#we went back inside because we heard guns and shouting

[anormalkidingotham]

i think i might have accidentally tripped nightwing with my backpack?

[angelwonie]

ME AND THE DEVIL || coriolanus snow

PAIRING: coriolanus x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers, angst (if you squint)

SUMMARY: Coriolanus Snow is a difficult man to please. And yet you have overtaken his mind—you, the only person in the academy who seems to have no interest in him. But he is also a persuasive man, and he usually gets what he wants. There's only one problem: falling in love wasn't a part of the plan.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, degradation, praise, overstimulation, manhandling, edging, crying, breeding kink, brat taming?, coryo is mean but down bad], canon-typical violence, mentions of blood and guns, morally gray coriolanus

It started with a change of seats.

In the academy, students were assigned a study partner meant to last throughout the year. The partners were to sit together in the lecture rooms, write each assignment together and support the other in weakness. The goal of this premise was to keep all students attentive and growing—the academy hardly accepted laziness and not at all incompetence. In the top class which consisted of, as the name suggests, the academy’s finest students, the hunger for success stood stronger, and tolerance for failure—lower. Therefore study partners were as close to a lifeline as a student could come.

Coriolanus had no problem with that. Working with others, as vexing as it could be, brought on more pros than cons, especially when he was allowed to take the lead. And if anything went wrong, he was free to blame someone else for the outcome—though Highbottom never really believed him. 

The Problem, which currently he referred to with a capital P in his mind, had begun when Dr. Gaul suddenly announced a change in the seating arrangement. 

It came as a shock to everyone and frankly, turned the whole orderly system on its head. Livia was moved away to sit with Festus; Gaius with a clearly disdainful Arachne; and he—with you, a girl just recently having joined the top class and taken the spot of a guy who had moved down in ranks. 

Originally, you had seated yourself next to Sejanus, in the only empty seat in the room. When Dr. Gaul walked into the room, they all stood. She told them not to bother sitting again and began reading the names of what was to become new partnerships.

Coriolanus could hear Clemensia letting out a groan of frustration upon her name being read out alongside Sejanus’. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from spreading at the misfortune he had evaded.

But it didn’t last long, this state of contentment, because soon his own name was read aloud—with yours. 

Your face, as he noticed upon looking in your direction, had no distinctive emotion written across it. Your brows were ever so slightly raised, the corners of your mouth straight. You spared a single glance in his direction—glimmering eyes meeting his blue ones—then, without much reaction, strolled towards the seat which Clemensia had yet to vacate. 

“I think you’re in my seat.”

It was the first time he heard your voice. It was far from gentle, but not exactly rough; clear, but not exactly loud. You were standing with your back straight, your bag at your side. 

The sound brought Clemensia’s attention to your figure for a solid second before she turned to Coriolanus, brows furrowed. 

“This is so stupid. Why would she separate us when she knows how well we work together?” 

He didn’t have time to answer before you took a step closer, this time letting your lips spread in a smile. It revealed your teeth, but no cordiality. “You’re still in my seat. You can question the authority of our teachers another time, right?”

Clemensia, a little stunned, stood unmoving until Dr. Gaul shouted at her from the other side of the room. She took her things and with a last look of disbelief cast Coriolanus’ way, moved towards her own designated seat.

You placed your bag by the desk and sat down, legs crossed at the knees. Coriolanus did the same, although his eyes drifted to his right just a little. You looked a bit like a Greek statue, with your posture and expression so much like his own. 

Dr. Gaul clapped her hands anew. “Well, what are you waiting for? Introduce yourselves!”

Coriolanus cleared his throat and you turned to him, a somewhat bored look in your eyes. 

“Coriolanus Snow,” he said, extending a hand. 

You didn’t take his hand. “I know who you are.” 

You didn’t speak to him any more that day. Or the day after that. Or the next.

All he had was your name and the (maybe feigned) looks of boredom you seldom sent him. And a growing annoyance which came about each time he politely told you good morning and you replied in a dull tone. 

Nobody knew much about you, which resulted in what students do best when met with lack of information—they make up their own. Livia Cardew claimed you were from district 1. Clemensia whispered to Coriolanus about how your place in the academy was most certainly bought by your parents. Festus Creed was utterly convinced your arrival was a test to see how long they would last alongside a girl who showed no interest in anyone and yet walked with her head high.

But the only rumor which held any truth to it at all was Arachne’s hesitant scoff about how she knew you before. 

Livia immediately picked up on the statement and leaned forward in her chair. “You did? So she isn’t from district one?” 

“No. But she might as well have been.” Arachne looked to the rest of them for a dramatic effect. “She’s a total bitch, anyway. That’s all there is to say.” 

That ended the discussion. 

One day, perhaps a week after you and Coriolanus had become study partners, you walked into the academy wearing the tiniest skirt he had ever seen. It was the academy’s uniform, only altered to be shorter and tighter, framing your hips perfectly and ending just about halfway of your thigh.

Coriolanus heard Clemensia scoff from where she stood by his side. 

“Attention seeker.”

“Is that even allowed?” Festus asked, though it was unclear whether he meant vandalizing the academy uniform or how otherworldly your legs looked in the skirt. 

Whichever it was, the answer was probably no. 

On a daily basis, you were already pretty. He knew it and he was well aware the other boys also knew it from the way they eyed you like hawks when you weren’t looking. And, let’s be honest, you were never looking at any of them. So there was a whole lot of staring which Coriolanus caught every time, while you remained either oblivious or too stubborn to acknowledge the attention. 

Now, he thought, you must be aware of it—at the very least.

He, personally, was painfully aware of it. Like an embarrassing Victorian man whose mouth waters at the sight of a woman’s ankles, he felt his pants were suddenly too tight. It was in a state of panic that he adjusted himself, clearing his throat. His hand squeezed the desk he was leaning against as he mumbled an incoherent reply that was just enough for Festus and Clemmie to continue their conversation without his input. 

From over Clemensia’s shoulder, he could see Volumnia Gaul and Casca Highbottom strolling into the room. 

“Dr. Gaul’s here,” he said, pointing with his jaw.  

“Oh, right.”

The two of them walked away and Coriolanus closed his eyes, rubbing his nose bridge. 

Once he opened them again, he was met with your frame approaching—and he almost jolted in surprise. Your hair was hanging loosely down your shoulders, pinned back on one side to reveal golden earrings. You took a step in his direction and he wondered what for—the distance between you was close to nothing. 

“Move.”

Taken aback, he fought the urge to look around and see if anyone else had heard. But no, you were too far and class was almost starting; everyone was busy with themselves. 

“Sorry?” he asked with a strained smile.

You sighed, looking vaguely annoyed. “You’re blocking my way.” 

He grit his teeth, moving aside. You sauntered past him and into your seat, which he only now realized he had been standing in front of. Your skirt flowed behind you; when you bent down to place your bag on the ground he almost caught a glimpse of your panties. Almost. But what he saw was enough to fill him with rage that didn’t subside for the rest of the lesson—along with his boner. 

“I personally think she’s nice,” Sejanus offered when Coriolanus mentioned your poor behavior towards him during lunch. Of course, he said nothing of his dick hardening—oversharing wasn’t his forte. 

“Well, you don’t sit with her.”

“I did. And she was nice to me.” 

He sent Sejanus a death glare which worked effectively to shut him up. 

Coriolanus didn’t really care about your demeanor. It didn’t mess with his work—when you had to be cooperative, you were. And outside of class, Clemensia was more than happy to cling to his arm like a koala. The same went for Sejanus. What bothered him was that look—of disdain, boredom—the lazy way in which you displayed your distaste, like he wasn’t even worth an effort to hate. Because you didn’t hate him.

You just… didn’t care. 

You terrified him. You made him see red. You made him react physically, for God’s sake. And he had spoken to you all of twice. How pathetic was that? Enough to stay forever in his thoughts, that much was certain. He was never going to say a word about this to anyone. 

But worst of all was this: you liked Sejanus. 

Whenever he saw you talking to anyone, it was either your friends from your old class or him. Sejanus Plinth, from district two, with nothing but irritating opinions and a fortune to offer. He saw you laugh at his half-developed jokes, look at him in total focus while he spoke. 

One day, about a month after it all, when Highbottom showed no signs of letting them switch seats ever again, he decided to ask you about it. Dr. Gaul was currently strolling about the lecture room, monologuing, which gave him enough time to lean to the side, towards you. 

“Seems like you and Sejanus have gotten quite close,” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. 

If you registered his words, you made no signs of it. His eyes trailed lower, to your tiny, tiny skirt and the plushness of your thighs which he was free to look at but not allowed to touch. He clenched his jaw and tried again. 

“What is it you want? His money?”

At this, your head whipped in his direction. His cool, blue eyes bore into yours and he could see anger, clear like black on a white piece of paper, in your gaze. Your shoulders were tense, lips barely parted. But this only lasted a brief moment—a glitch in your composure—before you straightened your back and grit your teeth into a feigned smile.

“And you? What do you want from him?” 

He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Dr. Gaul’s piercing voice. 

“Miss L/N and Mr. Snow! Perhaps the two of you will answer my question since you’re so deep in discussion.” The woman looked at the two of you sternly. “What is the point of the hunger games?” 

You looked at Coriolanus, who seemed perfectly content in his seat. He had no intention of answering. Bastard. You folded your hands into fists and stood up. Everyone was looking, but only Coriolanus’ gaze made your heart thump against your chest. It felt as if you had something to prove. 

“To keep the districts at bay.” With a glance towards Sejanus, you bit the inside of your cheek. “In a highly unethical way, of course. It hardly takes killing twenty-three children to prove a point.” 

“District children. Remember that,” said Dr. Gaul. “You may sit.” 

You obeyed, suppressing a sigh of relief. 

At least it was relief until you felt a hot breath on the side of your neck, paired with Coriolanus whispering, “Liar.” 

You looked at him, seemingly unphased, and let out a soft scoff. “If you didn’t like my answer, you should have said something instead.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, just that it was a lie. Don’t worry, though, I don’t think Sejanus can tell.”

Your jaw tightened indiscernibly. The boy whose curls were falling into his forehead gave a smirk, eyes trailing to where Sejanus was sitting and then back again. You just looked at him, unwavering. 

“You know nothing about me.”

“And you know nothing about me,” he said, lips spreading to reveal his teeth. “Now we’re both liars.” 

***

On the third of the month, the Plinths threw a party.

It was a large gathering, consisting mainly of the academy’s students and their immediate family. The occasion was unclear—unofficially, it was said the Plinths wanted to scout the students to see who was fit to win the Plinth prize. But it was just rumors. Officially, it was a celebration of the academy’s fiftieth anniversary.

After all it had endured—the rebellion, the war, Coriolanus Snow—a party seemed in order.

On the topic of Snow—you were terribly irritated by the way his words were swarming around your head like bees. Somehow, you had managed to remember his voice down to every shiver and for whatever reason, your brain wouldn’t let go of it. Even as your mother, with her eyes fixated on the mirror, smoothed out the length of your silky dress and asked if you liked it. Even as the two of you left the apartment. Even as you exited the car and walked up the steps to the academy’s ballroom. 

“Nervous?” your mother asked. 

“No.” 

She pushed the doors open. 

Coriolanus had showed up to the party in a fitted, dark suit along with his grandma’am right on time. Upon his arrival, he had scouted Sejanus somewhere in a corner with his overbearing parents, while Clemensia stood with Livia and her sister. You were nowhere to be seen as far as his eye could reach. His grandma’am dragged him around the room in search of conversation partners and somehow ended up deepening into a discussion with Mr. Plinth, leaving her grandson to fend for himself with Sejanus by his side. The farce lasted for about half an hour; he felt himself growing weary. 

Then, you came in.

Fashionably late, as always, with your mother at your side, you strolled in like the entire party was thrown in your honor. And truly—he might’ve believed you if you said so, with the way your strapless dress sat around your curves.

In his peripheral vision, he could glimpse Sejanus swallowing hard. Coriolanus fought the urge to outright laugh at the ludicrous hope swimming in the eyes of his ‘friend’. He was reaching too high. Way too high. 

“Y/N! What a relief, you’re here!” 

It was the voice of Strabo Plinth that made you turn your head in the direction of their little clique. A smile spread over your face, but disappeared as soon as your gaze landed on Coriolanus. He watched carefully as you approached with your mother, the pearls on your neck glistening in the overhead light. Sejanus was still staring like a fool; Coriolanus felt his blood turn the slightest bit warmer, the tips of his fingers tingling. 

“Mr. Plinth, Sejanus.” You sent the two of them a sweet smile, then cast a look at Coriolanus with your lips pulled tight. “Coriolanus.” 

He nodded at you. “Sweetheart.” 

You didn’t comment on his choice of word, but he could see your jaw tightening and your chest fluttering, pressing against the restraints of your dress.

Thankfully, it seemed nobody else had heard—Mr. Plinth was too busy gushing over yours and Sejanus’ friendship to notice anything else. Coriolanus’ shoulder bumped into yours and you shuddered. The conversation dragged on until Mr. Plinth was beckoned over by another group of people who looked like politicians, and wandered off with a cranky Sejanus in tow. 

Left alone with Coriolanus and his grandmother, you began to plot your and your mother’s escape. 

“Look, mom, there’s Livia. We should go say hi.” 

You had taken less than five steps before Dr. Gaul’s voice reached your ears. 

“Not so fast, miss L/N,” she said, a menacing smile on her face. She waved you and your mother over to where she was standing—right between Snow and his grandmother. “Surely your mother wants to meet the only gentleman whose grades are as good as her daughter’s.” 

Your mother took the bait immediately, forcing you to follow her back to where you wanted so deeply to escape. “Oh, gosh, really? Coriolanus Snow, is it?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed his head, sending your mother one of his disgustingly gorgeous smiles. 

“Now, Coriolanus and Y/N are my best students.” Dr. Gaul, more enthusiastic than you had ever seen her, pulled you and Coriolanus to either side of her, squeezing your shoulders. “And study partners, too. They work so well together. How about the two of you go for a dance?” 

“Oh, I don’t dance—”

“Yes, Y/N,” your mother obliviously interrupted, “don’t let those five-year dancing lessons go to waste.” 

Your face formed into a half-smile, half-frown. “Right.”

Coriolanus sent you a triumphant smile as he stuck out an arm for you to take. You hesitantly snaked yours through it, heart hammering as he led you onto the dance floor.

The song playing was irritatingly slow, and Dr. Gaul’s smile too wide for all this to be a coincidence, but you decided to let it slide—it wasn’t like you really had a choice. Coriolanus positioned you in front of him. From over his shoulder, you could spot Sejanus, to whom you mouthed a silent plea for help, but the boy proved useless when all he did was send you a smile and a shrug. 

Coriolanus placed his hands on your waist appropriately and you hesitantly placed your own atop his broad shoulders. Although you made sure not to touch him more than you had to, the hardness of his muscles was prominent against your fingertips.

The distance between you vexed Coriolanus to no end—especially when he had seen you in a skimpy, tiny black dress all pressed up against Sejanus at Arachne’s birthday party. His fingers harshly tugged at your waist and he smiled in satisfaction at the way your body pliantly molded into him. A gasp threatened to escape you, but you held it back, instead swallowing quietly. 

It turned out both of you were excellent dancers. Coriolanus sensed exactly when you were to make an unexpected move and was always able to maneuver you however he wanted. 

Finally, you decided to speak—a five-minute song danced in silence would last an eternity. “Clemensia’s staring daggers into my back. Am I in danger?” 

The blonde smiled. “Not at all.” 

“How come?”

“I’ll protect you.”

You smiled incredulously, shaking your head. “I hope you have a knife underneath your blazer, then, because she looks dangerous.” 

“I could snap her neck in half with one hand.” 

The way he said it—no hesitation and total seriousness—made you choke on the laughter that was supposed to come out, replacing it with a burning sensation somewhere in the depths of your stomach. His hand, on the small of your back, fiddled gently with the lacing of your dress, then lazily moved back to your waist. 

You cleared your throat. “I heard your father was a great man.” 

“Yes.”

“I’ve also heard he was a terrible person.” You tilted your head to the side, putting on a curious expression. “So, which one is it?”

“Are the two mutually exclusive?” 

At that, you laughed. Real laughter, with your head tipped back—laughter he had never heard before, not even when you were around Sejanus. Something swelled proudly inside his chest. 

“Only you could say something so bizarre. But no, I suppose they’re not.” 

He swayed his hips along with yours, then brought your hand up, signaling he wanted for you to spin. Whilst he swirled you around, you felt the tips of his fingers against your cheekbone, tucking something behind your ear. Once you were in front of him again, you brought your hand to touch the soft surface that felt like a flower. 

“What is that?”

He raised one corner of his mouth. “A rose.” 

“And why, pray tell, are you giving me a rose?”

He swirled you again, this time his fingers grabbing at the flesh between your clavicle and throat, pulling you against him. You felt his very fingertips, cold and soft, against your muscle, his hot breath against your left ear. 

“To mark my territory.” 

With that, he swirled you back and resumed the ordinary dance, with a deadpan expression and shining eyes, emitting an unidentifiable emotion. 

Your cheek trembled, although you tried to hide it by tightening your jaw. “It’s picked from your garden, then, I suppose.” 

“Grandma’am’s.”

“Really?”

Before you could do anything, he leaned forwards so the tip of your nose grazed his pulse. You stood stunned, taking a breath and being met with the strong smell of roses. You caught a glimpse of his collarbones, peeking out from underneath the two buttons he had undone in his shirt. He drew back before you could think to push him away, lips spreading into a smile. 

“Those are also from our garden,” he murmured.

“Coriolanus…”

He liked the way you said his name this time.

Not arrogantly or carelessly, but like it was the most important thing in the world; a bar of gold in your hands. And the shiver in your voice—the thought it must’ve been the most delightful thing he had ever heard. He wanted— no, he deserved to hear it again, but it would have to wait. You were looking up at him the way he yearned you would, like he was impossible to ignore. 

“Hmm?”

You smiled a strained smile, chest heaving. “The song has ended. I believe I should go dance with somebody else.”

Without awaiting a response, you released yourself from his grip and turned your back on him. He stood in somewhat of a silent shock.

And he felt it again, this immense anger because how dare you wrap your arms around Sejanus and convince him to a dance, when he’s standing right here, ready to rip anyone’s throat open to feel your body against him again. 

After your dance with Sejanus, you scurried off to the bathroom, silently inspecting the rose sitting neatly in your hair above your ear. It was a piercing red, matching perfectly with your dress. You sighed into the mirror, rolling your eyes. 

The rest of the evening was spent drinking champagne—too much of it, definitely, but who was counting the glasses which you picked up and later discarded?

Coriolanus, of course, but he was much too embarrassed to say anything and much too agitated and proud to even consider asking Sejanus to look after you. No, he’d rather see you pass out drunk than have Plinth take care of you—he could do that himself. But he didn’t. Not that day, anyway. He left the party somewhat early, assisting his grandma’am down the stairs although she claimed she didn’t need his help.

“What has gotten into you today? You’re too eager to help and you’re looking around like a lost district child.”

“I’m not, grandma’am. Get into the car.” 

But before he could follow in her footsteps, he heard laughter—the same laughter he had heard for the first time just an hour earlier.

He turned automatically, without much thought, and felt rage well up in him as he saw you and Sejanus leaving the hall shoulder-to-shoulder, your respective parents in tow. You were clearly drunk, your steps unsteady. 

