelsie was pulling you to the curtains.

"bye cuzzie!" fish exclaimed, and you waved with a small smile. the boy turned to haymitch with a grin that mirrored the one he had exclusively for playing the 'rascal', and it made haymitch smile too. "hi mitchie."

"hey kid," he said, adjusting the boy to settle more comfortably on his hip.

the sound of the microphone being tapped echoed through the room, and at once both haymitch and fish's attentions were on the stage, haymitch shuffling closer to give them both a better view of you.

he could barely see the side of your face, your brightly painted red lips pulled up in the same easy-looking smile that you used every time you were in public. the crowd was cheering loudly, their claps piercing and screams awfully high-pitched. he didn't realize so many people had been crammed in the ballroom of the president's mansion - or maybe it was just the way the walls were curved that was amplifying the sound.

either way, you didn't seem phased by it, a stark contrast to your image in district 1.

but, the face of the boy you killed wasn't on the back wall, and you weren't surrounded by victors and civilians and the families of dead tributes.

no. now you were just surrounded by people who either wanted to sleep with you or be you.

and just one who could very well want to kill you.

"she looks pretty," fish mumbled in haymitch's ear, and the man nodded with a thin smile.

"yeah. she does."

he couldn't keep his eyes off you. you were mesmerizing.

your shoulders were straight, your chin stuck out properly as you offered the crowd a small wave. you laughed a bit as the applause continued for far longer than you were used to, shaking your head humbly even as more whoops sounded through the room.

"please, please," your voice was smooth and at ease, and he couldn't say he wasn't shocked. the crowd listened to you, waiting for your next words, and haymitch even found himself leaning forwards in anticipation.

"ever since i came here that first day after the reaping, i have been welcomed with the warmest arms in panem. i could barely believe i was even here - the capitol, with all its shining lights and flamboyant fashions, was more than a simple girl from district 4 could imagine in her wildest dreams. it's comfortable, it's safe. there's ease here. everything glows, and it has this peacefulness about it that just makes me think that maybe this is what the world could be like."

there were a few scattered claps as everyone was hanging onto your next words, bright smiles on their lips as they gazed lovingly up at you.

"and it's comforting, in a way, to know that peace always comes at a price... and that someone has already paid it."

you scanned the crowd with a gentle smile.

haymitch's hold on your cousin tightened.

"your generosity has overwhelmed me. it affected me so much that i wondered why? and then i realized that some cages shin so brightly that they don't even seem like cages at all. my eyes have been opened in that way."

the capitol citizens were in awe - this poor district girl, imprisoned by district life and finally set free in the capitol.

the victors scattered in the crowd knew better - the prison was the capitol. haymitch knew it. mags knew it. and they were both confident that snow knew what she was saying too.

"before and after the games were so exciting - caesar, i've had the time of my life with you," you laughed as you pointed at the purple-haired man. he grinned, a hand over his heart as he waved the compliment away. "the best performances are the ones where no one realizes it's all a play. and you, sir, are the expert!"

the crowd laughed again, caesar doing a faux-bow as the cameras panned to him.

your smile remained on your lips. "in some ways, it was vaguely similar to my experience in the games themselves, and in many ways they were so starkly separate. i'll never forget the feeling that swelled in my chest when i watched that first little girl go down. or the feeling that followed my first and last kill."

haymitch held his breath.

vague. stay vague.

"it didn't make me feel like a winner, but i was told i was. i couldn't believe it." somehow you were still smiling, and you hadn't tripped up yet. your voice was breathy, like you were astonished. "and yet i was the last one. maybe not a victor, but a survivor."

haymitch's smile was wiped clear, his lips parted in shock as you continued.

shit.

the capitol cheered. you grinned. and then you sobered.

"in so many ways, we are all survivors of something. the only ones left standing. and we're all taught to smile through it. i think it's beautiful, really."

your smile was too wide, too shiny, and yet they ate it up. they cheered louder.

haymitch's breath was stolen from him, his heart pounding as he waited for your next words.

"but we're all more than what we've survived! more than what's broken. because what's broken can always be fixed. though it can't be fertilized with silk and rubies, it will always find a way to grow back. and though my games have left me a bit scarred-" you let out a laugh, patting your exposed side where everyone could see the jagged line from where thornton had stabbed you with a spear before you killed him, "that's what i'm here in the capitol, the most prosperous place on earth, to do. to growing back!"

he managed to breathe again, but only to let out a puff of disbelief.

and then you turned, accepting a champagne glass from the avox that had speedily approached your side, and then raising it high in the air.

the capitol echoed your words: "to growing back!"

and your eyes were on snow.

haymitch's were on you, wide and dilated in fear.

you all sipped your glasses, and then once yours was once again on the avox's tray, the crowd was on their feet and cheering loudly. a few tables in the back began chanting your name, and you lifted your hand to your heart with a sweet smile as you gave them a little curtsy.

you blew them a final kiss and a wink before laughing and exiting the stage.

now, haymitch had gotten pretty good at schooling his features in the past few years of performing for capitol benefit.

but this... this was too much for him.

he wasn't angry, he knew that much. no, it wasn't anger that was filling and constricting his chest. it wasn't frustration that was burning the back of his throat and making his heart pound so hard he was sure fish could hear it, or at the least feel it in his hands that were still wrapped around the boy.

no. not anger.

not rage.

there was time to be angry later.

instead he was filled with the most unpleasant, tremor-inducing sense of anxiety he'd felt since the repercussions of his own games.

