#yes i'm hoping that this will help me sort out my thoughts and do something with them other than simply ignore them for Part II

[vii0so]

[BSD 121] Theory/Analysis

This chapter was full of things for me to over-analyse and theorise about. As always, expect spoilers, sidetracking and theories that sound farfetched.

Topics:

The (Fake) Page

Fyodor's Fixation on Dazai

The Book and Atsushi's Hallucinations

Rampo

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The (Fake) Page

To start, no...that's not the page.

As I mentioned in my last chapter post [BSD 120.5], this had been a plan from the start by Fyodor, for Atsushi to not question where the page is, by showing an ordinary page and letting him assume it's the page.

Plus, Atsushi was having a mental breakdown due to the situation at the time and couldn't think clearly but do you really think an actual page from the book - a godly item - would tear that easily? No way. It's known as indestructible for a reason.

Fyodor's plan was to break Atsushi mentally. That's what he wanted to see. Atsushi in despair.

Fyodor shows he has the page (tricking Atsushi), says it can bring his friends back (giving Atsushi hope), then tears it up right in front of him (Making Atsushi feel despair and hopelessness, breaking him).

Just look at his thoughts! He lost hope, fell to despair. If he doesn't fight, he'll die, and yet he sees no reason to continue.

Maybe Fyodor needs Atsushi to want to die before he kills him. Maybe as the 'bookmark', that's some sort of activation key for something to do with the book.

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Fyodor's Fixation on Dazai

Originally, I wasn't going to talk about this but here I am.

Fyodor decides to talk about Dazai right after mentioning the back of the page. In this he also mentions the prison, furthering my theory (Section: "The page isn't with Fyodor") that the real page is with Sigma back at the prison.

That was a bit off topic but needed mentioning, since Fyodor chooses to talk about Dazai right after mentioning the page (Yes, I'm saying it twice. Important things must be repeated).

Fyodor has no reason to mention Dazai in this way to Atsushi. If my theory that Fyodor needed Atsushi to fall into despair (...gosh, the more I say that word the more I think of Danganronpa), break him, is correct, then he has no reason to talk like this.

I would understand if Fyodor only talked about or mentioned how he beat Dazai, as Atsushi who views Dazai as all knowing would despair thinking "If Dazai couldn't beat him how can I even try?" (actually...did he already think this in one of the chapters and I forgot?) but Fyodor goes beyond that and mentions enjoying his time with Dazai.

Now, It could be just as they show; Fyodor making Atsushi believe that because of Dazai he will give Atsushi the page as stated with:

But he didn't need to do it like this.

Atsushi probably didn't even mentally register anything Fyodor said other than getting the page. So there really wasn't any reason to say all the Dazai stuff. Just mentioning giving Atsushi the page would have gotten the same reaction.

Dazai is a key figure in Atsushi's life and therefore suspecting emotional manipulation in this case (especially after finding out Atsushi - the tiger - is the book's emotional hearth - the bookmark.)

其は 「根源辺縁体」の　寵愛深き この世の楔

note: ...I spent quite a while stuck on translating this and it's not even part of Chapter 121 (it's 119) so I give up (for now).

I've left the Japanese behind in case I come back to this or in case someone else wants to tackle it (plus I spent way too long getting each kanji with my basic hiragana knowledge and BSD raws that didn't show the hiragana clearly for me to search for the kanji without guessing.)

= ✧ =

Anyway, the current translation ("emotional hearth"), would indicate that Atsushi's emotions play a big role in what happens. Therefore it's a given that Fyodor would emotionally manipulate him to activate some sort of trigger that'll help his plans.

But let's not suspect manipulation for a moment.

Why talk about Dazai?

Well, Dazai is important, "in what way?" I'm not sure, and Fyodor mentioning him right after the page shows that he is a key figure (connected to the book in some way).

Fyodor needs Dazai. Or at least...a version of him.

...I don't know what I'm saying either.

Dazai is 100% involved with the book in some way and Fyodor is aware of this fact.

Dazai is also one of the only people in Fyodor's life that understands him and can have an actual conversation with him. Fyodor has lived a long time. Once you live that long everything is predictable.

I'm sure some of the people reading this must have watched a movie or read a story at some point and thought "the ____ was obvious" wether it was the ending, villain, or something else. This happens because we have seen other media with the same things and therefore can predict what happens.

Now imagine you find a movie, book, game, etc. that isn't like anything you've seen before. It's got the same foundations and yet...you can't predict it. You can guess what will happen but you will never truly know (wow, a lot like me with BSD...I'm getting off topic).

That's how Fyodor feels. Seeing the same old cliche for 2k+ years, nothing new at all.

...Until he meets Dazai.

Dazai is the movie that's nothing like the others. A mysterious person he couldn't predict. Someone similar to himself.

So imagine you find a movie DVD that is the key to a door but also a movie that you've been looking for a long time (something new, unpredictable). You'd be interested, right? That's Fyodor's obsession with Dazai.

It's like being in a time loop and having someone remember with you. (is that even a good example? probably not...)

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The Book and Atsushi's Hallucinations

Honestly, at first I was like "Huh???", then I told myself, "Atsushi figured it out so we as the readers must be able to as well", and so I read it a couple more times and thought "The only thing that makes sense is that it's the book", any other possibility I came up with sounded too farfetched and might as well get turned into an au fanfic instead of a canon theory, so...It's the book.

Now, before I get into why, here's a random fact about myself:

I usually avoid reading other people's theories so that I can have fun theorising (having a mental breakdown/j) on my own without my theories being influenced by others.

That being said, I saw a post of someone being confused about the ending of the chapter and I was curious to see if anybody else thought it was the book like me in the post's comments.

To my surprise, a lot of people thought it was the tiger instead.

So let's start with: "Why is it not the tiger?"

This line is all the proof we need: "You're the tiger aren't you?"

It wouldn't be my style if I didn't try over analysing the raws...so I did!

I tried translating the original Japanese myself and basically got the same result with minor differences, so the [Nine of Cups] translation (shown on the left) is as accurate as it gets.

Since I didn't find anything particularly interesting while translating, here's some random Japanese that appears in the panel:

Anyway, yeah, there's no reason in my mind why it would be the tiger. There's just no way. There's no reason for it to be.

Why would the tiger say this? Why would the tiger not appear as itself? Why would Atsushi be so surprised if it was?

Also, Atsushi is the bookmark, the emotional hearth of the book, why wouldn't the book speak to him?

There's just no way it's the tiger.

Now, that we have that out of the way, let's continue:

The floor during Atsushi's "hallucinations" is usually just the ground/floor itself or a blank space (usually totally black or white).

But this time, the entire white area turns colour (from white to black), enabling us to see that there had been lines there all along.

The lines are most likely a reference to the japanese writing paper:

Genkouyoushi [ 原稿用紙 ] - manuscript paper

There have been references made before. Here are some examples:

A & C : Official Art ✧ B : Volume 18 cover ✧ D : TDIPUD LN Cover

Even though this time the distinct space between square rows isn't present and makes this look more like average grid paper I personally still believe it's a reference to genkouyoushi.

Since Atsushi is the emotional hearth, his emotions matter...a lot.

So let me give you a situation before the next part:

The lights suddenly go out in a factory, signifying that there's no power (electricity).

This factory relies heavily on electricity to function and therefore for emergencies has a backup power generator.

Once the power went out, the backup power generator kicked in, meaning nothing stopped for too long and work continued.

Now imagine:

Atsushi is the electricity in this case.

The Dazai "hallucinations" are the backup power generator.

And the factory is the book / the story we read (BSD)

When Atsushi loses all hope, without any chance at all of recovering, that will be the end of the book as well (Or at least it'll trigger something to do with the book).

Since that can't happen if the world is to continue, there is a fail-safe measure (the backup power generator) that activates when Atsushi feels particularly low (really low) or is in need of guidance away from self-destruction.

So, the book speaks in the image of Dazai - who Atsushi holds in high regard (though I'm fairly sure there's more to the book choosing "Dazai" than this) - as a way to "return the electricity to the factory".

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Rampo

Why is Rampo not mentioned here?

Seriously, what plan are Dazai and Rampo scheming against Fyodor?

He must be safe and working in the background...right?

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██████████ Completed!

I know I said I'd post this "soon"

...and suddenly "soon" turned into almost a month.

85% was written within a week of the chapter's release. But my brain didn't let me think after I tried deciphering Japanese (Kanji and general translation) for this (the translation part I gave up on) and suddenly I couldn't type anymore. I tried coming back to it but I still couldn't type much so I left it for a while.

Suddenly I realised I still hadn't finished it and the new chapter was releasing in a few hours! So I said to myself "leave it incomplete like the last time, or speed write a whole bunch of stuff and just post it".

...I typed faster than I thought I could.

So here it is, actually completed (a round of applause for me! :D)

I hope what I wrote makes sense, some parts may be off-topic(?) as I was in a rush and can't re-read what I wrote right now.

See you all in a few hours when I read the new chapter (or tomorrow if I choose to sleep after reading the chapter instead of immediately starting to type my theory/analysis post like I usually do)

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TLDR:

No, the "page" torn is not the real page. It was only used as an act to make Atsushi lose hope.

Yes, Fyodor is obsessed with Dazai in the way that we find an unpredictable movie without cliches refreshing.

Fyodor's manipulating Atsushi emotionally as a way to activate something to do with the book.

The Dazai "hallucinations" are the "book" and are a fail-safe measure (think more closely to: backup power generator) so that Atsushi - whose emotions affect the world - does not fall completely to despair (which is what Fyodor wants)

Rampo is not mentioned in the people who still need saving/are still alive but he's most likely planning in the background.

[ruindunburnit]

Okay, confession time:

I have no idea what I'm going to do with the Red Fledglings in the NoHoper series. I'm sure the Casts wrote them in as a way to bring back Stevie Rae and it snowballed from there, but the whole fact that they exist breaks the world they built and cheapens their own rules and sense of threat in the plot. Why does it matter if a fledgling rejects the Change, even if they're going to come back different, because they're coming back anyway?

That's one thing, but I'm so sure the Casts don't really know why Neferet would conceivably make a standing army of undead that she cannot actually control; the stated reason seems to be having a standing army, when it seems the more likely reason, from the brain of the mastermind who would kill professors to radicalise her school and the vampyre world at large against humans, would be manufacturing anti-vampyre sentiment when they inevitably went rogue in their pursuit of blood.

Like, I get why they made sense for the Casts' plot in the short-term, but in the long term, they simply break it, and they don't do us the decency of really making sense -- especially because their "undead" qualities were *so fucking easy* to neutralise with the elements! Call me crazy, but I don't think there's anything wrong with having the walking undead in a story - only in making it so easy to make them "living" again, and in a way that undermines your story.

Give me a break.

@cuttoncandyhair

[militaryapple]

WHATS YOUR SAFE WORD?

synopsis. you ask caleb to degrade you, and when he agrees with his own terms you take it as a challenge.

cw. fem!reader, mild degradation, asphyxiation, fingering, cunnilingus, caleb has you in a headlock, marking, he gets hard when you call him colonel.

add ons. hope everyones having a wonderful monday

wc. 1.6k

"you want me to what?" caleb said surprised. degradation? it wasn't his forte. It's not like he didn't want to degrade you, tell you how much of a fucking slut you looked when you begged for him to fill up every little crevice of your throbbing cunt. he couldn't help but praise you though, you always took his cock so nicely. it was practically made for you. the sounds you made whenever he would go deeper in your sweet cunt, how perfect you looked when he fucked you senseless. it just rolled off his tongue naturally!

"caleb" you whined softly. he thought about it. oh he couldn't help but say yes to you, he couldn't say no. not when you look up at him, batting your eyes in a way that makes you look oh-so-innocent. he couldn't help but have a wide grin fall upon his face. "okay okay, fine pipsqueak." he said playfully "but-" and there it was.

your once gleeful face dropped. of course there was going to be a "but" this is caleb after all. why did he have to make this more difficult than it needed to be? it was just gonna be like.. a test the waters thing.

"hey don't look so sad on me now, I know why you're asking me to do this anyways." he clicked his tongue after finishing his sentence, pushing his hand into his pocket before pulling out a sheet of paper, and you felt your heart drop.

oh god.

oh lumiere.

"100% masochist.." how did he?

"98% rope bunny?" take it back.

"87% experimentalist?" your face flushed, you felt like you were burning before rushing towards him and grabbing the small piece of paper. dammit! this is why you don't do things with your friends after you drink! you leave evidence of shit around! you hit Caleb as hard as you could before he ducked and laughed. how could he even find this?! you swore you hid it well. well enough that after you woke up with a very bad hangover you forgot where you placed it.

"i know everything about you pips. you think I wouldn't be able to find a small little paper you attempted to hide away?" caleb said, almost mocking you. "did you forget who took care of you last night? I'm glad I looked at it when I did. i'd be a little sad to miss something this interesting about you." he shifted over on the couch where he was seated. you plopped yourself down next to him in embarrassment.

fuck your life.

"ah- back to our conversation, my only 'but' was that we have a safe word." his gaze shifting from the paper now peering at you. his face smug. like he fucking knows everything. "you go through my things, you make fun of me and now you want a safe word? ha? do you think i'd need to tap out or something?" you snarled back at him

caleb shifted from a comfortable position to a more.. open one. his legs widened as he couldn't help teasing you. look how flare you get? how your cheeks puff and your eyes burn into him. shit you were sexy like this.

"i'm just saying pip-squeak, if you cant handle it anymore, just say the word and i'll run a warm bath for you. we can cuddle and.." he trailed off as you moved to him, placing yourself on top of his lap as his gaze, once shifted downwards to meet your eyes now looking up.

"the safe word is apples. I won't need it since you're obviously challenging me." you retorted. there was no way you were losing some sort of game to caleb. he might have physical strength but you have mental strength, and that's more than enough.

caleb hummed in approval before grabbing you by your sides and swaying your hips on his crotch. oh fuck did it rub you just right. "I know everything about you." he whispered in your ear, his breath hot. fiery. you could feel the dent in his pants rising as the friction only made you feel so much better. you couldn't give in now, you both were just beginning.

caleb dug his face in the crook of your neck his kisses moving up as he bit the side of your neck, hard enough for you to feel it but not enough to make you bleed, softly coating the area with his saliva. "I know what you like," his nibbles becoming more and more prominent, "what you hate" the feeling was euphoric for you. "what you need." oh fuck, was he marking you?

you didn't have time to react before you were flipped to your front side. it didn't take any time before caleb unbuckled your pants and undoing your zipper. one of his arms putting you in a headlock, not quite hurting you but squeezing you, while his free hand made its way down your pants and in your panties. you would be lying if you said this wasn't turning you on, and caleb knew.

"you're drenched for me baby. what is it? you like the feeling of my big arms being wrapped around your pretty little throat? its almost pathetic." his arm tightening at the feeling of you wiggling beneath in, ah ah. you weren't getting out of this that fast. he rubbed your clit slowly, kissing the back of your neck as you pleaded for him to move faster. this was torture.

caleb was more than amused, he watched as you wiggled and writhed under him. oh how he would love to just give into you but he couldn't, not when you wanted him to be mean, and that's when he heard it.

"colonel, please."

could you say that? it didn't matter. he was rock fucking hard. hearing that from you was like sweet music to his ears. caleb rubbed your throbbing clit faster, your hand grabbing on his arm wrapped around your neck keeping you stern in place. "say it again, call me colonel, tell me how much you fucking need and how you cant do anything without me." you could only shake, you were so close to your release. your head fuzzy from the low oxygen you were getting, and the feeling of you creaming your pants.

caleb moved his hand away, moving it on your thigh as he rubbed it. you begged for him to touch you again. for him to make you cum all over him. "i know baby, just say it. say you need me, say you need your colonel." he coos. you felt fucking stupid. drunk off his slim fingers which made you feel so divine. all you could do was nod your head and let out a small "okay". caleb kissed the side of your head. "see baby? you're not that stupid."

he moved his finger back as he kissed and smothered you. rubbing your sensitive area as you babble out whatever you could. "I need you colonel. please, please I need you in so many ways. I'm nothing without you, I need you." it was a melody for him, a tune that would play over and over in his head until the day he actually dies. you shook as he felt you tense up. the familiar feeling he knows all too well. "you came? who said you could do that? jeez you are slutty."

he scooped you up and brought you to his room, throwing you down as he undid his pants. he looked over and noticed his work gloves, and a bright idea came to his head. caleb walked over and grabbed his gloves, sliding them on before towering over you and moving his hands to pop right inside your exhausted pussy.

"you cant expect me to just stop now. i wanna feel good too, until you call quits is all." caleb made fun of you. you weren't going to give out, even if he felt so fucking good, and the way his fingers slipped in and out of you. fuck the gloves were cold, but they felt so so good. you shivered underneath as he hit all your good spots.

you squirmed, your body aching for more, you grabbed on his arm and looked up, babbling for something, anything. though you were met by the soft coo's of caleb. "come on use your words, I know you can." he held you down while his fingers abused your cunt.

"please caleb, please just fuck me already." it was those few words that made him flip you upside down and slide his cock in you. he moaned and held on you while he got into a somewhat steady pace. in and out, in and out. his balls hitting your clit while his tip kissed your sweet spot. "yeah? you like that? nasty little thing." he coo'd.

you couldn't take anymore, you had to cum. your body shook. you were close, so so close it was like you would fall off a ledge. you grabbed caleb whining. "please colonel, let me cum, please I've been good." you pleaded. caleb drowned at your words, he was rearing his end too. "okay baby, yeah, cum for me, okay? come on come on." his body slammed into yours, feeling a wave of euphoria wash of you. it took Caleb a few more slaps before he eventually slowed down. he slid out of you, watching your every movement.

"I told you" you said sweetly. "we didn't need a safe word. I can take you." you were right to some extent, but you were still fucked out. as for Caleb, he moved back to admire what he had done to you, before letting out a small chuckle.

"what pip-squeak? you think that we're done? you haven't tapped out yet, which means we aren't done."

[psychoticallykind]

Prompt: Name

"Name" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 555 words

Warning, sort of: Vague Death Threat

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"Regulus."

"No."

"Darling."

"No."

"Love."

"No."

"Reg."

"Not happening."

"Regulus."

"James, I don't care how many times you say my name, it's not happening."

Everything went quiet for a moment, and Regulus thought maybe James had given up.

"I really love the shirt you're wearing today."

James's tone - soft and quiet, just loud enough to reach Regulus through the door - made his cheeks burn, and he scowled at the closed door.

"Green is a beautiful color on you. Sometimes I see you in green, and I think it might be my new favorite color. You make everything look so pretty, Reg. I don't think I really understood how a color should look before I saw it on you."

Regulus closed his eyes, trying not to melt at the words.

"You're just - Merlin, you're everything, do you know that? You're everything to me. And I've never seen you as anything less than breathtakingly radiant."

"If I keep the door closed, then you'll never have to," Regulus replied.

"If you keep the door closed, I can't perform the counter-charm."

"It'll wear off on its own."

"In ten hours, Reg. You have to eat something."

"I'll be fine."

"Regulus, darling, love of my life. Please."

"No."

There was a quiet sigh. "Do I get a reason?"

Regulus considered. "You'll laugh at me."

"I promise you I won't."

"You will."

"Regulus."

"No."

"Okay," James said. "Alright. We can sit here for nine more hours."

Regulus frowned. "You don't have to stay."

"Love, I'm staying."

Regulus was sure he'd leave eventually. "You'll get bored."

"Probably, yeah."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "And what, you'll still sit there?"

"Yes. I'll be right here when you do come out."

Regulus huffed. Then he unlocked the door. "If you laugh at me, I'm breaking up with you."

"I'll never, I promise."

Regulus didn't believe it for a second. "It's unlocked."

"May I come in?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "I said it's unlocked, didn't I?"

"I still need your permission, love."

Warmth spilled through Regulus's veins, and he grinned involuntarily. "You have my permission. Come in."

"Thank you." The door swung gently inward, and James stepped into the bathroom. He visibly bit down on his smile when he saw Regulus.

"You said you wouldn't laugh," Regulus reminded him, crossing his arms.

"And I'm not," James replied, visibly amused. "It's just - well. You know."

"I know." Regulus glared. "Fix it?"

"Of course." James murmured the spell, and Regulus's bright yellow skin returned to its normal shade. "There, all better."

"Hmph." Regulus fell forward, letting James catch his weight. "That was an awful spell."

"Yes, Sirius and Barty were dealing with Snape when I left," James replied, smoothing his hands down Regulus's back. "And I think Pandora was about to help."

"Hope she kills him," Regulus muttered.

James hummed. "Usually I'd try to curb the violence, but this time I kind of agree."

"I was yellow," Regulus whispered in horror. "Yellow, James."

There was a muffled sound, and Regulus bit down on James's shoulder.

"Ow." James ruffled his hair. "Sorry. Yes, it was awful. I'm so sorry that he turned you - um, that he -" James dissolved into laughter. "-yellow. Such a bright shade of yellow."

Regulus scowled, holding James closer. "I'm breaking up with you."

James broke down laughing again.

Against his will, Regulus felt himself smile.

[daylighted]

dean winchester x angel!reader — take a shot or six.

or, dean's feeling it five in, but he's not going to let you win. or, dove beats dean at his own game.

cw, drinking, alcohol, tipsy dean sjkefdh, sexual tension SORRY

word count:

notes, by @depressionbarbie2023's suggestion... except i make it more tension riddled because i like my cute stuff with a dash of spice hehehe HOPE U LIKE IT STILL

★ ˚⋆

how were you supposed to know that the glass decanter on the accent table next to dean's chair was whiskey? he's staring at you now, like you just killed his entire family with your bare hands, as you hold a crystal glass full of it in between your nimble fingers.

you blink. his eye twitches.

"do you know how long that whiskey aged before it got to me?" he asks you slowly, like any of those words or processes are meant to ring any sort of bell in your head.

you shake your head. "why... do you let a drink age?"

another eye twitch. "enrichens the flavor." he nods toward the glass in your hand, nearly spilling over the brim. quickly, you raise the glass to try and alleviate the problem, sipping on the overflowing top loudly. "tastes good, doesn't it?"

your shoulders lift in a mindless shrug. it burns in your throat for a split second, but other than that, it tastes like caramelized oak, like wind through a nighttime forest, as sweet and secretive.

"what do you mean by—" his shoulders lift now, in a mockery of your shrug, which does nothing but make your head tilt in confusion. dean's quirks were something you were used to, at this point, but never before had you not been able to clue together why he was behaving like he was. "that's a 15-year old whiskey you're drinking like water. gimme that."

his boots echo on the solid floor as he stomps up to you, snatching the crystal glass from your fingers, letting the liquid slosh over the top and onto the both of your hands. dean gestures with his head again, his lips pursed in that look that you think, honestly, is reserved solely for you. "c'mon. lick it up. no wasting this shit."

being bossed around, and being bossed around by dean, is something you don't often let fly. his eyes stay on you as he lifts the glass to his lips, taking his own mindful sip, slow and deliberate like he's working it around his tongue before he swallows. much to the opposite of how you'd been throwing back the entirety of the decanter.

"oh, jesus christ," he grumbles when you actually do start to lick it off of your skin, the salt and the sweet burn making a surprisingly decent flavor, to his clear chagrin.

like always, it seems you do the wrong thing. since he'd shown you how to drive baby, arms around your body as he held you steady, dean had been pulling back. he was already a bit distant, but now? it felt like you were strangers all over again, and he wouldn't tell you what you'd done wrong.

it didn't stop you from coming around, though; your duty was to help the winchesters, and unfortunately for dean, helping him through his disdain for you was a part of that.

his lips stay pushed together in that signature irritated dean look, wrinkles embedded in the corners of his mouth, eyes betraying nothing of the thoughts in his head.

"i'm sorr—"

"don't even start," dean shoots back sternly, turning to weave out of the pillars of the living space and toward the kitchen area. naturally, you're inclined to follow him, your lips already downturned into a frown that could only be described as insistent. why couldn't he see or accept that you were sorry? "don't even know what you're apologizin' for."

he's opening cabinets too tall for you to reach with his free hand, eyes narrowing as he searches for something. "yes i do," you say fiercely, hurt flashing across your face at the accusation. "i upset you, and for that i'm sorry."

"oh, no, dove," he says with a little laugh, setting the crystal decanter on the countertop, using that hand to hold his weight as he reached deep into the cluttered cabinet. "you did not upset me. well," another tip of his lips into that unreadable expression, "i was, but not genuinely."

you blink at him, confusion melting into the hurt look on your face. "that does not make any sense."

"you see everything in black and white, dove," he says, a bottle of deep caramel liquid in his grip. his free hand goes to the crystal tumbler, a frown gracing his pretty expression, "two things can be true at once. i can be upset and not upset at the same time."

your mouth opens to answer him, but closes. his eyebrows flick up in amusement. "you should know that, with how often you give me that look. confused but not confused." he lets out a deep sigh through his nostrils. "christ, this is like, minimum five fingers of whiskey. whole damn hand's worth."

"there are no fingers in that." you watch as he lifts the glass to his mouth, his eyes locked and intense on yours the entire time. he downs half of it at once. "and it is inappropriate to say that."

"oh, piss off," he murmurs into the open mouth of the glass, though his eyes glimmer now, while they stay locked on yours.

your deep frown becomes a hesitant smile. no, maybe he is not-not mad anymore, actually.

he finishes the glass off with a groan that is entirely too sinful to be able to be created by one human man, albeit one that's been to hell and back. "see, this is why m'not pissed at you," dean says, voice thick and raspy as he tips the glass in your direction. "because i've got a helluva tolerance, and that burns. you... you drank that entire decanter like it was fuckin' kool-aid."

a pause and a blink. "juice. like juice. m'not explainin' kool-aid to you today. not in the mood."

his nails tap lightly on the countertop, drawing your attention there. "m'gonna guinea pig the shit outta you real quick."

