#{ he falls in love with the details || aesthetics }

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.5

Idiot.

The voice in my head is persistent. It’s been over two months but it’s not letting up.

I try to focus on the lines, struggling to keep the faint remnants of my Tartosan accent from creeping into Llama Man’s commanding voice. It’s always more difficult just after I’ve been home.

Idiot.

Images from the last year keep flashing by, little details seared into my brain. Her green eyes. Her smile. The delicate birthmarks artfully strewn across her face. I used to insist on kissing each of them goodbye before I left and it always made her laugh.

It was the best sound in the world.

Idiot.

The more recent images are a different story. Her tears. The look of shock and confusion in her eyes. She didn’t understand, of course, and some days I’m not sure I do either. Am I an idiot for leaving her? Or for letting myself fall in love with her in the first place?

Both?

“Alright, Paul, that was good, but let’s do an extra take just to be sure.”

I nod at the sound technician and start over.

“I’ve sent the files off to Mike. Personally, I don’t think he’ll demand another round, the last two takes were flawless.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry for dragging you in for pick-ups again, I’ve been feeling a bit off lately.”

“Hey, it’s a pay check. And I’m going to need it for the move. We want to get settled into the new house before my son’s wedding so we’re already packing.”

“Did you find a job in Henford yet?”

“Not yet, but my wife got an offer. We’ll make it work. My kid is the only family I have left, so if he moves abroad, we follow. And I never liked staying in one place for too long anyway, I get restless.”

“Well, best of luck over there, Charles. The new sound tech will have some big shoes to fill.”

“Thanks, Paul. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

Charles leaves, and I turn on the coffee machine.

I’ve just finished pouring two mugs when Lee arrives.

“Oh, you must have read my mind, love, I am positively dying for a coffee right now.”

“When are you not?”

Lee settles onto the sofa with a sigh.

“It’s been one of those weeks, deadlines put such a damper on my creativity. But how was Tartosa? Did you have a nice birthday?”

“It was fine. I didn’t feel like making it a huge thing, but my mother had arranged a family dinner at the vineyard.”

“Ah, just an intimate and completely non-threatening gathering with fifteen to twenty people, then.”

I lean back against the counter and take a long sip of the coffee to avoid responding. It’s still too hot, and I grimace as the liquid burns my mouth. Idiot.

Lee isn’t so easily deterred, though.

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to see her again?”

“Lee, first of all, she blocked me. On my birthday, no less. So I’m going to take that as a big fat hint and respect her wishes. Second, I broke up with her because it was a dead end. She’s not going to settle down for another decade, and when she does, she’s not going to pick some fifty year old relic.”

Lee raises an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, I said it. Sorry to break it to you, Lee, but you’re old. Ancient. Practically dust.”

“I’m choosing to ignore your hurtful remarks because you’re clearly heartbroken and out of your mind with grief.”

I snort. “Sorry. I’m fine, really, I’m just annoyed at myself.”

“For irrationally breaking up with the love of your life or for stubbornly refusing to reconsider?”

“For being an idiot in general, I guess. I knew it was a bad idea. I even told her as much the first time I met her. But then I just had to go back and talk to her again like a complete dumbass and she practically invited herself back to my hotel. How could I say no to that?”

Lee chuckles. “Oh, but you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t. I mean, she’s not exactly my type, but I can still appreciate the aesthetics, as it were.”

“Right? And that might even have been fine if it never went any further, but I got carried away and kept seeing her even though everyone could tell it was going to end badly. We’re both better off like this, I’ll get over it.”

Lee just looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

“Are you sure? I may be a dusty old relic but as far as I’m aware, the only way you could possibly know that she blocked you is if you spent your birthday trying to look her up.”

“Thanks, detective. It was a moment of weakness, you don’t need to rub it in my face.”

“I’m not trying to rub anything in your face, love, I know it’s not your thing. But you were clearly serious about her if you were planning to bring her to Tartosa. And just because the poor girl understandably got slightly intimidated, you drop her like a newborn giraffe. Why not give her some more time?”

“I didn’t… Lee, it was the sensible thing to do! I just turned forty, I can’t just spend years waiting for her to make up her mind and hope for the best.”

“I don’t share your fetish for monogamy, but I believe all relationships are like that, you can never be certain. But you’ve always been stubborn so I’ll just give you the usual break-up advice. Get a haircut, hit the gym, put yourself back out there. Will you at least see my stylist?”