Sejanus said something to you, apparently something you found funny, because you slapped his shoulder and laughed again. Unfortunately for you, the heels you were wearing weren’t exactly wasted-proof and gave out from underneath you when you moved your ankle to the side. 

It took the slip of a second for you to tumble down the remaining four steps of the stairs, and another two for Coriolanus to catch you, his arms knitting tightly around your waist. 

“Coriolanus,” you mumbled, at a loss for anything better to say. 

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, but he went out of his way to sit you down on the stairs and inspect your ankle anyway. 

“Stupid girl,” he said, landing a barely discernible slap to the side of your thigh as he stood, having concluded you were alright. “Why drink more than you can handle?” 

“I have a habit of getting in over my head.” 

He looked down at you, the disheveled hair and still present rose which you hadn’t taken out yet, and smiled. Slowly, Sejanus and the rest of them descended down the stairs and Coriolanus turned to get in the car. But first, he sent you a smirk over his shoulder. 

***

Dr. Gaul’s experiments were always interesting.

In the best cases, they were innovative and in the worst—fatal. None of the academy’s top class knew which one this one would turn out to be when they followed Highbottom into the laboratory. 

“What if she kills us?” Livia, who wasn’t particularly fond of you but neither did she feel a particular distaste for you, whispered.

“She won’t,” you whispered back. “We have the president’s son in our class.”

“Right.”

The lot of you walked inside, scattered randomly until Gaul reminded everyone to stick to their partners. You heard Clemensia let out a prolonged sigh upon Coriolanus escaping her grip and approaching you instead. 

He smiled self-importantly. “Y/N.”

“Snow.” 

The smile faded marginally.

Dr. Gaul ushered everyone closer. A servant dragged off the thick, two-meter long piece of fabric covering what at first sight looked like an aquarium, but later revealed to be a cylinder of rainbow-colored snakes. Someone gasped.

You furrowed your brows and took a glance at Coriolanus, who in turn looked back at you. You were quick to avoid his gaze, but not quick enough for him to miss it. 

Dr. Gaul sent you a half-enthusiastic, half-manic smile. “Now, everyone give me something of yours. Come on, I don’t have all day.” 

Coriolanus moved first, which you didn’t mind until he grabbed hold of you and pulled you along. 

“What are you doing?”

“What, are you scared?” 

His eyes twinkled and you tore away from his grip. But it was too late; the two of you were standing right in front of the open snake habitat. You swallowed hard.

He reached into his pocket and fished out a pencil—golden and engraved with his last name—before handing it to Dr. Gaul. You followed suit, albeit hesitantly, and handed her an embroidered handkerchief. 

The rest of the class did the same. Dr. Gaul received all the items, stacked them and instructed everyone to sit. Then she gathered it all into one big pile and threw it into the cage. Immediately, the snakes swarmed around the items, licking and slithering. 

“These snakes,” Dr. Gaul said, “are lethal only when met with a taste they don’t know. Meaning right now, when they’ve touched your things, they are harmless. Come say hi.” 

Nobody, including you, moved a muscle.

Obviously, everyone was busy figuring out why this was even an experiment if they were harmless—from what Dr. Gaul said it sounded more like a visit to the zoo. Next to you, Coriolanus furrowed his brows and stared the cage down with his icy eyes, inspecting. 

“No volunteers?” Dr. Gaul sighed. “How about Y/N and Coriolanus?” 

You froze, looking at Coriolanus with wide eyes. “You first.” 

He tilted his head. “Ask nicely.”

Forcing a smile, you swallowed your pride.

“Please.” 

He stood from the seat and you forced yourself to disregard his grin and the way his uniform strained around his back muscles. 

Just then, as your eyes followed his steps, you saw something by Dr. Gaul’s feet, something shimmering in gold. You squinted at the object. It was barely visible, currently hidden in Coriolanu’s shadow. Coriolanus walked up to the cage and the overhead light fell onto the object, revealing what looked like something engraved. The letter S. The letter N. The letter… 

“Coryo, wait!” You shot up from your seat. Coriolanus looked at you in bewilderment as you grabbed his wrist roughly. “You can’t touch them. Your pen isn’t in there.” 

“What?” His gaze dropped to the golden pen at your feet. 

You looked at his face, as if to make certain he was whole, then at his wrist in between your shaky fingers. How embarrassing, the way your body had grown so hot and how tragic, the way you had made a scene. You wondered what Coriolanus was thinking, with his mouth parted and eyes on you. 

Dr. Gaul clapping her hands together brought you back to reality. “Quite impressive, miss Y/N. I must admit, your reaction time was even faster than predicted.” 

You turned to her in disbelief and maybe a bit of anger. “You did it on purpose? Why?” 

“Why, to see if you were willing to save Mr. Snow here.” 

“That’s absurd, I would have done it for anyone!” Your face grew hot as you ripped your hand away from Coryo’s wrist, as though burned by his skin. “And what if I hadn’t noticed?”

“Then I would have known I made a mistake letting you into the top class. Regard this as a little test, if you will.” She sauntered happily over to you, where she stopped to whisper in your ear: “And for your information, miss Y/N, yesterday these snakes got familiar with mr. Snow through an assignment. I would never put him in danger, so calm your heart.” 

Dr. Gaul proclaimed the class dismissed and left—left you to stand in utter shock for at least ten seconds. Then, before any words could escape Coriolanus’ mouth, you followed in her footsteps, practically running out of the room. 

After this incident, you avoided him.

He noticed immediately, the lack of you in the hallways when he walked through them and the tenseness of your expression in class. Every time you showed up in those tiny skirts and paid him no mind, he resisted the urge to throw you over his shoulder. You had to be put in your place, certainly so—with the way you were messing with his head. A threat, but he chose to look past that, just this once. What he couldn’t look past were your plush thighs, pretty lips and addicting aura. 

Once, after school had finished, he cornered you in an empty classroom in which you were rummaging through your bag, clearly searching for something. 

“Looking for this?”

You jolted back, looking at him over your shoulder and at the kays dangling from his fingers. As your face grew hot, you turned your back to him again, suddenly not so keen on finding the keys. 

“They must have fallen out of my bag,” you mumbled. 

He inched closer, until his chest was against your back and he could drop the keys into your bag. They rattled—the only sound in the room spare for your breathing. 

He craned his neck to mumble against your earlobe, “How come you’re avoiding me, my sweet?”

You turned again.

“I’m not avoiding you.” You huffed at him, raising your head high. “Why would I avoid you? I simply don’t care for your presence.”

The side of his lips twitched. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I have class. I need to go,” you said, before realizing in terror that you’d both just had the last lesson of the day—of which he was fully aware. “I mean…” 

He took a step and you went silent. His hand cupped your jaw harshly, pointer finger and thumb on each respective side of it. He pulled you closer by his grip. 

“I thought I told you not to lie,” he said, squeezing your cheeks. “Did it not register in that pretty head of yours?”

Your lower lip trembled deliciously, eyes tinted with a hint of fear. “Coriolanus…”

“Call me Coryo. Like you did that day with the snakes.” 

There was a change in your expression: widened eyes turning normal again, lips curving into a soft smile as you pried his hand off. He let you, god knows why. Maybe because everything turned uncalculated when he was around you or maybe because he wanted you to listen to what he said. 

But you just said, “I’ll call you that when you earn it.” 

His blood boiled. 

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands, sweetheart.”

“Sejanus is waiting for me outside, Coriolanus,” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder teasingly. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.” 

He grit his teeth. “Do you think this is a game?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Is it?” 

He held his outburst enough for you to leave—then, he punched the nearest surface and let out a loud groan. A threat, definitely. A dangerous one. But he’d tear it out of you—these sensations similar to his that he knew you felt.

And how could you be of real danger to him when he was just as much of a threat to you? 

***

When Dr. Gaul and Casca Highbottom announced an ‘educational school trip to district eight’, everyone thought they were joking. 

They were, in fact, not. They took the train for almost ten hours—by the end of it, everyone was weary and irritable. Dr. Gaul told everyone to pay special attention and care to their partners and make sure they were safe, and despite the tiring trip, Coriolanus took on his task with the utmost importance. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him as he, for the third time, slung his arm around you to pull you away from passing wagons. 

“Protecting you, like Dr. Gaul told us to.” 

You snorted a laugh. “I’m sure she didn’t mean from horses.”

“Horses can be dangerous.” 

You just rolled your eyes. His arm stayed draped around your shoulders for the rest of the walk. When you arrived at the inn, Coriolanus leaned close to you abruptly and placed a kiss on your cheek. Before you got the chance to even think of protesting, he was gone. 

The next day all of you were to join Highbottom in his speech in front of the district people.

It was a simple stage made of wood—the people stood spread out on a small square in front. There were almost too many to fit. 

You, as students, were not supposed to do anything in particular other than stand there and look pretty. Coriolanus made the effort to assure you you were splendid at it already, his fingers fanning over your waist. It sent shivers down your spine, and he smiled in self-satisfaction. You cursed him for his perceptiveness as the two of you walked onto stage. 

Coriolanus was far from relaxed as his eyes scanned the crowd. You just had to wear that godforsaken skirt in front of a bunch of starved men. If he could, he’d tear all their eyes out. Starting with that brown-haired asshole in the first row. As Higbottom began his speech, Coriolanus walked up to you and stood purposefully a bit in front, as though to cover you. 

“Is it not impractical to wear a skirt today?” he asked, sending you a pointed look.

“It’s quite warm,” you replied, blinking up at him. “Do you not like it? I wore it for you.” 

He clenched his jaw, heart swelling in pride. Of course he liked it—a little too much to be considered appropriate—but not for everyone to see. He leaned down almost indiscernibly, but you felt his hot breath fan your lips. 

“When I’m president, nobody is going to see you in that skirt except for me.”

You grinned. “When you’re president? What exactly is the extent of your ambition, Mr. Snow?” 

“You are.”

His pupils were expanded, fingers snaking to hold you by the waist. If anyone noticed, he didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter anyway. His fingers found their way under your uniform and he observed attentively as your eyes widened, teeth sinking into your lower lip when he caressed your bare side. 

“Okay, everyone, let’s go,” Highbottom said, signaling his speech was finished. 

Coriolanus let go of you. The lot of you moved, surrounded by peacekeepers until you reached the truck ramp. You walked first, carefully placing your steps. 

But you only managed to take three of them before something—someone, to be precise—pulled your leg to the side and you fell.

Your brain barely registered the pain of your bare knee hitting the ramp before you were no longer on the ramp, but the ground. An ache spread along your side. Coriolanus shouted your name as he jumped down from the ramp, despite Highbottom’s screams at him to stay but.

The man who had pulled you down, who Coriolanus recognized as the hungry-eyed man from the first row, pulled out a knife from his pocket. He lounged just as you froze, unmoving spare for the trembling of your lips. Coriolanus grabbed him and pushed him down; but not before he had managed to sink the knife into your calf. He heard you scream. 

“Help her!” he roared at the peacekeepers, who had their weapons raised at the man who was trying to get up from the ground, but weren’t firing. 

Coriolanus, enraged, ripped out the gun from one of the peacekeepers’ hands. He heard some words of protest but ignored them entirely as he pulled the trigger. And again. And again. And again. Until the man was more holes than flesh. 

“Help her, for fuck’s sake!” he roared again; this time they listened and gathered around you. 

He spared only a glance at your bleeding figure, then turned to the rest of District eight’s crowd—the part of it that hadn’t thought to flee the scene—and fired again. He heard Sejanus shouting, he heard Highbottom shouting, he heard Dr. Gaul shouting, and the peacekeepers gathered around him like flies, but he listened to none of them. He fired and fired until the magazine was empty and someone tore the weapon out of his hands. 

“Coriolanus,” you whispered. 

Only now did he fully look at you, at the cut in your leg and at your frightened face. He ran over, relieved nobody tried to stop him, and kneeled next to you along with a clearly useless peacekeeper. There was blood on his white shirt, but not on his fingers when he ran them over your thigh gently. It didn’t look like a deep cut, but it was bleeding a lot. 

“It’s okay, Y/N, you hear me? Listen to me!” He grabbed your tear-stained face with one hand and turned it so you were looking into his eyes. “You’re gonna be okay. Don’t close your eyes.” 

When you didn’t reply, he shook you a little bit. “You’re alright, okay?”

“Okay, Coryo,” you said meekly. 

He nodded and tore a piece off his shirt to wrap it below your knee. He was angry, unbelievably so, and felt if he didn’t look at your face now and then he might kill all of them: the peacekeepers, his fellow students, Highbottom. He bore a hatred for them all. But you were the priority; you needed saving.

He heard you whimper, using one hand to hold at his shoulder. 

“Why did you…”

He cut you off. “Don’t talk. I’m gonna fix this. You’re okay. Keep your eyes open.” 

You obeyed for as long as you could, for as long as it took for the medics to arrive and carry you away; then, you let yourself drift off. 

***

When you first woke up, you were met with Coriolanus’ perceptive eyes staring back at you.

“Coryo?” you asked. 

“How do you feel? Does it hurt?” 

You wanted to answer, but your mouth felt as if it were made of lead. Coriolanus shouted for the nurses to bring you water, yet before he had even turned his head to you again, you were fast asleep. He sighed. 

***

The cut wasn’t deep. 

That’s what the doctors from district eight said, their heads hung low in shame. You were alone upon waking this time, spare for the nurse they had left to take care of you. 

“Coriolanus,” you said. “Where is he?”

“He just left to get some rest, ma’am. We sent him away for an hour fifteen minutes ago. He’d been sitting here all night.” 

“I want to see him.”

“It would be unwise to deny him his sl—”

You stood up and walked out, much to the nurses’ dismay. 

After a ride to the inn in which all of you were staying, you walked into the hallway that you knew belonged to the boys.

You had no idea where Coriolanus’ room was, but thankfully you met Sejanus just as he was leaving his room. 

His eyes lit up as he saw you. “Y/N! You’re okay, thank god. I was so wor—”

“Where is Coryo?” 

He stopped, smile falling the littlest bit. “Last room to the left.” 

You smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thanks.” 

You knocked on the door three times and stood silent, waiting. After half a minute, you heard his voice—husky and deep—telling you to come in. 

He was standing by the window, looking out at the desolate district eight. The back of his new shirt was just barely holding out the strain his muscles created as he crossed his arms. 

You cleared your throat. “Coriolanus.” 

Clearly not expecting it to be you, Coriolanus turned on his heel, sporting a smile as he saw your face. You had changed clothes—another tiny skirt and shirt adorned your body. You were walking without difficulty, just like the doctors had foreseen, perhaps even more confidently, with your head high.

He expected you throw yourself into his arms, or maybe pull his hair and kiss him, but he absolutely didn’t expect you to cross your arms over your chest and ask him: 

“Have you lost your mind?” 

“Sorry?” he asked, frowning. 

You took a step back, biting the inside of your cheek. “What have you done? What have you done, Coriolanus?” 

He looked into your eyes in search of disgust, terrified, but found only worry. You were worried for him. Not them, not that man, not your reputation and the rumors—you were worried for him.

His gaze flicked down to your bare legs, no scar left from the incident, and then up to where your stop was squeezing your tits together. Did you come in here to scold or seduce him? He really could not tell. 

He took a step in your direction, reveling in the way your resolve was starting to fade, lower lip trembling. “I was protecting you.”

“You didn’t have to kill him! You didn’t have to kill them all like animals!” 

At this, something switched. He snorted, almost mockingly. Against your will, you felt your panties getting sticky when he walked closer and closer, until he had you backed against the wall. One of his hands rested next to your head while the other he ran over your cheek, stopping to cup your jaw. 

“You don’t think he would have aimed higher if he’d gotten the chance? You don’t think you’d be dead if it weren’t for me?” His hot breath landed on your lips and you swallowed. He dragged his finger along your lower lip and you opened your mouth obediently, making his lips curve into a smile. “Now be a good girl and say thank you.” 

Your legs rubbed against one another subtly. “Thank you, Coryo.” 

“For what?” He slapped the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. 

“For protecting me.” 

His fingers crawled up your thigh to soothe the place he had slapped, rubbing small circles against your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing, how damp your panties were and how you had to press your lips together in order to avoid letting a whimper slip. The poor lighting cast shadows on his face, blonde curls falling just above his eyes.

He was devouring you even though he’d barely touched you. 

“You’re trembling,” he said, eyes twinkling. 

“It’s the cut.”

He tsked, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Liars don’t get rewards, sweetheart. I thought I’d made that clear.” 

He saw your nipples straining against the thin fabric of your shirt and tightened his jaw. You were here to seduce him, definitely. His desperate little girl. Funny how you had such a dirty mouth until his hands were on you—then, you seemed to go entirely limp and thoughtless. One of his hands snaked to the back of your head, the other stayed touching your thigh—too far away from the place you wanted it to be. 

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes to reach him, but he just pulled you down by your hair. 

“No. Not until you beg me for it.”

You scoffed shakily, reclaiming the very remnants of your dignity. “I won’t beg you for a kiss.” 

He pressed his chest against your sensitive tits, pulling at your hair so your noses were touching. 

“Don’t I deserve it after everything I’ve done for you?”

“I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“But you liked it,” he remarked, sliding his warm hand up your shirt, until he could fiddle with the hem of your panties. His fingers tapped against your clothed pussy only once, making you jolt, before returning to the spot between your hip and leg. “You liked having someone kill for you. Just as you like when I touch you and when I care for your attention.”

“I don’t—” 

“I think you’ve had a little too much being a brat, though. Now it’s my turn.” He slapped your pussy through the fabric and this time, you didn’t manage to hold back a whimper. “Beg. Me.” 

“Please,” you whispered, face hot. 

“What was that?” He pretended not to hear, leaning down even more. You wanted to punch him for his self-importance, for his cruelty, but it was what you craved, too—you’d take everything he gave you, although you’d never say it out loud. 

“Please kiss me.” 

His hands left you entirely before they cupped either of your cheeks. Your heart hammered in excitement watching Coryo’s eyes feeding on the sight of you. He lowered his head slowly, connecting your lips so softly you almost didn’t feel it. You tried to grab his collar and bring him closer, but then he just pulled away and sent you a pointed look which made you retract your hands. 

Then, he kissed you again—this time pressing harder against you, making your eyes flutter shut. His fingers held you softly, as though you could break any moment, but his lips enveloped yours like he had been waiting for the opportunity for years. 

You opened your mouth immediately as he licked at your lower lip and he hummed in appreciation. His fingers tilted your head as he slipped his tongue inside. He was hot against your own tongue, swirling and exploring, not letting you breathe out anything except small, timid whimpers. He smelled like roses, tasted like them too.

Your hands wandered to his broad shoulders, then down his clothed chest, his solid muscles against your fingertips. They flexed underneath your touch, a throaty groan of Coryo’s disappearing in your conjoined mouths. Your mouth watered at merely the thought of seeing them bare, seeing him. 

Coriolanus pulled away only when he had to take a breath—angry at this humane obstacle in his way but soothed upon seeing your swollen, parted lips.

“You’re nothing without me,” he rasped out, trapping your jaw between his thumb and pointer. “Say it back.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. “I’m nothing without you.”

He pushed you against the wall, lips against your jawline. He sucked a mark into your neck and you mewled out his name, tangling your fingers in his hair. His tongue ran over your throat, then swirled around your collarbones as he pressed wet kisses to them and your stomach. 