"guinea pig?" your voice is a soft mutter of confusion. "you cannot—"

the sound of something popping open makes you blink in surprise, caught off guard by the sound of the cork popping free from the bottle on the countertop. "we're gonna play a game, dove. s'all you need to worry that pretty, confused little head about."

"oh."

dean pours a sip's worth into the crystal glass, before he pauses with the bottle in the air, and pours another of the same amount in. then, he passes the glass to you. "bottoms up."

"you are not getting me to show you my bottom, dean," you say sternly, with so much more authority than anyone could expect from an angel with a glass of whiskey in your fingers.

dean actually laughs. it's such a nice sound, hearty and rare these days. you wish you could bottle it up and cork it instead of what's already in there. surely, whatever it was wasn't as good as the sound of cackling. "means drink up, dove."

if only he'd actually just said that. you fluster, but you attempt to hide it behind the glass as you raise it to your mouth and sip it down in one gulp.

he tips his head in a small nod, eyebrows to his hairline, watching you with a look you can't explain in his eyes. impress? shock? affection? they're all things he rarely shows you, especially anymore. "what?"

dean raises his hands in mock surrender. "you just tossed back at least an eight hundred dollar double shot like juice, dove. let a man be impressed."

you choke belatedly. that little amount was eight hundred dollars? no wonder he'd been so angry, when he'd stumbled into you finishing off the bottle in the living space.

"nuh uh, pretty thing," he wags his finger, before the motion becomes a snap until you hand him back the glass, "no gettin' shy now. i wanna see you off your ass."

you bristle at that. "you have an obsession with my... my ass."

dean's grin becomes downright wicked. "yeah, i do."

the words take a second to register, and by the time they do, he's turned back and pouring another two shots worth into the glass. thankfully, too, because the last thing you want is for him to see the flush of pink on your cheeks.

"c'mon. one more." dean turns, holding the glass out for you. his eyes are a little glazed, and he seems lighter on his feet. not so tense around you as he'd been for weeks. you suck your lip between your teeth as you debate it, a little nervous, admittedly, to know what it's like to be off your ass. "nope. none of that."

his free hand cups your cheek suddenly, thumb dragging your bottom lip out of your mouth. "what?" you say, blinking your confusion. "none of what?"

"that," he answers, waving his hand in a broad gesture in front of your face. "m'feelin' too warm and buzzy to watch you bite your lip like a little temptress right now."

temptress. you? just because you'd— "oh." you feel your heart skip in your chest, and the feel of it nearly makes you jump. too close. he's too close. did you always feel like this when he was near, or was this one of those new feelings you stumbled across sometimes, that left you a bit breathless in your confusion?

the glass in his hand presses to your puffed bottom lip, the coolness of it dragging it open further, until it's in a little open o-shape. dean is close enough that you can hear the shudder in his inhale. you wonder, for a second, if it's because his heart, too, is stumbling over itself in his chest.

he begins to tip it back, pouring it in a slow stream between your parted lips. "yeah, that's a good girl," he mumbles, his voice rougher than you've heard it before. the praises always make you feel headier than usual, warm all over like the whiskey felt in your throat. "little more, c'mon. i know you can take it. yeah, just like that."

your eyes are locked on his the entire time, and you watch in real time as his pupils double in size, the green of his irises disappearing into a thin ring. once the glass is empty, he holds it to your lips a blink longer than necessary, his own mouth parted with words he didn't yet say.

another blink, and the glass is away from your mouth, and he's at the sink, back turned to you. "feel it yet?"

your hands do feel warm, like static runs through your veins, like each of your movements is more fluid. "i feel... something."

dean turns on the stream of the faucet, rinsing the glass out in silence. but softer than a breath, you hear him say, "yeah. so am i, dove."

tags,

@figthoughts, @jasvtsc, @titsout4nicholas, @deanswidow, @whyyouegg,

@bombarda-babe, @whisperingwillowxox, @underground-secret,

@bitchykittenconnoisseur, @jensenacklesantidote,

@keira-kaz2y5

[goldsbitch]

You texted...

Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.

angst, one shot

The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.

Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.

Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."

Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."

Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.

"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."

"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.

"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"

Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.

"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.

"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"

"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.

Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.

"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.

//

Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.

"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.

"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."

"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.

"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.

"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"

"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.

"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.

"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."

"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."

"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."

"Does he know that?"

"No?"

Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."

"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.

"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."

"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"

Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."

"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.

"What did you text?"

"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."

"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."

They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.

//

A doorbell rang.

"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.

"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"

"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"

"Gotcha."

She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?

But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.

"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.

"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"

"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.

"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.

The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.

She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.

Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"

"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.

"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."

The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.

"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."

She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.

"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"

It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.

Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.

"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."

He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.

"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."

"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.

"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."

She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.

"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.

"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."

He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."

She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.

She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.

[elllisaaa]

I read your seungmin casual dominance and size kink and was wondering if you could please do one for Jake?? nsfw and sfw if possible :)

hii ! i'm very sorry about how long this took me to write, i hope you'll still like it !

JAKE + CASUAL DOMINANCE who seem to have some kind of radar for when you need his help, and he does it so mechanically, like it's a second nature for him that it makes you melt inside. it's how you just lean on him whenever you need help, how you don't ever bring your wallet with you when the two of you go out because jake automatically pays everything for you.

also, his hands are always on you when you go out - on the small of your back, and around your waist, hand high up your thigh to remind you and everyone around that you're his. jake often picks out your outfits to match with his, a cheeky grin on his face if someone comments on it. he makes all sorts of decisions for you - what restaurant you're going to eat at, which movie you're watching, and the list goes on - because he just knows what you want and need before you even do. whenever you're with him, you can just disconnect your brain and let jake do all the thinking for you - and he loves that you trust him that much.

this whole thing plays in his SIZE KINK and moreover his need to protect you. he always wants you to rely on him and he finds it so cute whenever you ask for his help because something is too high up from your reach or because you're not strong enough to open a jar for exemple.

these two things are particularly showing in bed. jake loves to be in control of your pleasure, to dictate when you can cum and when you can't. it makes you so much more desperate for him and he thrives on it.

"please ! please jake ! i promise i'll be good…" jake chuckles darkly, his fingers never leaving your cunt as he keeps you pinned to the mattress. "but i want to play a little longer with my good girl, don't you want me to ?" - "y-yes but i want your cock, please…" your whines are only spurring him on to continue edging you, watching you try to squirm away from him and fail because he is so much stronger than you "i need to stretch your tight little cunt, baby, need to have you all relaxed on him." - "i'm wet enough, i swear, please…" jake slaps your cunt with a hum when he hears the squelchy sound it produces, the arousal dripping all over the sheets beneath you at this point. "i think i need to make you squirt before, need to get you all wet for my big cock." and you knew he's right because he's huge, and the mere thought makes you salivate. you both love that jake is able to control you so easily.

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?” 

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?” 

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

[6gumi]

can’t afford to fail.

synopsis ﹒your arrogant n self centred professor helps you get your grade up !

pairings ﹒dr. ratio x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. professor x college student 、mild age gap (dr ratio’s abt 28 while reader is 19-20) 、degradation 、desk s3x 、he’s a lil mean here :( 、use of nicknames 、pussy slapping (there ws like . . two!) 、t!tplay 、dirty talk 、reader implied 2 be smaller 、slight spanking 、unprotected s3x

note ﹒been too long since i wrote anything n i thought abt this . . i’ve BEEN thinkin’ abt it for awhile n i jus get so . . i get so giggly thinkin’ abt it LMAO i hope this is fine ! let’s hope i proofread in time ! reblogs r highly appreciated, feel free 2 send me an ask ! — millie ♡

“utterly ridiculous.” dr ratio replied mockingly, an eyebrow raised as his taller form towered over yours, his gaze on you was firm and serious, like he was trying to scare you away. “do you see what i’m seeing?” he raised up one of your marked worksheets you handed in the other day, in pure honesty . . it wasn’t even your fault! you wanted to curse at him for not even bothering to give you and your fellow students more time to study, it was his fault in the first place for making you all stress! that’s what you wanted to say, but he would’ve had your head for that.

“ . . . yes prof.” you muttered with a small nod.

“tell me what you see then.”

you glanced up at him, your eyes slowly trailing from him to the paper he held . . failed?! again?? gosh . . you knew this would happen either way, you wanted to scream, clench your fists and beg for another retake but knowing the type of professor dr ratio was, you knew you weren’t getting any of that, no . . not anytime soon.

“ . . i didn’t do that good.”

“—didn’t do that good is an understatement, you did terrible. your idiocy is all i see written on this fail-worthy of a sheet, your work habits in class are worse than those other idiots i teach.” the professor sighed and steepled his fingers, leaning forward. “why are you falling off in my classes? are you afraid of asking me for help, is that it?” his eyes narrowed with a condensing glare, the tension in the room grew heavier.

yeah well . . if i ask you for help, you’d insult me and get annoyed anyways, was what you wanted to say. i mean, you weren’t wrong . . you were certain dr ratio had some sort of short temper or something, no matter what he says or what you do, he is the last person you’d ask for help. “someone with major idiocy like you should be grateful i’m taking time out of my day to speak to you about your dismissive performance, you know how much people would kill to have my attention right now?" dr ratio’s voice took on a harsher tone as he watched you react to his words. “even your classmates are so much more adept, why are you even in my class?"

your body jolted at his words, no matter how tough you tried to act you were secretly trying your absolute best to hold back the tears that threatened to leave your eyes, it was hard to take in his words . . it’s hard enough to not be his top student!

dr ratio’s eyes widened slightly seeing how your body jolted at his words, he took a quick breath and thought about how he would address the situation with you with a more gentler approach. "please, humor me." he took a deep breath, trying to be patient and understanding with you. he was already noticing a slight difference in your behaviour. "i’ve spent nearly a decade teaching in this institute," he continued in a slow yet low tone, “i promise you, i know what I'm talking about. how about i help you right here right now and let’s see where to go from there, got it? tell me what you don’t understand and what you do understand.”

“ . . alright.”

— ♡ —

. . it seems you both had a different idea of “helping”. you hated yourself for enjoying it, he was your professor for heaven’s sake! now you were on your knees, your mouth wrapped around his wet cock as soft grunts left his lips. you couldn’t lie . . he looked absolutely stunning from this angle, the way he threw his head back when you swirled your tongue around the slit of his dick. dr ratio groaned, his voice deep and husky as he leaned closer to see how well you were sucking him off. " . . . u-ugh . . fuck, this mouth of yours needs to be punished . . considering how many times you talked back to me in under an hour.”

before you could pull away from his cock on your own, dr ratio’s free hand slipped downwards, grasping firmly at your head, tugging it upwards. you were roughly pulled away with a gasp, you were almost out of breath as your professor pulled you closer against his chest. “a slut like you needs to learn how to be fucked properly. maybe that’s how i can help you, fuck the information in you.”

he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck before trailing upward, his tongue tracing along your jawline and then claiming your lips forcefully. his hands moved downwards, his cock throbbing even harder in his pants. he stepped closer, reaching out to fondle one of your breasts, squeezing it softly before running his thumb over your hardened nipple . . massaging them firmly as your tongues tangled together, your moans muffled by his mouth. dr ratio’s eyes widened in awe as he pulled away from your lips, a line of saliva connected your lips and his as he admired the sight of your breasts, now fully exposed for him to feast his eyes upon. he bit his bottom lip, unable to tear his gaze away from them as they were truly a sight to behold, heavy and perky, nipples erect and begging for attention. “tell me, [name],” he licked his lips, reaching down to flick his tongue against one of your nipples.

"why can't you be as skillful as the others? do you not have the intellectual capacity?" he smirked against your nipples, watching you intently as he waited for your response. “you’re nothing but an idiot, are you not? can’t even pass any of my damn classes.” he stepped closer to you, placing one hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you towards his desk. "undress yourself slowly," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

“ . . prof, we can’t do this . . i’m your student, you’re my professor, you’re seriously overdoing this—“

“do you want to fail my class completely or not, princess?” dr ratio muttered, raising a brow. “do you even understand the situation in front of you? you’re a failing student and should be begging me for help.“ he grabbed you by your thighs, roughly slamming you on top of his desk. “you know what you should be doing? you should be on your fucking knees, groveling for me to give you a second of my attention. instead, you're refusing to let me help get your grade up. besides . .” he leaned in closer against your ear, bringing his voice down to a whisper . . “i know that a dirty slut like you is enjoying this as much as i am.” he raised his hand, slapping your cunt that was clothed by your pink panties as hard as he could. “show me this pussy or it’s an automatic zero.”

your eyes flashed with shock and a hint of pleasure, dr ratio’s voice seething with contempt as it sent shivers down your spine . . it was obvious he wasn't going to let this go easily. you gave in . . wrapping your arms around his neck, “ . . prof . .” your face flushed red, nuzzling against his neck. “can’t . . ‘s embarrassing—“

“veritas.”

“ . . pardon?”

“call me veritas, moan it while i fuck you.”

your professor’s heart skipped a beat at his own boldness, his hand slipped down towards your lower region, grasping firmly at the hem of your skirt and tugging it upwards, revealing your lacy pink underwear underneath. with one swift motion, he ripped them apart, exposing your wet glistening pussy to his hungry eyes. "sit on the edge of the desk," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "spread your legs wide and let me see that pretty cunt.”

you bit your lip, gazing up at him with those sweet eyes of yours as you were hesitant to even do anything under those hungry eyes of his own, “ . . do i have to? that’s . . that’s too embarrassing.”

“do you want to completely fail my class or not?”

wincing at his words, you slowly obeyed his demands . . spreading your legs with a sense of embarrassment and shame as he humiliated you completely, it was like . . he wasn’t even aware he was humiliating you! spreading your legs in front of your own damn professor? you didn’t even know what was going on in your mind at this rate! but yet . . your pussy pulsed around nothing, you craved for this and you hated that the most. the dark haired male reached down, unfastening his own pants and boxers in one swift motion, revealing his massive cock, veined and thick, dripping with precum . . it stood tall and proud, ready to claim whatever it desired, you weren’t even sure if it could fit.

"turn around," he ordered, keeping his tone low and seductive. "show me your ass." you obeyed, slowly hopping off the desk as you bent over . . your ass in his full view. your body flinched, eyes wide as he gave your cheeks one mean yet harsh slap. “try and guess how many times you nearly failed my class.” his hardened member brushed against your entrance teasingly, he couldn't resist anymore. with one swift motion, he positioned himself between your spread legs, aligning his cockhead with your tight hole from behind. “go.”

he pushed slowly, his head sliding past your tight ring of muscles, eliciting a soft moan from you as your eyes rolled back . . your pussy spasming around his thick cock almost instantly . . it was like it belonged there. “p—prof . .”

“ah ah.” he shoved his fingers inside your mouth, pressing the pad of his fingertips against your tongue. “what’s my name, slut? tell me. what did i say.” dr ratio pushed forward, stretching your hole even wider than before . . filling you up inch by agonizing inch. you couldn’t lie, each thrust of his felt like heaven, as if you and him were finally becoming one.

“v—veritas . .”

“good fuckin’ girl.” once fully buried to the hilt, he paused, taking a moment to savour this forbidden moment. his hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you steady as he began to move rhythmically in and out of your wet cunt, hitting your g-spot with a sense of urgency and desperation each powerful thrust. “guess how many times you almost failed my class, come on . . speak up, or are you giving up already?”

“ngh . . three?”

“wrong.” SLAP!

he ran his hand down the fat of your ass, slapping it loudly as you could feel the sound reverberating through the entire room . . your tongue lolling out your lips as another slap came down, even harder than the first. “keep guessing.”

“ah!— u-uhm . . five?” you moaned at the mere feeling of him picking up the pace, his hips rocking in sync with his thrusts. his cock throbbed harder inside your tight channel, stretching and massaging your insides in a way that drove you both wild with pleasure, it’s like . . he was trying to fuck you dumb, fuck you till you couldn’t think. “wrong again.” his voice ran through your ears, moans and gasps filled the room yet muffled by each loud thrust. sweat trickled down your professor’s back as he increased his rhythm, pounding into your hole faster and harder, building towards climax until the tip of his cock slammed against your deepest areas.

his hands roamed freely over your body, cupping your breasts roughly, pinching and tweaking at your nipples until they stood erect and hardened once more. dr ratio bit down on the flesh of your neck, leaving a mark that would serve as a reminder of this moment later on. "see how good i’m fucking this pussy?” he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. “come on, keep going . . stay focused.” he was lost in the feeling of your cunt, pounding into you like it was his last as his thrusts become even stronger as he reached his peak again. dr ratio groaned loudly, his cock throbbing violently inside you as a huge glob of cum shot out, yet his thrusts never yielding.

“mmh . . ah! veritas . . please!” his hands roamed over your body, trailing along your arms and shoulders, stopping at your pretty breasts once more. "fuck, this is the best pussy i’ve ever fucked.” he panted, pulling on one nipple, then the other in turn. "so fucking perfect." your moans and gasps became louder, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure. your bodies moved together in sync, hips rocking in harmony with his thrusts.

SLAP! “come on, baby.”

“s—six . . seven?! fuck . . ah!” piles and piles of paper fell off his desk when you were pushed forward, back arched with your eyes rolled back. “veritas . . i think this is enough . . someone’s gonna hear—“

veritas chuckled mockingly, his eyes glowing with malice as he grabbed hold of your chin firmly, tilting her head back in submission. his lips crashed forcefully against your own, tongue thrusting into your mouth roughly, claiming ownership over your body. "oh, i think you and i both know this is far from enough," he growled between kisses, his hands roaming freely over your lithe figure. "you know damn fucking well . . you don’t want me to fail you, right? so, accept it. your body’s damn made for this, princess . . see how well your body is responding to my cock? c’mon. look at me directly and tell me straight up you don’t enjoy this.”

drawing out soft whimpers from your throat, your professor continued his dirty work on your sensitive spots until you squirmed helplessly beneath him, unable to resist any longer . . your voice stuck between your throat as you couldn’t even find the right words to retort, accepting the way he took you against the desk, his rough thrusts forcing you to push your body against the cold surface as a puddle of cum formed on the floor from your professor’s previous orgasm, so fucking messy . .

“my point taken.” he savoured the feeling of being deep inside your warm, wet hole . . he knew he was gonna have dreams of this pretty cunt of yours, each time he pulled back, a low growl escaped his throat as your bodies slapped together, creating sounds of lustful pleasure. veritas’ hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady while his cock continued its relentless exploration of your gummy walls. in sync with each thrust his hips rocked against yours as well, grinding his pelvis and your ass together, the sensation was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before . . raw, primal, and addictive. you couldn't think but respond to him with your body, your moans becoming more pronounced and needy.

“listen to me,” dr ratio gave your ass another mild smack. “you’re gonna take this dick while you tell me exactly what you’re having trouble with in class, understand? ‘gonna fuck everything through your head just like i said . . afterall . .”

“you can’t afford to fail, can you?”

[bvidzsoo]

Your worst mistake...

ᨒ District 4 ✧ one of Panem's wealthiest districts, plays an essential role in bringing the bounty of the sea, victors: Mags Flanagan, Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: stylist!Choi San x victor!female reader

ᨒ Warning: gore, descriptions of murder, beheading (sort of, mostly implied), violence, blood, weapon use, injuries, ptsd, slightly suggestive, co-dependency, probably unhealthy attachments, slight weight shaming (don't do that!) ᨒ Word count: 25.7k ᨒ Rating: mature, nc-17 ᨒ Genre: Hunger Games!au; forbidden love!au, set before Katniss and Peeta became victors ᨒ Summary: Your innocence was stripped the day you were reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. The life you had known, and the joy of living well were all just forgotten aspirations. The Games were cruel and terrifying, and they changed anyone who emerged as a victor, who took the crown and returned to the living. And was all that pain, terror, and haunting memories worth it? Was it worth living a life as a monster? Perhaps, yes, it was, if a man was determined enough to show you what tenderness and love meant, that to him you had never changed. But that man was Choi San, a stylist from the Capitol, another gem adored by the masses, so, could he really love you?

A/N: And.it's.here! Hello, my lovelies, happy weekend, I hope you can unwind with this little story. ^^ It's a happy end, that I can promise (or is it haha, jk don't worry). This became so long that I thought it would never end, it really tried to kick my ass. You don't exactly have to read Mingi's part first, but I'm just letting you know it exists and it happens before whatever goes down in this story, some new dynamics are introduced through this story that you don't get to see in his :)). Let me know if I have to add anything else into the warnings and pls take them seriously, our MC is a victor and there are sequences where she's in the games, so yes, there's murder and blood and stuff, although I don't think I made them too descriptive, stay mindful still. Also! The MC is eighteen and San in his early twenties, just wanted to clear that up. I hope you enjoy and lmk what you thought, I love hearing your thoughts! I can't wait to write Yunho's part, that one is going to be a handful omg hihi divider

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was cold, the surface beneath sturdy and slippery almost, my body pressing heavily into it. Nothing made sense, I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t call out for help, and it felt like I was endlessly falling into the void. My lips parted but apart from a pained whine nothing managed to come past, vocal cords heavy and aching from the lack of hydration, from having screamed too loud and too much. It was hard to breathe, something was pressing down against my chest, heavy and cold to the point my heart started pumping blood faster, my eyelids fighting against my brain as I tried to open them.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

The burn in my left calf was excruciating, I tried to hold onto something, fingers flexing, trying to reach for anything to no avail. My head was thumping painfully and my nostrils stung from the sanitised air I was breathing in, mouth parting when a violent cough shook my body, forcing me to turn onto my right side. Feeling nothing underneath me all of a sudden, my eyes flew open with a loud gasp, fingers curling around the edge of the surface I was lying on. Cold, hard, metallic tables were all around me, the white lights blinding as they made my head ache more violently.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

Another harsh cough shook my body and I started trembling as I realized just how cold I was, the gown I was wearing was thin and almost sheer, making me whip my head around to search for clues as to where I could be at the moment. I could have sworn I was in the Arena just seconds before, dirty ground shaking underneath my feet as I tumbled to my knees, an arrow slicing my calf open as my arms burned as I mustered up my last power and threw the axe ahead. There was a sickening crack, but I couldn’t see as my vision was darkening, my body begging for a good rest. Perhaps it was finally over, perhaps the suffering would be gone if I let go now.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

But I realized I wasn’t in the Arena anymore as my right arm burned where different IV drips entered it, liquid entering my body and making me shudder as the sight of the tubes made me feel sick to my stomach. My chapped lips hurt as I tried to lick them, trying to sit up and call out for help, but my head was too dizzy and my body complained at every minuscule move as I rolled onto my back, whining again as pain surged throughout my whole body. I couldn’t breathe for a second, lungs heaving for air as another violent cough tore through my throat, making my eyes widen when I felt liquid trail down the side of my face.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

My fingertips were red when I lowered them, my skin covered in goosebumps as my eyes fixated on the white ceiling. Was this what others called Heaven? Was I dead, or perhaps tethering on the line between life and death? This year was my last entry to the Hunger Games, I shouldn’t have been reaped, but that’s not how these games worked. I gulped, eyes filling with tears when I realized I would be the Capitol’s slave now if I survived this last trial, wired up to machines in a white place that made my body shake and call out for a name that only brought more pain than protection. San.

“The winner of the 73rd Hunger Games is the female tribute from District 4. Congratulations, Miss Kwon, your journey was long and strenuous, you may rest now.” I tried to fight it, to tell them to let me go, to let me succumb to nothingness, but the pounding in my head worsened and the lights only became brighter, all force and will leaving my body as I lay limply on top of the metallic table. A weak attempt at a cry for help left my lips as my eyes succumbed to the haze coating my mind, kidnapping any thought and free will.

I was nothing but a pawn in a greater game.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

I was back home, in District 4. The ocean was by my feet as I blinked my eyes open, confused and disoriented as I looked out towards the never-ending water, lips trembling when I realized I was home. I inhaled shakily as I crouched down, fingers reaching out for the oncoming wave. The water was cold and soaked the ends of my white dress, my feet sunk into the wet sand now, steady but nerves shaky as I raised my wet hand to my nose and lips. I was home. The water was still as salty as ever and it smelled of home. My heart lurched as I shakily stood again, gripping my dress tightly as I stepped towards the water, wondering whether the waves would engulf my whole being and turn me into foam, returning me to where I had come from.

My eyes stung the longer I stared out towards the horizon, the sun hidden behind white clouds. The beach was eerily empty apart from myself and the seagulls, and I took a shaky breath when the bell of a fishing boat chimed out in the distance. My heart felt less heavy, less afraid of a future that promised certain death. I was home and I was free, I was myself again, I could pick up where I had left off, and I could live the life I always wished for. I could get inside my father’s fishing boat and go out onto the water with him, I could collect pearls and braid pretty bracelets and sell them at the day market, I could roam the busy streets again and I could see my loved ones, hug them and tell them how much I had missed them.

But I had learned that our lives were never predictable, no matter how much we planned and how much we thought ahead, something—or someone—always managed to stir it up, it would always find ways to disturb the mundane and change your whole perception of an ever-changing future. I didn’t hear him, the waves were loud and downed out all sounds beside my breaths, and I gasped when I felt strong arms circle around my waist, pull me back into a strong chest, cold nose buried in my neck as hot breath fanned over my skin. I froze for a second, scared and uncertain, wondering who would hold me so dearly, so lovingly, so tenderly despite the power he held in his hands. And then it clicked, his honey-like cologne mingling with the salty air of the ocean, I knew it was him. It was San.