"haymitch?"

he shook his head, eyes on the floors, curtains, ceilings, avoxes; anything but you.

"h. hey."

he stepped back, blinking quickly as he finally met your eyes.

you knitted your brows, reaching forward but he pulled away from you. "hey, i - i'm sorry. i felt like it had to be said. i needed to do something-"

"don't." he held his free hand in the air, shaking his head again as he balance fish on his hip more firmly. "i don't - i don't want to hear it. you knew... i told you. i told you what he'd do and you just... threw it away!"

"he won't do anything, my family is untouchable-"

"no one is untouchable."

mags appeared, and for the first time since he'd met her, haymitch saw a thin veil of anger on her features. she tried to disguise it, eyes softening the slightest bit when she met his, but her lips were twitching down and brows knitting together.

haymitch thrusted fish back into her arms.

"excuse me."

"haymitch-!"

"let him go. he needs to breathe."

"i didn't mean to... i don't... i just wanted to do something right for once. i've done everything else wrong."

"i can't tell you what right and wrong is, sweetheart, but i can tell you that this will have repercussions."

"but, the capitol loved it."

"doesn't matter," haymitch muttered under his breath before he finally burst into the hallway.

his hands were shaking, his breath was short.

his feet carried him far, down the hallway, up some stairs, down more winding hallways as his brain ran from him.

fire.

gumdrops.

caskets.

an empty white house.

liquor.

he didn't know he'd survive. he didn't know his actions would kill everyone he loved. he didn't know.

you knew.

he'd told you. mags had told you. snow had told you.

you knew.

and you still risked it all.

#haymitch abernathy #sunrise on the reaping #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #thg sotr #thg haymitch #sotr

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consideredahazard · 3 months ago

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Sannin chaos

Naruto: Why are all the Sannin going through the stages of grief in a corner? Shikamaru: They took one of those ‘Which Naruto character are you’ quizzes. Naruto: So? Shikamaru: Apparently they’re each other. Sai: And they don’t know how to deal with that. Ino: So far we have witnessed sulking, anger, denial, bargaining, shoving, depression, accusation, celebration, intoxication, asphyxiation, tantrums, pleading, another round of sulking, sucker punches, tears, three wild kunai, biting, constriction, summoning’s, two attempts at sage mode, shoes where shoes are not supposed to be, hairpulling, threats of getting Lord third involved and at one point they shoved their fingers into each other’s mouths and collectively screamed what sounded like “Suck it!” …or some variation of that. Oh! And a grimaces contest. Sai: All in the span of the last thirty minutes. Shikamaru: That’s an impressive amount of chaos concentrated into such a short amount of time. Ino: If it wasn’t so entertaining I’d ask them to kiss and make up but at this point I’m afraid of what they might do. There are some things the public shouldn’t have to see.

#incorrect quotes #naruto shippuden #naruto #incorrect sannin quotes #sannin #tsunade #jiraiya #orochimaru #JiraOroTsu #Shikamaru #ino yamanaka #Sai #jiraoro #Orotsu #incorrect naruto quotes #remember that meme of spiderman pointing at spiderman #yeah that's the situation #Ghost milk #ao3

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writtenbyan-aries · 5 months ago

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need a soul crushing colby angst

maybe seeing him again after a breakup and hes like so indifferent and nonchalant while reader is going nuts

∶ Summary: anon sums it up

∶ Warnings: angst, wine, breakup flashbacks, upset reader, ex!Colby, quick talk of depression, kind of a fluff end

∶ Word Count: 3.2k

I wanted to incorporate a song into this and Haunted was the first one that popped into my head because the lyrics instantly gave me ideas - enjoy!

────────── •✧✧• ──────────

For the last three years, you’ve given Colby everything you had to offer. All of your love, time, effort. He got it all. You spent each free moment you had with each other. Went to sleep together. Woke up together. Had breakfast, lunch, dinner together.

Everything. You didn’t think you’d ever live to see what you had with him break.

You were so blindsided by the breakup, that when it happened, it sent you through all the stages of grief.

Denial - For weeks, you kept telling yourself it’s not over. There’s no way it’s over. He’s not gone, he can’t be gone. Telling yourself, your closest friends that he just needs a break, he’ll come back. There’s no way he won’t come back. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that three years was just gone, like it didn’t matter. You kept texting him, asking him to talk more about why he did it, asking him if it’s really over, and you just got the same response back, silence. That then pushed you into the second stage of grief.

Anger - You were angry that he didn’t answer. Angry that he didn’t give you any closure that you felt like you desperately needed. Angry that he could just drop you like you meant nothing. You let him hear it, too. Even if he didn’t respond, you gave him a peace of your mind. You ultimately moved into being angry with yourself, wondering if you could have put up a harder fight for him, and that led you into the third stage.

Bargaining - You became sad all over again, rethinking everything. You kept thinking, what if I had done more and what if we’re only meant to be just friends. You thought you had it all figure out, him all figured out. If you just give him time he’ll come back. But, over time, you felt a huge sense of guiltiness wash over and drown you in his place, leading you into the fourth stage.