Once he reached the waistband of your skirt, he dropped to his knees, looking up. You felt something turn in your stomach; the heat between your legs intensified tenfold.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs languidly. Once gone from your body, he picked them up and dangled them in front of your face. You tried snatching them from him, but he just stuffed them into the pocket of his pants. 

“For later,” he said, smiling. “To remind me what a desperate little girl you are.” 

“I’m not—”

He cut you off by bunching your skirt up around your hips. The cold air made you shiver lightly, but his eyes set on the most intimate part of you like he was about to eat you didn’t really help, either.

Before you could look away from embarrassment, he dragged his nose through your slick folds. You let out a choked gasp as he came in contact with your clit. His hands slid up to your upper thighs, squeezing and prying them apart so you weren’t in the way for him to take his time. And he did take his time—painfully so. 

After almost five minutes of aimless fingers trailing over your cunt but never touching for too long and never on your clit, you let out a loud whine, legs fighting against his grip to close. To no avail, of course—Coryo was much stronger than you and very intent on keeping you in place. 

“Be patient,” he murmured into your heat. His eyes flicked up as a warning and you instantly stilled. 

His tongue finally touched you in the form of small kitten licks on your clit that made your breath ragged and fists tighten. He saw you tightening around nothing, heard you whining pathetically for more and mercifully let his tongue enter your warmth. You clenched around him immediately. 

He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily to look up at your pretty face twisted in clear rapture. 

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” 

When you didn’t answer, he brought down his hand to swat at your clit disapprovingly. You squirmed at the contact, slick practically dripping out of your cunt. His eyes met yours and you quivered, suddenly afraid he’d stop. 

“Yes,” you whimpered. “So much.” 

As a reward, he pushed two fingers into your pussy, watching as you gasped for air, furrowing your brows. He scissored them a little bit, then dipped his thumb into the arousal coating your cunt and let it rub small circles into your already puffy clit.

Your legs felt weak already and he must have sensed this, because he grabbed your thigh and positioned it on his shoulder. This way, he could curl his fingers enough to hit the spot which made you whimper so loudly it was shameful. 

Soon, his thumb was replaced with his mouth that sucked your tiny clit into his mouth.

He heard you moan his name and felt his pants tighten significantly. Part of him hoped everyone could hear the noises you were making, while another part of him felt the urge to murder anyone who dared even overhear these sounds that were innately his possession.

From his position, he could see your tits brushing against your thin shirt and cursed himself for not being in a spot that would allow him to play with them. He’d have to settle for playing with your cute little cunt. 

Your legs started shaking when he added another finger to pump in and out of your dripping hole. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking into his face. “Feels so good, Coryo, thank you.” 

A guttural moan of his vibrated through your body and you cried out his name. A warm coil began tightening in your lower stomach. It was clear you were close—from the way your whimpers had grown unabashed and squeaky, the way you clenched around his long fingers, the way your hips stuttered against his tongue. 

“Oh my god, Coryo, I’m so close— Can I come?” 

So polite, he thought. Shame you only acted like this when his tongue was flicking at your clit. 

His eyes glimmered as he looked up at you. “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Please, please, let me come, please, Coryo.” You let out a broken moan as his teeth grazed your clit. “Please.” 

Your legs spasmed around his head as you felt it close, so close, and your eyes fell shut in pleasure.

But then it was ripped from you, this bliss, as Coriolanus pulled out his fingers and retracted his tongue, leaving you empty and stunned. You stared at him, lips parted, and at the self-satisfied smile adorning his features. 

“What, you really thought I’d let you come when you’ve been acting like a brat?” He licked his fingers and something throbbed between your legs. “Stupid girl.” 

He stood up, turning his back on you. You couldn’t see it, of course, but he was silently counting the seconds it took for you to protest against the treatment. Finally, you retrieved your consciousness in full and pushed yourself off the wall. 

“Wait, Coryo,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm. “Please. I’m sorry.”

He turned, raising his brows. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a good girl now, I promise.” Your lower lip quivered; he saw the promise of tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m gonna make it up to you, okay?”

At this, you sank to your knees—a sight which made his adam’s apple bob. But he was getting impatient; his cock was aching painfully and when you looked at him with eyes widened and teary like this, he was willing to give you anything in the world. 

“Get up,” he demanded. 

You did as told, thighs trembling slightly, and his hands cupped your cheeks. Coriolanus led you to the bed in the middle of the room, hovering above you with his forearms on either side of your face. His hardened cock rubbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants. He laid it against your plush thigh for relief, but all he got was a slutty mewl from you and more precum leaking from his tip. 

“Sejanus is next door, you know. You don’t mind?”

“No.” You shook your head eagerly. “I don’t care. Just want your cock.”

The side of his mouth lifted as his hands slipped under your shirt. You gasped as his fingers found your nipples and pinched them, tantalizing your poor clit to start throbbing harder. He pulled the skimpy shirt over your head and threw it away somewhere, letting out an audible groan at the sight of you. Next to go was your skirt. 

He stayed staring at you for some time before he suddenly landed a slap to your cunt, making you jolt with a whimper. Then, he leaned to press open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking the skin that covered your pulse into his mouth. 

His lips grazed your jaw. “You want him to hear, then? Is that it?”

“N-no,” you whispered shakily, feeling the tips of his fingers teasing your perky nipples. “No, Coryo, just want you.” 

“Say it again.” 

“I want you, Coryo, only you. I’m yours.” 

Coriolanus let your fingers slip under his shirt, letting out a shaky breath as you traced his abdominal muscles. He helped you pull it over his head, then he pulled down his pants and briefs as well. You watched hazily at his cock free from its restraints, certain if he’d tease you anymore you would start drooling for real. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing—he slapped his dick against your clit once, twice, watching you squirm, then positioned himself at your entrance.

Your foreheads touched as he pushed inside agonizingly slowly.

“I’m yours, too,” he whispered against your mouth. 

He was decently thick and longer than average—even lying still in your cunt, he reached places your fingers couldn’t dream of. Your eyes had a hard time staying open in facing the fullness which came with having him inside, but he was having none of it. 

“Look at me when I fuck you,” he said.

“But you’re not even fucking me.” 

You felt his cock pulse inside you before his hands roughly grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your chest. This newfound angle was overwhelming in itself—when he additionally began thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt, you saw stars. You let out small noises, but he paid them no mind, leaning forward to have a good look at your face.

“Who knew the academy’s best student was such a fucking slut?” he tilted his head, ignoring your nails clawing at his biceps. “Guess words aren’t enough, hmm? I need to fuck that arrogance out of my sweet girl?” 

You didn’t reply; he didn’t expect you to. His cock found that spot that made your toes curl faster than you could have expected. When he hit it for the first time, you let out a whimper close to a shriek in volume. Instead of slowing down, he just went harder, his hips slapping against yours in the otherwise silent room. He thought Sejanus probably was able to hear it all. 

It was easy for him to slip his thumb between your parted lips; even easier to coax you with a gentle slap to your slack jaw to suck on it. Your mouth wrapped around it and he groaned, pushing your thighs further against your tits. He saw your eyes glossing over, felt your poorly suppressed moans against his finger.

And god, you were so compliant to his touch, so perfect. 

“Spread your legs,” Coryo said, moving his hands away.

You obeyed to your best ability, practically letting your thighs fall limply at your sides. He spread them further and sank deep into your dripping pussy. Your slick had made a mess of the sheets below, creating a small puddle in the white material.

His fingers grabbed both of your wrists and placed them on your lower stomach. One of his hands kept them in place while the other played with your sensitive nipples, twisting them until a couple tears escaped your eyes. 

“Don’t move your hands.” 

When you nodded weakly, both his hands grabbed your waist, guiding you back and forth to meet his relentless thrusts. He could see the vague outline of his cock in your stomach, your tits bouncing deliciously before him with each abusing rut into your cunt. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled, lightly tapping at your clit. 

Your walls sucked him in like it was all you were made for, fluttering around his cock and leaving a creamy ring at the base of it.  He wanted to fill you up—not only with his cock, but with his cum, wanted to watch it leak out onto this bed, wanted to hear you beg him to stop. Him, only him. He wanted you forever. 

Coryo leaned down to connect his lips to yours, teeth napping at your lower lip. You were whimpering, mewling his name, and he tightened his grip on your waist. He pushed you further down on his cock, again and again. 

“How does being the first lady of Panem sound, huh?” 

You just nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks in reaction to his cock bullying the gummy spot in your cunt.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, rubbing tight circles into your clit. “I’d give you everything you want. You hear me, sweetheart? Everything.” 

His hips rutted into you so roughly your vision was hazy, but clear enough to grab at his sturdy shoulders. You had disobeyed what he said, but it seemed he was unaware, chasing his own high.

His cock was thrusting into the right spot repeatedly, fingers maneuvering your clit so that you almost screamed, slick practically gushing out of your hole.  

“Fuck,” you whined out, feeling your pussy pulsating. “Coryo, I’m—”

“Yeah, I know. Come for me, sweetheart.” 

You let go and so did he—seed spilling into your cunt as you clenched around him. You sobbed his name and in an attempt to soothe you, he planted kisses along your collarbones. He let you ride out your orgasm against his hand before he pulled out.

Vaguely, you could see his cum spilling out of you and onto the sheets. 

Before you could even make an attempt at calming down your heart rate, he stuck two of his fingers into you again. 

“Too much,” you whimpered, but he paid you no mind, stuffing his cum back into your swollen cunt. Too tired to move, you let him do it, only mewling his name softly from time to time.

Once he was done, he licked his fingers clean and smiled alluringly. You scooted closer to kiss him—he tasted of you and him combined. His hands cupped your face as you both lay down, facing one another. 

“You’re nothing without me, either,” you said, running your finger down his exposed chest. “Mr. President.”

His grin widened. “That’s right, sweetheart.”

TAGLIST: @peterpan-neverfails @urfavevirgoo @sayyysss @hwajin @hoshiseon @atrwriting

also big thank you to kathy, kiza and lex for being my enablers! ilyy

[mariacrow]

How about a (bayverse)transformers x reader that is from our universe? Like we somehow got into the movies which means we know everything, who dies,when they die, who to trust ect. so that would mean that we can save bots that are going to get killed yk?(jazz my baby🥺🥺) okay so if you have no clue how to write it, you dont have to!!!

I totally get you! It’s like an AU I have myself :) My brain simply CANNOT comprehend that they’re dead. What if, to add a little more spice, we’re actually a Witwicky or better yet Sam’s sibling! I’ll leave that to your imagination ;) and I know exactly how to write this piece ;)

AU where Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet are saved by Y/N!

2nd person

female reader

takes place in Transformers (2007)

takes place in Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)

takes place in Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)

battle, injuries, reassurance, swearing, flirting…

JAZZ lives!

“YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!? YOU WANT A PIECE!?” blasting Megatron’s legs, Jazz was angrily shouting while you were watching, standing on top the same building Megatron was on along with Jazz in his claws.

“No! I want two!” Megatron yelled angrily.

“Hey! Hey big guy! Megs!” you yelled as loudly as you could so Megatron could hear you. Your plan was to distract him. “Megatron!!!”

Just when he was about to rip Jazz in two pieces, he turned around because he heard you. Jazz took that opportunity immediately and blasted him in the face. Megatron groaned in pain and irritation as his grip on Jazz went loose.

“You ain’t that smart after all, you pile of rust!” Jazz mocked him as he got out of his grasp and jumped towards you.

Megatron quickly turned around and aimed at you both while groaning in indescribable anger. Jazz grabbed you and jumped off the building while Megatron was trying to blast you both.

“Hold on tight, baby girl!” not the best time for flirting.

Jazz transformed into his BMW and secured you in the driver’s seat with a seatbelt, driving down the building, vertically.

“WOOOAH! JAZZ WATCH OOOUT!”

Inching from the ground, he partially transformed to safely push himself onto the ground. He did scratch his bumper though.

“Aw man! Not the bumper!”

He was speeding through the streets, drifting and sliding like the pro he is. You could barely comprehend what just happened.

“Quite of a bumpy ride, huh~?” he said kinda seductively.

“Jazz, you’re insane.” you said, chuckling.

“You saved my life out there, kid, you know that?”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Yeah.” he chuckled, “ “Friends~” “

🩶

IRONHIDE lives!

“For the sake of our survival, a deal had to be made… With Megatron.” Sentinel said as he repeated his gun.

Your eyes widened. Your heart skipped a beat as a heavy wave of adrenaline struck your body. The gun you were holding felt heavier than ever.

“IRONHIDE, WATCH OUT!!!” you shouted and started shooting at Sentinel’s face, aiming for his optics. You made him groan as his aim on Ironhide became wonky.

Ironhide turned around in time and got his weapons out. Sentinel managed to blast his arm off. It made Ironhide groan and lose balance, falling onto his knee as he was trying to shoot Sentinel with his other arm but the pain was keeping him away from being precise.

“NOOO!” you panicked because of Ironhide, seeing he’s badly injured.

“TRAITOROUS PUNK!” Ironhide cussed.

“GET BACK!!!” Lennox yelled.

Bumblebee reacted quickly, the fight was on. Sentinel managed to blast the base, sparkles and heat were all over the place, you could barely see anything. The sharp pieces of metal were flying everywhere which got you injured. Your arm was badly hurt which made you drop your gun and yelp.

Suddenly you could feel a huge, strong metal hand grab you and pull you back. Clinking of Ironhide’s transformation surrounded you and you soon found yourself inside of the black RAM.

He floored it along with Bee. You could hear him groan. His turning was wonky, he was barely driving.

“We need to find Ratchet, ASAP!”

“I don’t need no medic!” you could hear pain in his voice.

“Ironhide, it is not the time for your stubbornness! Please! That grandpa blasted your whole arm off!”

He angrily drifted into an alley and transformed back. You flew out and hit the ground as he slid down the wall, sitting down, holding his leaking shoulder.

You bravely got up and climbed on his leg, taking a better look at him.

“Ironhide, please…” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “This is serious and I don’t know how to fix it…”

Seeing you almost cry because of him made his spark ache. The fact you worry so much about him made it even harder for him to suppress his feelings…

“Fine… Call Ratchet…” he huffed, his ego kinda hurting.

And so you did. He was on his way. You were praying he arrives safely.

Ironhide picked you up and placed you on his other shoulder, gently keeping his servo around you. You smiled and leaned against his helm, giving him a hug. Funny how you both got your left arms injured. Twins!!!

“It’s gonna be alright… I promise…”

“Well I ain’t dying yet.” he chuckled through the pain, “I didn’t even get to take you out.”

He made you chuckle, “Well then. What are you doing tomorrow?”

You both had a good laugh as Ratchet’s sirens were approaching.

Ironhide was saved.

🩶

RATCHET lives!

Ratchet and you were hiding on that abandoned boat for a long time. It was quite difficult for survival but you had him and he had you. He has great survival skills, he taught you a lot.

The night they went hunting for you both almost meant the end. Thankfully you were there with him to react on time. You weren’t sleeping, you were guarding the hiding spot.

It was a peaceful night with a clear sky. You furrowed you eyebrows once the silence was ruined by helicopters in the distance. They were getting closer, you saw them as well as bunch of cars on the dirt road. Your eyes widened as you ran to Ratchet.

“Ratchet! Ratchet, wake up! We need to go, now! They’re coming for us!!”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yes! I saw them in the distance! Come on, hurry!” you said while quickly packing everything you had, picking up your bag and running out with him. He had a bad feeling about this but he trusted you nonetheless.

The boat got blasted from far away, you didn’t even see who did it. All you knew is that it made you jump off the boat. Ratchet grabbed you mid air and transformed into the ambulance vehicle. You found yourself tumbling inside as he got onto the ground and floored it.

Someone kept blasting you from far away. It was Lockdown tracking you but you had no clue.

“Someone is tracking us! We need to lose them!”

“I know where to go. I suggest you hold on tight! Safety first!” he’s so wholesome.

Suddenly, Ratchet’s tire got blasted. Both of you almost went flying.

“Primus!” Ratchet exclaimed and groaned.

“WOAH!” you bounced inside, securing yourself with a seatbelt, “Your tire is gone!”

Nevertheless, he kept driving with no back tire. You kept being chased by enormously strong blasts until you lost whoever was trying to kill you.

“Whatever was trying to kill us… it isn’t human. I don’t think we have such artillery… and it wasn’t coming from the sky for sure.”

“Humans have made an alliance with the Deceptacons. They won’t stop until they butcher us all!” he said with emotional pain in his voice while driving deep into the countryside, going for an abandoned junkyard.

You sat there, resting. Ratchet seemed hopeless until he spoke.

“Optimus will come back. I know he will. All of this isn’t for nothing…”

You looked up at him and smiled, standing up.

“I’ll go find a spare tire.”

You made him smile, “Thank you. You’re a sweetheart…”

That night you saved the medic’s life without even knowing how butchered he could’ve been by Savoy, Lockdown and KSI…

Dividers belong to @saradika 🩶

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment VII

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage

Word Count: 4.2K (she’s kind of long)

Part VI | Masterlist | Part VIII

When you arrived back in 12 you really thought your life was about to get a whole lot easier. Revolution or not, you were no longer a mentor so you wouldn’t be dragged out to the Capitol for a show every year. And after a couple years no one would remember you anymore.

As you and Haymitch returned home, you hesitated to say it, scared there was something you were missing. “Haymitch, are we done?”

“What?” he asked, very confused and a little scared.

“Are we done with all the Capitol shit? We’re not the mentors anymore. I’m just scared there’s something I’m not thinking of and we’re still in the game.”

He pondered for a second. “I think we’re out of the Capitol spotlight,” he answered with a smile. Hope and relief flooded into your chest as you jumped into one another’s embrace. You were both smiling and laughing like never before until it finally died down. “I think Katniss will need our help from time to time and we’ll probably be expected at the reapings but yeah, I think we’re done.”

You two had your own private celebration that night since it would be cruel to rub it in Katniss and Peeta’s faces. You just hoped they could churn out two victors quickly (separate years of course) so they could get out of the spotlight and the Capitol would lose interest in them once they settled into their fabricated domestic life.

~

Your celebrations for a better life seemed to come too quickly because the next day trucks full of peacekeepers were rolling in. You were just sitting in the living room, reading when you saw smoke coming from the center of town. Normally smoke wasn’t an alarming sight in the coal mining district but you could also see people running around frantically. You quickly jumped off the couch, rushing to put your boots on, not even bothering to put a coat on.

You ran outside, finding Prim, observing the chaos. “Prim, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted back to you.

“Go inside, get your mom,” you shouted as you ran towards the center of town.

You reached the Hob, or what was the Hob, finding several peacekeepers, more than ever, burning everything to a crisp. You spotted a young girl, maybe 15, cornered by a peacekeeper, shooting fire at her feet, torturing the girl. You had no doubt he was laughing under his mask.

You approached from the side, the man not even noticing you until you grabbed her hand. “Go, sweetie,” you told the girl. She didn’t need to be told twice as she bolted away as the man was distracted. He ripped his mask off angrily, preparing to yell at you but you watched as realization dawned over his face. “Hurt me if you want, I’m sure Snow would love to hear how you burnt one of his most lucrative victors,” you taunted.

Seeing that burning you wasn’t worth it he pursed his lips angrily before taking the torch to hit you with. It hit your hip, knocking you to the side a little but he seemed satisfied getting a hit in so he went back to burning objects. Not wanting to push your luck, you ran off, heading toward the town square. There you were horrified to see Gale tied to a whipping post, Katniss stood in front of his with a gash on her face, Peeta in front of her, and Haymitch in front of him, talking to a peacekeeper with a gun pointed at him. “…you already marked up her face on the eve of the big wedding,” you heard Haymitch explain as you ran over.