Muscles tensing and body freezing, my eyes widened as my mind didn’t know whether it wanted to turn around and hide against him, or push him away and run as far away as possible. In the end, the longing and burning want had won the battle as I grabbed his warm arms, exposed as he wore a sleeveless tank top, and I turned in his loving hold, facing him. His tan skin seemed to come alive under the evening light of the tired sun, and his face remained void of worry or fear as a single dimple appeared on his cheek when his lips pulled to the side. His naturally sharp and small eyes became even smaller as they creased with his smile, turning into nothing but friendly and loving slits as San hugged me closer to himself.

“I have missed you,” His deep voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, soft and careful as his expression didn’t falter, “You returned to me.”

I gulped, hands shaking as I wondered whether this was a dream, San’s presence was too strong for it to be something made up by my mind. I had never held him like this before, it would’ve been impossible to dream of a man that was never mine to begin with, “San.”

“Yes, my love—”

“San.” It seemed like I couldn’t say anything else, hands raising as I gripped the collar of his tank top tightly, yanking him down as my eyes ran over his features, looking for any tale-tell sign that he wasn’t real. But he was here, he was holding me, he was smiling at me, and his eyes held kindness as he raised his hand, cupping my cheek as his thumb swept over my bottom lip once, then twice.

“I’m here, my love, forever here.” And unable to hold back anymore, I grabbed him by the nape and pulled him down, pressing his red lips against mine, hungry to claim what should have been mine from the beginning. It felt like anything I had previously experienced, his lips were warm and they seemed to sit perfectly against mine, careful but eager to explore my own lips as if he were a starved man. I gasped as I felt San pull me against his body, tilting my head back for better access, our lips parting as we took a second to gasp into each other’s mouths. It felt freeing, it felt safe to be held like this by him, to be loved and to know you had someone waiting for you, someone you could return to no matter how much life had changed you.

“Don’t leave me, please.” I managed to whisper when our lips parted for another breather, close enough to brush together when one of us spoke. San hummed, running his fingers through my short hair, a motion that was calming and assuring that he was here with me and for me. He smiled again and nodded once, nuzzling his nose against mine as I finally felt the tension ease from my muscles, letting me enjoy my freedom. I would never have to return to the Arena or the Capitol, Snow couldn’t do anything to me now. But as if my words were heard by some deity, or President Snow itself, the sky darkened unnaturally fast, waves high as they crashed against the shore, forcing San and I to move away, closer to the rocks and the pathway that led down to the beach. My eyes furrowed as I faced the ocean, the sky menacing as lightning struck in the distance, and I turned my head to look at San when I felt him release me.

His expression was one of ease, as if nothing bothered him, as if the weather seemed normal to him. He chuckled as his eyes settled on the horizon, “There’s something soothing about a storm, don’t you think?”

Storms out on the ocean were terrifying, but I couldn’t find my words as the wind tousled his dark hair, his white clothes clinging to his sturdy body as I tried to hold the skirt of my dress down. It was cold, I could see my breath and that was unnatural too, but I couldn’t peel my eyes off San, enraptured by the vision of him in the eye of a storm. He didn’t look out of place here, by my side, in District 4. His beauty might have been over the top, but with all the makeup gone, he looked like he could belong here, with the people of the district. Cheeks warming at the thought, I opened my mouth to answer his question, but two things happened at once. Thunder cracked loudly, making me flinch as it shook the ground and made my ears ring even after it was over, and San’s eyes suddenly steeled, arm reaching out as he aggressively pushed me back.

My eyes widened in confusion as I watched his stance become defensive, small eyes turning dangerous as he sneered, the cross necklace hanging between his pecks just a show since people like him believed in no gods, they were the gods, “San?”

But when his mouth opened, lips curling into words, no sound came out, just a loud gasp and small eyes turning so wide they could’ve popped. Confused for a few more seconds, I yelped when something warm sprayed onto me, dripping down the side of my face as it covered my hair, face, and even dress, slowly dripping down. Half of an axe stuck out from the back of San’s head, lodged in perfectly to kill him not quite instantly but certainly painfully. Something gurgled left his mouth, something I couldn’t understand as his body shook, eyes becoming hazy when he fell to one knee. My body shook as I stood frozen in shock, our white clothes coated in San’s hot red blood, dripping and tainting our hands. I couldn’t do anything as I watched his limbs grow heavy, his skin turn sickly pale until nothing was left of the man, just a lifeless body which was now crumbled into the sand, seeping red everywhere around us.

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t even see anymore as the metallic scent of blood invaded my senses, making me gag before I could stop myself, throat tight as bile rose higher and higher. No, who had done this? Who wanted to strip me of my last thread of happiness? I couldn’t lose him, not San. And before I knew it, a scream so loud it ruptured my vocal cords tore through my throat, blood pooling in my mouth until I couldn’t breathe and feel anymore. Not San too, what did they want from me? I yelped as I felt cold knuckles pressing against my hot cheeks, chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to push at the hands, body shaking and mind reeling.

“It’s alright, hey,” The feminine voice was gentle, but I couldn’t calm down, where was I, “Y/N, it was just a bad dream, it’s alright, I’m here now.”

I didn’t understand. What was a bad dream? Where was San? Where was I? What’s happened to me? What’s happened to everyone?

“Focus on my voice,” The feminine voice spoke up again as finally the darkness was replaced with a faint golden glow, forcing my eyes to adjust to the light and my surroundings, “You’re back in the Capitol, in your room at the training centre, you’re safe. It’s me, your mentor, Joohyun.”

Joohyun, yes, I knew her. I shoot up in a sitting position, gripping her hands frantically as my mind felt scrambled, all over the place while I still couldn’t quite breathe, “Where—what happened? Why am I—San?”

My mentor just sighed and beckoned me over, pressing my head against her chest despite my reluctance, “You won the Games, Y/N, you’re the new victor of District 4. It’s going to be okay, I promise, I’ll be there for you and so will be everyone else who knows what it means to win the Games.”

“But San?” I asked in a whisper as I finally relaxed against Joohyun, letting her cradle me against her chest as if I were a baby who needed soothing.

“San is…here.” Joohyun spoke calmly but her tone was strained, “You’ll see him tomorrow, you need to rest now, Y/N.”

I hummed, mind filled with the image of San’s lifeless body lying at my feet. It made my lungs constrict and I gripped at the sheets, trying to prevent a panic attack as Joohyun sighed, gently pushing me back by the shoulders, “You should have some water first.”

I nodded and took it from her wordlessly, downing the cup of water as my throat felt parched, my eyes burning from how dry they were. Joohyun watched me wordlessly as I fiddled with the cup in my hands, breaths regulated but my mind still wasn’t present, lost in the vividity of the bad dream.

“I know you won’t be able to sleep, but you must try.” Joohyun spoke up when she realized I wouldn’t say anything to her, she looked tired, older than she was, as if the Games had worn her out too, “It might feel suffocating at times, but you’re not alone in this, so don’t be afraid to reach out. Your interview, it’s…tomorrow, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stall it, President Snow wants you up and running for the public as soon as possible. You gave everyone quite the scare when you passed out, the Capitol thought they wouldn’t have a victor to celebrate this year.”

“Maybe it would have been better like that.” I found myself muttering as I looked down at the cup in my hands. Joohyun gulped, looking towards the huge windows that had been darkened so the city lights wouldn’t bother me. I missed the ocean, I wanted to go home. With sadness ridden in her eyes, Joohyun leaned forward and took the cup from my hands, patting them gently before she stood.

“I’m glad you returned.” She said quietly, eyes avoiding mine when she looked up, “The real Games start only now, Y/N.”

I didn’t know what her answer meant, but I didn’t want to find out as my mind screamed for me to sleep, my muscles protesting when I reached out for the remote control to change the blackness of the window into one of the ocean that resembled District 4 rather accurately. Alone in a room that bore only unpleasant memories, a reminder of the life I was stripped of, I lay on my side, facing the sparkling blue water foaming at the top as the waves crashed, and I couldn’t help but hum to myself a lullaby that only the sailors of District 4 knew.

            I wasn’t ready. My heart thundered in my chest as my makeup artists fluttered around me, making sure everything was perfect, eyeshadow staying in place as my skin felt like melting off by how much product had been put on it. I stayed silent and parted my lips when Mingyu, an intimidatingly tall man, leaned down to tap a red-coated thin brush against my lips, coating them in a sickening red as I watched myself through the mirror. It reminded me of all the blood I had to spill in the Arena, of my own blood that seemed to constantly cling to my body, the smell reminding me of the monster I had become. I flinched when Hinata’s hand patted my bare shoulder encouragingly, a small tiara now placed on top of my head, nestled into the unnatural bun she and her assistant, an Avox, managed to somehow pull together despite the short length of my hair.

I felt cold despite the warm temperature of the room and my throat seemed to constrict each time I tried to respond to the people surrounding me, who were genuinely happy to have me back. I hadn’t had the chance to grow close with them as we only had a few days to prepare for the Games, but I appreciated the effort they put into making me look presentable. After all, their job mattered a lot since they had to make me look desirable to the public, for the Capitol. And still, as the white fabric clung to my body tightly, a net-like brown fabric draping down from my hips well below where the skirt of my dress ended, I was reminded of my stylist’s gentle touch anytime he had to dress me. Today he wasn’t here to help out, to soothe my nerves with quiet words and a sharp gaze that was filled with regret but also admiration. The desperate need to see San was maddening as Joohyun stormed inside the dressing room, her eyes slightly wide as she was panting. She wore an elegant white suit, matching her petite form well.

“Is she ready?” She addressed the team still fussing around me, Mingyu, now frowning as he added more blush to my cheeks, spoke up.

“Last minute touch-ups, Flickerman can wait another few minutes.”

“But I’m afraid President Snow can’t.” Joohyun’s voice dropped as Mingyu stiffened, looking over my head at Hinata, who looked just as displeased as her teammate.

“Fine, but I still need to clip the pearls—”

“I’ll do it.” The room fell silent as I stiffened in my seat, eyes widening just a little bit as the man that’s been haunting my every thought since I had met him appeared in the doorway. I gulped, watching Joohyun’s expression settle into unease as she nodded towards the door, Mingyu and Hinata stepping away from me as they understood Joohyun’s implication, “Leave us alone.”

“Don’t take too long, San.” Joohyun’s voice held a warning and I gripped the edge of the seat harshly, long fake nails sinking into the leather. Hinata offered San a smile as she handed over the pearls to him as she passed by him and it felt like all air left the room when the door closed behind San and only the two of us remained inside. I gulped, eyes boring into his through the mirror, and I couldn’t help but let the harsh words tumble past my red-stained lips.

“I hate you.” A beat of silence passed as I stood, still watching San through the mirror, taken aback by his beauty and elegance in the white suit he wore, highlighting his sharp features and tan complex. His blazer was low cut and placed everything the Capitol found desirable on display, his pants long enough to obscure his shoes, and his coat was long too as it hid his large build fairly well. My breath caught in my throat when San took a tentative step further inside the room, grip tightening around the pearls.

“I know.” And as always, his tone was soft and his face was ridden with guilt and worry, and I couldn’t hold back anymore as my mind screamed at me to move towards him, to touch him, to feel him. It was maddening how much I yearned for the stylist, for a man who was from the Capitol, for the first person who had faith in me and encouraged me to never give up, even when the odds seemed to be against my favour. I gulped, licking my lips as I came face to face with him and the need to hold him was strong enough to make me cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes fluttered closed. He exhaled loudly, jaw clenching when I stepped closer, and before he could open his eyes and I would get lost in their depth and warmth, I pressed my lips against his hungrily. I hadn’t given in previously to the want, I feared that if I did so, I would be a dead woman the second the canon went off in the Arena. And I hated myself because I was ridden with regret the whole time, thinking back on what we could’ve had in the few days that I had before the Games. And I hated myself even more for wanting to return because of him, because of San, to hold him and be held, to kiss him and be kissed, to be his if he wanted me too.

His lips felt warm, a little wet as I couldn’t control myself and sped up the kiss, our lips smacking together loudly as San finally touched me, gripping my hip harshly as he yanked my body into his. It felt unreal to be so close to him, to feel his body warmth and to smell his expensive and sweet cologne, to inhale the air he exhaled. His lips were just as eager as mine, parting in invitation and moulding perfectly against mine when I considered pulling back, remembering Joohyun’s words, but San chased after my lips like a starved man, a whine leaving his mouth when I finally caved in and let my tongue press against his tentatively. Something fell to the floor and then I felt San’s other hand hold onto my nape as his tongue lapped at mine, pushing and pulling, exploring my mouth as he held onto me like he was afraid I would disappear, and I could’ve sworn he’d consume my whole being until nothing was left of me. I didn’t want him to let go, I was afraid if he did the door would open and Peacekeepers would yank us away, and tell us that we’d be punished for our actions. But my lungs were on fire and I felt tears prick at my closed eyes and I couldn’t let Mingyu and Hinata’s work go to waste, so with a gentle hand against his exposed chest, I pushed him away, making San gasp.

I gulped, struggling to find my breath as San’s forehead came down against mine, arms moving so that I was in his embrace now. A shuddered breath left my mouth as I clung to him, fingers gripping his coat' tightly at his sides as we remained silent, basking in the other’s warmth and scent, which had become familiar by now.

“I was afraid,” San muttered lowly, gulping as if he had to pause to collect himself, “so afraid I’d lose you.”

I shuddered, the horrors of the Arena still fresh in my mind as I could still see the lifeless faces behind my eyes whenever I closed them. Hands slightly shaking, I blinked my eyes open when it felt like my lungs tried to prevent me from breathing and I looked at San’s perfect face, forever mesmerized by his beauty.

“I fought really hard to come back,” I whispered, my heart clenching when San’s eyes opened, boring into mine sharply, “I wanted to survive so desperately, I—I had to come back to you, I—what had you done to me, San? Why do I want you so badly?”

San gulped, eyebrows furrowing as his jaw clenched again, and I knew I must’ve said the wrong thing because his face became devoid of any emotion, however, his embrace only tightened as he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I was just trying to be supportive, I didn’t mean to make you—care for me.”

“Do you not care for me back?” My voice sounded weak, and I hated the disappointment that followed when San failed to answer me. I nodded wordlessly and untangled my tight grip from San’s coat, trying to step back, but San hadn’t released me yet from his embrace. He looked conflicted like he didn’t know what was right to say at the moment, and I preferred him not to say anything if he was so uncertain.

“I care for you, of course, I do.” His voice was a whisper as he leaned forward, lips brushing against my ear and it made goosebumps appear on my skin, “But it’s dangerous, I shouldn’t care and neither should you.”

I knew this, of course, I did, but I couldn’t help it. Not when he was the reason I stood here, alive and frightened beyond my mind about what the future had in store for me. Joohyun was right, the Games were just starting and I was defenceless in front of an enemy that could destroy me just with simple words.

“Let’s not keep President Snow waiting, hm?” San’s arms disappeared at once from around my body and I shivered, taken aback by the sudden change of temperature as he had an easy smile on his lips, dimple on his cheek. He crouched down and grabbed the fallen pearls, standing in front of me with a professional look on his face. The first time I had seen San he was at the train station, ready to welcome the tributes of District 4 with a wide friendly smile on his lips and a stance that screamed confidence. He was dressed to the nines, in burgundy satin pants and a sheer black blouse tucked in, a cropped fur coat draped around his wide shoulders. His already sharp eyes were accentuated even more by the dark purple smokey eyeshadow and his lips were a burgundy red, matching his pants and his nails, which resembled blood as they were tainted in peculiar patterns. I knew I couldn’t trust the man, he was just a flashy asshole from the Capitol, only here to doll me up and make me look desirable to the public, and probably for his own sadistic tendencies. But I was wrong, San was a soft-spoken and emotional being, eyes expressive even when his face remained blank.

He was the first one to tell me I was stronger than I looked, that he saw the shimmer in my eyes turn into fire when it came to survival. He told me he would bet on me if he could, that he knew I had it in me to become a victor. He said he wasn’t ready to let me go just yet, not when he had never met someone quite like me before. Apparently, my eyes were big and full of wonder, eager to discover more despite my predicament. And the night before the Games, when I couldn’t sleep and felt on the verge of a panic attack, he stumbled through my threshold in a drunken stupor, confessing his adoration for me and his desperate need to have me, to hold me and truly know me. I couldn’t promise him anything, but I told him I’d try to return, that I’d do my best to come back to him, then he broke down crying and as he hiccupped while I held him, I heard him mutter that he’s never seen anyone as radiant and beautiful as me before. And he doomed me from that second on, because all I wanted moving forward was for him to hold me when I returned.

The sheer fabric was sparkly as the beads were sewn into it and it sat loosely around my shoulders, chest and back, stopping just above my stomach. It felt heavy as San walked around me to clip the back together, adjusting it until it sat against the rest of my dress the way it was supposed to. San’s designs were beautiful, I had been sceptical of them at first, but when I realized he didn’t intend to make me something the Capitol would lust over but rather admire, I grew to trust him and thanked him for making me feel beautiful if even for a fleeting moment, “Hold onto me.”

And he offered me his arm as we both faced the door, my hands trembling in fear as San pushed it open, walking us towards the stage with flashing lights, the TV anchor’s voice all of a sudden booming as he spoke into his microphone. He was saying something, but I couldn’t hear it as I felt frozen, holding onto San for stability when Joohyun and the rest of the makeup team appeared next to us. Joohyun’s eyebrows were furrowed when she looked at us and she gently coaxed my fingers away from San’s coat, holding my hand instead as she guided me towards the stage, just to where the backstage wall ended. It caught Caesar Flickerman’s attention and his eyes lit up at once, a high-pitched sound escaping his throat as he faced the audience with eagerness.

“Don’t let them see.” Joohyun’s voice was harsh as she turned her head to look at me, “And remember, you are lucky to be alive, for having been offered this chance to participate in the Games, and you are proud and honoured to be standing on this stage again.”

I took a shaky breath as I nodded my head, Joohyun’s words from this morning still fresh in my mind. The Capitol wasn’t allowed to see the turmoil in my head, the struggle, the fear and the pain which hid just underneath the surface. I had to keep up a strong front, to smile and gloat about my victory as if all the lost lives meant nothing to me, as if killing all those innocent children didn’t bother me at all. My throat tightened and I tried to grip Joohyun’s hand harder, but Caesar was calling out my name and the crowd was roaring loudly, and before I could even think about running back to the dressing room, a warm hand on my lower back pushed me forward.

The lights were blinding and the cheers and claps deafening, and I froze when I felt the TV anchor’s cold fingers graze my arm, run down to my wrist and then hand as he raised it to press a swift kiss against my knuckles as a greeting. I didn’t flinch, and before all the fear could swallow me whole, I plastered a big smile onto my face, laughing gently when Caesar lowered my hand from his face but still held onto it once he noticed I was wearing really high stilettos.

“Oh, my!” He exclaimed as if he was a child who just got their present on their birthday, “You look absolutely gorgeous, Miss Kwon.”

I chuckled and looked away abashed as he led us towards the two fancy armchairs, “Thank you, but it’s mostly thanks to my makeup team and my stylist—”

“Ah, yes!” He exclaimed before I could even finish my sentence, and I was glad I could hold onto his hand for stability because my ankles threatened to give out once I faced the crowd, “Choi San! What a man he is! Everyone loves him, I bet you do too, Miss Kwon?”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, but harmless, and I took my seat once Caesar gesticulated towards it, “Yes, he’s really good at what he does. His creations are breathtaking.”

“Well, yes, he certainly overdid himself with this mermaid but sailor-like outfit,” Caesar took a deep breath before he faced the crowd, smiling so widely that it must’ve hurt, “Don’t you just love it?!”

And the crowd cheered, some even standing up to clap, to stick out more as I tried to continue to smile in a way that looked thankful but also abashed. Caesar was referring to my outfit, but I wished to be invisible at this exact moment. My hands shook but I hid them by interlacing my fingers and lowering them in my lap. Silence finally settled upon the room and I gulped, perhaps too loudly, because Caesar chuckled as he looked back at me amused.

“Well, look at our mermaid—can I call you that?” No, I didn’t want to be called a mermaid, I didn’t want to be associated with a mythical creature that was innocent and pure.

“You can call me whatever you wish,” My voice was warm and dripped with honey, I tried not to look surprised by myself, “I do look like a mermaid, don’t I?”

The crowd cheered again and I let my smile widen as I looked towards them, thankful for the blinding lights as I couldn’t see their faces. The people from the Capitol made me sick with their over-the-top extravaganza and the ease they could live with, I didn’t want to see them.

“Well, Miss Kwon, now that we’ve settled that you are our little mermaid,” Caesar leaned in with a worried expression, lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed, he looked genuine, “Tell us, how do you feel?”

I gulped, suddenly the silence making my skin itch as everyone waited for my answer. I smiled as I tried to look back to where I knew Joohyun stood, but then her words rang through my mind and I leaned back in the chair, trying to look casual, “Well, how am I supposed to feel? I just won the Games, Caesar, and it wasn’t easy. I’m on cloud nine, actually, I got a good night’s sleep and now I’m ready to tackle whatever the Capitol throws my way next.”

“Brilliant!” Caesar shouted, making me flinch, but I laughed as the crowd cheered once again, I could see the camera zoom in on my face, so I made sure my smile was wide and as genuine as possible, “You have a way with your words that just keeps me on my toes, you know, Miss Kwon? I bet the people love it too! Tell us, is there anything you cannot wait to do now that you’re out of the Arena?”

I took a deep breath as I faced the camera, my next words genuine, “I miss my parents and I miss the ocean, so I cannot wait to return home, actually.”

“Ah, yes,” Caesar had a compassionate look on his face as he reached out to pat my hands reassuringly, “District 4 became a richer district thanks to your contribution to their victors’, I bet they can’t wait to meet you.”

“And I cannot wait to meet them too,” I gulped, hoping I sounded genuine to those who were watching us, “I’ve always looked up to our victors, they are strong and brave and they’ve made our District shine every chance they could.”

“And now you are part of them too,” Caesar had a cheeky grin on his face as he mirrored my stance and leaned back into his armchair comfortably, “But before you return, you’ve still got a few days in the Capitol. Aren’t you just excited to meet everyone at the party?”

I was dreading that moment, but I tried to look as enthusiastic as possible as I perked up, sitting up straighter, “Yes! I’ve heard of these parties ever since I was a little girl, I cannot wait to meet everyone. And I’m also overly curious about my outfit too.”

“San will certainly overdo himself again,” Caesar was beaming as he spoke of my stylist, everyone in the Capitol was head over heels for San, “I am so excited to see what he has in store for us, do you reckon he’ll wear something pompous himself?”

I chuckled as my fingers tightened against each other, “Well, when has he not?”

The crowd and Caesar laughed and I smiled too, wanting to glance back to where I knew the team was watching me, but my body felt stiff as suddenly Caesar turned serious, licking his lips as he crossed one leg over the other, “I bet everyone would love it if we talked more about our beloved San, but this day is about you, Miss Kwon, and I have to mention your amazing kills. You have a sharp precision that’s hard to miss and even I was amazed by them, despite having seen many Games before. What’s your secret? I bet no one expected you to pick an axe as your weapon of choice since you are from District 4.”

“I—” I gulped, my body suddenly becoming cold as my mind reeled at the vivid memories flashing behind my eyes. The scent of blood, the vision of tearing flesh and the screams that haunted my nightmares, it was too much. My heart was pumping blood fast and my ears were ringing as the lights became too bright, Caesar's voice seemed distant when he called my name and I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but then I remembered Joohyun’s words and I knew I had to keep it together, it was all for the show, “Well, first of all, thank you, Caesar. I am honoured that you think so highly of my skills, I cannot say I worked hard to gain them, but I did train as much as I could before the Games, you know? My father is a fisherman so I would often help him out with cutting up the fish, I—I just associated the axe with a butcher’s knife.”

“Fascinating.” Caesar's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he paid close attention to my words, and I resisted the itch to scratch at my neck, which felt on fire, “You keep on impressing me every time you speak, you’re truly full of surprises, Miss Kwon, we haven’t had a victor like you quite in a while.”

“You’re too kind.” I averted my eyes and realized they were burning from being too dry, the lights made my head thump and the corset was too tight around my torso, I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Nonsense,” Caesar chuckled and then grinned mischievously, “Before I let you go enjoy your victory, let’s rewatch my favourite kills! They are truly marvellous.”

I gasped quietly as a small screen suddenly appeared in front of us, and Caesar clapped his hands, the lights dimming as the video was played on the big screens behind us as well. My eyes fixated on myself in the video, on the frantic look in my eyes as I grabbed the axe from the Cornucopia and flung it towards the way too young child when he tried to sneak up on me. My jaw clenched and I flinched every time I watched the axe I was gripping tightly make contact with human flesh, drowning out the gasps and cheers of the crowd as well as Caesar's elated yelps whenever I took out someone again. It felt like my own personal hell to watch myself kill someone, to watch the lifeless look in my eyes, the elated expression on my face whenever the canon went off. I was covered in blood, it was matted to my hair, and it had ruined my clothes too, but I failed to notice it as I roamed around aimlessly, eyes cold and crazed as I searched for my next victim. I looked desperate, I had felt desperate, and it made tears gather in my eyes when the footage shifted to my last kill, the one of which I barely had any recollection of, but my body reacted so viscerally that I feared I would empty my stomach’s contents right in front of everyone.