Depression - You haven’t left your house in few weeks. Ordered in. Rotted on the couch and in your bed. It took your best friend coming over to tell you that you needed a shower for you to actually get up and get one. You were drowning, feeling like something’s gone terribly wrong. You felt like you had been shattered into a million tiny pieces, and no matter how much ‘glue’ you had, nothing made them stick together. Just when you thought you were getting better, you fell apart all over again. Wanting to text him, talk to him, hear his voice, but knowing he wouldn’t even give you that, hurt you even more. Eventually, with the help of your friends and their pep talks, you gradually floated into the final stage.

Acceptance - It took a few months, but you finally got to a place to where you didn’t cry when you thought about him, or when you seen something that reminded you of him. You were finally starting to feel like yourself again. You avoided looking in your camera roll because you just didn’t have deleting all of your photos in you yet, so you left them go. But you managed. You left your house, accepting the fact that you were a single, semi-healed girl, and staying in the house wasn’t going to help.

It’s been six months since the day you and Colby broke up. Four months of those six, weren’t spent dwelling and laying in a pool of self pity, but the last two you spent focusing on yourself, coping and moving forward.

You were actually feeling pretty good. You had heard through the grape vine that Colby was seeing someone new, but you tried not to let it get to you, no matter how haunted by him you felt.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?”

You gave your best friend, Leah, a confused look, “I’m fine? Why?” You set your phone down and turn towards her. She shakes her head, “No reason, I just- you have your first date with Noah tonight, and I’m just making sure you didn’t have the jitters.”

“I’m good, Leah. I promise. Noah and I have been talking for a few weeks, and it seems to be going well. I told him I wanted to take things slow, and tonight just feels like the right time to actually take things public.”

“Does he know you used to date the Colby Brock?” She raises her brows and you scoff, “That shouldn’t have anything to do with my future. Clearly, Colby wanted to stay in the past, so. Why should I care?”

“I’m just saying, Colby is-“

“Enough about Colby, Leah.” You take a deep breath, “I’m over him. I got myself all healed and glued back together, I don’t understand why-“ you pause and Leah tilts her head, “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“I have to be.” You could feel your eyes burn, but you fight back the tears, “I have to be. Colby moved on, so it’s time for me to as well.”

“Noah is really sweet.” She gives you a soft smile, “I just don’t want you hurting him, or yourself, by rushing into something you’re not fully ready for.”

You shake your head, “I like Noah. Noah.. he’s good for me.”

She smiles, “What time is your date?”

“Picking me up at six, then he said about going to the beach, taking a walk along the shore.” You feel your cheeks grow warm, “It’s new. It’s a clean slate.”

She nods, “Let me know how it goes.”

────────── •✧✧• ──────────

Noah knock on your door and led you down to his car like a gentleman.

The car ride to the restaurant was subtle, full of small talk and him telling you how beautiful you looked.

You felt good, but there was still a little part in you that held onto Colby. More so, you weren’t able to trust anything now, because of what he did to you.

You swallowed, pushing down the thoughts that creeped in and gave Noah a smile, “Have you ever been to this place before?”

He nods, “When my family comes to visit, my mom always takes us here. It’s one of her favorite spots, and mine.” He chuckles, “The food is phenomenal.”

“That’s good, I don’t think I’ve ever been to this place before. I was googling it before you came to get me, it looks fancy.” You glance down at your dress, “I hope I dressed up enough.”

“You dressed perfect.” He smiles, “We should be, ah.” He points, “Here we are.”

Your eyes can over the building. It looked rich.

“Wow. This place looks expensive just by the architecture.” You laugh, “Are you sure you-“

“I’m sure. You deserve a place like this.” He smiles, unbuckling to get out. He walks around, opening up your door. You take his hand as you get out, smoothing your other hand down over your dress.

As you’re walking through the parking lot, your heart sinks as you see a familiar looking car, but as you grow closer, it’s not who you think it is.

You let out a relieved sigh and give Noah’s hand a squeeze. He smiles and opens the door, “After you.” He motions and you nod, “Thank you.” You smile as you walk in, coming to a stop at the host stand.

“Good evening.” The gentleman smiles, “Name for the reservation, please.”

“Reynard. Noah Reynard.”

“Perfect. If you will follow me this way.”

Noah takes your hand and walks with you through the restaurant, stopping at the table, “Thank you.” He smiles at the host and moves to pull your chair out, “Here we go.”

You sit down and help him move your chair in towards the table, “Thank you.” He nods, “My pleasure.” He smiles as he sits down and the host nods, “Your waiter will be with you in just a moment.”

“Thank you.” You give the host a smile and look back at Noah, “What’s good here?”

“Everything.” He chuckles, “I usually go for the lobster and foie gras, but I can guarantee you that no matter what you get, you’ll like.”

“Hmm.” You look down over the menu, “Well see.” You smile as you glance up at him and he raises his brows, “Oh, I see you have accepted the challenge.”

You shrug, “I guess I have.” You laugh and let out a sigh as you continue perusing the menu.

A little bit later, after placing your orders and downing a glass of wine, you were in the middle of talking about where you both grew up.

As you were listening to Noah, someone in the corner of your eye, caught your attention.

Internal panic sets ablaze. You realize you were staring at Noah, but you weren’t listening, “Sorry.” You laugh, “I um, what did you say?”