“Move,” the man pointed his gun at you now.

“Man, you really don’t get it. You don’t recognize her either? Y/N L/N? You really think President Snow wants four dead victors?”

The guy looked pissed but relented. “Clear the square!” he suddenly yelled in the scariest voice you’ve ever heard from a human being. “If anyone is spotted out after dark, they will be shot on sight!” The man gave you all a glare, spitting in the dirt before going with some other peacekeepers.

“We have to move him,” Katniss cried as she undid Gale’s cuffs. Haymitch and Peeta both hoisted Gale’s arms over their shoulders. They carried him all the way to Katniss’ house where her mom and sister were preparing for him.

It was a frenzy of Katniss, Prim, and their mom trying to help Gale while you, Haymitch and Peeta just stood to the side. As things calmed down and Gale settled in for what no doubt would be a long, painful night, you and Haymitch headed home.

“So this is Snow’s attempt to suppress the Districts,” you observed, stepping inside. “Crackdown on black markets and insubordination.”

“I guess,” Haymitch sighed, turning on the television. It immediately showed scenes of the lower districts where trucks of peacekeepers were rolling in and terrorizing citizens. “It’s propaganda.”

“Shove it in their faces that any act of defiance will be shot down immediately,” you scoffed. “God I hate him.”

“I know, c’mon, let’s go to bed,” Haymitch said, gently placing a hand on your hip. You flinched when he touched the no doubt forming bruise from that peacekeeper earlier. Haymitch pulled back, afraid that he hurt you. “What?”

“Nothing, just a peacekeeper got mad before I found you,” you explained. “He had this girl backed into a corner, using his flamethrower to torch the ground under her feet like a fucking psycho. I made him stop and he got mad and hit my with it. No big deal,” you dismissed.

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine, seriously. Nothing I can’t handle and nothing worth getting whipped or executed for,” you asserted. “Now can we please just go to bed?” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Sure,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around your waist with a kiss to the forehead.

~

A couple days passed as Gale healed. There were a few more whippings in 12 but no executions like in some of the other districts where there were riots. The peacekeepers really had locked down 12, Katniss wasn’t able to go out to the woods and you could tell it was getting to her. As for you and Haymitch your home had become a sanctuary. You two finally felt like you could be safe. For the first time since either of your reapings you felt somewhat safe.

All of that came crashing down as you sat down to watch the Quarter Quell announcement. You thought that this must be weird for Haymitch since he won the 50th games and the second Quarter Quell. In some ways you realized that your husband may be the deadliest victor since he won against twice as many tributes.

The screen turned on, revealing Snow on his little speech balcony. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of the annual hunger games. It was written in the charter of the games that every 25 years there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh, for each new generation, the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. and now on this the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion we celebrate the third Quarter Quell,” Snow pulled out a card for the first time, “as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol. On this the third Quarter Quell the amount of tributes will double. Two male and two female tributes from each district-”

“They did that already,” Haymitch murmured.

“-and they will be reaped from the existing pool of victors.” Your heart sunk in your chest and you let out a dry sob. No, this couldn’t be happening. You just became safe. “All victors from all districts will be eligible for the reaping, no matter the number of victors from a district, nor their age or disability.”

Haymitch angrily threw his glass through the holographic screen, hitting Snow in the face.

You felt the tears slipping down your face as Haymitch threw your glass. Noticing your tears he held you tightly. “Nothing’s gonna gonna happen to you, okay?” He pulled back to look you in the eye, brushing your hair away. “You’re gonna make it out. I’m gonna protect you.”

“No,” you cried. “Katniss has to make it out. She’s the Mockingjay. If we want this to be the last game she has to make it out.”

“But-”

It was your turn to comfort him as tears began to slip down his cheeks. “Haymitch I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you. If you don’t come out of that arena, neither will I.” He sighed quietly, looking down at the ground. “Haymitch…” he looked back up at you, “we’re gonna die aren’t we?” It was a sobering thought to both of you. Neither of you were strangers to the thought of dying but now that you had been happy about two minutes ago, it was a tragic thought.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” you shouted to who you had no doubt was Peeta.

You were proven right when Peeta walked through the door. It wasn’t typical of him to skip pleasantries but then again this was in no way a pleasant situation so he just jumped right in. “Look, I know this isn’t fair to ask but Katniss needs to come out of that arena.”

He went to continue his ramblings until you stopped him. “Peeta, we already agreed neither of us are coming out,” you gestured to your husband. “We can’t guarantee Katniss’ survival but she has two less competitors.” You knew you couldn’t tell Peeta about the rebellion, he was too close to all of this.

Peeta looked broken but grateful. “Thank you,” he cried.

“Why don’t you go be with your family?” Haymitch suggested gently. Peeta agreed, once again professing his thanks before leaving. “This may be a part of Plutarch’s plan,” he suddenly suggested.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s the head gamemaker. Right now he’s Snow’s closest advisor. I’m sure his plan is to get Katniss out. Like ours.”

“Snow will never let Katniss get to top five… much less be the victor,” you pieced together.

“Y/N, we might have a shot at surviving,” Haymitch said as it dawned on him. You both were excited that you may get to actually see the rebellion after a few very sobering moments. “Let’s not get our hopes up though.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed.

Suddenly Katniss burst in. She immediately grabbed a bottle of whisky off your bar cart. “I’m here to drink,” she explained.

“Well that’s the only thing I can actually help you with,” Haymitch said, grabbing more glasses as Katniss slumped onto a chair.

“Peeta gets out,” she ordered. In contrast to Peeta’s begging.

“Peeta was just in here begging for your life,” you replied, taking the glass Haymitch handed you.

“I don’t care. He deserves to get out.”

“You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy,” Haymitch said from beside you.

“I know,” she agreed.

“We’ve already decided we’re not coming out,” you informed her. “We can’t guarantee anything but he has two less competitors.”

“Thank you,” she said stoically. She took another swig of the bottle. “Why couldn’t it have been you two? You actually love each other. You could convince the districts,” she sighed, “and Snow,” she added.

“Just not how we had to play our games,” you shrugged.

You three all drank for a little while until Peeta came back in. “What are you doing?” he asked, startled by the scene. You were laying on the floor, giggling, while Haymitch and Katniss were slumped in their seats, also laughing.

“Accepting our impending dooms,” Haymitch laughed, holding up his thrice refilled glass as if toasting.

“No, you’re not. We have to train and get ready if any of us want any shot,” he insisted.

“Haymitch and I don’t have one,” you giggled.

Peeta shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Forget it we’ll talk tomorrow when at least you two,” he pointed to you and Katniss, “are sober.”

“Wait you don’t wanna drink with us?” Katniss whined.

“No,” he answered bluntly before leaving.

~

The next morning Peeta had the three of you sat in his living room. Both you and Katniss were hungover. Haymitch started drinking to deal with his hangover. “Look we have to start training. We have a week until the reaping. These other victors, especially the careers, have probably continued to train, or trained other tributes, ever since they won. And we’re seriously behind,” Peeta said, taking Haymitch’s mug of coffee mixed with gin.

“Hey!” he protested.

“You have to get sober,” Peeta said. “There won’t be flasks in the arena.”

Eventually Peeta got all of you outside, starting with jogging around Victors Village. You and Katniss took it pretty easily. Peeta struggled a little with his prosthetic leg but fortunately since it was Capitol made it reacted with the rest of his body. Meanwhile Haymitch was struggling. He was stumbling over all the uneven ground and he didn’t exactly have the same stamina he had 25 years ago. You stopped several times to try to help him along but he always brushed you off.

Next you moved onto strength. By now Haymitch’s sobriety was starting to creep in. You knew Haymitch was strong but withdraw was making him physically shake. As for you and Katniss, you were struggling in the strength department. A childhood of malnourishment could never be fixed. As the four of you continued on, Haymitch got worse. He and Peeta were doing pushups when your husband suddenly collapsed. You went over to help him up but he just staggered off into the house. You gave Katniss and Peeta a quizzical look before following him.

You found him in the bathroom, puking his guts out. Letting out a sympathetic sigh you kneeled down next to him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. “It’s okay, get it all out. Sobriety is hard after 25 years,” you tried to laugh. But the smell was becoming so much you were struggling to not vomit as well.

After a few more minutes Haymitch was done and it was your turn. “Thanks, sweet-” but you interrupted him by also vomiting in the toilet. He held your hair and rubbed your back just as you had done to him while whispering comforts.

When you were done you sat up, finding a comfortable place in between Haymitch’s legs, your back against his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Sorry, I think it was the smell,” you explained.

“Sorry my vomit made you vomit,” Haymitch laughed. You could feel the laughter in his chest, bouncing you the slightest bit.

After a few minutes you shakily stood up. “I’ll get some water. You should lay down, rest.”

“I’m not that tired,” he dismissed.

“Well if we want any hope of you being a functioning sober in the arena you need to rest. Besides, I’m exhausted.” It’s true you were incredibly exhausted. Probably just from the hangover though.

Haymitch complied, heading to the bedroom while you went to get glasses of water. As you returned with the ice water, Haymitch was laid in bed, waiting for you. You handed him his drink before slipping into his embrace. “You really think Plutarch has a plan?” you asked.

“Yeah, I do. I don’t think he’d send us all into the games with no plans to get most of us out. We’ll know more once we get there. But I’m not gonna let anything happen to you before we’re ready,” your husband promised.

“Same to you,” you said, intertwining your fingers with his. You brought you hands up to your lips, pressing your lips to his knuckles.

~

Haymitch got better over the next week. He no longer shook unless he really had pushed his limits. You, however, got worse and you were suspecting that it was more than being sick because Haymitch was. You realized that you had missed your period but you had chalked it up to everything that was happening in the past month. You spent nearly every night and morning hunched over the toilet or trashcan. You had dismissed it to Haymitch as nerves but you could tell he was getting suspicious as well. You were about 90% sure you were pregnant but you could get that confirmed in the Capitol. As for the paternity, you hoped to whatever deity was out there that your timeline was right and it could only be Haymitch’s. Having some Capitol bastard’s baby would be Snow’s ultimate punishment to you.

But you didn’t want to say anything if you were wrong. You were also terrified of Haymitch’s reaction. Would he be excited? Angry? Devastated? Those reactions also dependent on whether or not Plutarch planned to try to keep you alive. There were so many questions racing through your head as you were marched towards the stage for the reaping. It was honestly just cruel for everyone as the two names in each bowl taunted you.

“Welcome to the 75th annual Hunger Games,” Effie said in a pained voice. You could see genuine pain in her expression as she made it as short as possible. “As always, ladies first.” She grabbed a slip and approached the microphone. “For the first female tribute from District 12…” you didn’t know why you were holding your breath. You’d be picked no matter what. “Katniss Everdeen.” A single tear rolled down her cheek “And the first male tribute from District 12… Haymitch Abernathy.” When she finally called your name it felt like you had had an ice bucket dumped over your head. Again, you didn’t know why, it’s not like this was your first reaping where you had been plucked from the bowl by chance. This was a calculated move by Snow this time.

You didn’t bother to listen to the rest of Effie’s speech and you were quickly ushered onto the train. Everything happened in a blur, you were too focused on being tested in the Capitol. But you managed to sober yourself up enough to discuss who you’d be competing with. Fortunately the trains had access to all the reapings and past games so you and Haymitch shared highlights and stories about the biggest names in this year’s games.

“Cashmere and Gloss: siblings won back to back games, the pride of their district. Gloss will be our biggest threat, he won as any career tribute does. At least in the beginning we should be fairly safe from Cashmere. Avoid sleeping with her and you’ll be in the clear. The other two from District 1 are pretty straightforward.”

“Enobaria from 2 is extremely deadly. She excels in hand to hand combat and did anything to win her games. The male tribute from two had her pinned and it looked like he’d win when she ripped out his throat with her teeth. She has since had them filed into fangs. I guess to rip out more throats in two? Whatever. Avoid confrontation with her.”

“Wiress and Beetee from 3 are both brilliant. He won his games by electrocuting just about every other tribute in the arena. Let the last couple kill each other. He’s also beloved by the Capitol because he basically makes all their cool stuff for them.”

“Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, and Mags Flanagan. I don’t know much about the fourth. Finnick Odair is the darlin of the Capitol, people love him. He won his games at 14, youngest ever. He is also very skilled in combat. Weaknesses include Mags and Annie. Mags will not be much of a threat tragically, she truly is a very sweet lady. As for Annie, I’m confident that Finnick will die for her. She sort of won her games by default when everyone else drowned at the end and she went a little nuts after.”

“Nothing really special about District 5, they all won at least 10 years ago, the oldest won 35 years ago. Not threats.”

“District 6 only has three tributes, the Morphling triplets. They all won their games by hiding until everyone else was dead. They’ve all been avid morphling users ever since.”

“In District 7 you have Johanna Mason. She won four years ago and won almost exactly like my wife here did. Extremely angry and violent. The other three? Treat them like careers, best skilled in hand to hand combat with axes.”

“District 8, none are really threats. Woof, here, is really old. Has gone kind of senile so maybe avoid him in the training area. May stab you with a sewing needle before you even get to the arena.”

“District 9 only has one tribute. Also not a threat.”

“District 10, just treat them like careers. They’ve been slitting cattle’s throats since they could walk so avoid close combat with them.”

“District 11 aren’t threats. Chaff is missing his left hand so do with that information what you will. Any questions?”

“What about your games?” Katniss asked.

“Katniss we’re not threats to you,” you sighed. “We already agreed we’re not coming out.”

“I just wanna know,” she insisted, not backing down.

“Fine,” Haymitch relented. “I won the 50th Hunger Games where there were 48 tributes. Like this one is supposed to be. My arena was honestly beautiful but toxic. Everything was poisoned. The bloodbath was… insane. Three-fourths of the tributes died at the cornucopia. Partially because several of them were late to the buzzer because they were so distracted by the meadow we were in. Basically the same thing happened in every game. The careers hunted everyone down. I had allied myself with one of the girls from my district, Maysilee Donner.” You knew that talking about Maysilee was hard for Haymitch. She truly had become his friend in that arena. “We protected each other until around the end when we decided to split up so we wouldn’t have to kill each other. I heard her screaming a couple hours after we split. Some guys from 2 had attacked her. I had managed to kill both but she died in my arms.” Your husband took a shaky breath before continuing. “Not even a day later it was me versus the girl from one. I had discovered the edge of the arena before, it was a cliff and I had figured out that whatever hit it would return to where it came from. So when it came down to her and I, she had managed to wound me with her axe, slicing my stomach. I ran for a mile, bleeding, to the edge of the arena. She threw her axe which missed. She didn’t realize that it was coming back until the blade hit her head and I was crowned Victor. And because I won the way I did, Snow had my family killed,” Haymitch finished bitterly. You placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. You knew this was a lot for him. He had been drunk for the last 25 years hiding from his games. Now here he was, sober for the first time and reliving that experience.

Peeta didn’t seem to know how to react but Katniss pushed through the tension, asking you about your games.

“It was set in a canyon. It was so dry but there was a single stream that ran through the middle. It looked really thin, like it’d dry up in only a couple days from above ground but I managed to find a way underground where there was more water. The cornucopia was set in one of the widest spots of the canyon where even then it was a fairly tight squeeze between the walls. if you didn’t figure out how to climb you were pretty much screwed because it was like being stuck in a hallway with the careers. They did what they always did. Group up and hunt everyone down. It was fairly easy for them to do it because a lot of the kids were either too heavy or too weak, a very fine line, to climb up the walls. I basically hid up above or down below everyone, attacking them when I could. As I told you the first day I found a girl who had managed to grab a pack and stole her supplies. I quietly and slowly picked off every career until I slit the boy from 1’s throat and won.” You explained your story stoically but inside you were crumbling, something you had done ever since you won. Everyone thought you were so okay with killing when you won but truthfully, you weren’t. You didn’t think any Victor was no matter what it seemed like.

Part VI | Masterlist | Part VIII

[night-dazai]

requesting an ango x reader where reader gets hostage and ango just flips the hell out because he hasn't realize his s/o has been kidnapped for 2 days and his ass is so overworked he didn't know 😭

In the end he gets back to his s/o safe and sound 💕

Note: Sorry took a lot longer almost a month, was not feeling so good for the past weeks.

Let's Go Home :

Tags: angst, kidnapping, comfort and fluff

Heavy eye bags, dead eyes, messy hair sweating in an air-conditioned room. Ango stood staring at the big screen in front of him, people near him froze seeing the hacked screen where you lay on the floor beaten and bruised. Dress torn, bleeding from your lips and a little from the head and unconscious your body lay while someone angled the camera to your puffy face strained with tears and blood “Release him, Jay whom you arrested a week ago if not she is done for good “ a voice said showing your face and chuckling another voice spoke .” Hey hey she is such a beauty lets not let it go to waste “ hearing that voice few more voices broken into laughter as the screen went black.

Coughing and wheezing you slowly open your eyes, which hurt. Your entire body hurt but your head hurt even more and so did your hands which were tied behind your back as you sat in the chair trying to look up at the men looking at you. “Your bf sure loves you I think he looked so horrified, “ one said. Words were heard but it was hard to process “Ango….” you thought “Sa….me” you mumbled before fainting once again recalling that night ……………………………….

“It is my fault …it is my fault “ he mumbled to himself holding his head and almost tearing his hair out. Ranpo was looking at the files he had shown about Jay while the director of ADA was talking with Mori “It has been 2 days, it is very risky now but since they showed she is alive …we can try I guess” he said while the director just listened staring at Ango.

His heart was beating fast, very fast for the past few hours and all he could imagine were the worst possible things those men could do to someone like you. A normal person who has no idea what about the cruel underground world.”If only I took her calls, if only…..I was there …”

“I should have never fought, even if I did I should have gone and said sorry. I should have not left her alone … She is not involved in this world at all ……” he thought his nails scrapping his scalp when a bandaged hand yanked it from his hair “Enough we found a location if Ranpo’s guess is the right its to best to go fast, “ he said.

Ango could hardly process what was happening, he tried searching for you for hours but had no clue but the moment the mafia and ADA joined hands it was in 4 hours they found your location, was he too tired to search, was he angry at himself for not taking your calls ? he did not know but he knew one thing “ they are going to regret it “ he said following Dazai and Ranpo out.

“Please take it I am sorry “ you kept thinking clutching the phone as if it were your life you kept calling your lover “Please ango I am sorry “ you mumbled keeping it close to your ear as the ring went and went and said the person had not taken the call. Tears ran down your face, you both fought yesterday night when he came home late for the 1000th time according to you “I was forced to work okay “ he said rubbing his temples indicating he was annoyed “If you do not want me in the house.... fine “ he said in a low tone and before you could react he had left the house and did not come home in the morning also.

In the morning when the doorbell rang, you ran to it thinking about how to say sorry, but something told you to take a look at the window near it and there stood 5 men one with a gun talking to the others.

Running inside you hid in your closet and called your lover but he did not take the phone, and it did not take long for the kidnappers to find you and here you were fainted all bloody and beaten up thinking how you shouted at your already overworked boyfriend “ I am sorry …” was all you could think.

“No more ..it hurts ….” when your whole body pain was felt again as you slowly started to gain conciseness you just wanted to rest. But no people were screaming and shouting, there were some harsh words “What was…was it…..” you paid a little closer attention “ Chuuya!” said a loud voice “she is in that room “.