I continued looking at the screen but I wasn’t seeing anything anymore, my brain had given up on my surroundings, on what was happening to me and around me. I was there, merely a shell of who I used to be, and I didn’t want to see even one more second of the monster that slayed everyone without remorse on her face. At last, Caesar finally clapped his hands and the lights were strong again and he was squealing and yelping, but I couldn’t hear anything. I felt hands grip my arm and help me stand, then it was raised in the air and everyone cheered again, people standing up as they clapped loudly for me. Caesar's shrill voice called my name again and announced me as this year's victor, and when it was time for me to finally get off the stage, I turned emotionlessly and gave a last wave to the camera as I tried not to tumble while I walked to where I knew Joohyun stood at.

“And thus, I had been Caesar Flickerman, thank you for your attention and see you really soon, don’t forget to tune in for the Hunger Games’ lotto that I’ll be hosting in just a few hours!” And then my legs finally gave out as a sob tore through my throat, knees shaking as I fell to the cold ground, making everyone gasp as Joohyun sprung towards me, hissing at the staff to bring me a blanket and for the lights to be turned off so that nobody would see us. She called my name but I couldn’t hear her, the dress was suffocating and my face felt heavy with all the makeup on it, I needed to be somewhere far away from here. I gripped the beautiful pearl top and gave it one tug, making it fall apart and spread all over the floor as Hinata and Mingyu gasped, crowding around me. My hands were trying to undo the corset before anyone could react, and then I felt a warm presence behind me grip my arms painfully, shaking me to the point I had to look up in a daze.

San’s face was coated in worry as I exhaled ragged, only now realizing that I was hyperventilating, “Don’t make me wear white—I don’t—San, I don’t want to wear white ever again, please.”

He kneeled in front of me, and with a sharp nod of his head Mingyu and Hinata were gone, only Joohyun remaining close by with the blanket in her hands, eyebrows furrowed and gaze sharp as she watched San collect me in his arms, “I know, my love, no more white. I promise. “

I couldn’t bear to see something so innocent and pure get tainted by blood again.

            Being at the Victor’s Party was possibly as bad as being forced inside the Arena. It was filled to the brim with pompous Capitol people who drank until they couldn’t stand on their feet anymore, eating until they had to throw up just to eat some more. Their voices were loud and they were constantly laughing, clinking their glasses together and asking me to exchange quick words with them, which would turn into an excruciatingly long conversation that made my skin itch and my disgust show as I struggled to control my facial expressions. I wanted to go home, I couldn’t stay any longer in this wretched place, and I could’ve cried in happiness when I noticed Finnick Odair, District 4’s youngest victor, approach me with a charming smile. He was, surprisingly, covered from head to toe, his dark blue suit tailored to his body, enhancing his sun-kissed complex, his blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He looked handsome and he knew it as he carried himself with a confident aura, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips always pulled to the side into a smirk or an amused grin. I had never spoken to him before, but he was a very popular victor and so I knew him from seeing him from time to time on the TV or at the market back in District 4.

“My, my, my,” Finnick’s tone was amused as he came to a stop next to me, towering over me, much like San, “you’re hounding our victor and you aren’t even ashamed of it.”

As if Finnick had just said the joke of the year, the five people surrounding us broke out in loud laughter, throwing their heads back as Finnick threw me a sneaky glance. It wasn’t hard to miss the irritation he managed to mask well in that split second and I felt myself relax for being seen, for being understood by such an important person. I would’ve never guessed Finnick hated the Capitol just as much as any other person from the districts, but it was reassuring to know he wasn’t so different from us after all.

“If only they were just hounding me,” I muttered bitterly as the other five were still busy giggling behind their champagne glasses, my eyes fell on Finnick, “and not asking me to bed them as well.”

Finnick’s jaw ticked but he didn’t react to my comment as his smile became wider when the lady standing next to him touched his arm, Finnick gave her a flirtatious look. Her eyelashes were unnaturally long and she reeked of alcohol, her lips pink and way too plump, but Finnick didn’t flinch away, instead he reciprocated her flirty look, “I hadn’t seen you in a while, Odair.”

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He said with sadness in his tone, and I watched him curiously as the lady rubbed his bicep for a second too long.

“Are you free tonight?” Finnick’s smile stayed in place as he pretended to think, then leaned closer to the lady and lowered his voice.

“I might be,” The lady’s cheeks flushed instantly as she averted her eyes, “Have you missed me a lot?”

“Yes, so much.” She bit her lower lip provocatively and I averted my eyes as I felt bile rise in my throat. My empty glass was suddenly snatched from my hands and replaced with another one filled to the brim with champagne, and I tried to hide my nausea at the thought of having to drink another sip of that bitter liquid.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, then,” Finnick concluded before his attention was on the men around us, greeting them with handshakes and letting them touch his cheek, making me give them a weird look. They were eager to ask questions from Finnick, but he politely turned them down and instead sneaked his arm around my bare shoulders, pulling me into his side with a cheeky grin.

“I’m sure you’d all understand if I stole Miss Kwon away, right?” His eyebrows furrowed in hesitance, and I was amazed by his acting skills, “We never got the chance to speak properly, I’d like to show her around as her elder from the District.”

“Yes, go ahead!” The people exclaimed and even pushed us away, not before one man grabbed my hands and pressed a disgustingly wet kiss against my knuckles, his teeth yellow despite his fancy way of living, his eyes filled with lust as they raked over my body. I pretended I didn’t see as I gripped Finnick’s arm and allowed him to lead us away, somewhere quieter, he took my glass of champagne away too and threw it in the trashcan, surprising me.

“Never drink anything they hand you,” His voice was low so that no one would hear, his perfectly charming smile still on his lips. I tried my best to look just like him, at ease with a flirty smile on my lips, “You can drink what you take from a tray or table, but never what they hand you, understood?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said with a grateful smile as I turned my head to face him, wanting to ask so much more, but I knew now wasn’t the time or place. We’d have plenty of time back in District 4, “And thank you for saving me, I didn’t know what excuse to come up with to get away from them finally.”

“Never say you’re going to the bathroom either,” Finnick smiled widely at someone who waved at him from the crowd as we came to a standstill next to a white pillar, “They find it as an invitation to go somewhere secluded with you, and you don’t want that.”

“I really don’t,” I sighed frustrated as my scalp itched from how tight the braids Hinata had done were, “Thank you, Finnick, really.”

He finally looked at me with a knowing look on his face, his charming smile finally dropping as his eyes hardened. He looked tired and fed-up, but his voice remained soft and careful, “I’ll protect you as much as I can, just as Joohyun has been doing, but even we are powerless at times, I’m sorry. Another friendly advice, however, is if you want to ditch someone here, just say you saw someone you know and take off before they can speak up. They won’t follow you, they are too lazy to do that.”

“Do you enjoy these parties?” The question bubbled past my lips before I could stop myself and I averted my eyes when Finnick’s filled with amusement, a dimple forming on his cheek when he smiled genuinely for the first time. He reminded me of San, Finnick’s smile was beautiful too but never to San’s extent. San was here too somewhere, swept up in the crowd, with the people he belonged to. His outfit was revealing, all black and fitting his body like a second skin. I felt like I couldn’t look at him when we met, feeling like I was sinning just by letting him lace up my dress. He had listened to my request, my dress was a dark blue, much like Finnick’s suit, and the fabric bunched under my knees into ruffles, fading into ivory to resemble the foam of the ocean. It was beautiful, San had said this style was called ‘mermaid’ as he wished to play into the crowd's likes. Apparently, President Snow had also told him to make me wear a dress that fit the nickname Flickerman had given me, and I was nervous when I found out about this. Joohyun’s face was stern and her eyes a silent warning when we arrived at the scene, one nod of her head was enough to tell me to watch myself and not to cause a scene.

I was doing fine so far, it got hard at times and all I wished for was to hide and go to bed, but I was doing better than I thought I would. I managed not to hyperventilate nor sob when a couple approached me and asked me to reenact one of the kills I had done in the Arena, apparently, it was their son’s favourite from this season. Schooling my expressions was the hardest, I managed not to throw up once they finished talking, but I couldn’t help but glower at them with disgust, managing to scare them off when I showed them just exactly what they wanted to see. Apparently, it wasn’t so entertaining to watch someone kill another when they were standing right in front of you, gripping a knife with a twisted look on their face. The hypocrisy these people lived with flew past my mind as I was unable to understand or relate to them.

“I loathe these parties, Y/N, everything you see on TV,” Finnick paused for a dramatic effect as he leaned towards me, eyes wide, “if fake. You’ll learn with time how to manage everything, but it’ll never get easy.”

“I should’ve died in that Arena,” I whispered under my breath, watching pity reflect on Finnick’s face as he released a long sigh.

“Maybe we all should’ve, but think about your family.” I felt a hand grip my shoulder, so I looked up at Finnick, “They are happy and glad to have you back, so even if we should be dead, knowing you’ll be able to see them again should bring a little joy while you’re cooped up in the Capitol.”

“I am happy, as much as I can be at the moment.” I said with conviction, “But I’m a monster now, and I don’t think they are ready to face me yet. I’m not—I don’t feel like I’m the same person anymore.”

“Because you’re not.” Finnick’s tone was hard but harmless at the same time. His eyes were void of any emotion, he seemed absent from the conversation as his hand fell from my shoulder, “You’ll never be the person you were before you stepped foot into the Arena, and you’ll have to learn to accept it. We might be monsters, but don’t forget the biggest one out of all of us.”

I gulped, not missing the implication of Finnick’s words. President Coriolanus Snow. He was the biggest monster, our biggest enemy, a tyrant who only took and took from the Districts without giving anything back, who tried to make the Capitol flourish despite the blood on their hands. It was unfair, but who was I to make a change? I was too insignificant to start a spark for which the people from the districts were desperately waiting.

“Hello,” Both Finnick and I tensed as a deep voice spoke up behind us, a little bit hesitant, “Sorry to bother you, President Snow asked me to fetch the new victor…”

Finnick and I turned our heads, coming face to face with a man who was taller than even Finnick. He towered over the both of us, skin ashen and cheeks hollow as his small and sharp eyes were obscured by his black hair falling over his forehead. His shoulders were hunched forward and the skin of his neck was red where the collar of his white shirt ended. I knew him, I saw him on the TV last year. He killed his own district’s female tribute to win.

“Ah, Mingi!” Finnick, springing forward and hugging the man as he ignored the other victor’s clear discomfort, was beaming all of a sudden, “I had been wondering all night long where you were hiding now.”

I watched the two as Mingi looked down at his shoes, not attempting to step out of Finnick’s side hug, “The bathroom was cramped so I found a nice balcony—until Snow found me, of course.”

“Oh, no,” Finnick whispered, lips pulled into a tight line, “did he say anything?”

“Nothing bad, surprisingly.” Mingi shrugged and looked relieved when Finnick finally released him, “Just inquired about my well-being and—her.”

“I see.” Finnick’s voice was compassionate and my eyebrows furrowed as I didn’t quite understand what they were talking about, but I realised it wasn’t my place to pry. Eyes falling on me, I tried to smile at the tall man but he looked like he wanted to die, and it made me anxious as I didn’t know how to approach him, “Well, I’ll leave you two be. See you around, yes?”

“Yes,” Mingi muttered as Finnick nodded at me before he slipped away, leaving the other man and me in an uncomfortable silence.

“I’m Kwon Y/N, pleased to meet you.” I offered a hand for the man to shake and he reluctantly did, his handshake surprisingly firm despite his tame behaviour.

“I’m Song Mingi, you—you did well, I’m sorry.” His words were confusing but they made complete sense somehow, and I felt tears prick at my eyes all of a sudden. But I couldn’t let them fall, not right as I was about to meet President Snow, and Mingyu worked for two hours on my makeup.

“Thank you,” My voice was hoarse and Mingi looked at my face for the first time, surprised, “I did my best even though I wish I hadn’t.”

Understanding passed over Mingi’s features as he nodded once, then pointed reluctantly towards the stairs I failed to notice when Finnick and I had stopped next to the pillar, “You shouldn’t keep President Snow waiting.”

I nodded and followed after Mingi as his long legs took hurried steps, making me have to run to catch up with him on the stairs, but I remained silent as I realized he wasn’t much of a talker. He looked like he didn’t want to hide the turmoil going on inside his mind, and I admired him for it as he wasn’t afraid of what the people would think. I wanted to do the same, but Joohyun instructed me against it, telling me that if the Capitol didn’t find me desirable, I’d be thrown to the side, and that never meant good. I wondered whether Mingi had been thrown to the side too, but seeing him here made me realize I had heard people whisper about him while I was forced to mingle with them.

“Is he—do you think he’ll punish me?” I found myself asking as Mingi led us down a long corridor with plenty of doors on both sides.

“Did you do anything bad?” He asked as he glanced over his shoulder. I bit my lip and shrugged.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then no, he won’t.” Mingi’s answer was curt and it felt like he wanted to say more, but he abruptly stopped in front of a door and sighed heavily, “This is President Snow’s office, I’ll wait for you here.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know.” For the first time, Mingi looked in my eyes with concern coating his features, and I gulped as I stepped forward and knocked on the sturdy wooden door. If Mingi didn’t want to leave me, I wouldn’t ask him to, too scared that I wouldn’t leave Snow’s office ever again. At least one person knew where I was if anything were to happen to me. The door opened before I could push it open and my muscles tensed as I took a deep breath and pushed it further open, stepping inside. It was cool inside the office and my mind blanched at the avid stench of blood in the air, I tried to keep my composure and my heart from racing. My skin itched when President Snow’s lips pulled into an amused grin, beckoning me further inside with his hand. The door closed behind me and I jumped, glancing back and wishing Mingi would’ve entered with me.

“Miss Kwon,” President Snow smiled, flattening his hands on the surface of his table. The colour matched the door’s, “Congratulations on becoming a victor, you’ve certainly done your utmost best. You’ve impressed quite a few people here.”

“Thank you, President Snow.” I bowed my head respectfully, glad that my voice didn’t waver like every particle of my body did. I pushed my hands behind my back to hide their tremor and looked into President Snow’s dark eyes.

“How do you find the Capitol, little mermaid?” I hated that nickname and it was probably easy to tell as President Snow chuckled, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly. His office was huge, bookshelves lined the walls to my left and right and the lights were dim despite it being dark outside. A vase of white roses sat in the corner on top of Snow’s desk, and I didn’t miss the one tucked in his suit’s pocket.

“It’s—different.” I gulped, trying to sound nonchalant, “It’s big and beautiful, full of life, I suppose.”

“But you miss District 4, yes?” Snow quirked an eyebrow, expression turning serious. I nodded wordlessly and he hummed, looking sideways and out the window. The partygoers were visible from here and as I followed his line of sight my eyes widened slightly when I spotted San, who was leaning into a velvet cushion as hands roamed his chest, a silver cross dangling between his pecks. Everyone seemed to be taken with him as he laughed and drank champagne, smirking with a flirtatious look on his sharp features at both men and women alike, “And you wish to still return home, don’t you?”

I gulped and tore my eyes away from the sight, freezing with President Snow’s eyes fixated on me with a curious glint in them, “Yes, I would really like to return home. I miss the ocean and my parents.”

“And you won’t miss anything from the Capitol?”

What was I supposed to say? Was this a trap? I gulped and cleared my throat, scavenging my brain for an answer.

“Maybe—the pretty dresses?” President Snow’s head fell back as he started laughing, eyes holding an amused twinkle when he looked back at me.

“And not the one that makes those dresses?” I felt my blood run cold as President Snow had a knowing smile on his lips as he leaned forward in his chair, arms coming to rest on his table.

“I—I’ll miss Hinata and Mingyu, and San—San too, of course.” I hated how vulnerable I sounded, my voice weak and shaky, “They were my team and they—they made me pretty, so I—”

“Miss Kwon,” President Snow’s tone was tired and low as he interrupted my pitiful stammering, “People like Mr. Choi and you don’t belong together. He was born here and you were not, if you can bear heartbreak then I have nothing else to say, but look at him. Don’t you think you’ll never be enough for him? That he’ll always see you as a dirty little thing from a fishing district that reeks of seafood?”

I gulped, throat constricting as tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn’t turn my head, I couldn’t look at San again. President Snow was right, I had always known this, I had never even thought further about whatever could be between us. I knew this, but hearing the words said out loud only made it sting more, “Get yourself together, Miss Kwon. You’re a smart girl and if you know what’s best for you, forget about Mr. Choi now. You know it’ll never happen, and if you don’t want to believe it, then let me tell you this. I’ll never allow it, Miss Kwon, you can’t have Mr. Choi, he’s mine and the Capitol’s.”

I exhaled forcefully and bit my tongue as I looked up, blinking away the tears rapidly as my jaw clenched, “You can’t own a person, President Snow.”

“Can’t I?” He snickered as he leaned back in his chair once again, “Speak to Finnick Odair again, perhaps, ask more questions this time. I’m sure he has lots of tales about me and the Capitol. Or perhaps you could tell Mr. Song that the fence he likes to climb could be re-electrified any second—”

“Why are you threatening others when this is about me?!” My voice raised as my eyebrows furrowed and President Snow smiled, tapping his cheek as he grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Because it’s not just about you, Miss Kwon, it’s about everything I own.” A cough ripped through President Snow’s chest, and I watched with furrowed eyebrows as he pressed the white handkerchief against his mouth. Was it possible for him to catch a cold? He was still human, after all, “And you, victors, are my propriety. I can do whatever to you, whenever I want to. And you are not to see Mr. Choi after tonight ever again, do you understand me?”

My body went rigid and I gulped, the voices in my head screaming at me to grab a pencil and stab him through the neck, to end the man’s life who has caused so much anguish to all of us. My heart pumped fast and my hands shook as anger seemed to flame underneath my skin and I gulped, trying to clear the red fog inside my brain, the insatiable thirst to get rid of the person that was such a threat to not just me, but everyone. But it also scared me how violently I would react now, how my first thought at a little inconvenience was to kill—this wasn’t me. The me before the Games would’ve never resorted to murder, and it scared me to the point I felt my breaths turn uneven as President Snow’s eyes continued to bore into mine curiously, a wondering expression crossing his features. My throat was tight as I opened my lips to speak, and I clenched my hands into fists as I raised my head higher and looked into the man’s eyes, “I understand.”

And whatever he seemed on my face must’ve been satisfying enough because with a flick of his wrist, he dismissed me, and I turned without any respect or pleasantries as I stormed towards the door and ripped it open, letting it slam behind me. I stepped into the corridor, male voices fading into silence as my chest raised and fell rapidly, my hands shaking as I stared ahead and out the big windows, eyes fixated on San as he leaned towards a red-head and whispered in her ear, making her giggle and lean into him, a hand placed high on his thigh.

“Y/N?” An unfamiliar voice snapped me out of my thoughts as I sharply turned my head, eyes falling on the man standing next to Mingi. He was taller, just barely, and his features were soft and cautious as he tried to offer me a smile, “Uh, sorry, I’m Jeong Yunho, Mingi said he’d wait for you so I did too.”

Mingi remained silent as he looked between us and I took a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, to forget everything President Snow had just said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to storm out like that, I—the conversation was rather unpleasant.”

“Yes, it usually is with him.” Yunho said with a chuckle and grabbed Mingi’s arm as he nodded towards the end of the corridor, “But I don’t think we should discuss that here out of all places.”

That managed to bring a small smile to my lips and I nodded in agreement as I turned to head down the corridor. The two men caught up with me and walked next to me with Yunho in the middle.

“The whole place is full of cameras, Yunho, it doesn’t matter where we talk about it,” Mingi grumbled and Yunho shrugged, glancing at me.

“Well, yes, but I think Snow finds it more exciting if we talk about him ‘behind his back’, you know?” His tone was amused and I felt my tense muscles ease a little as we started descending the stairs. Something about Yunho was calming, he had an air about him which made you feel at ease. I was glad he was here even though I had no idea who he was minutes ago. His Games weren’t as popular as the other ones so people tended to gloss over him, even though now I could recall them.

“Thank you for waiting for me, you didn’t have to,” I spoke up as we arrived at the bottom of the stairs and the two tall men faced me with smiles on their faces. Mingi’s was miniscule but it was there as Yunho just shrugged and threw an arm around the other one, and I watched with surprise as Mingi didn’t flinch nor look uncomfortable with the touch. They seemed to be familiar with each other.

“Sure, it was no biggie.” The way Yunho spoke wasn’t familiar, but I welcomed it as his whole persona felt safe and friendly, “If you want a good hiding spot, you’ll find Mingi and me behind the sweets table.”

Mingi rolled his eyes but didn’t interject and only nodded, eyes lowering, “Yunho has a sweet tooth, but it’s a surprisingly good hiding spot. Everyone is too busy looking at all the delicacies to notice us.”

I chuckled and nodded, grateful for their friendliness and offer of a good hiding spot, I happened to also have a sweet tooth, “Thank you, I might as well just go now and—”

“Excuse me,” A voice I knew too well spoke up from behind me and I stiffened, eyes averting when Mingi and Yunho shared a look, “Do you mind if I steal Miss Kwon for a dance?”

“Not at all!” Yunho said beaming and patted Mingi’s back before they both bowed their heads and hurried away, Yunho whispering to Mingi furiously as Mingi just shook his head. I let my eyes follow the two until I couldn’t see them anymore, Snow’s words echoing in my mind when I felt a gentle hand wrap around my bicep. I flinched and then hated the look of hurt and confusion on San’s face as he turned me around to face him, lowering his head as I avoided looking into his eyes.

“Talk to me, Y/N, what happened?” He whispered softly and my jaw clenched, skin burning where he touched me. I yearned to hold him, to step closer and close the gap between our bodies, but Snow was watching. Everyone was watching.

“Nothing.” I lied and finally looked into San’s sharp eyes which were filled with worry. His hand slowly slipped from my bicep, tracing my skin, and I shivered as he found my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. I refrained from pulling away, Joohyun’s warning echoing in my head, I couldn’t cause a scene. Not here and not right now.

“Will you dance with me?”

“Yes.”

When I was with San it felt like the world disappeared around us, like nobody but him and I existed. It was a peaceful feeling, but also frightening. I could lose myself in his eyes and then I would lose track of everything around myself. It was daunting, but also a feeling which filled me with hope and warmth, making my heart beat faster. I couldn’t focus on the crowd as San walked us towards the orchestra, couples dancing all around as they laughed and conversed, paying little attention to San’s and my presence. My skin flared when San smiled softly and gently held my waist, guiding me closer to his broad body, his features relaxed despite my own tense muscles. Even though I couldn’t peel my eyes off him, I was rather aware of all the people that surrounded us, of the whispers and pointed fingers towards us. I suppose dancing with your stylist wasn’t a foreign thing to do, but said stylist was Choi San, of course, the whole world watched on curiously, making assumptions and pointing fingers.

“Focus on me, my love.” San’s voice was barely a whisper, mindful of all the eager ears surrounding us as a couple came rather close. I couldn’t nod but I offered him my hand as I placed my other one on his shoulder, his sheer shirt’s fabric rough against my skin. He held me firmly as a soft smile appeared on his lips, feet taking off as he led the dance, whirling me around with an ease that surprised even me. People made way for us as I stared up into San’s eyes, my heart thumping so fast it felt like I was on the verge of fainting. But I knew I wasn’t, I was aware that I felt like this because of San, because he was here, looking at me deeply with a gentle smile on his lips, ignoring everyone else around us, holding me close as if he was afraid I’d disappear if he didn’t. His cologne was sweet and had become a familiar scent by now, I couldn’t help but lower my head until I was able to inhale it, muscles finally softening as the ringing of my ears finally ceased too and I could focus on the tune of the classical music.

“Where had you gone to? I couldn’t find you.” San’s deep voice carried a hint of worry, and I took a quick look around before looking back up into his eyes.

“President Snow requested to see me,” I answered, bile rising in my throat as suddenly I felt like a jester, here to parade myself around with someone whom I didn’t belong with. President Snow was right. It was clear as day that San and I had nothing in common, that San could never love a person like me. His skin was soft and free of blemish, he smelled sweet like honey and vanilla, and his clothes were of the finest quality. I, on the other hand, had unruly hair and skin that was neither soft nor scar-free, and my clothes looked like they had seen better days. But tonight, due to San’s immense talent, I felt like a princess, like someone worthy to stand in front of him even if it wasn’t real. I failed to notice the quick flash of fear on San’s face as I was lost in my thoughts, but then a squeeze to my waist and a chuckled apology as we almost collided into a couple brought me back to the present.

“Did he say something that felt threatening?” San asked with an amused chuckle, eyebrows slightly furrowed. There was nothing funny about what he had just asked and I knew he realized that when my jaw clenched, and I turned my head away to gaze at the couples around us. Unfortunately, President Snow was out on his balcony, watching the party closely, and our eyes met. The breath caught in my throat and I averted my eyes quickly, looking back at San as I felt myself press harder against him. It was irrational how quickly fear spread through my body, the desperation to keep San close at all costs back, and my fingers fisted his shirt as my eyes shook.

“He—he—San—” And San’s expression fell when he realized his words were true, and his face lowered as he looked at me with panic written all over his features, “He knows, San, President Snow knows that we—he knows.”