“I just said that I grew up in Dallas, but moved here when I turned eighteen.” He smiles, “Have you ever been to Dallas?”

You shake your head, “No, I haven’t. But isn’t the saying, um, everything is bigger in Texas?”

“Yeah, yeah they do.” He nods with a laugh, “You said you grew up in Virginia?” You nod, “Yeah, pretty much the same story with you. Well, only the states are different.”

“I knew I’ve always wanted to come to LA, it’s always been a dream of mine to live where there’s sunshine and palm trees.” He smiles, “To think, if we never moved here, we probably would have never met.”

You smile, trying to hold it as you see Colby and his date walk behind the host across the restaurant to a table, his seat, directly in line with your view.

“Yeah, it’s, um.” You laugh, “It’s crazy how the universe works, is the waiter coming back?” You finish your glass of wine, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah, he should be coming back any- oh, here he is.” Noah moves his napkin out of the way and you do the same, laying it on your lap. You smooth out the fabric a few times, taking quick breaths as you try and settle the now full inferno inside of you.

What are the odds of seeing Colby for the first time some the breaking while you’re on a first date with someone new?

Slim to none, you’d think.

“Y/n?”

You look up, Noah staring at you, “Huh?” He laughs slightly, “Another glass of wine, you said?” You nod, looking up at the waiter, “Oh, yes, yes please.” You swallow, “I’m actually- I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick, wash my hands before I, uh, dig in.”

“Are you okay?” Noah furrows his brows and you nod, “Yes.” Your face turns into confusion, “Why?”

He shrugs, “You just seem nervous all of a sudden, I hope I wasn’t laying it on too thick, I know you said you wanted to take things slow.”

“I’m good.” You give him a smile, “Just going to wash my hands really fast.”

You get up, keeping your head down, but as soon as you look up, Colby’s eyes are already on you, and they’re cold.

Just his look alone sent you right back to the day he left.

“No, come on, come on, Colby. Don’t leave me like this.” You sob, “Please, you’re all I want, p-please. We can- we can work this out, please. Colby, I can’t- I can’t do this.”

“It’s for the best, y/n. We can’t- you want more in life, and you can’t get that if I’m not ready.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes glistening as he locks them onto yours.

“I-I love you, Colby. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. You’re- you’re the best thing that’s ever h-happened to me, I can’t just move on from this, I can’t, I won’t.” You shake your head, walking up to him, “Please. Don’t leave me like this, please, Colby.”

You stood there, watching him, figuratively, walk further and further away from everything you had. His eyes growing colder and colder with each second, almost like he’s making himself not have a choice with doing this.

Your head pounding more and more with each sob, “Colby-“ your voice breaks, “Please don’t do this.” You gasp for air, “What went terribly wrong? We’re all we’ve ever wanted, I don’t-“

“I just know, that right now, doing this will benefit us both.” He closes his eyes, quickly wiping a stray tear away, “I love you, and with that, I need to let you go.”

Your lip quivers as the sobs start all over again, your hands moving to cover your face as you gasp for air. The sound of the door shutting sends you into a full on breakdown.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe with him being gone.

You thought you had it all figured out, but you were wrong. You thought you were good, fine without him. You thought that being with someone else would help, but seeing Colby sit there, with another girl, acting so nonchalant and like he didn’t rip your heart out six months ago makes you feel sick.

You felt like you were spiraling out of control, standing in the bathroom, holding your breath as you try not to let the feelings of six months ago take over.

You were trying so hard not to lose it all over again, and the fact that you had to go out there and act like everything was fine made it all worse.

You calm yourself down, slowly reaching for the lock and twisting it. You move to the mirror, leaning in to make sure your makeup isn’t out of place.

As you turn, the girl Colby is at dinner with, walks through the door. She gives you a small smile and you just stare at her, moving your eyes down to the floor.

She was beautiful.

You swallow, taking a deep breath before walking back out to Noah.

“I thought I was going to have to send in a search and rescue team.” Noah jokes, “seriously, though. Are you okay?”

You nod, grabbing your glass and taking a sip, “I’m perfect.” You smile, fully acting like you aren’t going nuts on the inside, “This look delicious.” You look at your plate and Noah nods, “So, let’s see if I was right.”

“Oh, right.” You laugh, “Yes.” You cut off a piece of your food and take a bite. Your eyes go wide, “Oh, you were right.” You hum lowly, “This is delicious, my god.”

The whole time you were eating, especially before Colby’s date came back, his eyes were on you. Watching your every move, listening to every fake laugh that slipped from your lips.

As dinner came to a close, you motioned, “all of this wine in going right through me.” You laugh, “Do you want me to-“

“I got it. You go, I’ll meet you back here.” Noah smiles, “That beach walk is calling our names, I can hear it.”

You smile, “that’s what I’m most excited about.”

He scoffs, “Well if I would have known that, I wouldn’t have taken a loan out to pay for dinner.” Your jaw drops and he laughs, “I’m joking, I can pay for this all on my own.”

You let out a sigh, “Jokster, I see.” You smile, “I’ll be right back.” You get up, avoiding Colby as you walk by, entering the bathroom.

You walk into the stall, doing what you need to do, and stand up, walking out to the sink. As you’re washing your hands, you stare at yourself in the mirror, taking a few calming breathes as you try to push Colby from your head.