The voice sounded familiar but you could not place it on anyone and instant gunshots were heard, but you could not move or do anything and at this point, your body was on the verge of collapse “ Ango…..be safe….” you thought and fainted as you a bright light in front of you.

The room door which burst open had Ango rushing into you while destruction and chaos were behind him. His hands skilled but trembling untied you from the chair, and he slapped your face gently “Wake up…wake up…y/n….” he said but you did not wake up.

Ranpo came in and stood at the entrance, he knew Ango for reasons and many knew him for various reasons but none were good. They have seen him smile and laugh but not one person has seen him this devastated. Dazai smiled a little standing next to Ranpo “ he found some he truly loves I guess “ he said.

Ango was rocking your cold body mumbling “You are safe …please see me y/n ..open your eyes please” his eyes were wet with tears “Let's take her to the office and get her treated “ Dazai said placing a hand on hso shoulder .

Your head had a sharp sting “Again….” you thought “Voice…just voc-Ango ?” you mumbled slowly opening your eyes. The room was brightly lit it took your eyes a few seconds to adjust but once it did you saw your lover.

Ango was talking to the director or ADA and Mori while the doctor lady from ADA was adjusting your IV “Ango..” you mumbled again a bit louder gaining all their attention.

He rushed to you, holding your hand “Y/n..yes me I am here ….i am here “ he said. His voice broke as he kept saying sorry, his hands were trembling. You have never seen your boyfriend like this and you also did not like this. You wanted to tell him it's okay and it's not this fault, you wanted to comfort him but your throat hurt at the thought of speaking loud.

Collecting any strength you had you pulled him closer by his shirt, hugging his neck you kissed his cheek “ I love you …” cough ..” home.. let's go home “you said. Your words made the man lose all kind of control and sob in your weak little arms but it felt so strong and warm as everyone left the room.

[specialagentlokitty]

Noah Stilinski x teen!reader - to keep you safe

So I was wondering if you could please write an imagine of Noah stilinski x teen reader. Where the reader has abusive parents and one night, since she's friends with strikes and knows about the supernatural, Noah goes to pick her up to take her to his house since stokes jeep is broken and can't go pick her up, and he heard yells and hits, so he goes in an ya know, takes her parents to the police and then takes her to his house and after that night when she wakes up screaming and Noah comforts her, he resides to adopt her. - @inlovewhithafairytale 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents!

Glancing at your phone, you set it aside as you turned to carry on doing your homework.

Stiles was getting his dad to come pick you up and bring you over to the pack meeting since he couldn’t, but the sheriff didn’t want text you himself as it could’ve been misinterpreted.

If anything, you were slightly glad that Stilinski decided against letting you know he was coming, because if your parents saw that the sheriff was coming they would be furious with you.

And they were already mad enough since you got home slightly late after school because you were stuck in some traffic.

You could hear them about downstairs, banging around and making a lot of noise as they slammed everything closed.

It put you on edge slightly, but it made it easier to pinpoint where they were, and you were hoping that they would stay down there.

But it didn’t last for long because you heard shouting of your name, so with a heavy sigh, you got up to go down the stairs.

Stilinski didn’t even need to open his car door to hear the shouting coming from inside.

Cautiously he got out, holding his hand to the radio on his shoulder, and he crept closer to the house as the shouting got louder, along with the sound of things being thrown and smashed.

He heard your voice cry out, and he immediately radioed for backup before running to the door, kicking it open.

“On your knees!” He yelled.

Your parents spun around, and seeing him with his gun aimed at them and they got in their knees.

“(Y/N)?” He called.

There was no response, but he could hear your heavy breathing, and the sound of something being moved.

You were refusing to come out of wherever you were hiding yourself, so he cuffed your parents, keeping them in his eye line as he looked around a doorway.

You were stood at the other end of the room.

“Hey kiddo, you alright?” He asked.

You nodded your head, but you refused to look at him.

He waited, spoke to Parrish who came to help, and he made sure your parents were out in the back of the police car before coming back.

He had to carefully walk over the broken glass, and he made his way over to you.

“Hey there kiddo…” he whispered.

He crouched down, and he looked around at all the glass and the broken table next to you.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Fell.” You murmured.

“By accident?”

You shrugged a little and he sighed softly.

“Are you hurt (Y/N)?” He asked you.

“Nothing too bad, I can deal with it…”

“Let me see.”

You showed him your arm which as a decent sized cut on it, but it wasn’t bleeding much, and your face where you had a bloodied nose, and a forming bruise on your cheek.

He nodded his head and shield gently at you.

“Alright, we can handle this. We may need to go to the hospital though for that arm.”

“We can’t please I can’t afford it.”

“Alright, I’ll see about getting Scott’s mom to come to you.”

You nodded and he stood up, going to speak to the other man before he came back over to you.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you here, where’s your bag?”

You pointed to the other end of the room, so Stilinski walked over and picked it up before coming back over.

“Come on then, we’ll come by tomorrow and get some more clothes alright?”

“Okay…”

You trailed after him, getting into the front of his patrol car, keeping quiet as he drove to the station.

He let you wait in his car while he went to deal with your parents.

Once everything was ready and he had done what he needed to do, he came back out to the car to find Malissa there and tending to your arm.

“How did you know we were still here?” Stilinski asked her.

“Scott was driving past, he didn’t want to scare (Y/N) so he didn’t come over, but waited for me.”

“Scott was here?” You asked.

“Yeah, he was driving through to come home.” His mom smiled.

You nodded your head a little, and when she had finished with your arm you got back into the patrol car and waited.

Stiles’ dad spoke to Malissa for a few minutes before he took you back to his.

“Is stiles home?” You asked.

“No, he’s at Scott’s, I think he’s going to stay there so you can have his room for the night, is that alright?”

You nodded your head.

You had been here loads of times, having grown up with the two boys, so you knew how to find Stiles’ room as you set you bag in the desk.

His dad walked over and stood in the doorway.

“How long as this been going on?”

“I don’t know, it’ll be fine tomorrow though.”

“You’re going to go back?”

You shrugged a little.

“Don’t have a choice, gonna have to go home at some point Mr Stilinski.”

“You can stay here for as long as you need, you know that right?” He asked.

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay.”

“Alright, we’ll in the morning we’re going to have to ask you some questions but I’ll be there the whole time.”

You nodded and he left.

You didn’t both to change, you simply just dropped on the bed to go to sleep.

Sleep didn’t last for long, you dreams twisted to nightmares and everything felt all too real.

Your screams made Stilinski jump from his skin and he shot up, running straight up the stairs to the room you were sleeping in and ran in.

“Hey, hey I’ve got you.”

He picked you up, cradling you against him.

“It’s okay, you’re alright. It’s just a dream, it’s a dream (Y/N).”

He held your head to his chest, and he held your tightly.

“Come on, wake up…”

Your eyes snapped open, and your struggled against him so he let you go, and you stared at him in fear.

“It’s alright, you’re safe here. You’re safe okay?”

You stared at him, tears falling down your face.

“Don’t let them hurt me…”

“I won’t, i promise, alright? I’m not letting them hurt you ever again, come here.”

You let Stilinski hug you, and you sniffled a little, and he sighed to himself, resting his back against the wall as he held you.

You were clinging to him for dear life, as if you were to let go and you would be in danger.

So when you fell asleep, he stayed there for a little longer to make sure you were in fact asleep before quietly leaving, but keeping the door open and light on.

Heading downstairs Stilinski ran a hand down his face and sat at the table.

He couldn’t let you go back there, and he couldn’t let you potentially fall into the wrong hands either.

You needed people you felt safe with, and you felt safe with him and stiles.

So there and then he decided he was going to do what it takes to adopt you, to keep you in his care for good

[atlasscrumpit]

Moon knight x reader

Owned

Your body felt so heavy, it felt like someone had sedated you.

"Easy, dulce niña." You heard a suave voice whisper as you whimpered and slowly tried to open your eyes.

The first thing you saw was someone's knees, you followed it up to see a gloved hand with a gun pointed at you.

You gasped and fell back a little, snapping yourself out of your daze.

Your eyes travelled up further and you saw a man smiling at you.

"What's going on?" You whispered looking at him in fear.

"Don't worry, precioso." He said, the smile still on his face.

"You have some information that we need." He said as you looked at him in confusion.

"We?" You questioned before smoke began to form behind him, you watched a large bird like form appear.

"Khonshu." You grumbled looking at them unamused.

"Should've known this flashy bastard was your avatar." You grumbled as the man chuckled.

"You forget yourself, niña." He said clicking the gun as I glared at him.

"You won't fucking shoot me because you need me. I know what this is." You grumbled as Khonshu came closer to you.

"You have an avatar, you can't have me as well." You muttered as he chuckled lowly.

Gods and goddesses like him always tried to perform the ritual so they could have you as there's.

You were a powerful being and the Gods wanted you to do their bidding.

"That's why I have my avatar. He's going to own you." Khonshu growled as I chuckled.

"A human can't fucking own me you dumb bird." You growled as the avatar stood up and chuckled.

"Oh, mi amor. You've got no idea what we can do." He said kneeling down to stroke his hand over your face.

"You're fucking disgusting." You growled before he slapped you across the face.

"Might have to teach you to respect your new master." He said as you kept your head looking away from him.

"Let's perform the ritual." Khonshu said as you felt tears in your eyes.

"Fine, take away my freedom. Humans are heartless creatures." You whispered, but they ignored you.

They began the ritual as you kept your eyes closed.

You felt the familiar burning on your chest where his symbol would burn into your skin.

You bit down on your lip trying to not scream in pain.

It was finally ever and you panted and looked down at your chest.

"Three?" You muttered in shock, you didn't think it was possible to have three masters.

"Why do I have three masters?" You muttered, the avatar looked angry.

"I thought you said Marc and Steven wouldn't be an issue." The man growled at the god.

"I don't understand." You whispered looking up at them.

"Deal with it, Jake." Khonshu growled letting you finally know the name of the man.

"There are others within this body, they are your master now too. But you listen to me and me only, is that understood?" Jake growled pointing the gun at you again as you nodded.

"Of course, master." You replied making him smile.

"Good, then we won't have a problem." He said as you looked away from him.

"Take her somewhere safe where no one will find her for the time being."

--

You'd arrived back at what you assumed was Jake's apartment.

He went up to a book shelf and pushed it away to reveal a metal door.

"Welcome home." He said opening the door and shoving me inside making me fall.

"I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere." He said chuckling before he closed the door.

It was completely dark and you curled in on yourself.

This was the cruel reality you were used to.

--

After about two hours you heard someone stumbling around outside.

"Marc, why did you leave my books in such a mess?" A British voice muttered as you stood up slowly.

Should you call out to him?

Jake and Khonshu would be mad.

But Marc and Steven were technically your masters as well.

"Help!" You screamed out bashing on the door.

"Behind the book shelf!" You shouted hearing heavy breathing.

"Marc, is this your doing?" He muttered as you waited for a moment and heard him shuffling around.

You heard the book shelf being moved away.

"I just need to find a key!" He shouted out as I backed up against the wall and took a deep breath, praying he would find it.

"I can't find a key!" He shouted in desperation before you heard a loud bang and the door was ripped open.

"I don't need a key." He said, you noticed now this must be Marc.

"Want to explain why the hell you're locked in a secret room in my apartment?" He said as you stepped out and took a deep breath.

"Khonshu needed me to use, so he got Jake to perform a ritual to own me. So, now you, Steven and Jake own me." You explained as he looked at you in shock.

"Jake and Khonshu are working together?" He asked as you nodded.

"Fuck, that fucking bird."

[he-goes-down]

There Was A Time:

Past chapters/warnings

2. Right Next Door To Hell:

“Y/N?”

-------

Second person POV:

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

You looked up to see Duff, standing in the pouring rain, with a quizzical look on his face. He didn’t make fun of you for crying, he didn’t mock you, he was just worried and confused. What were you to tell him, ‘Oh I was walking to my hotel then realised it doesn’t exist, or better yet it doesn’t exist yet.’ You contemplated on what to say. “The hotel,” you paused. “Cancelled on me. Gave my room to some rich bloke.” You lied, without looking up at him. Soon you felt that the rain stopped but you still heard it, but you looked up to see Duff holding his trench coat over you. “Come on, you can stay with us for the night.” He said, as he held a hand out for you to grab. “Are you sure? What about the others?” You asked, this was like a dream come true, but you didn’t want to be a nuisance. ‘Never mind, fuck that it’s cold.’ You told yourself and took Duffs warm hand. You both hid under his trench coat from the rain, as you walked to where they stayed.  “I think I have to say sorry, this is probably worse than staying in the rain.” Duff laughed lightly trying to lighten the mood. “We call it the Hell House, and not just because Axl lives in it. Everything that can happen, happens there. So just be warned.” He spoke. As the two of you approached the place, you could already hear everything that was going on inside. Yelling, shouting, music blaring, even someone snoring. It was small and run down, the porch had wood rot and a spot that looked like it was set on fire, one of the windows had small holes in it, and the other one was brown form was presumed as too much smoking. You stepped up onto the porch, Duff was in front of you holding the doorknob and twisting it. He jiggled it and turned it in all kinds of ways until it finally opened.

Slash was sleeping on the couch, that explained the loud snoring. Izzy and Axl were yelling, over a bucket, on which leaking hole in the roof should they put it under. Steven was just sitting on the floor in front of a small box TV minding his business. They were all in little worlds of their own and didn’t even notice the two of you come in. “The bathroom is all the way down there, on the left. Go shower and get into dry clothes.” Duff said with a smile, “Oh and if the hot water doesn’t work just turn on the cold water by the sink.” “Thank You.” You smiled back as you nodded your head. You walked past the two pasty men bickering with your bags, and Izzy noticed. “Oh wait! And don’t dry your face with the green towel. Maybe just don’t use any of them.” Duff warned. Suddenly all of them, except sleeping beauty, looked at you and then Duff with a confused look. You rushed to the bathroom before they could ask anything, and Duff to answer their questions. You went down the corridor of rooms, every time you looked at any part of the walls you saw a hole, possibly from a punch, they all looked around the same size. You pasted one the doors that was split in half, and just the bottom half stayed on the hinges, The whole room was filled with punch in holes. Axl’s room was probably the best guess. You got to the bathroom and closed the door. ‘Of course, it doesn’t lock’. You put your bags by the door to block it, you hoped none of them was that stupid to open the door but better safe than sorry. The shower curtain had little specks of mould on the edges, more on the ceiling, a crack in the bath, a crack in the wall, as well as the mirror, the lid for the cistern of the toilet was nowhere to be seen and not even a bodybuilder could open the window without breaking a few fingers. Not to mention the window wasn’t even frosted or could be covered in anyway. You slid off your wet clothes and hung them over the curtain rail before hoping in the shower. 

The shower wasn’t bad, although you did have to turn the tap on, and Slash rushed you so he could pee. You dash into the room right across from the bathroom, as you had a towel wrapped around your body, and closed the door. At least this door could lock. ‘Shit my clothes!’ You panicked. You could go back to get it, but you really didn’t want Slash to see you in just a towel again. You could already hear his giggle just thinking about it. You just dried yourself more thoroughly to bide the time for him to leave the bathroom, your hair was still wet, but you weren’t letting that unholy towel have a chance at ruining it. Maybe a shirt could dry it faster. You looked around the room, still not getting an idea of who’s it is, searching for a shirt. You picked a Ramones shirt of the ground and sniffed it; you then gagged and instantly dropped it. It was potent. The towel that you had on was now damp and cold, so you didn’t stop looking for a big shirt to wear, big enough to cover a bit of your thighs, since you also forgot your underwear in the bathroom. You finally found one that didn’t smell like every bodily fluid rotted through the seams. It was dark grey with red writing printed but it had peeled off, so you didn’t know what it said. It was quite big and nearly went down to your knees, ‘Probably Duffs’ you thought as he was the tallest one out of the band and it would look big on anyone. As if on cue Duff opened the door, looks like no door in this house really locks.  He stood there not saying a word until he snapped back a few seconds later, “Shit! Fuck! Sorry I didn’t know you were in here, the bathroom was occupied.”  He apologised and tried to avert his eyes. “Um… is that my shirt?” he coughed. “Yeah, my bad. My clothes are stuck with Slash in the bathroom. I’ll give it back to you I promise, I just need to-.” “It’s fine, keep it. It looks good on you.” He said with a smile, as he began to where you were. “You didn’t try on the ones on the floor, did you?” “How are those things so filthy!?” You yelled. “I use those to clean up everything.” He chuckled at your response and explained that they didn’t have enough to get fancy drying cloths or things like that. 

Sooner than later Slash finished pissing (he fell asleep, and Duff banged on the door to wake him up.) You finally got your clothes, dressing into your long pyjama pants and the new shirt you acquired. The rest of the guys didn’t seem too bothered with you staying over, they enjoyed your company and grateful that you could easily sort out Izzy and Axl’s feuds. The rest of the night you watched TV with Duff and Steven. Izzy didn’t say much to you before going to bed and it was only really him talking to the group while you were there. Axl and you had a good chat over musicians you two like and slipped in a flirty line every now and again. Slash was falling asleep every few seconds, so you and Steven helped him to his bed. “I think I’m gonna go sleep.” Steven yawned, “Night.” He yawned again as walked off. “Night.” Duff waved. You were curled asleep on the couch with your head on the arm rest and your feet next to Duff thigh. He looked down at you sleep with a small smile on his face, it was just one day but he already felt that you two had a strong bond. He watched a few more minutes of a mindless show before switching it off and yawning. You had already discussed that you would be sleeping on the couch, Duff didn’t think that it was a good idea, it was dangerous around this area, and he didn’t want anyone coming in and possibly kidnapping or anything. He stood up from the couch before glancing at you again, you shivered in your sleep. It was still cold seeing as it was still winter, raining, and there wasn’t any proper heating in the ‘Hell House’. Duff sighed, he picked you up effortlessly, regardless of what you said about the couch. He then walked to his room with you in his arms and lied you down in the bed before tucking you in and throwing over another blanket just encase. 

“Goodnight doll.” He whispered as he closed the door and went back to the couch to sleep.  

[livingincolorsagain]

a’s sambucky master-list 2023:

ao3:

Rough Surfaces

There was an inherent loneliness to being Captain America.

And it wasn’t like Sam had never been lonely before. He'd been lonely, he’d been alone, and he’d been lonely and alone, but there was something about this, a feeling so old he was surprised he could still feel it; that it still affected him.

That hollow silence that was once filled with the sound of life.

Figaro meowed and Alpine didn’t answer, and for a split second, Sam forgot. He panicked.

Then he remembered, and it weighed him down, an ache so deep it felt engraved into his very being.

And really, it was fine. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do this alone, he could, but.

He didn’t want to.

Mostly, he had started to believe he wouldn’t have to.

The Chance of You

It’s a bright winter morning, with clear skies and a gentle breeze, the sun a welcome kiss of warmth on Bucky’s cold cheeks, when they meet for the first time.

the great war series:

if we survived the great war

The rev of Bucky’s motorcycle cut through the quietness like a clap of thunder in the middle of the night. Sam straightened unconsciously, feeling something bitter and burning rising up his throat.

He strained his ears, waiting with a held breath as Bucky walked in, steps silent, even now, with no other sound to soften them.