I couldn’t say it, my hands shook and my throat felt tight as I tried to take deep breaths. It felt like everyone was watching us, like everyone had a vicious grin on their lips and had their fingers pointed at us, taunting us with words that never left their mouths but my brain didn’t fail to conjure them up still. San made a sudden move and whirled us around so my back was facing President Snow, then, almost with a scowl on his face, he raised his head and stared up. My irrational fear only grew as I whispered his name, afraid of what he’d do next, knowing that President Snow would do something bad to perhaps the both of us. But San just grinned, wide from ear to ear, and then nodded his head in Snow’s direction, almost tauntingly.

“I know that he knows,” His tone was harsh as he looked back down at me and stopped moving, his hand creeping lower until it pressed against my lower back harshly, “And I don’t give a fuck, because if he as much as touches me, the Capitol will turn against him.”

“What about me?” I whispered, aware of how beloved San was by everyone here. But I wasn’t, despite being a victor, I’ll always be just a girl from District 4 from a fisher family.

“If anyone damages anything precious to me, I’ll destroy them.” San’s jaw was set tight as he lowered his head, and for a second, I was afraid he’d kiss me. But his hand slipped from mine and instead, he curled a stray strand around his finger before he pushed it behind my ear, fingers brushing against my jaw as he smiled at me softly, “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Nobody is safe from him, San,” I whispered as San’s face fell, eyes darkening as he averted them and started moving again, albeit paying less attention to those around us. And I couldn’t help but glance back and find President Snow’s eyes narrowed at us before he cocked an eyebrow, making my heart race against my chest as I gulped and faced ahead again, eyes meeting Joohyun’s. She looked displeased as she subtly shook her head at me, and then her cold eyes fell on Yunho as he offered to dance with her, she didn’t turn him down.

We were all just Snow’s pawns, figures on his chessboard he played with when he got too bored of those in his vicinity.

            The bare trees seemed endless as I weaved through between them, frostbite chilling my bones as my thick jacket was undone and the zipper of my sweater was unzipped too, making my chest ache from both the cold and exhaustion. My hiding spot had been discovered when I foolishly fell asleep last night by the small fire I managed to conjure, teeth chattering and fingertips numb to the point I had tears streaking down my face, wondering whether I’d survive another night in the Arena. If the other tributes didn’t get me, then the relenting cold certainly would. And now, in the early hours of the morning with dawn upon the fake horizon, all I could do was flee and pray for a miracle as my pursuers howled and continued taunting me as they sprinted after me, gaining on me each minute.

The axe was heavy in my hand as my feet tangled in the dry weed of the forest floor and I yelped as I slipped and nearly tumbled to the ground, straight into my axe. My heart was thundering in my chest as I gasped for air, whimpering when I realized my mistake as I frantically looked for a hiding spot. Anything would’ve been good at this point, a cave, a fallen lodge big enough to hide my body, or even a tree that I could climb. Being from District 4, where it was always warm and the only thing I had to climb were the ropes of a ship to reach the mizenmast, I was at a great disadvantage compared to the districts that came from familiar scenery. The cold seemed to be the most unbearable thing out of everything, covering my body in constant goosebumps as I yearned for the warmth of the sun and the breeze of the ocean. Each day that passed, however long or short due to the Gamemakers' choices, felt like I was living in hell, feeling like it would never end.

I didn’t consider myself a religious person, but I found myself praying for something, asking for salvation, if there was anyone out there listening to me. And it felt wrong, especially when I had to fight for my life, to think of the one man that’s been plaguing my thoughts ever since I had met him, but if there was a god, I knew it would be him. My eyes fell on a tree large enough to offer shelter and I quickly hid behind its trunk as my chasers gained on me, their mocking louder and louder. My chest was rising and falling rapidly, my hands shook uncontrollably, and my face felt frozen despite the adrenaline that kept my blood fizzling, my cheeks burning from both the biting chill and the fear that coursed through my veins. With numb fingers, I managed to zip my sweater together and felt instant relief even at the little warmth it offered for my exposed chest, but then the voices got louder and I froze, pressing my free hand against my mouth to try and be as quiet as possible as I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Where are you, little fish?” The male voice was amused as it taunted, soft in a way that made me sick to my stomach. I bit my bottom lip to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave it, terrified now that the three career tributes had closed in on me. They were right there, somewhere behind the tree I hid by, “Come on out now, don’t make us look for you.”

“Yes, fishy, we just want to talk.” Despite the warm timbre of the female tribute, my muscles cramped up and my mind screamed at me to take off running again. But they were too close and one of them had throwing knives, I couldn’t outrun three people, not when they had a male with them who was twice my size.

“You are a career tribute too,” The third voice, harsh and impatient, spat out, “so why are you running? We’ve been in the Games for four days now and we’ve been looking for you, but you keep running!”

I gulped, trying to take deep breaths as quietly as possible as my grip tightened around the handle of my axe. They had stopped moving too and were no doubt trying to spot me, and suddenly I was thankful for having a smaller build despite being someone who worked on a ship on the daily. My parents had always wanted a boy who could help out my father and take on the family legacy, and instead, they had a small girl who cried too much and whose skin bruised too easily. But I didn’t want to disappoint them, so I steeled my nerves and went out on the ocean with my father, learning everything I had in order to become a good fisherman. It was hard, and sometimes too demanding for someone who lacked muscle and sheer force, but it taught me that nothing was impossible as long as you had your mind set to it. And when I had been reaped as a tribute for the 73rd Hunger Games, all I could think about was the ocean and how I wasn’t ready to die just yet, not when I hadn’t even fallen in love yet. I had too much to lose yet nothing at all, and when the stylist assigned for my district looked at me with sharp eyes but a simple smile and told me that I could do it, that I could come back to him, that he trusted me and believed in me, some sick and twisted part of me clung to his words like they were my own personal prayer, as if it would save me from my fate, from doom, and the Arena that would kill twenty-three innocent lives.

“We want you on our team, little fish, your score wasn’t impressive but I saw you kill that little boy at the Cornucopia, we know you’re strong.” The male tribute spoke up again, making me inhale as I contemplated my next move, knowing that I just signed myself up for my death.

With a sharp exhale I knew they have heard me, I disclosed my hiding spot willingly, “Fuck you.”

And the next thing I knew was a throwing knife lodged into the bark of the tree, close to my ear as my eyes widened, but the simmering rage was back underneath my skin, making my blood boil as it overshadowed my terror. I wanted to live, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to go home, I wanted to hug my mother and help my father again, I wanted to swim in the ocean and I wanted—I wanted to see San again, I wanted to return to him. I wasted no more seconds as I gripped the handle of the throwing knife again and yanked it out of the tree, twisting around the trunk and sending it hurling mindlessly. I didn’t wait for another reaction as I took off again, thighs burning from exertion and knees aching as the soles of my feet hit the ground with force, propelling me forward more and more. I wouldn’t stop, I wouldn’t look back. More howls and screams followed after me, instructions barked out as the three tributes chased after me, but I wouldn’t stop, I wouldn’t look back. There was a bridge that looked too old not far from here, my only hope lay in that bridge, that it would collapse under their weights if I managed to outrun them and not fall to my death with them.

But at the next turn, a sharp pain shot up from my left calf and I yelped, losing my footing as I tumbled to the ground, twisting and rolling until I hit the side of a boulder. White mist left my mouth as I breathed through it, my axe had fallen somewhere next to me as pain spread through my spine, my left calf pulsing. I dared take a glance at it and sucked in a harsh breath when I realized a throwing knife was lodged deeply into it. I was bleeding, it made my hands shake as I grabbed the handle and bit down on my bottom lip, yanking it out at once before I could chicken out. My pursuers were suddenly around me, surrounding me with wicked grins on their faces and I grit my teeth, looking them dead in the eyes as my fingers tightened around the handle of the throwing knife that didn’t belong to me.

“Sweet girl, what are you going to do now?” The female with a harsh tone, a tribute from District 2, sneered and took a taunting step toward me, “Didn’t they tell you fishes out of water die?”

I scoffed, unamused and pained as my left side ached where I had hit the boulder, but I lifted my chin and surveyed her face, looking for a flicker of regret, but when I found none, I made up my mind for good this time. Fishing gave you a certain precision, you had to know when to throw the net in the water, when to yank it up, where to cut and how to clean the fish of its scales, it was all about timing and making it quick. So, without wasting any more minutes, I rose to my knees as I flung the throwing knife towards the tribute from District 2 and watched as she blinked at me with confusion written all over her face, eyes slowly looking up to her forehead as the knife was lodged perfectly in the middle of it, a scream dying on her lips as she fell forward with a hollow look on her face. Nobody moved and nobody said anything as my chest fell and raised quickly, my pants loud as the male tribute watched with an open mouth, the whisper of her name leaving his lips as the other female screamed out in rage, her eyes furious as she pounced on me without a second of hesitation.

I groaned as my head hit the ground when she pushed me down, and despite having all those weapons on her, her hands curled around my neck in a deathly grip, making my eyes widen as my fingers curled around her wrists, trying to pry them off. The male tribute was saying something behind us, but I couldn’t focus on him as I realized just how quickly the air was leaving my lungs, my body thrashing around as I tried to force the female off me. It wasn’t working and my throat felt like it would be snapped in two as I tried to gasp for air, eyes bulging as the female tribute looked at me with spite, saliva coating her lips as her face was red from the brute force she was using. I couldn’t die, no, I hadn’t gotten this far just to die at the hands of a career tribute. I was desperate too to survive, just like them, but I didn’t taunt those I killed, I didn’t chase them around and mocked them before I finally put them out of their misery. They didn’t deserve kindness or mercy, and I wasn’t going to give it to them.

One hand abandoning the girl’s wrist, my fingers twisted into the hair that was on the side of her head and despite the black spots covering my vision, I mustered up all my power to push her head to the side, crashing it against the boulder. She gasped loudly and her grip around my throat weakened for a minuscule second, I wasted no more time as I yanked her head away and then slammed it back against the boulder, gasping loudly as the air scraped the back of my throat and sent me into a vicious coughing fit, my eyes watering when the tribute’s hands loosened even more. The aggressive air flow made my lungs ache as I coughed even louder, finding more power in my body as I could finally breathe, and I slammed the girl’s head into the boulder once again before pushing her limp body off me. The canon went off two times as I lay on the ground numbly, staring up at the fake sky as I tried to breathe even again, craving water to wash the burn down in my throat.

But if the canon only went off twice, it meant the male tribute was still alive, and as my head snapped up to look for him, his teary eyes fell on me before they steeled, becoming cold and void of emotion. Realizing I couldn’t do anything now but fight, I sprung to my feet despite the state of my body, despite my desperate need to succumb to nothingness. And when my fingers touched the handle of my axe and its familiar weight settled in my hands, reminding me where I was and who I was, my eyes fell on the male tribute with hatred and spite as I staggered on my feet, watching as he also grabbed his weapon. It was shorter than a sword but longer than a knife, and I gulped but didn’t let it deter me. Not even when he came running towards me and I had to dodge his raised arm last minute, realizing frantically how small and easily disposable I was against him.

And as desperation grabbed at my throat, my body shaking in terror but determination as well, I realized something. I wanted to live, I wanted to survive and I wanted to return home, but not to District 4, no, into the arms of the man I had fallen for in the few days I had been at the Capitol, the man who made me look beautiful and desirable for the first time in my life, the man who believed me and begged me to do my best and return to him. I wanted to live for Choi San and I wanted to know what his lips felt like pressed against mine, what his cologne smelled like, and what being wrapped in his big, but comforting, arms felt like. My emotions were conflicting, I wanted to hate him, to curse his name and scream at him—he was from the Capitol, part of the reason why I was forced to live my life in fear each year The Reaping came around, ultimately falling victim for their wicked games—I knew we didn’t belong together, it was shameful to fall for a man like him, but at the same time I couldn’t help but recall the tenderness in his eyes, in his touch, in his words, and I’ve never felt safer, freer and happier.

I wanted to see San again.

With a memory that was hazy and a numb mind, I only came to it when I heard the third canon go off, warm blood dripping from my hands and face, stench unbearable as I crumbled next to the dead body and heaved for air, bile rising in my throat as I vomited whatever little my body had inside my stomach. And I cried as I dragged myself away from the gruesome scene, now four innocent lives hanging over my head, their deaths bloodying my hands and forever burned inside my memories, a weight I could never get rid of. We were all victims in a greater game, and all we could do was endure and continue living, if not for ourselves, then for the lives we had taken.

            Now that the moment I had been waiting for came, I wasn’t so enthusiastic about it anymore. I wanted to go home, of course, I did, but going home meant not seeing San until the next Hunger Games. It meant being separated from the man I had grown attached to in an alarmingly short time, the only man who’d ever managed to make my heart beat faster. I didn’t understand what part of San made me so enraptured with him, and no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure it out. It made no sense, it felt twisted and somehow sick too, shameful, but I couldn’t stop myself as my eyes found his, my whole being feeling alive when a small dimpled smile appeared on his face. The makeup team was here to say their last goodbyes and the vast train felt empty without the male tribute I had arrived with. It felt colder and scarier than on our arrival, and I didn’t want to go, not yet. I needed more days, perhaps even weeks, with San. But President Snow’s words were ever present in the back of my mind and his threats frightened me. I knew I had no choice but to live a lowkey life if I wanted my loved ones safe.

“Ah, I always hate this part,” Mingyu said with a sigh, his face fallen, “but we’ll see each other soon, no?”

“For the Victory Tour.” San’s voice was smooth and emotionless, but I noticed the way his eyes didn’t move on from me, the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed with every gulp he took.

“Which will be next month.” Joohyun’s sharp voice cut through as she looked between San and me, her jaw set tight. Hinata just sighed and turned towards my mentor with a sullen face, and to my surprise, Joohyun opened her arms and beckoned her over for a hug.

“Take care,” She said quietly as Hinata stepped back, a tear rolling down her cheek, “We’ll see each other in no time.”

“Please use the facial masks I have given you,” Hinata pleaded as Mingyu offered Joohyun a hesitant hug as well, her petite form disappearing in his huge arms, “Your skin is literally perfect, I’m afraid the salt water will destroy it.”

“It won’t.” A smile played at Joohyun’s lips, but she nodded still, “But I’ll use them, for your peace of mind.”

“Thank you!” Hinata’s eyes lit up and I faced my two makeup artists as they hugged me at once, making me chuckle and shy away when Mingyu ruffled my short hair fondly. San and Joohyun exchanged no words, but an understanding look passed between them before Joohyun sighed, taking a look at her wristwatch.

“The train leaves in fifteen minutes, San.” And to my surprise, I watched as my makeup team and Joohyun walked over to the compartment’s automated door, knowing looks passing their faces.

“See you soon, Y/N, let Joohyun help you wear your facial masks, please!” Hinata seemed to be obsessed with keeping our skin hydrated and moisturized, terms I learned only upon my arrival to the Capitol, and I nodded so that she’d leave with a peaceful heart.

“Take care!” Mingyu called before the doors closed in front of them, leaving San and me alone in the compartment which was bigger than my old bedroom. I interlaced my fingers in front of me and looked at the floor, wanting to say so much yet unable to do so. San moved first, approaching me with hurried steps and I didn’t expect to feel his warm hand cup my cheek and raise my head. His dark eyebrows were furrowed and worry was written all over his face, his skin clear of any cosmetical product. He was glowing underneath the natural light, he looked gorgeous. My body seemed to relax at the close proximity and I nuzzled my face into his palm, turning my head to kiss his wrist as San’s eyes softened, lips downturned.

“I don’t want to go just yet,” I whispered and held San’s other hand, our fingers intertwining.

“We’ll meet soon again,” He tried to reassure us, but it only made me long for him more, even if he was standing right in front of me, “Until then, you have Joohyun and even Finnick to help you if something is amiss. Don’t be afraid, I know your family cannot wait to see you, you’ll be fine, my love.”

“How can I be fine if you’re not there, San?” He gulped hard, jaw clenching as tears sprung into my eyes. The thought of being separated from him sounded excruciating, I really didn’t want to go. I wanted San to hold me, reassure me, and be there for every waking moment of mine, otherwise, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“You’ll be, no—I’ll find a way to be there, my love, if not physically, I’ll try to send pieces of myself to you.” He cupped my face as he leaned down, breath ghosting over my face as our eyes bore into each other deeply, “I promise, I won’t abandon you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

“Will you write to me?” I asked in a whisper, feeling a flicker of hope spark in my chest and San licked his lips, his eyes falling on my parted ones.

“I’ll try, I really will.” He whispered and then leaned in, eyes fluttering closed as our lips brushed together, hesitant at first, almost coaxing. I stepped closer and leaned into him, my arms around his torso holding him firmly as my fingers twisted into the flannel white shirt he wore, my body now wrapped in his honey-like cologne. San’s grip turned surer, more secure, as he tilted my head back, our lips moving languidly, taking our time as if we weren’t in a hurry. And for a split second, I managed to forget all my insecurities and fears as San’s whole being consumed mine, his lips moulding perfectly against mine as he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and kissing me with more fervour. One hand slipping into my hair and fisting the short strands firmly had me keening as I held San’s jaw, the pace of our kiss quickening as he walked me backwards until my thighs were pressing against something hard, forcing my knees to bend slightly as I tried to stabilize myself by a hand behind me, pressed firmly on the surface of the table.

And it felt as if San was trying to steal not just my breath but my soul too when his mouth parted, tongue asking for permission as it swept over my bottom lip. I had never been kissed like this before, neither held nor desired so fervently, and my mind swam in a daze as San’s body pressed against mine, firm and demanding, as my lips parted just slightly, hesitantly. But San’s tongue was insistent as it licked against my teeth and then finally into my mouth as I gasped in the back of my throat, holding onto his broad shoulders when a calloused hand on my lower back made it arch, leaning my upper body back as my lungs burned in a way I never wanted it to end, not painfully but longingly. His tongue was hot and sharp as it glided against mine, alternating between sucking and just simply exploring my mouth, coaxing more sounds out of me as my body started shaking, stimulated in a way it hadn’t been before. I didn’t want us to separate as San pulled slightly away, making me chase after his lips with a desperate need settling deep in my bones, my fingers slipping up to his neck as our lips met again, my fingernails pressing marks into his tan skin. But we didn’t have enough time, we never would, and when my lungs started screaming for air again and San had to pull back, he pressed his forehead against mine, panting loudly while he peppered kisses all over my cheeks—I felt at ease. For the first time in my life, my mind was silent, my body was relaxed, and I felt indestructible.

“I’ll find a way to you, I promise,” San whispered when the train whistled and my heart suddenly lurched into my throat, bringing that deep-rooted desperation back.

“I love you, San.” The words slipped past before I could even ponder on them, making San’s eyes widen as he froze, hands gently holding my waist as he helped me stand up straight. My eyes shook as I stared into his wide eyes, desperate to hear an answer, to hear him say the words back to me, to confirm that he cared for me just as deeply as I did for him.

His swollen red lips pressed against my forehead with a quiet hum and I felt on the verge of tears when I heard the compartment’s door open behind San, his body big as it obscured my view, “I love you too, Y/N.”

His words were quiet but firm, assuring, and definite as he looked me in the eyes with a sad smile, thumb rubbing my cheek when the train whistled again, giving its final warning before it took off. And I wanted him to stay, but I had to let go. San belonged in the Capitol and I didn’t. I was just a simple girl from District 4, our love never to be consumed as it should’ve been from the very beginning. But I found the strength to smile, to hope for a future by San’s side as he detached himself from me, our fingers grazing together still when I stole a swift last kiss from him. Joohyun had her eyes fixated on the floor as she stood by the entrance, but when San walked towards her, she looked up. She seemed tired, the coldness was gone from her eyes, and she looked at us with pity—it hurt.

“Stay safe, Joo.” San patted her cheek before he was out of the compartment, never once looking back. I gulped, eyes falling onto the window as Hinata and Mingyu were now joined by San, a few Peacekeepers standing behind them to ensure everyone’s safety. Tears threatened to gloss over my eyes but I stopped them, fearful that I wouldn’t see San’s face anymore as I hurried towards the window, feeling the train lurch forward. Hinata and Mingyu waved as Joohyun joined me, her lips pulled into a small smile as she waved back, but San just watched with a stoic expression on his face, turning his back when the train lurched forward again, slowly taking off this time. Something in my chest felt heavy as San took off, never once turning back to look at me, taking both Hinata and Mingyu off guard as they looked at the retreating stylist with confused expressions. And when I couldn’t see them anymore, Joohyun’s cold fingers wrapped around my bicep and pulled me away from the window, guiding me towards a couch as my legs finally gave out and I crumbled into the soft cushion, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“The ocean awaits us, Y/N,” Joohyun whispered as I felt her manicured fingers in my hair, gently petting my head, mind lost somewhere as she stared ahead mindlessly. I was finally going home.

3 months later

            Adjusting to the life of a Victor came easier to me than I had expected. My parents welcomed me home with open arms and tearful eyes, holding me as my mother sobbed loudly while my father pressed kisses against my hair, telling me how happy he was that I was standing in front of them once again. I couldn’t tell them all the terror that came with standing in front of them, the mental torture I had endured because I was alive, I just couldn’t. So, I never let them know, that whenever I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see myself but a girl covered in blood from head to toe with a sinister smile on her lips, eyes dazed and hungry to kill. It was a monster staring back at me, not the innocent eighteen-year-old girl I was before I left for the Games. The District welcomed me back warmly as well, with people patting me on the back and congratulating me while Finnick stood with a bouquet in his arms when our train arrived at the station. Joohyun didn’t say much as the Peacekeepers led us towards a tinted car, ushering us inside as then I realized we were headed towards the Victor’s Village. My parents had been moved to the house when I was announced as the winner, apparently. All of my belongings were there, yet my room felt foreign, impersonal.

But over time, I learned to accept this new lifestyle as I slowly started adjusting to the small changes. People now greeted me on the streets, bowing their heads and asking whether they could talk to me when I had a little free time. At the market, everyone seemed to be wanting to buy our catch of the day, leaving the other vendors with grimaces on their faces. It was odd how suddenly everyone wanted my attention, wanted to befriend my parents even, calling us over for dinner or even lunch on Sundays. But I didn’t wish to mingle with those I wasn’t important to before the Games and kept to myself while remaining respectful towards everyone. Joohyun, unsurprisingly, wasn’t around as much, but she checked in every week and would sometimes come knocking on our door late at night, asking whether I would walk with her on the beach. Our walks were always filled with silence and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing and familiar. I was home, I finally felt at ease, away from the prying eyes of the Capitol and the curious people who had no idea what having privacy meant.

Yet still, something was missing. A big part of my heart was constantly aching, yearning, wishing for the one person I couldn’t have. San was in the Capitol, living his life like before, thriving each day as he released a new collection, called ‘The Little Mermaid’. Everyone theorised it was about me, but San denied the gossip and said he was merely inspired as it had been a long time since a tribute he worked with had won the Games. Apparently, San has always wanted to see the ocean, to let his feet sink into the cold and wet sand, lay down on a blanket and let the sun kiss his skin, warming it until he couldn’t bear it anymore and would have to cool down in the cool ocean. I hung onto his every word as he spoke, eyes gleaming and jewellery shining underneath the artificial lights of the studio with a backdrop of the ocean from District 4. I could feel my mother’s eyes on the side of my face as my eyes welled with tears, and unable to take the yearning inside my body, I stormed off before San could finish his interview.

But he had kept his promise. He sent almost every second week something that was his, a little piece of himself. I couldn’t help but look forward to it, anticipating the moment Mr. Yoon would knock on our door late at night, slipping San’s letters through underneath the door. Mr. Yoon was risking his job by receiving San’s letters and delivering them to me, but apparently, the two had grown up together and were good friends. Mr. Yoon became a Peacekeeper at a young age, following his father’s footsteps, and he was doing his best to rise in the ranks. He was granted more freedom due to his father’s status among the Peacekeepers, and he only took advantage of it when it came to delivering San’s letters. I was forever grateful to Mr. Yoon, rewarding him with baked goods whenever we would cross paths at the market or in the square.

Today had been a similar day, my blood was simmering underneath my skin and I had been fidgety all day long, trying to help my mother around the kitchen as it’s been a stormy day and my father and I couldn’t sail out onto the water. Finnick was over too, conversing with Annie in our living room as the TV was on. Apparently, Mags wanted to air out the whole house and sent the two out for a walk, but Annie ended up remembering she hadn’t seen me in a while, so, they decided to stop by. Despite Joohyun having been my mentor, I was closer to Finnick and Annie as they both seemed to understand my heartbreak and unspoken longing. Annie was a young healthy woman, but she wasn’t completely sane anymore, and she needed Finnick by her side at all times. Whenever he had to go to the Capitol, she’d isolate herself and not talk to anyone for days, but surprisingly she had allowed me inside her room one morning when I had made her breakfast together with Mags. She didn’t speak to me, she didn’t look at me and she didn’t get out of bed, but her hand shot out from underneath the blanket and held my wrist for a few seconds, squeezing it. I knew she was there for me in her own way, and I did everything I could to be there for her in my own way.

The house we lived in was massive and clearly too spacious for three people only, so my mother would often invite over either the other victors or our relatives, who had an envious glint in their eyes each time. If only they knew the sacrifices that came with living a lavished life, still controlled by the Capitol, even more so than before.

“Honey, should we add more carrots?” My mother asked with confusion as she stirred the soup, one hand on her hip. I put the knife I was holding down and walked up to her, glancing inside the pot.

“No, unless you plan on having over the whole district?” I raised an eyebrow at her and she chuckled, looking over her shoulder towards where the living room was. Annie was giggling and Finnick’s hushed words were audible but intangible.