You straighten up, letting out a sigh and walking to dry your hands. As soon as you open the door, you stop, your heart dropping into your stomach as you see Colby standing there.

“I don’t..” he turns, dropping his hands, “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Aren’t you on a date?” You swallow, trying to keep the upper hand, “That’s what I’m doing here.”

“No i-“ he scoffs, “Yeah, I know that.” He clenches his jaw, “I just-“ he shakes his head and you sigh, “You and I are walking a fragile line here, Colby.”

“Yeah, I’ve known it all this time, as soon as I seen you sitting there with him.” He tilts his head, “I- you look good.”

“Thank you.” You look down, “I um, I have to-“

“Do you miss me?”

You stare at him, “Do I miss you?”

You scoff, “Colby, I-“ you shake your head, “Does it even matter? You seemed to move on rather quickly, sitting there, acting like seeing someone you once gave everything to doesn’t hurt you in the slightest.” You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything, so you sigh, “but.. yeah, of course I do. I still mean every word I said to you.”

“I’m haunted by you.” He laughs slightly, “I still look for you in everyone I come across, I don’t-“ he shakes his head, “I don’t kn- I was so stupid to let you go.”

“But you did.” You tilt your head, “For months, I was a wreck, thinking I had you figured out, figuring out a way for us to make it work, but in the end, I was the one who looked stupid. Telling everyone that you had your reasons when I literally had no idea why you left, other than you thought I wanted more, but in reality, Colby. I wanted you. No matter what.”

His eyes fall to the floor, his head nods slowly, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?” You sniffle, “I just- I don’t need this. I don’t need you messing with my head, you did that enough when you first sat down at the table.”

You go to walk away but he grabs your hand, and sparks trickle up your arm, “Wait.” He pulls you in, “Tell me you’re happier with him.”

You stay quiet for a moment, your eyes staying on his hand in yours, “He might try to take my pain away and he might make me smile, but..” you look up at him, “the whole time, I’m wishing he was you instead.”

He nods, eyes bouncing from your lips to your eyes and you knew what was about to happen, but you pull away. You clear your throat, “I um..” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts.

“What?” Colby asks, “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

You shrug, taking a deep breath, “A part of me wants to know where we go from this, but then another part of me can’t trust anything now and I don’t want to keep holding onto nothing.” You look up at him and he nods, “Why don’t you just go back to your table, I’ll go back to mine, and then maybe..” he shrugs, “One of us is dumb enough to call the other later on.”

────────── •✧✧• ──────────

Thank you so much for reading! I love you so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Like and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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spacemothsota · 5 months ago

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how do humans who get cyberformed usally react to finding out what their cybertronian freind is doing to them?

the reaction guess is probably different from person to person but what usally happens?

Hi Anon! (Thanks for the question, I'm so glad!)

In fact, the reaction of different people is really extremely diverse, but all this can be combined into "five stages of acceptance".

It's not that there are five of them, basically there are only three reactions and they depend on whether the person had anything to lose in life, what kind of relationship he had with his parents and other factors.

The initial reaction of those who react to their situation is extremely aggressive. Anger, misunderstanding, confusion, all of it is deeply entwined in their chest, pressing like a weight and intensifying with pain. They do not understand why their cybertronian friend and trusted comrade decided to do this to them, they cannot accept reality for some time and deny what is happening (deny the situation). For the most part, this is the reaction of those who have families, or those who see that they had a duty to "humanity", or those who are afraid of leaving behind their achievements (in my AU, however, the cyberformed later face alienation from their former human brothers). People who initially flare up with anger are simply going through the five stages of acceptance of the situation. From deep denial and disbelief (lasts a short period of time), a furious outburst (anger), an attempt to understand whether it is possible to reverse the process (bargaining), numbness (depression) and then acceptance of the situation, an attempt to get used to the new reality (resignation). Adaptation is difficult for such people, they can be stubborn, flare up with irritation, as a rule, their Cybertronian friends provide support, knowing that it is difficult and unusual for them. It is because of them, for the most part, that Cybertronians try to unite the cyberformed into groups, thinking that this will help them come to terms faster and accept the idea that everything is not so scary, because next to them there are friends and those who have gone through the same process.

The second reaction, those who are confused, but mostly calm. I wrote in the "Second Part" that usually these are the people who tend to be more observant, they are calm and attentive in themselves. They understand what is happening earlier, they may have a flash of misunderstanding at the beginning (a short quick anger), but such people are more inclined to listen to their Cybertronian friend. To understand what exactly prompted him to act this way. Of course, they can be irritated or sad for some time, but resignation to the situation comes faster for them. Usually people with such a reaction can be stubborn for some time in adapting to the Cybertronian society, but their way out is studying sciences and professions. The feeling of order and consistency calms them down, and the support of Cybertronian friends gives them time to accept life in a new way at their own pace (some of these people are deeply inspired by the idea of exploring everything in a new, more advanced way, as a rule, they are flexible in their thoughts)

The third reaction, enthusiasts in general. They may seem frivolous in their joy of becoming a Cybertronian, even if it means going through pain. However, these are the ones who know that they had nothing more to lose in their previous human life, or, on the contrary, they are running away from the life they had. For them, becoming a Cybertronian = starting life from scratch. Being yourself and not being ashamed of your character, not being constrained by rules, traditions or other things. Probably, the number of people with the third reaction includes those whose life has been permeated with Cybertronian culture and bots since childhood (and there are such, for example, like Daniel). In the case of this group, adaptation occurs so quickly and naturally that they rush to soften the reactions of the first group and help the second to reveal themselves.