All week, Sam didn’t know what he would do when he laid his eyes on Bucky, and now that he was getting closer and closer, Sam felt the last remaining bit of his patience shatter.

somewhere in the haze

It was raining outside still, or maybe again, the lightning momentarily brightening the room, and Sam thought that was what disturbed his sleep, but then the sound of footsteps registered, and his heart skipped, his body jerking in shock. He tried to push off the bed, grab the gun underneath it and investigate, but his body refused to comply, sore and raw as he felt.

The footsteps grew closer, until Sam heard the creak of the bedroom door opening, and the steps stopped and light poured in from the hallway, and it was only then that Sam realized the footsteps were familiar.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” Bucky said, sounding faraway.

secrets i have held in my heart (and check out the wonderful gifset made by @saryasy)

The thing about falling was, it was impossible to forget.

You could never forget the drop, the way your heart moved in your chest, as if trying to reach out and hold onto something, to break the fall; the way it jumped and skipped and stopped and raced. You could never forget the roaring wind, the sound of your shout echoing and fading. You could never forget the crash, softened by white snow that grew crimson around you.

Bucky fell once, and it was burned into his memory like a lightning scar on skin, permanent and tender to the touch.

when you unfold me (and tell me you love me)

In the quiet, subdued safe house, the heater groaning was the only sound inside. It was almost, but not quite, masking the howling of the wind outside.

Sam stared out the window, watching the whirlwind of snow as it painted everything a bleak white.

He was hyper aware of the ice pack on his left shoulder, right where Bucky had left it, trying to stay still so as not to pull on the new stitches that went from below his ribcage down to the middle of his stomach.

let me put my lips to something

Bucky took a firm hold of Sam’s wrists, pinning his arms to his sides and holding him in place.

“No,” he said, trying to bite back his smile and be firm, but it was hard when Sam’s eyes were that bright, his gapped-tooth smile so wide and infectious.

Then, Sam’s smile turned a bit mischievous, and he surged forward, mouth open as it latched onto the closest part of Bucky—which happened to be his neck—and bit down.

A small moan escaped Bucky’s lips before he could stop it.

tumblr:

(also can be read on ao3: love in a few words)

cats, scarfs, and homemade soup

pumpkin spice latte proposal

things you said after it was over

where it hurts

because the world is ending

rules

sock drawer

[thelikesofus]

you are my boy, buckaroo

9-1-1 on Fox | 1724 words | hostage situation, athena is buck’s mom prove me wrong, established relationship buddie, wrong place wrong time buck strikes again

tw gun mentioned

Read on AO3

Athena is in the middle of lunch when her phone vibrates in her breast pocket. It has been a day and it's only 2 pm. Her morning patrol ended at a residential home for someone’s idiot boyfriend who had left his keys at work and his girlfriend had called the cops thinking someone was trying to break into their house. The guy’s phone had been in his pocket the whole time yet he hadn’t thought to call his girlfriend to let him inside. 

For a moment she considers ignoring the call and enjoying her sandwich in peace she knows that Harry has a basketball game today and he was going to call her when the game ended.

Leaving her sandwich on the plate with a sigh she tugs the phone out of her pocket and grins at the caller ID. “Hello, Buckaroo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“‘Thena.” A tiny voice whispers down the line. Athena’s hackles are up instantly and the skin on the back of her neck goosebumps immediately. 

“Buck? What’s going on? Are you in trouble?” She’s already walking out of the station and crossing the parking lot to her patrol car, her sandwich abandoned. She keeps her phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear as she fishes out her keys and climbs into her car. “Talk to me, Buck. What’s going on?”

“I’m at the grocer's on West Adams Boulevard.” He’s still whispering and between the shaking of his voice and the commotion around him, Athena can barely pick up what he’s saying. “They barred the doors. I think someone has a gun.”

“Okay. Okay, Baby. I’m on my way.” She throws the patrol car into reverse and rips out of the parking lot. “Are you somewhere safe? Buck?”

“Athena, I don’t think–.” There is shouting on Buck’s end of the line followed by a grunt and a lot of rustling.

“Buck!”

“This one had a phone!” A voice that isn’t Buck’s carries down the line and Athena’s heart feels like a lump in her throat as she switches lanes and turns onto the next block. 

“Buck?” There’s more yelling and then the call ends with a resounding beep.

It takes twenty minutes to get to the grocer Buck mentioned and when Athena pulls up there are already two other cruisers and the ambulance from Station 26 parked outside. Athena swings open her door and charges across the parking lot with her phone still gripped in an iron fist. 

Glancing at the building, she can see very little movement inside though most of the windows are blocked by display cases and overstocked food aisles. “Sergeant Cammeray? What's the situation?”

The older sergeant looks at her and calls out, “Sergeant Grant. Were you called to this too?”

“No, but one of my boys is inside? Can you tell me what’s going on?”

He nods and walks over to meet her pointing towards the front door as he walks. “I’m told it’s a hostage situation. We’ve got about ten civilians inside, two men went in just before 2 o’clock and barred the doors behind them. Someone walking down the street called 9-1-1 after they heard gunshots from inside. We’ve had one girl who snuck out through a back door in the loading bay,” He points to a young woman sitting in the back of The 26’s ambulance with a shock blanket wrapped around her shoulders. 

“She able to tell you anything?” Athena asks.

“Not really. She works there and was in the back when they came in. They must have seen her leaving though because they barred that back door behind her.”

“So they let one escape but haven’t started making any demands?”

Cammeray shakes his head. “We’ve got a hostage negotiator on their way. There haven’t been any more shots fired, for all we know it was a warning shot, to scare them.”

Athena turns up her nose. “For all you know someone could be bleeding out in there while you’re all standing around twiddling your thumbs!” 

An hour passes since Buck first called and the negotiator arrives, a stout man with a terrible mustache but who seems to be very good at his job. Or at least, he thinks he is, Athena starts to doubt that at the two-hour mark. There has still been little movement from what she can see through the windows.

Special Agent Sully reports that the men inside are starting to make demands, willing to negotiate. Then more vehicles pull up unannounced as simultaneously all chaos breaks out inside. There’s crashing, sounds of shelves toppling, glass breaking, and gunshots. Three consecutive shots are fired and Athena decides that enough is enough and marches towards the front door, plotting vengeance with every step if they have harmed even a single hair on Evan Buckley’s head. 

She is brought to an abrupt halt by Cammeray blocking her way. “Sergeant Grant.”

“You better move out of my way Gordan or you’re gonna have another thing coming.”

“Sergeant Grant, one of them is an ex-marine. This is out of our jurisdiction now.”

“Jurisdiction my ass. Move!”

“You will be the first one in behind them.” Cammeray indicates to the NCIS unit and SWAT teams both gearing up across the parking lot. “But not a moment sooner.”

This seems like overkill for a grocery store and patience is not Athena’s strong suit—she is well aware—but the wait becomes torturous as a fourth and final shot echoes from the building right as SWAT breaches the doors, front and back.

True to his word, Cammeray lets Athena through as soon as the two men are led out in handcuffs by two NCIS special agents. Inside the store is a mess. The shelves have been ransacked and the till is hanging from the bench by its wires. Athena however is more focused on scanning the array of people who were previously being held hostage but are now being checked over by the paramedics from Station 26. 

Finally, she spots Buck and some of the pressure in her chest eases when she sees him shuffling to his knees as the paramedic who was checking him over moves on to another patient. 

It only takes her a moment to cross the store and crouch in front of him, her hands instantly coming up to cup his cheeks. “Athena?”

“Hey, Baby. Yeah, I’m here.” Buck sighs and falls into Athena’s side. She wraps her arm around his shoulders and runs the fingers of her free hand over his hair. “How come any time there’s trouble, you always find yourself in the middle of it?”

“Special talent?” Buck mumbles and she chuckles as she rubs her hand up and down his arm.

“Okay, let me look at you.” She holds him away from her and brings her fingers to his face.

“The paramedic already cleared me, ‘Thena.”

She tuts at him and turns his face from side to side. There’s a scrape up one side of his face and a nasty welt around his right eye. “Let me fuss for a moment, please. I was worried about you, and for good reason, it seems. Did one of them punch you?”

“Yeah.”

Athena levels him with a flat look and Buck sighs dramatically. “He had a gun, Athena. And he kept waving it at this lady and her baby, and I just–.” Buck motions with his arm and Athena resists the urge to cuff him around the head. 

“Just what? Tackled him?”

Buck glances away and won't meet her eyes.

“Oh, you are so glad your boyfriend isn’t here right now.”

“Please don’t tell Eddie,” Buck begs, spinning back to turn wide pleading eyes on her.

Eddie is out of town visiting his parents in El Paso for the weekend, Buck was supposed to be there with him but following one of that other A shift crew breaking their collar bone on a golf trip, Bobby had to regretfully ask Buck to stay behind. Athena knows full well that Eddie would have Buck’s head on a pike for putting himself in danger again, especially while Eddie wasn’t there to protect him. 

“You know your boy will find out one way or another.”

Buck sighs and leans heavily into the side of the ambulance door. “I know, just, not tonight. Please?”

“Okay,” Athena relents and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. “But you are coming home with me tonight.”

“Athena–!”

“Nope, no excuses. The guest room is yours and I’m not letting you out of my sight until the sun comes up again.”

Bobby is waiting at the front door when they arrive at the Nash-Grant house and as soon as Buck is within three feet of him Bobby grabs the boy by his shoulders and holds him firmly in place as he looks him over much the same way Athena did. 

After dinner, Buck finds Athena on her favorite lounge chair in the back yard and he perches on the edge of the one next to her. 

“Hey, Athena.” He starts quietly, looking down at his hands. “Thank you, for coming today, I mean.”

Athena sits up smoothly and reaches out to cup Buck’s cheek, forcing him to look up at him as she smooths her thumb back and forth against the apple of his cheek. “Buckaroo, you are my boy. I will always come when you call me. Always.”

Buck's eyes instantly turn glassy and Athena rises from her seat to kiss his forehead before departing for the night. “Get some sleep, Baby. There’s a toothbrush for you in the bathroom drawer.”

Buck gets a third round of being fussed over when Eddie flies back into Los Angeles the next afternoon—a day earlier than he was meant to be back—but word travels fast and Eddie changed his flights as soon as he heard what had happened. Athena watches from the kitchen table as Eddie winds his arms tightly around Buck and pulls him close to his chest, dropping a kiss on his forehead and to the bruise forming over his right eye. 

“I am never leaving you unsupervised ever again.” Eddie says firmly and Buck rolls his eyes but lets Eddie continue to fret over him and Athena can see the pleasing blush that creeps up his neck at the attention.

[lachimolala22019]

Heart full of love

Chapter 2

After losing a beloved person to a war of greed and money.

She never thought a business trip to a small village would lead her to her fate.

She never thought the heart that was once empty will be filled with so much love and adoration for these seven men who she would do anything for.

They were her family and she will burn anyone who dares to harm them.

For first time after the incident her heart was full of love.

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS X Hybrid!reader

Genre:poly, hybrid, mates

Warning: mention of blood, guns, gunshot, murder, dead bodies, reader is injured, traps, hunter, crying, deaths.

Masterlist

Looking at the sky covered in dark clouds I thought of nothing and decided to close my eyes and fall back on the ground below me trying to relax.

The peaceful atmosphere was broken because of a scream followed by a loud bang. I got up in fright my ears on alert and eyes searching for any danger nearby. I was sure the loud bang was the sound of the guns of hunters. What were they doing here? Hunters usually don’t attack facilities, but I was sure the gun was fired by them.

The sound of gunshots could be heard outside with the screams of hybrids. I went toward a window to see what was going on inside. The scene that was in front of my eyes made my stomach turn in disgust. The marble of the facility which was once white now had blood on it and there were bodies of now-dead hybrids on the floor.

I saw a hunter dragging James in the corridor with his hair, James was hitting the hand of the hunter trying to free himself. The hunter threw him on the floor and pull out his gun without thinking he shot him in the head. I let out a gasp from the shock and ducked down trying to hide my back facing the wall the window being just above me. I put a hand on my mouth not wanting to let out any sound.

My heartbeat was going wild because of fear, I heard footsteps behind me coming closer and look up just as the hunter reached the window and saw me. The hunter jumped out of the window as I made a run toward the exit with all my power. Running out of the iron door of the facility I looked back to see the hunter aim at me, but as he was about to shoot he got tackled by Nate who shouted for me to run away. The hunter missed his shot, I looked forward and ran into the forest surrounding the facility not looking back again.

My eyes were getting blurry because of the tears but I kept running deeper into the dark forest. The broken branches made cuts on my feet making me wince due to the pain, breathing heavily my speed was gradually decreasing. There were no footsteps behind me anymore, just as I thought I was away from the danger I felt something sharp pierce my feet making me fall.

As soon as I fell I was pulled up with a force. I realized that I was caught in a net, and now there was no chance of my survival. I kept trying to break free, but it was of no use I finally gave up with a cry of pain and closed my eyes as tears continuously falls from them. Blood was trickling down my feet and onto the ground below. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I finally heard footsteps followed by a voice.

“Looks like we caught something,” an unknown voice said.

“I am surprised it made it this far without getting shot. what is it through Henry ?” Another man said.

“A cat hybrid, not so rare it is useless for us.” the guy I suppose his name was Henry said.

I opened my eyes to see him take out a gun and point it at me, he finally pulled the trigger.

BANG

I jolted up from my sleep with heavy breathing and a dry throat, my clothes were sticking to my clothes because of the sweat. I have had the nightmare about that day for over 20 years. I don’t remember much about my childhood other than that day, the nightmare always felt so real. The shouts of pain and the sound of guns always echo in my brain.

There was no way of me sleeping again after that so I decided to get up. Taking the glass from the bedside table I filled it with water and drank it. My heartbeat was still uneven, after putting the glass back down I looked at the clock, it was 5 in the morning.

Letting out a sigh I went to the bathroom to start my day. Getting rid of my sweaty clothes I got in the shower. The cold water hit my face helping me relax. After taking my shower and putting on my clothes for the day ahead. I wore a simple white shirt with black office pants, pairing them up with a simple necklace and a ring.

Walking in the kitchen I picked up an apple and left the house with my bag containing all my important stuff in it.

I got in my car and took out my phone messaging my assistant that I will be leaving for the trip a little earlier than planned and not to wait for me. Putting my phone back in my purse I started the car ready for the long journey ahead.

It was an unlucky day for me, after three long hours of the journey my car stopped 30 mins away from the destination because of a flat tire. No cars were passing on the road. I hit my hand on the steering wheel out of anger and went out of the car with my bag. There was no spare tire in the trunk so I had no choice but to call my assistant if there was any signal here. But to my bad luck, there were none

I let out a frustrated cry and looked here and there for any place to stop to ask for help. I walked a bit further away from my car and after 10min I finally saw a run-down building. Suddenly the picture of the facility came to my mind but I shook my head and took a deep breath. There was a board in front of the building which had a hybrid adoption centre written on it.

There was a strange feeling in my heart that was telling me to go inside the building. I didn’t even realise when I took steps forward and went inside the building there was no one on the counter. I looked around me, the inside of the building was a bit cleaner than I outside. The smell of different hybrids made my nose burn and my head hurt.

I heard footsteps running towards me but before I could see who it was the person hold my hand in a bruising grip and rudely pulled me toward him with force. I let out a wince at the rough treatment and looked up.

Next

Taglist

@fluffy-canada-pancakes @mageprincess7 @queen-in-the-shadows @ddaeng-angmoh @missseoulite @sugarrush-blush @demarie04 @singukieee @i-have-no-life-charlie

[heeseung-min]

A dark jungwon yandere pplzzzxx , i Begg youu

It can br the bully or Mafia anything but plzzz ☹️☹️

I decided to make him a mafia because why not🤨

[18:47]

Hmm....

The smell of pastries went inside your nose made you felt like in heaven. It's the usual thing you do in every morning as a worker at bakery. It's been a year since you started working here. The owner was an old woman and she is so kind to you and always gives you a bonus in every salary.

"Y/n, don't forget to eat breakfast, okay? I already made croissant and a cup of cappucino for you."

"Auntie, you don't need to."

"You deserve the best. Go eat and then you can start to work. I have appointment to go so take care of the shop, okay?"

She smiled at you before went out from the shop. The woman really treat you as her own daughter and you feel so grateful to meet a person like her. Every day, the bakery has many customers coming and you felt so proud and happy for it. Some of them are regular and also will bring a small gift for you.

However, this day is ruined when you heard a very loud shout from the front door. Some people got pushed away and everyone started to scream when there were shooting happening here and there.

A person or to be exact a man tall and broad man was smirking at you when he finally saw your face from the outside.

"How are you, darling? Or should I call you, my wife?"

Some customers gasped when they heard that. You started to feel anxious and cursed in your head.

How..how the fuck he can be at here?

How the hell Yang Jungwon found you here when you already make sure your identity changed to a new one.

"I'm- I'm sorry but who are you?"

"Cut the bullshit, baby. I'm not stupid. Do you think ran to other country and changed your identity can make me difficult to find you?"

You peeked at the customers who started to feel scared when Jungwon asked his men to stand among them.

"Come here."

"No. We were done already."

"You are still stubborn. Three years and still never change. Don't make me come there and force you."

You stood still at your place behind the counter. Some of the customers started to murmuring and some of them tried to contact police for help.

BANG! BANG!

You startled at the gun sounds. People in the bakery started screaming when two of the customers who were the one that called police got shot and some of them even mad at you for causing this. Your body was shaking badly and tears has started falling down. Jungwon sighed and went straight to you and carry you without saying much.

"I told you to not try anything, y/n. You should know you could never run away from me."

Your legs lost its stablity and you fell down to the floor. You started sobbing and those who saw it only can felt sympathy to you.

"Take her.

------

It's been a week since you back with Jungwon. He made you stayed at a mansion that is far from city. There's no any connection and he didn't provide you a phone because he knew what will you do if you have one. Your legs also got chained to the bed so you can't move anywhere.

"I need to go out for a while for a meeting. Don't you dare to run."

"It's not like I can move."

"Good. If you want to go pee or bath, just ask the maid to bring you."

You let him kissed you before he went out from the room. You didn't do anything but just sit and stare at space. The maid also didn't disturb you and just leave your food beside you. You took a quick look when you found something small and shiny fell from their pocket and they didn't realise about it.

You noticed it was the key for the chain and you waited until they went out before taking it. You winced a bit when you tried to move your legs after days got chained.

Now, you need to run.

------

------

"You really like to taste my patience, aren't you?"

Jungwon said as he walked slowly to your body who was strapped to bed. Your mouth got muffled and tears falling down to your cheeks and neck.

Right before you can run far from the mansion, Jungwon already caught you because it such a coincidence you met him when he was on a way to home.

"Killing your family and friends is not enough to teach you, huh?"

He stared at you for a minute before brought a monitor that shows very familar face on it to you.

It was your boss who was sleeping with a man beside her holding a gun towards her head.

"Isn't the old woman is your boss? Who treat you really good like you are her own daughter. I can make her life gone only for a second, baby."

You started to scream and kicking air when you saw it. You were begging Jungwon to take out the cloth inside your mouth. The guy only smirked while doing it.

"Please! Please not her! Please don't kill her. I'm really sorry. Please Jungwon."

"But you are still stubborn. I need to teach you something."

"I- I will not! I'm really sorry. Please no. I will not run away again. I'm sorry!!"

"Bring the chainsaw."

"What?"

You were confused at his sudden instruction. You started to scream histerically when the chainsaw machine put close on top of your legs.

"I don't want you to run again so we should get rid of these legs, right?"