“I did invite Mags and Joohyun too for lunch, so maybe I’ll add two more carrots.” My mother mused to herself as I hummed, leaning my hip against the counter. There was a TV in the kitchen too and it was on, volume louder than the one in the living room. Ceaser Flickerman was on, blabbering about whatever hot news that concerned the Capitol, some gossip about victors from Districts 1 and 2 before he mentioned San’s new collection again, talking about a party held not long ago to celebrate his new release. My ears perked up at that as I walked towards the table, grabbing the remote control to give it more volume, eyes glued to the TV as San’s grinning face appeared on it.

He was dressed in loose leather pants and a white, with an intricate design, adorned his torso, pulled in at his waist to make his shoulders seem even broader. His bare arms were kept warm by a thick fur coat that reached his ankles, and big golden necklaces and rings complemented his outfit. His eyebrows were black and sharp, and his dark hair was gelled back too, sharpening his features even more as it gave him a dangerous look. His eye makeup was completely black and his lips weren’t their usual red colour, but a more muted coral. And despite San always wearing jewellery that was big and chunky, his ears were adorned with pearls, giving his whole look an unusual touch. He looked masculine and dangerous, commanding almost, but the pearls decorating his ears somehow softened his features, especially when he laughed or smiled. It was endearing, breathtaking, and hard to look at without feeling my body shake, wanting to crumble to the floor.

Because Snow was a vicious person, San and I never met for my Victory Tour. He wasn’t allowed to come, apparently cooped up with designing ten dresses for President Snow’s niece, rendering him unable to accompany the team for the tour. His designs were sent with Hinata and Mingyu, and Momo, one of San’s apprentices, came as a replacement for him. I knew Snow had done this on purpose, but I couldn’t help but cry when the team came and there was no sight of San, my whole world breaking as my longing only worsened. Being this far away from him had started feeling painful, and I didn’t know for how much longer I could go on like this.

“Would you look at that!” Caesar's shrill exclamation snapped me out of my thoughts as my mother flinched too, glancing over her shoulder in wonder, “That’s Choi San, everyone, look at him!”

His laughter drilled inside my mind as more footage of San was shown as he drank glass after glass of champagne, accepting them from others as they handed it to him, Finnick’s warning ringing in my ears. You weren’t supposed to accept any drink that was handed to you, but perhaps it was different for San because he was from the Capitol too. But the more images flashed across the screen, the hazier his eyes became, his smile wider and lazier, movements sluggish as he danced around women and men, laughing and stealing food playfully off of others' plates. I gulped, my heart thumping loudly when Caesar's smirking face came into view, his microphone held close to his mouth,

“And would you look at that, had our lovely bachelor finally found a sweetheart?” It felt like the world stilled around me when the images shifted and it showed San cradling the face of a woman with fiery red hair, wild and short, face heavily clad in makeup as her eyes were unnaturally yellow. She wore a white dress, barely covering her cleavage as it glinted like diamonds under the lights. She looked at San with awe in her eyes, mesmerized by my stylist as he spoke to her words we couldn’t hear, hiding her further in the corner as he crowded against her body, “Ah, young love, I still remember what it feels like. It’s intense, raw and so rejuvenating, it was about time our beloved San found his match, no? I just hope we can still have him to ourselves from time to time!”

Caesar's shrill laughter echoed in my ears as I felt my blood simmer underneath my skin, ears ringing as my eyes remained glued to the screen where images of San sitting in a chair surrounded by ladies could be seen, even men flaunting around him. My jaw hurt and I hadn’t even realized just how tightly I was clenching it together, my body trembled as uncontrollable rage shook it. I saw red in front of my eyes, so vibrant that it blinded me as I heard something crash loudly, my breaths coming out in loud puffs as I felt the desire to hold something until I broke it with my bare hands, smashing it into tiny bits, destroying it until nothing was left of it. My chest felt tight and my thoughts were jumbled as I heard someone call my name, but I couldn’t focus, I just wanted to—kill. Kill whoever touched San, whoever dared separate us, whoever denied our love. And I knew I could do it, all I had to do was grab a— “Y/N!”

I jumped, gasping loudly for air as I felt my face burning, my eyes wide as I looked around myself, oblivious to my actions. Finnick’s face was contorted in worry as he stood the closest to me, hands held out in front of himself as he kept his distance as if I was a dangerous animal ready to pounce on him.

“Y/N.” My mother’s scared whisper finally snapped me out of my confusion as my eyes frantically surveyed the kitchen, widening when I realized the knife I was using to cut vegetables was now tightly gripped in my hand, held in a way that could easily harm anyone. As if burned by the silver, I released it from my tight grip, letting it clatter to the ground as my eyes settled on the remote control that was now broken into bits and pieces.

“I—” I tried to steady my breathing, but my body shook and I was scared. Scared of myself and of what I would’ve done if Finnick hadn’t managed to snap me out of my crazed thoughts. I wasn’t like this before the Games, something was wrong with me, I was a monster now, “I’m so sorry, I—I didn’t mean to, I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It was Annie who spoke up, her voice light and her face surprisingly understanding. She walked inside the kitchen, avoiding the broken remote control as she passed Finnick and nodded at my mother, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Her words hit hard, breaking the wall surrounding my mind and the emotions I tried to keep intact all this time, especially in front of my parents. I wanted to cry, to sob, but no sound left my mouth as Annie’s arms came around me, holding me tightly against her. I wanted to react, to scream, break more things, but I was numb and unable to move as she started humming a song I didn’t know. My mother had tears in her eyes when I looked at her but she didn’t look disgusted or afraid, she just looked like she didn’t know what to do as she turned her back to me, hunching over the counter as she continued to cry. I let Annie hold me as Finnick kneeled and gathered the broken pieces of the remote control, grabbing the knife too as he went over to my mother to offer her a side hug, muttering something to her quietly.

“You’re not broken even if you think you are.” Annie’s words seemed to only cut deeper into my heart as she had an absent look on her face when she finally detached herself from me, “If you give in to the monsters crawling inside your head, it means Snow wins. Don’t let him win, Y/N, you’re stronger than that.”

I nodded wordlessly as Annie smiled brightly and genuinely for the first time since I had known her. Finnick watched her closely, eyes holding affection, only making me remember San and the warmth of his eyes, of his embrace. I missed San, so much, and it felt like I broke apart a little bit more each day we spent apart. My mother wiped at her cheek with the sleeves of her blouse and continued cooking like nothing had happened, asking Finnick to set the table. The rain had stopped hours ago and my father had left for the market, he was supposed to return any time now for lunch. As I wanted to walk over to my mother and apologize, the bell of the front door rang twice. My heart leapt into my throat and I raced towards it, disregarding Finnick and Annie’s confused looks. It was Mr. Yoon, San’s letter had arrived. Nobody besides my mother knew that I was exchanging letters with somebody from the Capitol, and it was supposed to stay like that. I grabbed the letter off the floor and paid no attention to the rest of the people as I raced up the stairs towards my room, tearing the envelope apart as my hands shook with anticipation, eyes running over San’s familiar handwriting. It was elegant and beautiful, just like him.

My love,

I shall tell you this each time I write to you, even if it hasn’t changed, but I miss you dearly. I dream of you nightly and I fantasize about you daily. I miss your laughter, your pouty red lips, your eyes full of wonder and love, your skin which glints under the lights like they were meshed with gems. I miss your flowery scent, the gentleness of your touch, and the adoration in your eyes whenever you as much as glanced at me. Sometimes I miss you so much that I lose myself in my thoughts, in my memories, for hours on end, thinking about you, about your day, wondering how you are doing and what you are thinking of. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found a safe way for you to write back to me, and I know it must be so much harder for you than it is for me, but please wait for me. I’m looking for ways, searching endlessly to find a way to hear your words too, but at least I sleep assured knowing that my letters reach you, that I can fulfil my promises.

I haven’t been sleeping much lately, but fear not, I am well, I’m just trying to keep up with the deadlines. I wanted my new collection to come out before this month ends because summer doesn’t last forever and it’s themed after you, yes, my little mermaid. I know you hate the nickname, but to me, it’s like having a little part of you with me, just like what the letters are for you. I don’t know when this letter will finally reach you, hopefully before the Capitol shows anything of my collection and of the after-party, but know that every single pearl adorning my body was imported from District 4, specifically from your family. I know you love to collect pearls, you’ve told me so multiple times, so I asked my dear friend Yoon Jeonghan to only buy those that have been yielded by your hands, this way it’s even more meaningful, more personal. I wish the pearls could carry the warmth of your hands until they reach me, letting me feel you despite the distance between us. This whole collection…it’s to show my devotion to you, to tell you that I am yours and that I cannot wait to see you. I miss you, Y/N, but I have told you that already. I do not know when we’ll meet again, but just know that no man, status, rule or distance can keep us separated for much longer. Times are changing, my love, I can feel it in the air. Something is brewing and I’m afraid once it hits us, it won’t be pretty. I do not wish to wait around for it to happen, but I cannot disclose anything else, I’m afraid. I do not wish to put you in danger if this accidentally ends up in the wrong hands, although I trust my dear friend, Jeonghan. Before I end my thoughts, I shall ask you to ignore everything you might see or hear through the TV, whatever Caesar Flickerman and the other anchors speculate, they are not true. I do not care for anyone else but you in this world, and whatever you see is for publicity, it’s because I must keep up a front. If I didn’t, it would raise suspicion, it would sabotage me from seeing you before the next Games. Have faith and a little trust in me, even if I’m not deserving of it, I promise nobody owns my heart like you do.

I shall end my letter here, sitting by my window under the lamplight, wishing for you to be by my side. I hope the victors and your parents treat you well, and that Joohyun didn’t shut herself away from you like she usually does with everyone. It might not seem so, but the two of us are friends, and I worry about her frequently. Finnick is an honourable man too, I know he’ll take care of you if hardship arises, perhaps let him know when you can that the marigolds were prettier this year than last. Of course, do not say I have told you this, just let it slip during one of your conversations. I must go now, but remember, I love you. Until we shall meet,

Your beloved,

Choi San.

            Every muscle burned as I tried to lift the fork, even my fingers felt like they weighed kilos. My chest ached and despite my stomach growling, I couldn’t seem to gulp my food down, the orange juice in the cup by my hand my only hope as it washed down the unchewed food I still forced inside my mouth. It was sickening and I tried not to look disgusted as everyone seemed to be enjoying their dinner. Today had been horrible, it’s been only the second day of training, but I already knew that I wouldn’t survive past the second day in the Games. I had watched the other tributes, specifically those from Districts 1 and 2, and concluded that if I came face to face with them in the Arena, I’d beg them to kill me fast so that I could go painlessly. It was a frightening thought and it made my whole body shake as I somehow veered away from them and tried to learn something new, something I wasn’t good at to ensure my survival even if for just a little longer.

The table had been silent at the beginning, but the male tribute who sat to my left had spoken up about how he learned how to correctly hold throwing knives and was thinking of choosing those as his main weapons. The mentor in charge of him, not Finnick Odair as apparently Snow didn’t let him partake in the Games this year, was sceptical of Jisung’s, the male tribute, weapon of choice and told him to go for something bigger and stronger. My mentor, Bae Joohyun, just sat in silence as she ate the bloody beef on her plate, her lifeless eyes glancing up from time to time when her mentor partner would crack insensitive jokes about all the children that died in the Arena and would keep on dying. Jisung was just a child too, barely sixteen years old, but he didn’t react to the comments, only placed more meat on my plate despite me not touching it. The makeup team and the stylist stayed over for dinner tonight after they took our measurements and discussed with us what we wanted to wear for the parade.

The stylist, Choi San, was unlike any man I had seen before. He was intimidating and cold, his small eyes were sharp and bore into yours with an alarming intensity. Whenever I looked at him, he was already looking at me with a blank expression on his face, but his eyes felt like they could read my mind, like he could see right inside it and tell just how scared I was. I couldn’t hold his gaze for too long, shy, and also slightly animus towards him since he was from the Capitol. It was very obvious he lived a lavished lifestyle, his clothes expensive and his cologne sweet and strong. He also had no shame as he wore a mesh shirt, completely see-through and showing off the nipple piercings he had in both buds, a cross necklace hanging between his well-built pecks. His shoulders were broad and yet his waist was small, he wasn’t the tallest man but he still towered over my smaller form. He was breathtaking and I felt ashamed whenever my eyes strayed towards him, looking and admiring him, wondering what type of person he was underneath all that makeup and the pompous clothes.

“Well, Y/N,” One of the stylist’s apprentices spoke up suddenly, her name was Jurin, “Why aren’t you eating? You are already very thin.”

Silence settled upon the table and my muscles stiffened as I felt put on the spot, but she just continued, “There’s no reason to fit in your clothes if you cannot lift a simple sword to protect yourself in the Arena.”

“Can you lift a sword?” I didn’t mean to snap, I didn’t even want to answer her, but my fatigue and waves of nausea got the better of me, tipping me over the edge as I looked at her expression full of judgment, her purple eyes narrowed.

“I’m not required to lift one,” Her tone was snobby, I watched as my stylist lowered his fork from his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to look at Jurin, “but I probably could, if I had to.”

“Why don’t you go into the Arena, then, Jurin?” I asked with a wide smile, letting my fork and knife clatter against my plate loudly. Tense silence fell over the table as Jisung curled into himself, Joohyun’s glare was sharp as she looked towards Jurin, and Jisung’s mentor only chuckled, throwing back a shot of whiskey.

“Because I’m not a disposable rag.” That said everything about the people from the Capitol, about what they thought of us, how they viewed us. It was enough to make my blood boil as I pushed my chair back, standing up with a clenched jaw. Choi San’s fork clattered against the plate loudly too as his head whipped around, eyes glaring at his apprentice.

“Not yet, anyway.” I hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as Jurin paused, one eyebrow raising in a taunt, “Your cakey makeup will eventually melt your face off, and all those fake things on you that you call beautiful? Yeah, they’ll make you look like a rag at some point, not that you don’t look like one already—”

“How dare you!” Jurin screeched as she raised her knife, springing up to her feet with an appalled expression. Joohyun scoffed with an irritated look on her face and eyed the other woman, her tone eerily calm.

“Sit down before I make you, wench.” Jurin screeched again as if the world was ending, and despite how unwell I was feeling, it satisfied me to hear my mentor defend me against the delusional and disrespectful woman.

“You disgraces think that—”

“Enough!” I flinched when the stylist’s voice boomed, making tears spring into Jurin’s eyes. She looked at San as if she was betrayed, then she started sobbing loudly as she slammed her chair onto the floor while turning around to storm out of the dining hall. Poor Jisung sat frozen, and I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as his mentor started laughing loudly, eyes falling on Jisung.

“See? I told you women are sensitive, all you have to do is comment about their appearance in the Arena, and they’ll turn against each other without you doing anything.”

“Not now, Jongin.” Joohyun hissed as Jongin chuckled, holding his arms up in mock innocence. With my stomach churning and bile rising to my throat, I took a shaky breath and lowered my eyes, feeling ashamed and on the verge of throwing up. The makeup artists looked like they didn’t know how to react, the tall guy called Mingyu was mid-bite as he shared a confused look with the blue-haired girl, Hinata.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be in my room,” I muttered under my breath as I bowed my head and took off, pressing my hand against my mouth as I took deep breaths, rushing towards my room. The doors were automated and they opened by themselves as I reached the end of the corridor, taking off into a sprint as I felt like I’d throw up anytime now. My mind was a jumbled mess and my emotions were all over the place. I was terrified, and I didn’t know what to do anymore to become the strongest, the smartest. I had no idea how to become appealing to the Capitol so that they’d sponsor me and help me survive, I had no idea whether I was capable of killing or not.

My knees ached when I finally reached the toilet and kneeled rather harshly, heaving but not throwing up. My mind was only torturing my body, proving just how weak I was, incapable of doing anything to save myself. After flossing my mouth and washing my face with cold water, I tied my short hair in a low ponytail and headed back to my room to change into my pyjamas, however, I halted when I realized someone was inside my room. A frightened gasp left my mouth and the figure whirled around, looking sheepish as his hand slowly pushed the little notebook I brought with me away from him. It was something my mother had made for me. Ever since I was born, she’d note down my days, she’d draw for me in it, and tell me how she had felt that day. It was heartwarming and sweet, it brought me comfort when I was terrified and saw no light at the end of the tunnel.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or enter your room without permission, but I—” My stylist, San, gulped nervously, “I was worried about you. You barely ate anything and you look sickly, is something wrong?”

I released a shuddered breath and leaned back against the closed door of the adjacent bathroom, “I’m terrified.”

My words hung heavily between us as San gulped again, looking at the floor before he slowly looked back up at me, into my eyes, “What Jurin had said…I apologize. She’s spoiled and very insensitive, you shouldn’t listen to her.”

“And you shouldn’t apologize for her.” I muttered as my arms circled my torso, holding myself to bring a little comfort, “But thank you…San.”

He sighed loudly, licking his lips as he took a tentative step towards me, making me freeze. Jurin had been the one to take my measurement while San stood back and watched, noting down the numbers, sometimes instructing Jurin where to measure again and which body parts to skip. I could feel my heart slowly quicken, flushing my cheeks a light red colour as San walked closer and closer.

“I’m sorry you have to be here,” Before I could tell him that it wasn’t directly his fault, he continued with a big inhale, “I’m sorry I can’t do anything to stop this from happening. Jisung is barely sixteen years old and you are eighteen, you’re both so young, and all I can do is dress you up to make you look desirable for the Capitol. I’m a horrible person, but I—I want them to see how gorgeous you are, Y/N, I want them to look at you and want you to win. I want them to fall in love with you and root for you, and I want—I want you to return to me. I believe in you, I can see it in your eyes, the way you move and think, you’re strong, Y/N, let Joohyun coach you and you will live, I know you will.”

My eyes were round as I stared up at San in surprise as he came to a standstill in front of me, eyebrows deeply furrowed and voice raspy as he took a big breath, gulping as his hands curled and uncurled at his sides. I didn’t understand where this was coming from, but I felt my heart race as I stared at San dumbfounded, arms dropping from around my torso as I gulped, slowly nodding my head.

“I—I’ll do my best,” I whispered, unsure of what I was supposed to say as San’s eyebrows furrowed more, face contorting into an emotion I couldn’t read. His left hand reached out, but he stopped before it could touch me.

“May—may I hug you?” He asked quietly, lowering his head so that I couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. My eyebrows raised in surprise and I froze, confused, but not opposed to the idea. I nodded slowly, trying to relax when he grabbed my arm and gently guided me towards himself, his sweet cologne engulfing my senses as my eyes fluttered closed, taken aback by his warmth as San’s arms circled my shoulders and pressed my head into his chest. He released a shaky breath as I stood in his arms, frozen, heart racing in my chest as I slowly raised my hands, hugging him around his middle. I hadn’t been hugged like this before, not by anyone who wasn’t my father, and yet, this embrace felt different. It was charged with something I couldn’t name yet, it felt warm and full of silent promises that I didn’t fully understand. And when San’s lips pressed against the top of my head, I understood that this ran deeper, that he needed me to return to him, that he was here because he couldn’t go back to his apartment without telling me all of that. And I knew it was wrong that I was letting him hold me like this, he was from the Capitol and he was just like the others, probably, but I couldn’t help but melt into his arms, a small smile grazing my lips.

That is until I heard the slash of something, warm and red liquid dropping onto my head until it slowly started streaming down my face, getting into my eyes, nose, and lips. I gasped and tried to pull myself out of San’s embrace, but his arms only tightened around me and a very familiar cackle could be heard behind him. He was too big and I couldn’t see past his shoulders, but when his arms finally fell limp and I pushed him backwards, a scream ripped through my throat. The front of my clothes was coated in blood—in San’s blood and the person who still held onto the handle of the axe that was lodged into his skull was—me.

“Y/N!” The alarmed voice that called my name made another scream freeze in my throat as I gasped, eyes flying open. My heart was beating frantically and it was pitch dark inside the room, only instilling more fear into me as I grasped for whoever was inside the room with me, gasping and yelping when warm arms grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up into a sitting position, “Y/N, it’s me, it’s okay now, shh.”

I was crying, I realized as I buried my face into my mother’s chest, letting the sobs wrack my body as I clung to her, her hands patting my back and shushing me as she rocked us back and forth. I could still feel San’s blood coating my body, the smell nauseating and its taste even worse as it got into my mouth when I screamed. What was a memory, something that had happened, was twisted by my sick mind and turned into a nightmare, into something I would’ve never done to San.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” My mother muttered into my hair as my sobs turned into hiccups, “you never said anything so I thought you were fine, I’m so sorry for not noticing it. I’m here, I’m always here for you, and so is your father, Y/N, you can tell us anything.”

I sniffed loudly as I raised my head and hugged my mother tightly, resting my head on her shoulder. She let out a loud sigh and hugged me back just as tightly, pressing a kiss against my temple, “I didn’t want you to worry. I can carry this burden on my own, mom, I didn’t want you to see the monster I had become—”

“You’re not a monster, my baby.” My mother’s voice broke and she pulled back, holding my head as she looked me in the eyes. I could see her now that my own eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and her eyes were filled with tears as I continued to sniff loudly, “You are courageous and smart. You did what every other victor had done before, Y/N, you’re not a monster. I love you, your father loves you, nothing can change that, ever.”

I sniffed and nodded, her words soothing despite the storm still raging inside my mind. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, the longing was too much, the memories and my actions were haunting me. I felt incomplete without him here, I was slowly breaking more and more, “I’m in love with San, mom.”

“With Choi San?”

“Yes, I love him.”

“Oh, my baby,” A sad smile crossed my mother’s features, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Come here.”

And she released me as she crawled further onto the bed, pulling the covers back as she got underneath them, laying on the empty side of my king-sized bed. She opened her arms and smiled softly as I turned towards her, pulling the covers over our bodies as I let her hug me and lull me back to sleep with her soft singing.

I never saw Jurin again after that evening.

            A week passed since my confession and nothing has changed, proving my fears fruitless. My mother never brought up the subject again, she didn’t tell my father either, but she did ask one evening while we watched the sunset from our back porch whether the letters I kept receiving were from San. She looked worried, like she wanted to advise me against meddling with San, but she knew too that it was too late for that now. I was in love with San, nothing could change my heart’s desires anymore. It was saddening how badly I was taking his absence. I had started seeing his face in others, hearing his voice when he wasn’t even there, trying to recall his touches only to panickedly realize they weren’t as vivid anymore. It was horrifying how quickly my thoughts were spiralling, sending me into something I would call depression. I didn’t want to see anyone anymore, yet Joohyun’s presence brought me comfort. Perhaps it was because she had been there for me, watching out and helping me during my Games, perhaps it was because she had seen me and San together, a reminder that it wasn’t just something my mind had made up.

And despite how obvious it was that I wasn’t doing well, my parents never left my side, not even when I yelled at them to leave me alone. They were understanding and as loving as ever, and they didn’t let me wallow in misery. Today I had little to no force or willpower to get out of bed, but my mother needed a few vegetables and my father was out on the ocean, sailing his boat without me. I had to go to the market whether I liked it or not. The cacophony of the place was disorienting and the sun was too hot today, making it hard to breathe as I tried to avoid crashing into anyone. The basket hung from my arm as I paid the vendor for the eggplants I had bought, and feeling self-conscious, I let my eyes survey the market. Something felt amiss, like eyes were constantly following me. Many people looked at me given that they knew who I was, but there was one set of eyes that remained on me constantly, watching from the shadows, from someplace I couldn’t see. My heartbeat picked up as I thought about the worst-case scenario. Maybe San had been caught, his letters were found, and now whoever President Snow had sent after me was here to torture my family and me.

I tried to remain calm as I hurriedly left the market, hoping that the insistent eyes would go away, but as I rushed through the busy cobbled streets of the District, I realized someone was following me now. I gulped and tried to find a path that was fast yet intricate so that my pursuer wouldn’t be able to keep up with me. It felt like I was back in the Arena, chased and mocked, reminded of how fragile I was, of how easily I could lose my life to others who were bigger and more powerful. I took a left turn, breaking off into a sprint when I heard footsteps echo behind me, and realized the streets were becoming deserted as it was noon and nobody was outside unless they were headed for the market. I didn’t dare look back as I turned onto an alleyway, gripping the basket firmly as I ran down the narrow pathway, turning to my right as I had foolishly forgotten that it was a dead-end. My chest fell and rose quickly, making me stop in the middle of the alley as I was forced to face my mistake.

The footsteps came to a stop behind me and my muscles tensed up, my jaw gritting as I gripped the basket’s handle tighter, wondering whether I could use it to defend myself. If I hurled it at my chaser, then maybe I could escape while they were too busy dodging the heavy basket. Realizing that I had been through worse in the Arena, I took a deep breath and then swiftly turned around, ready to throw my basket towards the person, until I realized who stood in front of me. I froze, eyebrows furrowing and my mouth falling open the longer I looked at the man facing me, breathing hard from having had to chase me. He looked nothing like the stylist I had met in the Capitol all these months ago. He wore simple beige trousers and a white shirt which was buttoned down to the middle of his chest, which was glistening with sweat due to the hot air of District 4. His black hair fell over his forehead, some strands falling into his sharp eyes. His face was devoid of any makeup and he looked like any other man, blending in well with those from District 4, his complex tan and beautiful.

Basket tumbling to the ground, I didn’t even notice my legs take off without my command, carrying me towards San as I leapt into his arms, gasping when our bodies collided together. He was real, he was here. San was in District 4, holding me tightly against his body as my arms circled his neck, thighs squeezing his hips as my ankles hooked together. He still smelled the same, still as sweet and honey-like, his skin was hot and his embrace warm as San staggered for a second, his hands fisting my blue dress as one of my hands tangled into the soft hair on the back of his head.