Usually, Cybertronians take the cyberforming human to a safe place, they have one (at least for the Autobots, rest in peace to those chosen by the Decepticons). There, the former humans are surrounded not only by safety and security, but also by support from other cyberformers and their guardians and friends. I will write about this place later, as it is important for understanding both the reaction of the human government and the place that the former humans themselves have taken in the world.

That's all, just three categories, of course it all depends on the person and a little later I'll make a post with a list of characters that are present in this AU. If you want to know how this or that character reacted, you can write to me, I'll be happy to answer :).

Part 3 Character List

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jolenes-doppelganger · 1 year ago

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hiii!! i just read your works about ilsa and rose. could you possibly write about lady jessica x fem! corrino reader? where they meet at the final scene of the movie…

[Hi Anon! Thank you for the request. I had some fun ideas with this one, enjoy. :3]

Phantom Frequency

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Corrino Reader

Summary: Following the overthrow of House Corrino’s monarchy, few things are certain. The Bene Gesserit’s power over the throne, political stability and spice production seem to be uncertain, but on a more personal level, the Corrino household can only fear for their lives. But not all is lost for the two eldest daughters of the former Emperor Shaddam. With Irulan married to Paul and the Reader secured as her primary advisor, a third party strikes a bargain to maintain her security.

Warnings: Drugging, abduction, dub-con ‘arrangement’, dub-con medical examination, Jessica being Jessica

A/N: I know I said this might have been spicy… So I hope you’re hungry! For nothing.

Word Count: 2.8k

You’d heard the whispers before you stepped foot off of the ship onto Arrakis. You were the middle Corrino princess. Your sister, Irulan, deciphered truth, your younger sister wielded the Voice, and you had mastered complete control over your body. Each of you played a key role in the Corrino household. Irulan and your younger sister Addsham played direct roles in controlling the affairs of the household. You held a different purpose. While the two of them occupied the Bene Gesserit with their development and tasks, you lay in the shadows, collecting information and rumors out of the mouths of those around you with uncanny accuracy. But the whispers hadn’t helped you to prepare for the direct interest of the Reverend Mother Atreides.

“Abomination!” the sisters of the Bene Gesserit cried, all momentarily caught up in hysterics as Paul Atreides commanded Reverend Mohiam to silence.

The Fremen warriors stood clustered around the Muad’Dib, the Lisan al Gaib of their fables. But from your perspective, they were really clustered around her. Of all the people she could have fixed her eyes upon, she’d chosen you. Not your frightened sister Irulan, not the pale face of your father, Emperor Shaddam, but you. Small, unassuming, clustered and partially veiled amidst the throng of Bene Gesserit sisters. Quiet, resolutely collected and observant. Jessica Atreides had picked you to focus on. Why?

“... All these years, and I have the pleasure of finally meeting Lady Anirul’s successor.” a voice squirmed through your head. “You don’t carry her name, or her features like your older sister, but you do have her eyes, and her bearing.”

Jessica’s blue eyes bore into yours as the voice drew uncomfortable waves through your ears. You weren’t really hearing her voice. Her lips were barely moving… This was the Voice. Jessica was using some ventriloquy variant of the Voice to talk to you, and you alone.

“How?” you whispered, your brief murmur coming out like a soft gasp, indiscernible from the rest of the Bene Gesserit gasps.

“When you’re my pupil, I’ll teach you.” Jessica eerily stared, eyes sliding off of you and back onto whoever her next victim would be.

<——————->

Paul Atreides had won. The way Irulan clutched your arm as you exited into the safety of the Emperor’s ship made that clear. You’d watched your father kiss the ring of the boy warrior in a haze of disbelief and fear, your emotions scrambled alongside that of the women surrounding you. Walking into Irulan’s private chambers aboard the ship was like walking behind a stage curtain. She broke down, clutching at your shoulders, burying her face in your neck and sobbing.

“No, I can’t do it.” Irulan cried, chest heaving and voice cracking. “I can’t do it (Reader), I can’t face him again. Or his mother.”

You were numb. The kind of numb that slid into your bones whenever trouble struck. It left you with a clarity that was always sort of peculiar; an emotionless outlook on the problems you faced, the ability to tackle dilemmas with the unfeeling scalpel of logical next steps rather than the blunt phalanges of emotional wallowing. You cupped your sister’s head, resting your foreheads together.

“Who said you have to face him right now? No, you have time. You get three days to sob and sit in your self-pity, behind closed doors naturally, but then you will not cry any longer.” you found yourself instructing.

“I hate him.” Irulan whispered. “I fucking hate him.”

The very concept of Irulan swearing was a bit funny. She didn’t use these words. You’d doubted if she ever had them in her vocabulary.

“I believe it was you who held me against the bathroom wall and scrubbed my tongue with soap when I used those words.” you joked.

Irulan let out a tearful laugh, wiping her eyes and nodding.

“Sorry. You were twelve. And someone could have heard you.”