"NO NO JUNGWON PLEASE NO! I DON'T WANT THIS PLEASE!!!"

"Just close your eyes, baby. This will hurt a little bit."

Your scream was the only thing that can be heard in the room before you lost conscious.

______

______

"Did you really cut her legs, Won?"

"Of course no. I stopped the machine when she passed out. The blade made small cut but nothing serious."

"You should be gentle."

"She's too stubborn so we need something to make sure she will listen."

He stared at you who were sleeping soundly with IV drip at your hand. The doctor said your body lacked of water and foods so he put the IV inside you.

"I will miss her working here. She is such a great worker."

"Don't worry grandma, I will help you find a new one. Also, you are already rich and old. No need to work."

"You brat! Let me do what I want. Take care of the y/n, okay?"

"Will do, goodbye."

Yes, the old woman aka your boss was Jungwon's grandmother. That's why she treated you with care and always make sure you are in healthy condition.

And that's also why Yang Jungwon can easily find you.

"Mine."

------

tbh, idk if this was dark for you🥲✋️ im sorry if this doesnt meet your expectation but i hope you enjoy it.

taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount

[divinegrey]

hcs with the val ladies of your choice for some comfort 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 any type of comfort pls

also hope you're doing lovely <33

-diamond anon

i like you so much that i diverged from headcanons to ficlets. hope that's okay! i was feeling the need to comfort the agents, so that's what i went with!

BLEEDING RADIANCE | FADE, REYNA, SAGE W/ F!READER

words: 2300 warnings: depictions of radiance overload, hurt/comfort

FADE

Your whistle softens as you approach the door to Fade’s room. Rapping your knuckles twice against the metal, you shift your weight onto your back leg, hands going to your hips to wait. It’s not terribly early in the morning, and Fade is usually awake around this time. 

Which is strange, because she’s talking an awfully long time to respond. With your face pinching into a frown, you jiggle the doorknob, pushing the lever up and down. Nothing in response, and you’re about to shout her name through the metal when you notice just the barest hint of… echoes?

Your ears catch the trail end of a whisper; you shoot your eyes downward to the slit between the floor and the door, eyes widening at the reddish gray tendrils reaching through. One of them caresses the rubber of your sole, as if beckoning you into the room. 

“Oh, shit.” 

You’ve never been more thankful Fade slipped the override code to her door to you late one night. 

Punching in the keys, you wait with a furiously pounding heart until the lock clicks and you can finally push the handle down. The door swings open and you’re thrust into a dim room, only a single lamp on, but even that bulb has tendrils stretching over it. 

Curled up on the floor near the wall is none other than Fade herself, her hands clutched behind her head and her entire body folded in on itself. The organ thumping inside your chest twists up at the sight of it, of the pure agony that Fade is gritting her teeth against. 

You close the door, watching seemingly as the shadows bleed out of Fade’s hands and neck, the parts of her skin that are exposed rapidly shifting like ink moving over her body. Moving on instinct leads to sliding onto the floor beside her, gathering her up in your arms until you’re sitting against the wall with the bounty hunter in your lap. 

“You’re fine, you’re okay, I’m right here,” you say, hoping your words slice through the ever overlapping echoes and whispers that seem to curdle from the shadows themself. You see just a hint of Fade’s face— the shadows pour red and black trails from her eyes, the very same ones you see her summon on the battlefield against her enemies. 

Even she can’t escape the Nightmare. 

One of her hands reaches for yours, and you curl your fingers around hers. They’re shaking, practically vibrating in your grip, but you bring her fingers to your lips and utter comforting words. You’ve heard of how her radiance bleeds out of her, a consequence of summoning the nightmares too often. She just came back from a mission… 

Nevermind. That’s not the point. 

You hold Fade tight, the pressure forcing her body into a normal rate of breathing. After having seen these moments before, you know what to do, and you couldn’t be more thankful for when Fade makes the first, soft sound since you came into the room. 

It’s simply hi, whispered so quietly not even the silence of the room could sink its claws into it. 

“Hey,” your reply is gentle. Rubbing soothing circles on her back, you smile. “You back with us?” 

Jerkily, Fade nods her head. You spread your legs, giving her more control over where she sits as she comes to. Her hand drops back to hold herself up, and you see the way trickling shadows still bleed from the tear ducts of her eyes. 

Curses come out of her mouth as she leans forward. You let her think, and she turns to you, her hand still covering her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you say instantly. “Did I help?” 

Fade nods simply. 

“Then I’m glad I was here. I’ve got your six, whether we have guns in our hands or not.” Giving her another rub on the shoulder, Fade reaches her hand and curls her palm over yours. Only then do you see the grateful smile on her face, followed by the resolute inhale. Leaning forward, you cup the back of Fade’s head and press a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you.” 

Her head curls into your neck, her fingers gripping your shirt. “Thank you.” 

You grin. “Anytime.” 

REYNA

You know Reyna is burning out when the tattoos along her arm are steaming. Yet, you do not say a word, because the look of concentration on the Empress’s face is more terrifying than anything else. Instead, you keep an eye on her as the training session within the Danger Room prolongs. 

It’s a standard, run of the mill training regimen, meant to be aggressive to keep the instincts of the agent sharpened, but Reyna is losing her focus, and you have a pretty succinct reason to suspect why this is happening. 

Small trails of steam curl off the searing neon pink glow of her tattoo as Reyna summons another leer to blind the enemy dummies before shooting them all down with a horrifyingly accurate precision. 

But when she goes for another leer summoning, her arm cramps up, her wrist pulling down. Reyna’s face pinches up, the slightest expression of pain coming onto her features as she pulls her arm into herself. Before you can even attempt to shut anything down, Reyna tries once more, and this proves to be a fatal error on her part. 

Pink light lashes up her arms, fracturing away from her tattoos and into her skin like the veins of her blood rushing through her body. It continues all the way up to her neck, to her face, where her once luminescent pink irises have now turned into a full-bodied glow, the same way her eyes are when Reyna is knee deep into her Empress mode. 

The determination burns in her body like a wild-fire. She stumbles, but still, she raises her gun to shoot more dummies that spawn from the projectors with only one hand, bodying the full weight of the recoil from the Vandal. The tips of her fingers grow translucent, a wave of pinkish light cascading through her body in undulations, like she’s trying to go invisible but can’t bring herself to do it fully. The only way you know she isn’t doing it herself is the way her entire face is screaming in pain. 

Enough is enough. 

You slam the button to turn off the Danger Room’s current protocol, prompting the simulation to fade away in an instant. You step out of the control room and walk over, just in time for Reyna to drop the gun and for her to stumble into you. 

“I’ve got you,” you say, an etching of surprise in your words because Reyna’s skin feels closer to fire than anything else. With her weight completely on yours, you lower her to the ground and into your lap. “I’ve got you.” 

You’ve never seen the Empress struggle like this before. Her Radiance bleeding through completely, moving over her body in ways. Her tattoos are bright, as are her eyes, but her body is trying to enshrine itself in translucent darkness. Trying to being the key words here. You rack your brain for any possible solutions, and you can only come up with one. 

You know she’s got a pair of sharp teeth in there. 

“Take it,” you say, holding out your forearm to her. “I know you need to, just take as much as you need.” 

Reyna’s eyes flicker to yours (or do they? It’s hard to tell). “Can’t— I’ll take—” her nails dig into your skin. “Too much.” 

“I know how to stop you if you do, just please take it.” 

That’s seemingly all the permission she needs. 

Her other hand grips your forearm, nails breaking the skin with ease. You hiss at the puncturing, at the blood that starts to leak. Reyna inhales, fumes rising from your skin and rushing into her nostrils. Parts of your soul, you realize, as you feel a faint fogginess build in the distance. Yet, your focus is solely on the woman in your lap, as she feeds from you. 

Her body materializes slowly, the shimmering bits fading away. The light flaring in her veins recedes, and the tattoos radiant glow calms into their natural resting state of black. Finally, her eyes return to normal, as normal as a glowing pink iris could be. 

And still, she feeds. 

Knowing when enough is enough, you push her head back with your other hand, breaking the tethering enough to pull your other arm free. Adjusting her so that she’s laying on her back, you hover over her with a smile. 

“Someone needed to eat,” you remark, prompting Reyna to snort. 

She stares at the ceiling for a few moments, and you simply rest your hand over her heart, feeling the organ pound away. After some time, Reyna looks at you. 

“Thank you, cariño,” she says. “I see now I should’ve taken more time to rest after my mission yesterday.” 

“Maybe. But you’re forgiven. As long as you come with me to the break room to grab some food,” you say, holding out your pinky finger. Reyna glances at it, and though you see the way she almost calls you childish for it, she locks her pinky with yours. You grin. “Good. Now come on.” 

SAGE

The infirmary feels far more cold than you’re used to it being. It’s a space always kept warm, but not sweltering, especially during the colder months of the year where some of the agents can be more temperature prone (like poor Neon, so used to the weather of the Philippines, compared to Sova, who goes on runs in shorts in the winter without breaking a sweat). 

So you’re a little concerned when you see some frost on the ground where frost shouldn’t be. 

“Sage?” You glance around the space, and when you don’t see her, you step over the frost and further into the infirmary. It’s an L-shaped space; when you turn the bend, you see the healer sitting on one of the beds, her back turned to you. You exhale. “There you are. Must’ve not heard me when I come in. There’s a bunch of ice on the ground, I think the AC unit is— oh.” 

Upon coming closer, you realize why Sage hadn’t moved. 

Her arms rest in her lap, bent at the elbow, and iced over with a teal sheen. You can hardly see the movement of her breathing, her eyes unfocused. You frown; you’ve seen this before, but never to this scale, where the ice is crawling down her forearms and up to her elbows. Sage’s radiance is overflowing, too much of it happening all at once. 

Moving quickly, you turn up the heating in the room before gathering some blankets from a cupboard. Returning to Sage, you wrap a blanket around her shoulders. Her skin is icy to the touch, and when you cup her face, it takes a moment for her to register your presence. 

“There you are,” you whisper softly when Sage’s deep brown eyes find yours. “I’m right here. Let’s get you warmed up and get this ice off your hands.” 

You sit down beside her on the bed, moving one of her hands into your lap. Examining it, you see that the ice from her radiant abilities has created a later over her hands. She must’ve been overworking herself, healing too much. Sage is the go-to person on base for when someone is hurt, but even she crumbles. 

Pressing on her forearm, you crack the ice. It’s thick, but not nearly impenetrable. It flakes off with the pressure and it falls to the ground. You rub circles on her forearms, hoping to bring sensation back to her skin as you work up to her fingers. 

As you do, Sage leans her head onto your shoulder. You turn and kiss her forehead.

“I’m right here. You’ll be okay,” you say, pulling her thumb to crack the ice at the base. You pull it off before working the rest of the way around her palm. Little by little, you chip away until her arm is freed. You wrap it up in the blanket before working on the next one, starting the same process over again until, at long last, both of her arms are freed from her own ice. 

You bundle her up in thick blankets until nothing but Sage’s head is exposed. The color has returned to her cheeks and you stroke her hair gently. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask. Sage takes a long inhale. 

“Better. Thank you,” Sage answers, pulling the blankets tighter. “I always do seem to forget how uncomfortable it is to experience that.” 

“Radiance burnout is no joke. I’m glad I was here to stop it before it got worse,” you reply, recalling the time you’d seen Sage’s entire body freeze over. That wasn’t a pleasant experience, and it isn’t one you wish to relive anytime soon. You lean down and kiss her cheek. “Please call me or one of the others if you feel close to burnout again. There are so many of us here to help you.” 

Sage, a woman with so much responsibility on her shoulders, doesn’t seem keen on the idea. Yet, she nods in agreement anyway. And frankly, given her stubbornness, it’s all you can ask for. You shift on the bed, snuggling her to provide warmth for as long as she needs. 