“My love.” His voice was low, but still warm and filled with longing, with care, “Oh, Y/N, I have missed you—so much.”

His voice broke at the same time my tears fell down my cheeks and I thought I couldn’t hold him tighter, but I did as I pulled my head back just enough to press kiss after kiss against his neck. San shuddered against my body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I felt my mind settle, my thoughts finally silent, and my heart void of the ache and longing I have felt ever since we parted ways.

“San.” My voice broke as he pulled his head back until we could look into each other’s eyes and I didn’t wait any longer, I crashed our lips together as San groaned, holding me even tighter against himself. I didn’t care who happened to see us, I didn’t care if we were caught as our lips moved frantically, insatiable, and desperate to press together more and more and more. I whined when our tongues met, and it felt rushed and painful when our teeth clinked together, but I didn’t care because I was in San’s arms—San was here, with me. Our breaths were ragged when we finally parted, foreheads pressed together as my eyes remained closed, just drinking in the emotions swirling in my chest, so powerful that it felt like my heart was about to burst, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” San answered before I even finished my sentence and I opened my eyes, unable to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to mind as he adjusted his grip around me, holding me more comfortably.

“How—just—what are you doing here?” My mind was reeling with scenarios, I needed an answer. I had to know that everything was alright, that President Snow hadn’t done anything to him.

“It doesn’t matter how,” San’s eyebrows furrowed and mine did too when I realized he looked anxious, “but we can’t stay here for any longer.”

I nodded, gulping, “Of course, let’s go to my house, it’s safer—”

“No, Y/N.” San’s voice was serious, sharp, as he shook his head, “We can’t stay in District 4 and we can’t stay in the Capitol either.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in a whisper, feeling dread take over my body as San carefully lowered me to the ground, cupping my cheeks as he raised my head. My hands held onto his arms as I looked up into his warm eyes, now filled with worry and unease.

“I broke many rules while coming here, I…” He sighed and bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes for a split second, “I disobeyed Snow’s orders. If he finds us, he’ll kill you as a way of punishing me—or worse, he’ll kill me and your family to make you hurt knowing it would hurt me more than anything that I left you on your own—”

“I don’t understand,” I shook my head, cutting San off, “Where can we go if we—we’ll die, San, it doesn’t matter—”

“No, Y/N, you have to listen to me.” He gulped and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, voice shaking slightly as he continued, “I know it will sound crazy, but District 13 wasn’t destroyed by the Capitol. We can—we must go, I have it arranged already. Do you trust me, my love?”

“I do, San, of course, I do, but—” I gulped, feeling uncertain, “This sounds impossible, it’s crazy. If we get caught, we’ll both—”

“We won’t get caught.” San’s tone held determination, like he was completely sure that we wouldn’t get caught, “Jeonghan is coming with us, we have a boat waiting for us, he can get us out. I have spoken to President Coin, District 13th’s leader, she’s waiting for us. We can do it, Y/N, please. I’m sick of Snow, I’m sick of the Capitol, I just want to live the rest of my life with you by my side, happy, and free. Come with me, my love.”

A free future, a future where President Snow couldn’t control us anymore, tell us what to do or separate us from each other. A future where I could be by San’s side, far away from the scrutinising eyes, from the people who would never approve of our relationship. I was in love with San, so much so that I couldn’t bear the thought of letting him leave me behind. I couldn’t live without him anymore, I couldn’t let him walk away again, I couldn’t be on my own anymore, surrounded by people who would never understand me like San does. He believed in me, he cheered me on, he knew I could return—he loves me.

“Okay,” I whispered, nodding my head as San’s eyes widened as if he had thought I wouldn’t go with him, “Yes, I will go with you, my love. I trust you.”

San’s whole face lit up at my words and the biggest smile I have ever seen on his face appeared, eyes filling with tears as he pulled me into his arms, his embrace tight and suffocating. Just like his love for me.

“I love you so much that it hurts, Y/N.” San said as he released me, intertwining our fingers, “The boat leaves in an hour, we can’t take too many things with us, but maybe a few—”

“No.” I shook my head, smiling at him, “I have everything I need right here, in front of me.”

A tear rolled down San’s cheek as I pressed up on my tip toes and kissed it away, pressing our cheeks together as my heart felt like it couldn’t be contained inside my chest anymore, bursting and racing so hard it felt like I was having palpitations while my ears started ringing. And I meant what I had said, San was the only thing I needed, nothing and nobody else. Our eyes met as San pressed a kiss against our intertwined fingers, the basket long forgotten on the ground as we rounded the corner, headed towards the port where Jeonghan was waiting for us on our getaway boat,

“May the odds be ever in your favour.” ~ Suzzane Collins.

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[pointyfruit]

Happy (late) Valentine's Day @miwachan2 💖💞

HheheheHAHAHA

I want to say right off the bat (Get it?) that your designs are peak and I knew I was going to have fun drawing them since the very beginning. Your DCAs are so prettyy!!

I didn't know anything about the story so I kind of just winged it (Okay, I'll stop). My thought process was, "Hmm vampire.. vampire..... vampire like blood mmm.. vampire give real beating heart? Nooo too gore! hmmm.. vampire fancyyy.. vampire CASTLE!!! COURTYARD!!"

I started with this ⤵️

I chose Moon first because I'm a Moon lober. He's my shine. It's my rock. It's my wife. I love himb.

The idea was for Moon and y/n to have a chat (or rather, y/n yaps and moon listens) while walking through a courtyard in the flower garden. The camera was placed so only the viewer can see Moon's face. He has softened for them quite a bit.

Your y/n looks like the oblivious type, so they are unaware of this. They look studious and like some sort of investigator/explorer, so they're yapping about something they learned or something new they found.

It is mid-day. I don't know what his situation is but the fact that it's a vampire and, well, it's Moon, I figured the light wouldn't feel so good. I gave him a maAaAgicAlll umbrella with a veil to proctect him from the sun and any other light. Fancy how Moon went out of it's way to spend time with y/n in such a condition. He can get hurt. He could've been safe and comfortable in the dark but he chose not to.. Hmm...

Unfortunately, it was discarded because I couldn't get the perspective to look right. Trying to fix it felt unnatural so I decided to start a new one.

However, I did decide the keep the fancy castle theme. You got all this.. c a s t l e . . . with all this space. Surely, there is a ballroom in there. Naturally, as you do, someone would dance in them. Make the vampire. Dance. With y/n... Yes.

I started with this ⤵️

I chose to use Eclipse this time. The OOOs and AWWEs as I looked across the ref sheet peaked when I got to them. They're just so GRAND! I love the stars and shape of their cape and- I really wanted to do something with them.

I wanted it to be dramatic, so I looked through ballroom references for inspiration. I started off by drawing everything in black and white so I could work on my values. ⤵️

Honestly, I wish I wasn't shy about making things dark and gloomy. If I could change anything, I would make some values darker and others lighter. More contrasting stuff.

I added a new layer and changed it to some sort of overlay so I could color in the original instead of making a new one. ⤵️

Lineart felt unnatural that day so I had to do the classic old "throw a blob of color on the canvas and refine it until it looks like the Mona Lisa" ...or painting.. is the more popular term for it...⤵️

I don't have a proper screenshot but you can probably see. Eclipse and y/n are just refined blobs of color. Lineart was an afterthought.

I wish I could say it's just my style, but I gave Clippy little spirals in their cape purely for my enrichment. I like shapes.

Thank you again for being so patient with me. I was worried and the milk and cookie helped a lot! I hope you have a nice day and good food comes your way! 💖💞

[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing

So to kickstart this block again I'm regressing into old hyperfixations. So here's a fanfic I'm working on for The Lost Boys! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Moving to Santa Carla was a sudden decision, but something about it just felt right. There was something about that place, calling you to it, you just didn't know what.

Or: you're drawn to Santa Carla cause you're the final mate of The Lost Boy's pack

I sighed heavily as I sat on a bench at the boardwalk. Santa Carla was fun for the first week upon moving here, but after that it sort of just lost its charm. It was the same routine of showing up to work at the little oddities shop between the chinese take out place and some other little resturant that served the greasiest burgers. It wasn’t a bad job, but it wasn’t always the busiest as there were other attractions to see that were much more interesting. The shop consisted of bad taxidermy, crystals, fake skulls (which a lot of people thought were real), and tarot cards/readings. It wasn’t a bad gig, just again, not the busiest. 

Tonight was my night off, and I really had no idea what to do. I decided sitting here was better than sitting at home, with even less to do. Deciding it was best to grab some food I stood up, making my way over towards the shop and the chinese place. Chinese sounded good for dinner. As I neared the resturant, I couldn’t help but notice a group of bikers loitering outside the shop. There was two blondes, rough housing with each other. A tall dark haired main leaned on the wall of the front of the shop, watching the two blondes wrestle. And finally, leaned against one of four bikes was a third blond, a cigarette balanced between his lips. His eyes flitted through the crowd, taking in faces, a dark look lurking behind them.

It wasn’t really of any concern to me seeing these four, Santa Carla was full of different types of people, and I’ve seen them around before at different places on the boardwalk. We never interacted before, but a cloud of trouble oozed off of them. I tried to keep to myself. 

Ordering my food I waited to the side for them to finish preparing it, tapping my foot lightly as I listened to the sounds around me. Rollercoasters whizzed by with screams that lasted mere seconds, loud carnival music and people chattering away. It was almost overwhelming, the sounds. But you grow used to it pretty fast. Finally my order was called, and I picked up the bag containing the food. Upon closer inspection I realized that they had gotten my order wrong…but it wasn’t worth arguing. They ended up giving me more than what I ordered, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Perhaps Sandra would want some of this…” I wondered out loud, thinking of my coworker who was currently working tonight. Deciding I would share my feast, I walked over to the shop, towards the group of four bikers. As I approached, I caught the attention of the blonde leaning against the bike. His eyes trailed up and down me slowly, sizing me up. “Um…excuse me. Could you move your bikes, so I can like…get inside the store.” I asked, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You want us…to move our bikes…so you can go inside?” He repeats back to me, and I instantly knew what he was doing.

“Yes. You, move bikes. I go, inside?” I throw back, raising an eyebrow. The banter between the two of us caught the attention of the other three. The second blonde with curled ringlets going down his back couldn’t help but snicker, flashing me a dangerous smile and a wink when I looked his way. “Really it would just be easier if you moved, so I don’t have to weave in and out of your guys bikes and risk knocking one over. So what’s it gonna be pretty boy?” I asked shifting weight on my feet.

The third blond, who’s hair was teased to high hell and back laughed loudly. “Aw come on sugar, if anyone’s pretty here it’s you.” He says wrapping an arm his friend with the ringlets. “Do we at least get to know your name?” 

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you guys around before.” I say chewing my lip. I really did not expect to get into such a conversation, but it seemed like there was no backing out now. “If I tell you my name, will you please move your bikes?” I throw in, hoping they would indeed do as I asked.

His grin widens, and he sauntered down the steps, wrapping his arm around me. The smell of aqua net hair spray and weed overtook my senes. “I’m Paul. That’s Marko, Dwayne, and David.” He says pointing each of them out. “And I…have definetly not seen you around here. Are you new?” he questions.

Slipping out of his arm I nod, “I’m y/n. And yes, I am new. I just moved here about a week and a half ago.” I say. “Now really, this is quite the lovely chat but I think I’m just gonna weave around the bikes. Sorry to bother you.”

David holds his hand up, stopping my movements. “Hang on there sweet thing, you didn’t give me a chance to answer. Since I am a man of my word, we will move our bikes.” It’s funny he says that, cause he never mentioned giving me his word. But oh well. “Come on boys, let’s get out of here. We’ll see you around y/n.” he gives me a smirk, again something hiding behind his expression as the other three revved their bikes to life. With hoots and hollers they revved the engines a few more times before taking off, nearly hitting me in the process.

“Fuckin assholes,” I mutter as my heart pounds in my chest. Finally walking up the steps I walk inside, “Sandra! It’s me! I brought some food, the chinese place messed up the order.” Walking to the counter I set the food down, taking it out and arranging it so we could easily grab what we wanted. 

Sandra comes out from the back, a yawn errupting from her lips. “Oh thank god, I was going to fall asleep back there. Hey, did you hear like, motocrycle sounds?” She asks as she grabs some food.

Between swallows I nod, “Yeah. Some bikers out front. I asked them to move, and it took a minute but they did. Who knew all I had to do was give them my name.” I say. “I got their names in return. David, Marko, Paul, Dwayne. Interesting group of guys. I’ve seen them around the boardwalk before.” 

Sandra freezes, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Y/n…please tell me you’re joking. Like say sike right now.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, anxiousness radiating into my bubble.

“What’s the big deal? They’re not trouble are they?” 

“Oh yes they’re trouble! They’re dangerous y/n. They’re always in trouble with security on the boardwalk, bothering people.” Sandra’s looking me dead in the eyes now, a look I can’t place. 

Finishing up my food I wipe my mouth, “Okay. I’ll keep my distance. Can’t blame me too much you know, I just moved here.” A part of me was annoyed. I appreciated her concern, but again I just moved here. And the boys seemed nice enough…although that doesn’t make up for the fact that I don’t know them.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just really like you and I don’t want you to end up on a missing person’s poster. It would suck to not have you in my life anymore.” That was one thing I was definetly grateful for, was my quick friendship with Sandra. She took me around, showed me the ropes, and was always there should I have needed anything in my short time in Santa Carla.

“Thank you, Sandra. Really.” Glancing at the clock on the wall I sighed, “I should probably get going, it’s getting late and I have to work a twelve hour tomorrow.” 

Sandra gives me a sympathetic look. “Well if you need anything, give me a holler okay? Seeya later!” Her voice disappears as the bell to the door chimes and I’m once again outside. Traffic has quieted quite a bit, not so loud. Turning I begin to make my way home, unaware of the set of eyes watching me from the dark.

I want her.

Me too.

She needs to be with us, one of us.

Soon, she will be. Give it time.

[websterss]

THE DEVIL WEARS CONVERSE — LUKE PATTERSON

SUMMARY: If there's one thing Caleb is scared of it's the color red and the devil.

WARNING(S): angst, some fluff, implications of smut, some making out

WORD COUNT: 3,604

PAIRING: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! This was one fic I lost when I made a new blog and was reposting my works.

MASTERLIST

You had caught Luke's eye as soon as he stepped out onto the floor. Many people flaunting and going amidst their night caught his attention. He felt that he and the guys were a little underdressed for the fancy club, but it had been your appearance alone that had you catching their eyes like flies. They were drawn to you in particular. Luke most of all, couldn't sway where his sights were directed towards.

"Hey boys, I'll be right back." He made to move past Reggie, his hand on his chest in passing but was stopped when Willie intersected him. Luke looked down at the hand that Willie pressed against his chest. He scoffed in amusement. "Where's the fire?"

"N-Nowhere, but there could be. I wouldn't recommend it. Not her. Y/n isn't someone you just go up and talk to." Willie's face fell with fear.

"Oh yeah, why's that? Is she important or something?" Luke laughed, but Willie wasn't finding Luke's advances towards you hilarious. "She off-bounds?"

"Yea- Yeah, she is in fact," Willie said nervously. After taking notice of Willie's shift in tone when he spoke of you, Luke's eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.

"What are you getting at, Willie? You seem protective." Luke questioned as he put two and two together. He was almost certain that Alex was Willie's crush, he didn't take him to swing both ways or had he simply misread him, that and the way he reacted just now…it seemed unprecedented. "I thought you liked Alex?" Luke crossed his arms.

"I do- It's not like that. Just- Just promise me you won't approach her. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you guys." Willie pleads.

Luke couldn't help but raise a brow, Willie was acting like she was some sort of monster. "A heartbreaker then, that's okay Willie. I've had my fair share of girls like her." He smiled boyishly. He reached up to slap Willie on his upper arm in reassurance. "Nothing's going to happen." Luke shrugged off Willie. Willie was being dramatic. The interest of doing something irrational intrigued him like a child who was told to not play with fire.

"Luke, I mean it. She's not even a regular. You won't see her that much. She's only ever here on business."

"Only ever here for business, huh?" Luke repeated curiously with an eyebrow up. "Then why can't I talk to her? What's gonna happen, Willie?" Luke wasn't one for following orders, that was not in his nature. He couldn't stand being told what not to do, it only made him crave what he wasn't meant to have or do even more. So, it was no mistake that Willie had made one just now. This little curiosity of Luke's was going to get the best of him. The way Willie made it sound like you did some kind of illicit activity intrigued him even more. "What, does she work for the mob or something?" He said half-jokingly with a brow lift. It was only natural to be enticed by a beautiful woman whom people were being tight-lipped about, it only made you seem more interesting and willing to know more about in his books.

"N-Nothing good." He muttered softly. "Why don't I show you guys to your table?"

"Yes, please!" Alex raised a finger, eager to move past Willie's sudden fear-stricken face.

"You guys go ahead. I'll be right back." Luke finally did move past Reggie and began making his way over to you.

"Luke, I wouldn't!" Willie exclaimed.

"I'm just gonna say hi." He turned to walk backwards as he faced him with a cheeky smile. Then turned as he approached the empty bar, beside you and the bartender giving you your drinks with shaky hands. That had him raising his brows with interest.

-

"Hi Marcus, long time no see." You flashed the man with a sweet smirk. Marcus's smile fell upon the realization you were sitting before the bar. He stopped cleaning the glass in his hands letting it fall to the ground with a smash. He winced at the sound of it breaking. He remained composed as your smile didn't let up. You were the mere image of innocence, you conjured up the identity of a teenage girl this time around. Last year you looked older, dressed up as a woman in a black dress, but this by far was his least favorite one on you, your childlike nature and appearance was scaring him shitless. Your soul was pure rotten, you by no means represented youth and innocence.

"Y/n." He dipped his head in greetings.

"I see Caleb still keeps you around." You tilted your head.

Because he knows I can keep you tranquil. He wanted to say but opted not to. "I'm the only one who can make a dirty cocktail." He lets out nervously.

"That you can, sweetie. Though I'm more in the mood for something sweet tonight, like you." You poke his sternum. Your sweet angelic laughter unsettles him, but he laughs along with you. Knowing Caleb would have his soul again if he made you angry.

"Perhaps a living soul?" He offered with a timid smile.

"Hell no, Lucifer knows I deal with too many of them back home as it is. Why on earth would I waste my time on one tonight? Though you do have a fair amount of them tonight..." You hum surveying the floor. You turned back to the bar. "How about a slushy, make it strong, and fruity." You order.

"So you're not here to collect a soul?"

"I have other matters to tend to Marcus. I've been getting screwed over you see. My bargain with your showman has not been followed down to the last letter, and I am not happy Marcus." You sigh. "I mean how stupid does Caleb peg me? Stealing souls from me." Your laughter darkens with every word that escapes you. "I am a woman of business, and I don't see my need to be tethered to one so insidious. You understand, Marcus?"

Marcus nods furiously. "Where's Willie? As of now, he's my new eyes and ears. Caleb still has his soul right? Of course, he does that's how he controls you all. If this gets out to Caleb sweetie, I'll be the one to devour that pure soul of yours." You raise a brow in question gesturing to his chest. Marcus nods and snaps his fingers. Your requested drink appearing before you. You raised the glass to your lips and let your shoulders drop. "This is why I love you, Marcus."

"Am I no longer your eyes and ears?"

"No." You could see Marcus's disappointment flash in his eyes. "You've been upgraded to my personal assistant."

Marcus felt honored. "Oh wow. Does this mean I don't have to be behind the bar anymore?"

"Only when we come to the club, but other than that..." You snap your fingers nonchalantly. Caleb's stupid stamp floated off of Marcus's wrist. The poor man looked as though he'd cry.

He did.

"Consider it a gift, sweetie. That's all you're gonna get...really." You shrug. You didn't like getting too sentimental with others. Marcus palmed his mouth. Covering it to muffle his cries. You looked around hopefully no one was watching the scene unfold before you. You shrink in your stool and take another sip of your drink. You took another gulp of your drink, enjoying the flavor it had, it was indeed what you had asked for.

"Marcus." You called his name softly when the tears finally stopped flowing. "Look at me." Marcus's head raised and eyes widened with fear once again. "Stop, please."

"S-Sorry. I'm good, I'm good." You nodded with him, your eyes widened with concern. "Thank you..." He muttered softly.

"Sure." You laughed out nervously wanting his hands off you. “Marcus.” You spoke sternly this time which brought him to pay attention and made him stop touching you. “How about another drink, yeah.” You shifted the mood, hoping to reassure him by taking his mind off of being freed by you. "Surprise me this time."

"Yes- Yes, right away." He composed himself as best he could and began to make your new drink.

Luke's gaze was fixated on the bartender's shaky hands, having caught the last of your conversation with him before he grew close. It was something that caught his attention to no end. A burning hole in his brain as he wondered why you had such an effect on people, good and bad. He wanted to know more about you. So he sat on the stool right beside you.

He turned towards you; his hands were resting on the counter, as he tapped along to the melody playing throughout the club. Luke's gaze met yours, raising a brow as he took notice that you were eyeing him. It made him a little self-conscious, but he hid that fact with an amused smirk.

"Nice shoes." His grin brightened. "I'm more of a vans guy myself but I think it's time I make a drastic brand change." Luke turned in the stool, next to the very pretty girl, who looked completely out of place. Your leather jacket and dark blue denim, not to mention your incredibly red shoes, didn't fit the club's dress code.

You peered over the glass in your hand. Your eyes narrowed curiously at the curly-haired stranger who unashamedly sat in the vacant seat next to yours. Surely he had to be pulling your hair. When you saw no falter in his charming smile, you played along. Hoping to amuse the poor lad unaware of the person you were, of your identity. Most would cower at the sight of you but his lack of knowledge told you all you needed to. He was clueless...and a pretty sight. You set your drink down and smirk, turning your full self towards him.

"Thanks. I had them dyed with the blood of the damned." You stuck your leg out, tilting your head in admiration of your shoes.

Your brows pinched closer together upon his laugh. You were confused by his reaction, what had been so funny? You were being your most sincere.

He snickered again, trying hard not to laugh, in fear of offending you. He let out another brief laugh, trying his best not to lose it. It was the way your words so casually rolled off your tongue that got him. He smirked. "Damned you say. Does that mean that you had to damn them yourself or were they already damned and you just decided to take advantage of the opportunity." He joked around, though curiosity filled his mind as he wondered what your answer would be. He sure wasn't expecting your sweet angelic tune that escaped you as a response. Your head fell back. Marcus stilled, looking at the new stranger who caused such a reaction from you and then at you. Was this a stroke you were having and he was completely unaware? He opted to join in, his fake laughs weren't noticed by you luckily.

He eyed Luke as though he put the moon in the sky. He got you to laugh. Completely unheard of.

Luke felt satisfied. His grin widened as he softly joined in on your bubbled display of joy. "I mean they do make killer shoes. I kind of want some now." He shrugged with half interest.

Marcus finally released a stifled laugh. The poor man was holding it in, not knowing where you two would take the conversation. "I can't say I've ever had the urge to wear shoes made of human blood," He spoke in an attempt to keep the energy at bay.

"Well," Luke started, "they're rather fashionable, right? I mean, I know leather clothing is still in style, you're perfectly on top of that trend already." He joked back casually. You felt something strange in your chest as he raked his eyes up and down your entirety. "All I'd be missing is the shoes..." He bit his lip.

"Yeah?" You looked back at him amused. "You want a pair?"

"Why not?" He entertained the idea.

"What is happening?" Marcus mouthed in shock.

What was happening indeed? Didn't he know who you were? His lack of fear was the most shocking part of this whole interaction. Surely he wasn't one of Caleb's newest edition of collected ghosts. Another soul he had taken, or made Willie lure him in to take it while he's blindsighted by the pretty picture Caleb paints for him. For once you wanted to lay your claim on a soul. To rub it in Caleb's face for stealing your portion of the bargain. You extended your hand out to him and asked him what any wise girl would do. You asked for his name.

"I'm Luke." He took your hand gently. Unaware of the marking you placed under his skin. Your bargains, your markings, were more subtle than Caleb's, where he wanted to show them off, you kept yours hidden behind a mere handshake. Along with the idea of never actually telling them you had done so.

"Pleasure." Your grip on his hand remained firm and tight as your eyes searched his own. You could already envision Caleb brewing with envy once he sees you and Luke engaging in a friendly, and dare you say romantic conversation. Luke didn't appear to know the full truth of what was going on. He appeared to be so blindly curious and unaware. So you went ahead and lit a spark to that curiosity as you pressed a finger to the back of his hand, caressing the length of it.

"Luke," you said slowly, testing it out. The name sounded nice; it rolled off your tongue perfectly. Luke, Luke, Luke. He would be your plaything for tonight, perhaps another time as well should you choose to extend that privilege. You felt a tinge of regret for marking a soul as pure as his, you could feel his warmth the second he sat down, but that was soon washed away with his charming grin; it made you want to make him break his moral barriers all the more. He seemed so different from the others, he was your next perfect leverage on Caleb. "I'm Y/n." You leaned forward, Luke's eyes falling in a daze at your sultry voice and doe eyes.

"Y/n..." He breathed out, mesmerized.

"Marcus I want a private space." You turned to the poor lad who was still stunned that this one guy alone was able to sweeten you down like honey. Get on your good side in the blink of an eye. "Now!"