You nodded. It was a funny memory in hindsight. It had caused no lasting harm, quite unlike the predicament Irulan faced. All of the potential marital arrangements she’d been discerning for years, all of the suitors with varying levels of financial and diplomatic aptitude stripped from her in one fell swoop. She’d been damned to a sandpit with the worms and the Fremen. No respite from the Bene Gesserit would be given. No safety net should things go awry.

“I’m staying with you.”

“No.” Irulan shook her head. “What about Daddy?”

“Daddy has Addsham. You have no one. You need my skills, you need my council. You need someone to bear the burden with you.” you said, clutching your sister’s hands. “I’m not asking. I will stay. And you will not be alone.”

Irulan’s eyes filled with tears all over again, and so did your eyes. But you didn’t let them fall. You’d never cried since the night your mother had died. Now would not be the day the six year dam broke. An attendant broke you away from your sister, urgently vibrating in the way most servants did when they carried important news.

“The Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides requests your presence in meeting room six.”

No time was given. It was a direct order. Veiling yourself once more, you walked towards the specified meeting room.

<——————->

The room was empty. To your eyes, at least. A cup of tea, a Gom Jabbar needle. A test of some sort, or perhaps a warning. You kept your distance from the objects, breathing in the smell of stale incense. A large tapestry hung from the wall, a beloved favorite of yours. Lady Anirul seated alongside a younger Emperor Shaddam. Three little girls that bore varying ratios of similarity to the two parents. You smiled, observing your family. Something was off, however. You knew something about it was off. It wasn’t Emperor Shaddam, or any of the three little princesses, it was your mother, Lady Anirul. Was it her hands? No. The neck… Not that either. Her face was odd. Maybe it was seeing her countenance in the format of the tapestry. Maybe it was just seeing her again. But the more you looked, the more you realized that it was her face. All blended together, all seamlessly woven, except for the life-like eyes. The blue, glistening, life-like eyes of someone that was not your mother, that had never been your-

Hands sprung out from the tapestry, encircling your neck and pushing you backward into the table. The slits of the tapestry, the slits in your mother’s eyes went blank, and the face that replaced your mother’s sent chills up your spine.

“Let this be your first lesson.” Mother Jessica whispered, grip tight over your windpipe. “When the gut screams that something is wrong, you listen.”

She released your neck, and the fright combined with the released pressure on your airpipe made you dizzy. You slid to the floor, head spinning in shock and fear. Tears collected in your eyes, and your hands shook. All of these reactions were without your consent, and you couldn’t gather the necessary strength needed to reverse these processes, to engage the parasympathetic nervous system to undo the shock of the deceitfully devised strangulation attempt.

“Oh, child.” Jessica scoffed. “You grow too comfortable in your house.”

“You cut out my mother’s eyes!” you found yourself whimpering, like a scared child.

Jessica laughed at this, a cruel sound mixed with a certain degree of disdain.

“You have thirty seconds to collect yourself.” she ordered.

You found yourself rising, turning away from her to collect yourself. You stopped breathing like a hysterical adolescent, instead forcing slow breaths in through your nose. You gripped the edge of the table, righting the dam against your conflicting emotions. Then you turned, making eye-contact with the woman behind them all.

“I am not a traditional mentor. Your mother never was, hence why she was never allowed to mentor another following me.” Jessica coldly recounted. “But she taught me more in six months than the rest of them did in sixteen years. Still, she teaches me. From beyond the grave she sends me lessons, ones that hurt to learn. And now, she’s sent me you. The middle child, the forgotten one, the little rebel that bides her time in the shadows. You.”

Jessica adjusted her loose veil, grabbing the Gom Jabbar needle.

“What would this be used for?”

“The Gom Jabbar test. I passed it at fourteen.”

Jessica nodded, setting the needle down. But then she fixed her piercing gaze on you once more.

“But that’s not the only way you know it.”

Anger flashed through your veins. How dare she!

“My mother was a strong woman, she was sick. And no one helped her, so don’t you dare throw her death in my face-”

“Silence.”

Your teeth clacked shut, clipping your tongue in the process. The taste of iron filled your mouth

“Did your mother kill herself with the Gom Jabbar or not?”

You reached behind you, gripping the table with ferocious intensity, channeling the rising tide of emotions into another action other than crying.

“She did.” you croaked out, breathing in through your nose so fast the air whistled.

Jessica nodded, picking up the cup of tea. It was still hot, you noticed. A product of the heat conducting coil at the base of the cup.

“Do you know what this tea is?” Jessica asked, a rhetorical question. “It was the only thing found in your mother’s system following the autopsy. And you’re going to drink it.”

You screwed your eyes shut, silently praying to any higher power that would dare listen to make this nightmare stop. But then you opened them, not allowing yourself to succumb to despair.

“Take it. Before I make you.”

The cup was hot in your hands. The liquid a murky brown. It was a derivative of spice, notes of chamomile and citrus laced in with the pungent scent of spice. You swallowed down the beverage, doing so with mechanical detachment.

“Close your eyes.” Jessica murmured, taking the cup from you.

Her fingers grazed your with startling gentleness. It was a tad bit sensual, but perhaps you were making that bit up.

“Feel.”

The pregnant bump of Jessica brushed against your stomach, her hands resting on your lower face. Her nose brushed yours, a brief motion. Then her lips rested on your left ear, her breath tickling the hollow cavern of your ear canal.