The world can wait. 

~~~~~ A/N: to knockout anon, i'm sorry this took a while! life got in the way, but i hope you like this <3

[tokuvivor]

May I please request “alright, who am i beating up?” for Donald & LP?

You certainly may! Alright, let’s do it.

I give you…

Splitting Time

Originated from this post.

Donald couldn’t sleep.

It was unseasonably hot for this time of year. Heck, it was September; it was supposed to feel more like fall by this point!

He glanced at the clock. 4:30.

“Well,” he figured, “I went to bed fairly early last night. Might as well get up now. As they say, early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” He chuckled, remembering the first time he ever tried to turn in early. It ended with his alarm clock (the old-fashioned kind) broken, his mattress destroyed, and Donald himself somehow ending up looking like a snake charmer.

He made himself some coffee, and then went outside to enjoy it. After a couple sips, he heard a loud noise coming from inside the mansion.

“What the heck was that?” he shouted. He out down his coffee, and picked up an oar, ready to attack whoever might be intruding in the mansion at this hour.

The noise got louder as he approached the mansion. “Alright, you son of a gun!” he shouted. “Come get a taste of my oar!”

Except it wasn’t an intruder. It turns out that Donald wasn’t the only one in the house that decided to get an early start.

“Launchpad?”

The pilot looked up from his cereal. “Oh. Hey, Mr. D.”

“What the heck are you doing up so early?” questioned the sailor.

“Night patrol with DW,” replied Launchpad. “Then gotta bring Mr. McD to a big meeting at the Bin later today.”

“Wow,” chuckled Donald. “Anyway, why don’t we take this outside? Everyone else is probably still asleep.”

“Sure,” Launchpad answered. “Do you want anything?”

Then Donald realized he had left his coffee on the houseboat. “Oh, phooey, I forgot my coffee,” he grumbled. “I’ll get myself some OJ, I guess.”

After Donald poured himself a glass of juice, he and Launchpad made their way out onto the patio, sitting on the edge of it.

“Not too bad, I guess,” commented Launchpad. “Certainly compared to in there.”

Donald nodded in agreement. There was at least a light breeze rolling by in the pitch black of the early morning.

There were several moments of silence. Then Launchpad spoke. “Hey, Mr. D?”

Donald turned towards Launchpad. “Mmm?”

“Am I a good pilot?”

Donald was shocked by the question. “I mean, you’re a bit unorthodox, but I would say yes, you are. Why?”

Launchpad sighed.

“Did anyone say that you weren’t? Alright, who am I beating up?”

“Whoa, whoa! Mr. D,” exclaimed Launchpad, holding his arm out in front of the smaller man. “No one has. It’s not like that. I guess it’s just that sometimes, I doubt myself.”

Donald looked at Launchpad curiously and intently. “And why do you doubt yourself?”

“I mean, look at me,” Launchpad commented. “I crash.”

“Well, yes,” Donald responded. “But you know how to do it right. I, along with the rest of the family, sorta expect it from you by this point.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve got a point there,” admitted Launchpad. “But beyond that, like, since your sister came back, we’ve kinda split duties on the Sunchaser. But she’s way better than me at this whole piloting thing. And I feel like Mr. McD prefers her to me. And ever since I started doing Darkwing and Pilot stuff in St. Canard, well, I haven’t been needed as much here, anyway. It feels like I’m looking over my shoulder.”

“Look, buddy,” began Donald, putting his hand on the pilot’s arm, “just because you have more responsibilities to attend to, it does not mean you’re any less important here. With Uncle Scrooge’s elevated push to find the Missing Mysteries, he needs all the help he can get. And as for whether he favors Della over you, that’s baloney. He appreciates both of you as his pilots. And Della is not perfect as a pilot, herself. She would likely be the first to tell you that. As long as you both get people where they’re going, as long as you get back up, dust yourselves off, that’s all that matters at the end of the day.”

Launchpad nodded.

“And hey,” continued Donald, “we understand that Drake and Gosalyn need you more now, too. You don’t have to keep rushing back and forth between Duckburg and St. Canard. You can absolutely find a way to be both Darkwing Duck’s sidekick and Scrooge McDuck’s pilot.”

Launchpad continued nodding, taking a gradual sip of juice. “What would that mean?” he wondered.

“Well, for one,” explained Donald, “you could try staying over at Drake’s apartment more often, instead of wearing yourself out getting back here. If you’re not in the best shape to get Uncle Scrooge to that meeting later today, Della could always do it. How about you sleep on it, and figure it out when you wake up?”

“Alright. I will,” Launchpad replied. “Thanks, Mr. D.”

“You’re welcome, Launchpad. Have a good sleep.”

The two put their dishes in the sink, and then Launchpad headed off to the garage to sleep off his patrol.

Donald headed back outside, returning to the houseboat to get back to his coffee. Sure, it was probably cold by now, but he didn’t care. It was worth it being able to help his friend out with his present situation.

[waywardxrhea]

Chapter 1 - Heart of Stone

What happens when you lie to the Devil? How long can one woman keep a lifetime of secrets from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? The answer may surprise you...

installment list

pairing: Matt Murdock x enhanced!fem!OC

series content: coffee shop AU, fluff, humor, friends to lovers, pining, language, canon typical violence, use of guns, angst, drinking, implied smut, medical emergencies, mental health disorders (PTSD, panic disorder).

"you can build me up, you can tear me down, you can try but i'm unbreakable. you can do your best, but i'll stand the test, you'll find that i'm unshakable. when the fire's burnt, when the wind has blown, when the water's dry you'll still find stone. my heart of stone" - heart of stone, six the musical

word count: 3.9k

A series of unfortunate events leads Julianne Porter to uproot her entire life in London.

Standing at the back of the crowded church, Julianne Porter wiped away a tear that slipped from her eye despite her best efforts to keep them at bay. As she saw her father’s watchful eyes turning in her direction, she darted back behind the pillar so he didn’t see her because that would have meant certain punishment for daring to step foot into the church hosting his wife’s funeral. She was her mother too, but considering he blamed her for his wife’s untimely death in the first place, Julianne was unceremoniously barred from attending the event.

She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t try to attend though, so she took what she could, sneaking in through the doors right as her mother’s favorite song was playing loudly through the speakers. Eileene was always a lively person and she had always made it clear to her husband Dean that when her time came, she wanted the funeral to be a joyous occasion celebrating her life, love, and career. Despite that wish though, Julianne wore all black because in the end, after what her father said to her that night, she felt she was to blame.

Giggling like a lovestruck teenager, Julianne kissed her boyfriend one last time before they came to a stop at the gate outside of the Porter family manor. “Tonight was amazing,” he told her between the last few kisses of the night.

“Thank you for taking me out, I really needed it,” she replied with a smile, wrapping her arms around his strong form, adding, “I wish it didn’t have to end.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to… Come back to my place tonight, I’ll make it worth your while,” he told her with a sly wink.

She giggled once more before shaking her head and telling him, “I can’t, you know how it is around here. I…I really shouldn’t have even gone out tonight so last minute. If my father finds out I’ve been with you, he’ll kill me…”

“One day I’m gonna make that man like me, just you wait, darlin’,” he told her confidently.

“In your dreams, that man is-“ she started to say.

Julianne’s sentence was cut off though as she heard a scream coming from within the manor. Her eyes went wide as she pushed Kit away, telling him, “Shit, I have to go. I…I’ll call you later!”

Without a second glance back toward Kit’s shocked form, Julianne was off, racing up the drive of the manor with shaking hands, hoping for the best but expecting the worst upon hearing such an ear-splitting scream. When she got inside though, her worst fears came to fruition as she saw her mother being held at gunpoint. Upon seeing the fear in her mother’s eyes, Julianne put her hands up and said calmly, “Let’s not lose our heads now, let’s talk this out, I’m sure there’s some sort of agreement we can come to here.”

“We aren’t here to bargain princess. Grab her!” the man holding her mother snapped.

“I guess we’re doing it my way then aren’t we?” she asked before forcefully stomping on the ground, sending some of the granite flooring into the air, followed quickly by a punch to send the stone directly at the man holding her mother hostage.

“Don’t let her use her powers you blitherin’ idiots!” the man shouted.

Julianne could see two men coming at her from behind in a mirror across from her and launched an attack on them as well, causing the tile at their feet to suddenly sink into the ground, effectively trapping them in place. In her distraction of making sure that the men’s feet were thoroughly stuck, a third man came up behind her and picked her up off the ground like a daisy. 

“Let go of me! I’ll-!” she tried to shout as she struggled in the man’s strong arms.

Everything in the next few seconds happened so quickly that she didn’t even have time to think before she saw her mother’s brains being shot out of the side of her head by her captor. And Julianne? Well she was screaming bloody murder as the men ran from the house jeering at her all the while.

“What the bloody hell is going on out here, I was in the middle of a conference with a very important client about-“ came Dean Porter’s voice as he stalked into the room flanked by two men from his security detail. He stopped cold though as he saw Julianne weeping over her mother’s body, the pool of blood surrounding them growing steadily. “Ridge, Oliver, find the men who did this. I want them dead. I’ll deal with the brat…” 

A third man emerged from the room holding a binder to his chest, asking, “Dad, what-?” He too stopped cold as he saw his twin sister weeping over their mother’s body, his mouth agape and eyes wide. 

The memory was abruptly interrupted by Julianne’s phone buzzing in her trouser pocket. She sneakily ducked out of the church before answering quietly, “Hey love, everything all right?”

“Smashing,” came Kit’s bright voice from the other line. “Look, I’m really sorry you couldn’t give your mum a proper goodbye… If you want, meet me at our usual spot for some cheering up. I’ll bring your favorite.”

“You’re the best, thank you,” Julianne whispered, her voice breaking with emotion at his kindness. “I’ll see you in ten, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he replied with the slightest crack in his voice at the end. Kit had met Eileen a few weeks ago for the first time and they hit it off instantly, and even though Dean hadn’t approved of Julianne dating, Eileen was happy to see her little girl happy. So, when Julianne told Kit about witnessing her murder, he had been a bit of an emotional mess too. Ever since that night, he had been especially gentle with Julianne and her emotional state, meeting with her in their secret spot just outside of the manor every night and bringing her chocolates or champagne to help her feel better. And while the gifts did bring her joy, merely being in his warm embrace and hearing his reassuring words brought her more comfort than any tangible object could.

The walk to the manor was breezy, the chilled autumn air cutting right through Julianne’s scarf and coat. She hugged her arms close to her body as she approached the little alcove she always met Kit in, calling out quietly, “Kit, it’s Julie, you here?”

Her eyebrows knit together when she didn’t get a response and instead heard a quiet thud on the ground, one that sounded almost…wet? She peered around the corner and for the second time in as many weeks, Julianne was weeping over the body of a loved one. Her limbs went numb, and she felt lightheaded as she surveyed Kit’s battered body bleeding out onto the concrete around him.

As Julianne fell to her knees with a sob, her heart kicked into high gear, racing irregularly in her chest as black threatened to engulf her vision. The darkness started to take over as she fell to the ground, the last thing she saw before passing out was the note nailed to Kit’s chest that read, “This is on you, Julianne.”

“Is someone over here?” James asked as he and Oliver made their way into the area a few minutes later. “I thought you said you heard something,” James snapped as they walked. 

“I did, I swear it,” Oliver replied, turning the corner into the little alcove. He stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the sight in front of him: a bloodied Kit Wilson and Julianne unmoving near him. “Holy shit, James, I-”

“Shit, check on Julie, I’ll call Dad, see what he wants to do,” James said, reaching for his cell in his coat pocket. 

James heard Oliver sigh in relief after a few moments, saying, “She’s alive. Heart rate is through the roof though.”

“It’s that stupid heart condition. She’ll come to soon,” James replied as he listened to his father’s instructions over the phone, turning his back to the scene as a sly smirk twisted its way onto his face. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? There’s always time to back out,” said JD,  a friend of Julianne’s since uni. 

“Yes JD, I’m sure, I’ve been planning this for a month. I…I can’t be here anymore,” she replied quietly as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Remember your promise back when I first found out what you do?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” he said with an exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying, this is a big decision, and you haven’t exactly been in the best mindset since…”

“Since my mother and boyfriend were killed because of me?” she asked haughtily.

“I wouldn’t exactly put it like that…” he replied hesitantly.

“Just give me the IDs and passports JD,” she told him.

“Not until you tell me your plan to get out of the country,” he said defiantly.

“How I’m getting out of here doesn’t matter, just know that I’ll manage,” she responded.

“And that’s exactly why I’m worried, Jules. In my line of work when someone says something along those lines it means they’re about to do something either illegal or borderline suicidal. So, which is it?” he asked seriously, holding the documents closely to his body while Julianne impatiently held out her hand.

“Let’s just say that the O’Hare syndicate is about to get a pretty paycheck thanks to me,” she told him while gesturing for JD to hand over the documents.

JD made a choking noise as his eyes went wide. His eyebrows shot up as he asked, “The O’Hare syndicate? As in your father’s most powerful rival? Are you mad?!”

“Quite apparently,” she replied shortly as she snatched the documents from his loosened grip. “If my father wants to play dirty I will too. It’s only fair, innit?”

“Well while we’re on the subject, what the bloody hell is he going to say or do to me and my family when he finds out I helped you? This isn’t just about you anymore!” JD said, a bite of anger in his voice as he glared at Julianne. 

“Trust me, I’ve thought this all out. I can get you and your family out of the country too. Get a new start and get the kids away from…stuff like this,” she said, shaking her head when she ended her sentence. “All you have to do is say the word.”

“And what if your little plan doesn’t work? What if the O’Hares don’t follow through?”

“Then that means I’ll be dead and you won’t have to worry about my father blaming you for helping me. Pack what you need and only what you need. When they agree to my terms, the O’Hares will deal with the rest,” she said as she turned her back and began heading for the door.

“You seem awfully confident this is going to work,” JD called, a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“Just trust me, will you? Be ready to go come week’s end. If all goes to plan this is the last time you’ll be seeing me. Take care old chap,” she said as she pulled her hood over her head and ducked out into the gloomy London night. 

After a ride on the tube and a few minutes walk, Julianne found herself walking into a crowded pub full of Irishmen, armed to the teeth. “Oi, where can I find Sheamus around here?” she shouted, which prompted about a dozen guns and even more blades to be pointed in her direction. 

“That’s that Porter gal innit?” one man asked aloud to his buddies. 

“Why I oughta-” another growled, cocking his gun and aiming it at her forehead. 

Julianne put her hands in the air and said, “Oh calm down, I’m here to cut a deal and line all of your pockets. If I can talk to Sheamus.”

“Pat her down, make sure she isn’t armed,” the second man said while still training his pistol at her head. 

“You know she doesn’t have to have any weapons to fight right? Not with those freak powers of hers…” the first man told him as he advanced toward Julianne and began frisking her. 

“Well then check her for a wire you blitherin’ idiot!” he shouted.

After a more thorough than needed pat down, Julianne asked, “See? I’m unarmed and unwired. I came for a deal. That’s all.”

“You came into enemy territory, that's what you did, lass! Now if you don’t get out of me pub in five seconds, I’ll-” the irate man snarled before he was cut off by a handsomely dressed man entering from behind the bar.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Do my eyes deceive me, or is little miss Julianne Porter standing in the middle of my pub?” Sheamus O’Hare asked, throwing a pointed glare at the man with his gun trained on Julianne. 

“The one and only,” Julianne told him with a small smile. 

“Well Miss Porter, I’m not usually one to make deals with me rival’s daughter, especially one whose gotten some of me men caught due to their inability to run from the cops after you…dealt with them. So tell me why you’re here before this place lights up.”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not discuss intricacies in front of so many men, especially ones with guns pointed at me,” she told him, taking a quick glance around the many guns still trained on her. 

“Give me one good reason to let you back into my office and let you walk out of here alive,” he countered. 

“The shipment that’s coming in tomorrow night for my father. The details are yours if you and your men agree to my terms,” she said, not breaking eye contact with him for even a second. 

A smirk slowly made its way onto Sheamus’s face as he gestured for the men to lower their weapons. He reached out a hand for Julianne to take as he said to her, “If that intel’s good, I think we can make the proper arrangements. Follow me.”

As she followed him back to his office, he asked, “So what made you want to turn on your old man?”

“He had my boyfriend killed. I think it’s about proper time he got what’s coming for him,” she replied as she took a seat across from him.

He ran his hand over his facial hair while contemplating the sincerity behind her words before asking, “So what’s in it for us?”

Julianne scoffed, telling him, “Only the biggest shipment this country’s ever seen. It’s coming directly from Mexico with the product hidden in clothing, ready for sale. If you take over the shipment from the seller, you’ll not only get the product, but you’ll also be making him lose money. The daft bastard’s already paid. So he’ll be out and you’ll be swimming in more money than you’ll know what to do with.”

Sheamus narrowed his eyes and asked, “What’s the catch? You seem like you’re a smart girl, there’s no way you’re just doing this to get revenge.”

“So you O’Hares are brighter than they say you are,” she told him with a wink. “But you’re right, there are a few things I want in return.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to help me fake my death and the death of JD Williams plus his family. And you need to make it look damn good because you’ll be sending photographic proof of my death to my father. Once you do those things, we’ll all be out of the country and the slate will be wiped clean. You get a seller, I get revenge and to safety, my father loses. It’s a win-win for the both of us. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?” When she finished her side of the bargain, she crossed her legs as she waited for his response. 

“So you’re telling me that you’ll give me the information on these shipments in trade for faking some deaths?” Sheamus asked as a wide smile broke out onto his face. 

“That’s it. No tricks, no turning sides when your men are at the docks, just pure revenge.”

“You got a heart o’ stone on ya, don’t ya? I like the sound o’ that,” Sheamus said enthusiastically as he stood up to shake her hand. He put his arm around her waist as they exited the room, telling her, “Now let’s get some Guinness in ya and talk details with my men, yeah?”

Come the end of the week, Crystal was standing near the harbour’s entryway with her hands tucked in her pockets waiting for her father’s men to show up to be ambushed by O’Hare’s men. When a couple finally showed up, she asked them, “What the hell? You were supposed to be here a half hour ago! My father is not going to be pleased with you!”

“Sweetheart, we’ve been run ragged by your old man trying to finish selling from the last shipment, give us a break!” Donnelly snapped as he shoved past her. 

“And don’t plan on just standing here like you always do, you’re coming in with us. Since Mummy isn’t around to stop you from helping out anymore, your old man told us to have you tag along. In case things go bad. Rumor has it the Wellenelly men might be trying to get a piece of the action so he wants you nearby. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, trying to hide the sudden fear in her voice. She told O’Hare’s men that she would be waiting at the entrance… What if this messes everything up?

As she followed the two men down the dock and heard a truck pulling up nearby to pick up the shipping crate, she hoped that at least one of the men tailing her heard so they could change the plan. She waited with baited breath as she followed the two men toward the designated ship that was bobbing in the water. The man standing near the ledge looked up and said in a hostile tone, “I thought there were only supposed to be two of you.”

“There was a change in personnel,” Donnelly told the man while reaching for a pen in his pocket. 

“I was told that I can only hand off the shipment if there were two men with your description. There wasn’t no girl on the roster!” he countered. 

“Well this here girl is the boss man’s daughter, so unless you want to take this up with Mr. Porter yourself and risk a bullet in the brain, I would-” He couldn’t finish his sentence though as out of seemingly nowhere, the butt of a gun came down hard on his temple.

Instinctively, Julianne told the second man to get down and went into a fighting stance before she felt a sharp knife press to her throat. She froze on the spot, eyes wide as she began pleading for her father’s worker to help. “You so much as think about using your freak powers and I’ll slit your throat faster than you can beg for Daddy’s help,” said the man holding her hostage. 

Before he could do anything though, there were three more O’Hare men on the scene, beating the two Porter men. Right before the second passed out from his injuries, the victor spit near his unmoving body and said, “You tell Porter that his shipment is ours and so is his whore daughter!” He turned his attention to the man holding Julianne and snapped, “Take care of her and make sure Porter knows not to mess with us from here on out!”

“What do you want me to do to her?” he asked with a smugness in his voice as he pressed the blade further into her skin, drawing blood. 

“Kill her for all I care!” the first man said before turning his attention to the man on the boat. 

“This is gonna hurt,” muttered the man holding Julianne as he took a swift swing at her temple that had her vision blacking out faster than she could process what was happening. 

By the time she came to, Julianne was in what seemed like an abandoned hotel with blood smeared all over her body, clothes, and hair. The smell was horrendous and she tried not to gag as she sat up from her position on the floor. “Oh you’re awake, finally. I didn’t think you were going to come to,” came a woman’s voice from behind a camera nearby. “Go on, you can get up, we just finished taking all the photos we needed to send to your father.”

“God, what is that smell?” Julianne asked as she stood up and looked at what seemed to be a brutal crime scene. 

“Sheep’s blood. The fake shit they use for theatre wasn’t gonna cut it, so I got some real blood. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t guess I had a choice, did I?” she asked as she caught the towel the woman tossed her. 

She took a quick shower to wash off the blood and emerged feeling refreshed. As she looked at herself through the fogged up mirror, Julianne shook her head and grabbed the scissors she brought with her into the bathroom and began cutting her long hair. Once she got her hair looking neat enough resting on her shoulders, she emerged from the bathroom to meet with the woman again. 

“Nice cut, but you missed a few spots,” the woman said with a light laugh as she took the scissors from Julianne and tidied the haircut up. As she finished up, she added, “You don’t have much time before you need to get out of the country, are your arrangements ready?” 

Julianne nodded, checking her watch as she told her, “Flight’s in three hours. Red eye to the States.” She paused for a moment, telling the woman, “Thank you guys…”

“Thank you,” the woman said with a small smile on her lips. She paused for a second before saying, “Once you exit those doors, Julianne Porter will no longer exist. I hope you know what you’re doing. And when you get there, cover up that God-awful paperboy hat tattoo if you know what’s good for you.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself. My mother raised me right,” she replied as she exited the building with her sunglasses on and hood pulled over her head. 

“Miss Shaw?” came a voice as she felt a tapping on her shoulder, rousing her from her slumber. She made a noise of discontent as she stirred awake, her joints aching from sitting for so long. “Miss Shaw, we landed in New York. We’re deplaning now.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” she replied in a groggy voice as she stood up and grabbed her carry on from the overhead bin. 

As she walked out of the plane and through the airport, Julianne suddenly felt a weight lift off her shoulders at the prospect of freedom ahead of her. She would no longer be under her father’s control. She would no longer have her every move tracked. She could have a life! Friends! A normal job! And all that began to happen as she stepped out of the doors of JFK and onto the New York streets, not as Julianne Porter, but as Crystal Shaw.

next chapter

[the-sword-lesbian]

I might be playing a in pathfinder game that my friend is going to GM in like half a year. But because i have no self control I’ve already fully planned out a character and written a multipage backstory and fic about her.

So umm… enjoy?

——

Something felt not right about all of it… it was a bad idea. We should’ve just left her well alone.

“Alright, nice and easy.” Brog said as he approached the strange woman. “You’re that girl what’s on all them wanted posters ain’tcha?”

He had his scattergun leveled on her. Birdie was just coming out the bushes with her carbine off to the side. And I had my pistol pointed at her on the other side.

It was supposed to be an easy ambush, we’d heard that she’d come through a small town a few days ago and thought we’d get the drop on her. Lone woman, big price on her head, easy money. But looking at her now… I wasn’t so sure.

She let go of the pack hanging from the strap on her shoulder causing it to slide to the ground with a small thud. “Y’all b-b-best find someone else t-t-to rob,” she said with a noticeable stutter. She pulled her duster back past her hips, revealing the ornate looking pistol just to one side of her belt buckle. She didn’t look like much, just some dusty boots, worn road clothes, and a hat pulled low. Something about her eyes though gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. Those sharp green eyes.

“Ah ah ah, easy now girlie,” Brog said, pulling the hammer back on his gun. “Let’s not get any funny ideas about reachin’ for that fancy piece you got there.” He took another few steps forward. “In fact I’m gonna go ahead and take it off ya.”

“Thhhhis is the last warning you’re gonna g-g-get,” she said. Despite the stutter there was a surety in her voice. Those dangerous eyes glanced around quickly, sizing the three of us up.

Brog laughed as he neared her, “look at you, tryna act tough meanwhile yous stammerin and shakin like a leaf.”

“Thhhhat’s your first mistake,” she said. “Thinking my st-stutter has anything to do with fear.”

“S’at right?” Brog sneered. “Hands behind your back.” He took one final step towards her. She wasn’t a small person but with him being an orc he still towered over her. “And what’s my second mistake?”

She put her hands behind her as she glared up at him high enough for the sun to hit those fierce green eyes. “You’re easily dist-stracted,” she said calmly.

Brog looked down at her with annoyance, “I’ll be takin that gun now,” he said as he reached for the pistol in her holster.

He’d no sooner laid a finger on it before her whole demeanor seemed to shift from stern glaring to simple confusion. “Oh thhhhat gun,” she said brightly. I blinked for just a second and suddenly she had a second pistol drawn from behind her back, pressed up under Brog’s jaw. “I thhhought you meant this one.”

“What the-“ was all he got out before she pulled the trigger and Brog’s head snapped backwards, a mass of blood and one of his tusks went flying out.

“What the fuck!?” Shouted Birdie as she started cycling her carbine as fast as it would fire.

Unfortunately for Birdie the woman stepped past Brog’s falling body, using it as a shield to catch all of the incoming carbine bullets. His body hit the ground as Birdie’s gun clanged empty. The woman fired her pistol again and Birdie collapsed backwards into the bushes.

I raised my gun to defend myself from the terrible mistake we’d all made but as my gaze traveled from Birdie’s final resting place back to the woman I saw her already aiming at me. She fired and my hand was relieved of my gun as well as more than one finger. “Fuck!” I screamed in pain as I fell to my knees. Clutching my remaining fingers I wanted to beg for mercy but I was frozen in fear as she picked up her bag and stepped towards me.

She holstered her gun and pulled a cigar from inside her coat pocket, tucking it between her lips. The whole time she stalked towards me I silently prayed to every god I could think of to spare me. Those terrifying green eyes bore into my soul, as if I was facing judgment for all my sins here and now.

As she came to a stop before me I looked up into the face that would surely be my demise. She held up her hand and snapped her fingers together and to my sheer terror a small flicker of flame appeared on her fingertips. I truly believe that if I had been capable of doing anything other than staring in horror I might have soiled myself in that moment.

She held the small bit of fire up to the cigar and puffed on it once, twice. Closing her eyes and seeming to savor the smoke, before she shook her hand and the flame went out. She opened her eyes and stared into my soul once more before plucking the cigar from her mouth and speaking, “you shhhould get b-better friends,” she said before turning and walking past me down the road.

I watched her walk, unmoving, for I don’t know how long. Long after she’d left my sight for sure. I looked back towards my former associates, Brog’s body soaking the dirt of the road a deep red. Birdie’s feet sticking out of the bushes. I looked back down the road. Never would I forget those eyes.