-

Willie had paced back and forth, going over what he would say to Caleb as he waited for him at the bottom steps of his dressing room. When the man of the hour finally descended the steps Willied perked up.

"Oh hey um, Caleb." He smiled. "I brought those ghosts I met, um it's still cool they're here right?"

"Of course William! I even reserved a special table for them." Caleb shrugged him off nonchalantly.

"Woah! Uh alright, um thank you!" Willie reeled back, not expecting him to do something so nice.

"No, no, thank you!" Caleb sipped at his tea and watched as Willie made his way to leave but turned the wrong way.

"That way!" Willie laughed as he turned to go in the right direction this time.

"Hey William, while I have you here. Make sure to let me know when Y/n has arrived. I need at least half an hour to ready myself before her arrival."

"Oh, Y/n? She's already here." Willie shook his head confused, hadn't he known?

Certainly not, it appeared.

"What!" Caleb screeched, making Willie to flinch. The cup in his hands clattered onto the steps. Willie shrunk in on himself as Caleb berated him. "You useless monkey, why do I even keep you around? Oh my god, I'm not even dressed. Quick go make sure she gets everything she wants. Hopefully not my soul...Whatever she wants give it to her. A lifer's soul, it's hers. I don't care. I need to go look presentable. Go!" Willie straightened out as he walked away from Caleb's dressing room with haste. Caleb ordered staff to make sure you remained in a good mood. He was late, you had been earlier than expected and he was about to lose his shit.

-

When Caleb dispersed from the dancers and band, you had rolled your eyes as he made his entrance past the golden curtain.

He gulped nervously when his eyes danced back and forth between you sitting back on the sofa, and Luke kissing down your neck like a lovesick puppy. You hadn't stopped his attack on your skin. Caleb straightened out, clearly his throat to make his presence known.

"I don't like being kept waiting, Caleb, I have better things to do." Your voice broke in soft breaths as Luke found your sweet spot.

"Y/n, nice to have you back my sweet. We've missed your presence at the club and I-"

"Don't patronize me, ghost." You rolled your head back against the cushion.

"Ah, I see you've found our special guest of the night." He laughed nervously. "Have we bored you already, the night has only just begun." Caleb was thankful he didn't have to find you in a much more compromising situation. As he watched your hand run through Luke’s hair, a pang of emotion rose in him, jealousy? Anger? Regret? He felt his emotions bubble over as he watched Luke's lips meet your collarbones, his hands running down your back to your waist. Caleb bit his lip to keep an audible curse from escaping his lips.

You smirked, he was lucky that Luke wasn't getting too ahead of himself, but seeing how things were playing out at the moment it wouldn't take much for Luke to slip. Your attention turned back to him once Luke's lips had moved elsewhere on your body.

"Caleb, how stupid do you think I am?" Your question had caught him off guard.

He was speechless for a few moments before he regained his composure. He laughed a bit in your face. "Y/n, it's obvious," He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "He's a soul I promise to you in our deal. I got two more waiting on you out on the floor."

Luke's head dropped lower to your chest, his kisses stooping lower down your blouse. Caleb's eyes narrowed at the sight.

"Luke's already mine." You sigh in contentment. "I meant about the souls you’re taking for yourself, Caleb."

"What of them?" Caleb's face remained emotionless. He kept his arms crossed while your head was nuzzled into Luke's neck, you were barely holding on to the conversation while your chest had been preoccupied with Luke's hot breaths. His hands slide up and down your body.

"You can't even deny you've broken our bargain." You reminded him, your mind clouded with the sensation of his kisses. "You know what happens when people cross me, Caleb." You giggled as your breath hitched with every word spoken. You placed a hand over Luke's curls to stop him from continuing his kisses down your torso, his lips rested on your chest instead.

"Surely, we can work something out." He begins softly.

"I don't think so." You spoke plainly, your eyes finally focusing on Caleb. Your hands placed on the back of the sofa, you were feeling a bit confident and sassy, something Caleb hadn't seen for a good while, not with him at least. You sit up causing Luke to fall off you. You grip his chin gently and turn his face towards Caleb. You watch as the ghost shrinks back into the shell of the man that he is as Luke's gorgeous brown eyes flash red at him.

You staked your claim on him. "You touch the other two, and this all goes away." You gesture to the room, to the entirety of the club. "I’m going to need Willie's soul by the strike of midnight. Poor thing needs a break from you seeing as you can't do your job properly. He's mine until I say so. You understand, Caleb." You recline back into the cushion.

"Yes ma'am." He nods, feeling like a child being scolded.

"You can see yourself out now. It's like you said; the night is only getting started." Your angelic laugh is one for his nightmares. Not to mention your red eyes. You hold his gaze as you push down on Luke's curls, his body sinking to the carpet before you. "You might not want to stay around for this next part Caleb. Wouldn't want to traumatize you as it is." Caleb gasps and turns in place of the sound of your zipper being pulled.

Caleb's jaw went slack. His head tilted to the side. He tried hard to hide his surprise, but he wasn't sure what he should have said in this occurrence. "Right… I will be leaving. Enjoy yourselves." He uttered stiffly. Caleb retreated out of the room.

Luke's warm hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them slightly. His lips moved back up to your neck. His fingertips trailed lightly along your collarbone, his breath hot, you could feel his blood rushing. Once you were sure Caleb was out of earshot you pulled Luke up by the collar of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" Luke's dazed-out look had you feeling a smidge of guilt. "I thought we were having fun?" He breathed out a laugh as he tried to lean in to kiss you.

"It's not that kind of business, baby. Another time." You gripped his chin and sweetly placed a kiss on his lips. 

[moonsprcngs]

I love love love your writting. can you do an enemies to lovers Sirius Black one shot? idk like make it hella dramatic, like fighting in the rain n then they kiss, or like a truth or dare n they have to kiss or sum. again love u sm have a good day stay healthy

hi my lovely, thank you so so much for the compliment & the request! i'm so flattered that u love my writing. i love YOU and i hope this did ur idea justice! <3 i also decided to make the reader a hufflepuff in this cause i thought it'd be a cute lil asset, hope u don't mind!

sirius black x fem!hufflepuff!reader <3

One thing about you is that you could not stand Sirius Black.

Everybody seemed to love him. Not just the students, but teachers too; even Professor McGonagall couldn't hide her smirk behind her hand when she often gave him a good scolding.

Really, the only one of the four marauders you could stand was Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was okay, though he was far too much of a tag-a-long for your liking, and James Potter was practically Sirius' right hand man. Remus was your Potions partner and he was, admittedly, as much of a sweetheart as a marauder could get, often helping you study and walking you back to your common room when he caught you asleep in the library during his prefect rounds (which only happened once... or maybe twice).

"They're not so bad," he promised you one Potions class, watching for your reaction with a sheepish grin as Sirius and James messed with Snape's potion at the back of the room. "They're actually really nice once you, y'know, get to know them."

"Nice?" you questioned him, scoffing out a laugh and grimacing at the sound of Sirius' laughter bellowing through the classroom. "Need I remind you what Sirius did to me in third year?"

"I know, I know! But he's changed, Y/N, honestly! He's more... mature?"

Even Remus couldn't quite believe the words that had just left his mouth as you both watched the boy in question actually spit into Severus' cauldron. "Oh yeah, Rem, so mature."

One thing about Sirius Black is that he could not stand you.

He'd always believed what he did to you in your third year was harmless, something that would be forgotten within a month or two and not to be dwelled on. He knew you harboured a secret little crush on him at the time, so he figured... why not?

He really did mean it when he asked you out, though. Sure, he didn't know you too well; you were really just another Hufflepuff that he shared some classes with. But Remus seemed to like you, so he figured it could at least be a good way to make a new friend if nothing else.

"Hey."

You looked up from your book on Herbology at the rude interruption, and of all the people you were expecting to be standing before you, you were surprised at the sight of Sirius Black. You cleared your throat awkwardly, willing the immediate blush to disappear from your cheeks. "Hi?"

It came out as more of a question than you intended it to, but he grinned at you nonetheless and your face felt warm, was it warm in there?

You did a quick scan of the library in search of any of his smug little friends, but you saw no one. Just him.

He didn't wait for an invitation before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down, still grinning ear to ear. "You free Saturday?"

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in surprise, your yellow tie suddenly feeling far too restrictive around your neck as you somehow managed to splutter out a "yes". Sirius pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back (pink and white roses) and offered them to you with the same lopsided grin. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks? Two o'clock?"

The only problem was... James had gotten into his head.

That same afternoon, Sirius entered his dorm with an air of confidence, not dissimilar to usual, but he had a different sort of spring in his step.

Remus and James were sat on their respective beds. The former looked up at him over his book and raised a single eyebrow, clearly noticing something different about his entrance, though James didn't look up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading and paid no mind.

"Afternoon, boys," he announced, his voice dripping with glee as he crashed down onto his bed.

"Afternoon, Pads," Remus responded, a curious tone to his voice as he kept his eyebrow raised. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Scored a date," he said, far too matter-of-factly for the grin he was still sporting. "With Y/N."

Remus' book fell shut on the ground with a thud, jaw dropped open and lost for words as James finally cocked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Y/N L/N. Y'know, the Hufflepuff girl in our Potions class?"

"And Herbology, and Charms," Remus finally composed himself, now staring at Sirius with a pointed look, well aware of his friend's... reputation. "Look, Pads. I know she likes you, but you have to be careful about this. Y/N is my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt her."

James suddenly barked out a laugh, finally dropping his magazine as he engaged in the conversation. "Be careful? There's nothing to be careful about, Moony. As if Sirius is actually going to go on a date with a Hufflepuff. Don't embarrass yourself like that, Padfoot."

"Don't be such a dick, Prongs," Remus spat, tossing a cushion at his mate and hitting him square in the head. "She's my friend."

Sirius said nothing.

So the next Saturday rolled around and you arrived at the Three Broomsticks at five minutes to two. Though, five minutes to two became two o'clock, which became two thirty, which became three, which soon became four.

And Sirius never showed.

The next day at breakfast, you'd found him, slapped him across the face, threw the bouquet of pink and white roses back at him and left without a word.

Sirius Black did not like to be publicly humiliated. He decided there and then that he wanted nothing else to do with you.

It wasn't until your sixth year rolled around that Remus realised things were changing.

Gryffindor had just won their first match of the season against Slytherin and, as usual, there was a huge party in their common room.

You weren't much of a partier, usually preferring to stay in the comfort of your dorm with a book that you and Remus were bound to discuss within the next few days. Of course, you'd attend the parties when Hufflepuff won, but you were never one to join in with the other houses.

Although he knew this, Remus Lupin had a plan.

He was beginning to grow sick of the constant complaining on both sides of his friends. It was always "Come on, Moony, she's so bloody weird" or "Look at him, Remus, how on earth can you stand to be friends with him?" and, quite frankly, he'd had enough.

He loved the marauders, of course; they were his best friends, his brothers. But he also loved you, and though he knew that Sirius' young and dumb actions in third year hurt you, he really wasn't lying when he said he'd changed.

Yes, Sirius would call you weird or strange or annoying to his friends, but Remus knew he was deflecting. He saw the way something in his eyes changed when he watched you enter Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of your fifth year. He saw the way he'd been secretly pining over you for the last year.

Likewise, he knew the same went for you too. No matter how badly he hurt you, your feelings for Sirius never really left. He saw the way your gaze lingered on his friend for just a little bit too long. He knew the way you shook your head and muttered "what a dick" under your breath every time you looked away was a cover up.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing by the time Remus convinced you to join him. It had taken a lot of begging and a fair few promises to buy you more books before you agreed, and you found yourself awkwardly at Remus' side as you entered through the portrait hole.

It wasn't long until James had found his friend and immediately tugged him away. Remus tried to fight it but found him impossible, shooting you an apologetic smile before you lost sight of him. You made a mental note to demand another promise of more books when you found him again.

You accepted defeat and made your way over to the drinks table, in need of at least something before you inevitably called it a night early and headed back to the comfort of your own common room.

Smoothing the fabric of your dress down, you suddenly felt very out of place in the yellow and white floral fabric, but an unfortunately familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts before you got too caught up in them.

"L/N?"

You immediately snapped your head up and fought the urge to roll your eyes at the source of the voice. "Black."

Sirius seemed surprised at your presence, his eyebrows raised and an interesting sort of smirk gracing his features as he looked down at you. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Remus invited me," you kept your answers short, trying to slow your rapidly beating heart as you reached for the firewhiskey and flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Is that a crime?"

"No." His smirk only grew, seemingly amused at your snap back as he kept his eyes on you. "Not a crime at all, love."

He knew what he was doing. How dare he try and flirt with you now after what he did before.

"Don't call me that," your response came immediately and you felt yourself trying to fight the shiver that was so desperate to creep down your spine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy and somebody to stay far away from."

That was an hour ago now, and since then you had already downed way too many cups of firewhiskey for your body to handle. You were so set on trying to avoid Sirius that you tried to make yourself forget he was even there at all.

An hour became two and Sirius ended up finding you back at the drinks table again, barely even holding yourself up as you tried to pour yourself a cup of whatever alcohol was nearest to you. Sirius, though definitely not sober, was painfully so compared to you, and he watched in slight amusement as you managed to get more of the liquid on your dress than in the cup.

"You alright over there?" His voice snapped you out of your pitiful concentration and in turn made you jump, even more of the liquid spilling down you when you did.

"Hello, Sirius," you responded, turning to look at him with a big smile and almost stumbling into his chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you as he caught you.

In your clouded state of mind, you couldn't for the life of you remember that you're supposed to hate this guy, and instead only found memories of the longing gazes when you racked your mind. You'd regret this tomorrow; you most certainly could not handle your drink.

"Hello, Y/N," Sirius raised his eyebrows at your state as he answered you, still amused as he copied your tone of voice. "You look like you've had enough."

You gasped as if he had just suggested you were You-Know-Who himself. "I have not!"

Despite your best efforts, your words came out slurred and Sirius knew Remus would not be happy that you're left out here alone in this state. He cast a quick glance around the common room but couldn't find a single glimpse of his mate in the crowd, and he let out a quiet curse under his breath.

I'm supposed to hate her, he thought to himself, letting his eyes fall back on your smiling face. She embarrassed you Sirius, shoved a bouquet of bloody roses at you in front of the entire Great Hall to see. But why did she have to grow up and be so bloody pretty?

"Let's get you back to your common room, yeah?" He suggested, gently taking the cup from you and placing it back down on the table.

He admittedly felt bad for you. Remus was nowhere to be found and he couldn't just let you get all the way back to the Hufflepuff common room by yourself in this state. You're just being a decent guy, Sirius, he told himself again. You'd do this for anyone.

You either didn't seem to hear him or his words didn't register in your brain, because when he placed a hand on the small of your back to carefully lead you through the crowd and back through the portrait hole, you only spoke with a grin.

"Are we going on a walk?"

"Yeah, love. We're going on a walk." Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, but deep down he felt a little tense. With the state you were in, anyone could've taken advantage of you, and he was glad he found you before anyone else did. Maybe it was the little bit of firewhiskey still running through his veins, but Merlin, Black, the fuck is wrong with you tonight?

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room was slow and quiet, and Sirius ended up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and taking most of your weight against him to stop your constant stumbling.

Once you'd reached the portrait, you muttered the password and allowed Sirius to half-carry you through, still not completely aware of what was going on, and the pair of you only stopped when you reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

He'd never been in this part of the castle before, and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips when he noticed it smelt like a lovely mixture of flowers and freshly baked cookies.

You turned to face him once you reached the stairs and something suddenly clicked in your drunken mind.

"Sirius? Is that you?!"

He chuckled quietly again and nodded his head, raising his eyebrows with an amusement smile. "Yeah, it's me. You're back in your common room now, yeah?"

You took a moment to process his words through the thick fog clouding your brain and nodded your head, still smiling too before looking down at your dress. Your smile fell into a sad frown. "Oh no, it's ruined! It was so pretty!"

The boy in front of you took notice at the alcohol stains on your dress and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still pretty. I mean, you look pretty. I mean-"

If you did notice him stumbling over his words and the blush that rose to his warm cheeks, you didn't show it (though Sirius doubted very much that you did notice in your state). You simply smiled again, turning away from Sirius without another word as you all but skipped up the stairs.

It wasn't until he neared the portrait hall to leave again that he heard your quiet little drunken giggle. "Sirius Black thinks I'm pretty."

That was months ago now and you and Sirius hadn't even uttered a word to each other about that night.

Actually, if it was possible, you started avoiding each other more.

You were finally starting to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sirius Black, but that scared you. How could you fall for him again after he stood you up in your third year? He left you there for two hours, your single butterbeer looking pathetic in front of you as Madame Rosmerta shot you sympathetic smiles from behind the counter every now and again.

You hadn't been in there since.

Little did you know, Sirius was avoiding you for exactly the same reason.

Okay, perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit that he liked you. James was a dick that day three years ago and, although Sirius knew the both of them had matured since then, he couldn't help but worry his best friend just wouldn't approve. He knew deep down that James, especially now older, would just want him to be happy, but he was scared.

Remus had been so angry with him when he stood you up that he was also scared to face him again. Would he even believe him or force him to stay away from you for your own wellbeing?

The rain was pelting down heavily in early February as you trudged into Professor Slughorn's Potions class. The castle at this time of year was sickening, with pink and red paper hearts hovering over your heads in the hallways and fluttering around the tables in the Great Hall as Valentine's Day drew closer.

Even your professors had taken on the Valentine's theme, and you couldn't help but groan as you gathered around Slughorn's desk with the other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"Amortentia," the professor announced, and a group of Gryffindors standing behind you giggled to themselves. "The most powerful love potion in the world. If brewed correctly, the scent will be different to everyone according to what attracts them."

James Potter scoffed on the other side of the crowd and whispered something in Sirius' ear. The latter laughed loudly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

"Mr Black?" Slughorn spoke through the boy's laughter, keeping his calm demeanour. "Perhaps, since you find this so amusing, you'd like to demonstrate for us?"

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Sirius just laughed again and made his way through the group, going to stand by the professor with a cocky smirk. "I bet it's just a load of old bollocks anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out, Mr Black. Tell us what you smell, won't you?"

You watched as Sirius leant over the cauldron and you took a moment to take in his appearance. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned a quarter of the way, his red and gold tie hanging loosely around his neck, and though you willed it not to, your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly.

At that moment, you realised that, if Slughorn was right, Sirius was about to reveal the scent of the one he loved.

"Smells like..." his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he took in the scent of the potion, "vanilla, fresh cookies, and..."

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face as he muttered quietly.

"And, uh, roses."

Whether it was the intensity of Sirius' gaze or the fact that everybody had turn round to look at you that made you storm out of the Potions classroom, you couldn't be sure.

Not even the heaviness of the rain could stop you as you tried to get as far away from the castle as possible. What the fuck just happened?

"Y/N?"

You shook your head, refusing to turn around as you continued walking. "Leave me alone, Sirius."

"Y/N, please-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Merlin's beard, L/N, would you stop and listen to me for one bloody second!"

He'd caught up to you now, throwing himself in front of you to stop you on your course. You'd almost crashed into his chest, and Sirius suddenly remembered how you'd done the same thing at that party four months ago.

"Sirius, please-" you begged quietly, trying to push past him.

You didn't get very far as he gently grabbed your elbow and brought you back in front of him. "No, Y/N, we're going to talk. For the first time, we're going to bloody talk."

"About what, Black? What could you possibly want to talk to me about? You haven't wanted to talk to me for the last three years, why start now?!"

He couldn't help it as his voice raised slightly, and you watched him grab at his dripping wet hair in frustration. "I just openly admitted my feelings for you in front of the entire fuckin' class and you won't even talk to me!"

"Because it's bullshit, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped at this, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head slightly. "What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"This is just another one of your plans to humiliate me, just like you did three years ago. I'm not falling for it this time."

Successfully this time, you pushed past him, shoulders brushing together as you did. He tried to grab your wrist to pull you back but you shook it out of his grip and continued walking away from him again.

"Y/N-"

"No."

"Y/N, come on-"

"I said no, Sirius."

"Y/N, I fucking love you!"

His words halted you in place. Neither of you spoke for a moment, and the only sounds you could hear was the violent pattering of the rain and his heavy breathing.

You shook your head slowly, not even turning around to face him. "You can't. You can't do this shit to me, Sirius."

"Why not? It's true!"

His words dripped with exasperation. He seemed desperate now, his body moving back in front of you again and Godric, were those just raindrops on your face or had you been crying too?

"Sirius, I can't- I can't let myself be hurt by you again," your voice cracked slightly as you refused to look at him, feeling your throat clog pathetically. "I liked you. I really bloody liked you and when you stood me up I was so humiliated."

Something in his face softened at your words, and his voice grew quieter. "Y/N, I didn't know-"

"I haven't been on a single date since, Sirius. I can't let anyone even attempt to get close to me like that because every time they do I think they're just gonna stand me up anyway, because that's what Sirius Black did. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to fall in love with you when-"

But suddenly all words were forgotten as his lips were on yours.

Sirius' hands were now on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted faintly of cigarettes and some chocolate that was no doubt stolen from Remus, and it took a moment to process what was happening. But you kissed him back.

Godric, did you kiss him back.

It was a few moments later when you pulled away, his forehead finding place against yours. Neither of you spoke for a moment and your eyes took their time to flutter open, only to find him already looking at you.

"You love me, you said it yourself. Give me a chance," his voice came as a whisper, his breath fanning against your mouth as his eyes searched your features desperately.

You nodded your head breathlessly, your hands sliding up around his shoulders as you gave him a pathetically pointed look. "You pull that third year shit ever again and you're dead."

"I swear. Merlin, I swear."

You laughed quietly and Sirius broke out into a wide smile. The silence that took over you both was comfortable, the rain providing a settling background noise despite the cold that chilled your bones

"For the record, I would have smelled you too."

[palskippah]

PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW AMBS AND BAL (MOVIE VERSION) ON THEIR WEDDING DAY KISSINF AGHHHH

HII I'm not good at drawing people kissing in the lips but I got these!!

References and some thoughts under the cut!

-One of the ways I imagine them marrying is through the civil (? whatever it's called in English), where Nimona would be right behind Ballister when he's signing like, sign, Ballister, sign the contract now! like that scene in Shrek 4 with Rumpelstiltskin

-Neither of them carried a bouquet, but they got one anyways just to throw it (Ambrosius did)

-Apparently in some Mexican weddings they throw the groom in the air to celebrate him and I love the idea, so both Ballister and Ambrosius get thrown in the air djfkdf

>(better if they're part of the crowd that is throwing them, and then it's them catching eachother when they fall aaa)

-Also the dancing, imagine it with any sort of music in the background and both of them dancing together and then just deciding to have fun on their own and doing whatever dance moves, even if they have nothing to do with the music (like there's cumbia sounding and Ambrosius is doing the gangnam style and Ballister is throwing it back or something 😭)

-They have a lot of fun wooo

-Also wanted to draw them in traditional clothes too wiwiw I hope you know what I mean with the 'groom pose' sjdksd both hands held in front of them

-Based this (unfinished) thingy on a TikTok I saw of 'if I (anxious person) were to get married' and thought of both of them but drew it with Ambrosius.

-It goes like:

Ambrosius: Hey! So- Just wanted to confirm, is the wedding still on? (Ballister answers) Ambrosius: Yes? (Ballister says something) Cool! I'll see you there then! Ambrosius, in his blue wedding clothes: I'll be the guy in blue. (Ballister says something) Yeah! Okay, bye, love you :D

>And at the other end of the thing, there was Ballister all nervously rambling to a very bored Nimona about what if Ambrosius calls it off last minute? Or what if he regrets marrying me right now? I can't just ask either, that'd be- and then there's the call and he's like, yes, it's still on! :D Yes I know, and remember I'll be wearing a dark sherwani. See you there, love you too :D

>And then they're both a bit more relaxed with that sjdfks (they're some rooms away from each other)

>[btw, those are supposed to be Ambrosius' moms helping him get the final details in his clothes done, like patting him to iron out the sleeves (they're ironed already) and placing his headwear and stuff]

-They're still pretty nervous tho, so, based in a video I watched, imagine them like:

Person marrying them: Now, I, Ballister. Ballister and Ambrosius, at the same time: I, Ballister- Ballister: ? I'm Ballister. Ambrosius: No, it's me. Ballister: Oh, okay. Ballister: No, wait what--

-Ambrosius: Hi, I'm Ballister's husband :D

>Ambrosius: This is my husband, Ballister. We're married :DD

>Ambrosius: We're the Goldenhearts :DDD

>>

-(some of the references)

That's it!

[runnning-outof-time]

Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @asherlockfandom

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking

Word Count: 3475

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.

"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.

"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.

"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.

"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.

"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.

"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.

"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.

"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."

"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.

"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.

"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.

"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.

"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.

Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.

Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.

Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.

"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.

"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.

"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.

"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.

She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.

"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.

Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.

"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.

"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.

"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."

"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.

These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.

"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."

(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.

The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.

(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.

Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.

"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"

"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."

"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.

"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"

Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.

(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.

"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.

"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.

"I would," she affirmed with a nod.

"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.

"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.

"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.

The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.

She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.

Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.

The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.

A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.

"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.

"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"

It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."

"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."

"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.

Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.

"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.

"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.

"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.

(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.

"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"

Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.

She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.

A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.

Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.

But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.

"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.

"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.

"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.

"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.

"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"

"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.

"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.

(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.

(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.

"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.

"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.

"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.

"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.

"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.

"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."

"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”

Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.

“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.

“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”

“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.

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