“Your mother drank a spice cocktail, a depressant based blend to promote bliss and a sense of euphoria. She died happy.”

It was too much for you to bear, and in between the soft caresses of her hands, in between the stress of the last twelve hours, in between all of the emotional heartache you’d experienced, a sad, neglected child sat crouched in a corner, wondering where her mother went. You broke down, hands fisted in the Reverend Mother’s robes as she collected every stray tear you cried with her lips, collecting the water of your body and storing it in hers.

<—————->

Distant voices blurred together the longer you were in that room. You called it ‘that room’ because you were unsure of where it was. Your routine was set. When you came out of the drug coma, you were fed and given water, and then the bitter drink was administered. As you came out of the coma again, more voices were clear.

“Leave me with her.” a raspy voice.

“But Reverend Mother, you gave birth only three days ago-”

“Leave me.”

The voice. Quick footsteps, silence. Hands encircled your face, sweet smelling breath ghosting over your nose.

“I’ve had you inspected.” she murmured. “You are in perfect health, fertile and strong. A strong vessel, this is important.”

You opened your eyes, meeting the tired, slightly bloodshot eyes of the Reverend Mother.

“I cannot teach someone weak. I will not teach someone weak. But you are not weak, daughter of Anirul. No, you are good stock.”

Her hands crept over you, exposing your skin, pulling off your robe.

“Still… I do not necessarily trust the Imperial physicians I had brought to you. I need to see for myself.”

Jessica started at your lymph nodes in your neck, checking pulse, fingers prodding the skin. She pressed over your belly button, your appendix, watching your face for signs of discomfort. Her touch slid down to your feet, your ankles. She carefully checked all the joints of your arms and legs, paying special attention to your hips.

“Strong body, good heart, your lungs sound clear and full. But are you suitable for breeding?” Jessica asked herself.

Both of her hands encircled your breasts, probing and caressing, checking for any potential defects.

“Not as vessel filled as they should be. You need more blood flow to the glands. Daily massages should help with that.”

It was humiliating, being touched so callously. It was medical, sure. And the Reverend Mother was a sister of the Bene Gesserit, but this was hardly protocol.

“The womb…”

Her hands slid down to your pubic area, probing and prodding just above the pubic bone. She did this for sometime, more carefully examining this area than anywhere else.

“It’s safe to say that you are fertile. Not as fertile as you should be, however. Estrogen rich foods, daily boric acid suppositories to help with pH balance… Yes, most certainly.”

Jessica gripped your thighs without warning, pulling them apart, exposing your vulva to her view. It was a quick look, she merely skimmed over you with her gaze.

“Aesthetically pleasing. Hmm.”

The Reverend Mother dropped her grip, tying the robe over you once more. To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Humiliation, confusion and flattery all brewed together in a jumbled mix, and you found that every possible response you had to the examination dried up in your throat.

“What?” Jessica smirked bemusedly. “You are very aesthetically pleasing, not just there, but everywhere.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows felt like the only correct de-escalatory measure. Tightening the robe over you felt necessary, covering yourself from her gaze. Jessica eyed you carefully, her hands cupping your cheeks and jaw.

“Let me make one thing clear. I do not explain my methods. I will not explain my methods. Once the desired outcome is made, there will be no room for discussion over my methods. I am the teacher, you are the pupil. Criticism will not be tolerated, neither will disobedience.”

A thousand questions raced through your head. Who had given her this authority over you? Why had she drugged you? How long had you stayed in a timeless state of unconscious bliss while the world worked around you? What if Irulan had needed your help while you were gone? What if your father had left with the rest of the Bene Gesserit, and you’d never gotten to say goodbye?

“I have questions.” you rasped, voice crackly and hoarse from not speaking for several days.

“I don’t have the patience to answer them. The only thing you need to know at this point is that you are not permitted to leave my side without my consent. That means you eat with me, you attend all meetings alongside me, you tend to my affairs when instruction is given and you sit quietly when I have nothing for you.” Jessica listed, getting closer, cupping your face more forcefully. “You sleep alongside me, you dress alongside me, and you most certainly do not hide yourself from me.”

Jessica slid a hand down your back, her other hand gripping the back of your head. Her lips pressed right against her ear, wet, hot air tickling at the sensitive flesh.

“And what we do when it is just us, what we do in those quiet hours once I am healed from labor, that you will never speak of.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide and troubled. Was she… Propositioning you for sex? Was this even a proposition or just a straight up demand. You wanted to open your mouth to protest, but Jessica was faster.

“Get up.” Jessica said, exerting control over you using the Voice.

Your body obeyed unwillingly, standing before her.

“Kneel.”

Your knees buckled, and her hands were quick to jerk your face up, glaring at you with intent.

“Never, ever attempt to speak without being spoken to again. Especially to tell me what I can and cannot do. Arrakis is under Emperor Paul’s jurisdiction now. What I do to ensure House Corrino remains subjected will be none of his concern.”

The fire in her eyes died down, replaced by a soft amusement.

“It won’t be bad, dear. None of it will be bad. You won’t ever worry about being forced into a diplomatic marriage without good warning. And if you do well, if you are a good student, I will have very little incentive to send you away.”

Jessica finished her lecture, amusing herself with the soft baby hairs that clung to your forehead.

“And from now on,” she continued, voice soft, “You call me Jessica.”

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