“Never. I am not brave enough to let Jessica Clemons near my wardrobe.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #paul romeo #charlie ward #lee thompson #oh hi charlie #bye charlie? #two protagonists? in this economy? #it's more likely than you think

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Have His Cake And Eat It Too

Male Serial Killer Yandere x Gender Neutral Immortal Reader (CW: Noncon, blood, violence, murder, death, cannibalism and reader forced into cannibalism, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, cursed immortal reader) Word Count: 500 (This is really bloody and dark compared to what I normally write, but it is also a drabble and does not contain the usual level of detail my other fics do, if you have played boyfriend to death and its sequel you may recognize some similarities between those characters and my Serial Killer Yandere, he is a bit of a mix between Strade, Ren, and Lawrence, though I still feel he is unique.)

Imagine there is a serial killer loose in your area. He finds people that meet his criteria, the specific personality and aesthetic that he desires in a partner, and he falls head over heels in love with them. He kidnaps them, doting on them, feeding them, clothing them, bathing them. But his love for them grows and grows. Serial Killer Yandere rapes them, forcing himself inside so he can feel them surround his cock. Serial Killer Yandere starts to cut them more and more, enjoying the sight of beautiful red blood on their otherwise flawless skin. But Serial Killer Yandere needs them to be a part of them. Serial Killer Yandere needs to be closer to them. Serial Killer Yandere really can’t help it, his love is just so strong. Serial Killer Yandere cuts them open and grips their heart, feeling it beat in his hand as they slowly bleed out. He consumes it, he held their very life in his hands and made it a part of him. But now he is alone again and needs a new darling. Serial Killer Yandere meets you for a date. You are exactly what he wants, even better than the ones that came before you. He kidnaps you like all the others after drugging your drink. You wake up with a chain on your ankle, dressed in delicate clothing. He dotes on you. He bathes you. He feeds you. He soothes you. He fucks you so hard just to see those beautiful tears stream down your face, the prettiest tears he has ever seen. Serial Killer Yandere loves you more and more, very quickly. Serial Killer Yandere can’t help himself, he knows he will miss you but he must be closer. His hand is in your chest, gripping your heart. Your blood leaves you as everything fades. You die. While you are dying he has never felt more in love, but once you are gone the familiar emptiness is quick to fill him. But you are not like the others. You don’t stay dead. In the morning when he comes to take care of your corpse and appreciate your beauty one last time before burying you with all the rest of his loves he sees that you are fine. You aren’t human. Not anymore. You were cursed to never be allowed to die hundreds of years ago. Serial Killer Yandere is shocked. He thinks he is losing it. Serial Killer Yandere kills you over and over, taking your heart for himself each time. You’re always back the next morning. Serial Killer Yandere becomes thrilled. Serial Killer Yandere force feeds you your own heart and shares it with you sometimes the day after he has killed you again. The curse transfers to him, and he discovers after dying due to an accident one day that he is unable to die. Now Serial Killer Yandere can have his cake and eat it too~ Forever <3

#yandere x reader #violent yandere #yandere boyfriend #gender neutral reader #male yandere x reader #My OCs #My OC Serial Killer Yandere #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere drabble

[ladyelissarose]

Can you do like Hobie smut, your writing is GOOD.

Let it be a jealousy kinda thing I haven't seen much of Hobie being jealous

‘I’ll Show You Jealous’

Hobie Brown aka Spider-Punk x female spider-woman reader. (he calls her ‘webs’)

Trope; best friends to lovers

Warnings; 18+ Smut! NSFW. Jealous sex, it starts quite rough then ends soft. Hobie being Hobie- but jealous ;) slight fingering.. mostly smut y’all .

Summary: Being best friends shouldn’t have any feelings in between right? Especially jealousy when Hobie thinks your hanging around too close to a certain Spider-Man? What does it take for him to come to terms on how he ‘really’ feels?

Authors note; My favorite anon!! I’m sorry it took me a few days to get this out, but I’m glad to say it’s all yours now! I hope you like it, I’ve never written for Hobie before!! Enjoy love!!🫶🏼🌻

“You see? That’s why I think you’re one of the funniest! You’re hilarious and you get my humor!”

An effortless chuckle left your lips as your hand slipped off of Ben Riley’s back, where it had been first when you patted it.

You two had just come back from a short mission, which was as per usual… putting an anomaly where it belonged, and making sure canon took place as it should. Hobie stood in the distance watching you both communicate so freely and happily, like if you had been best friends, like you were with Hobie. I mean, that’s all you too should of been.. best friends.

But in the pit of his stomach and behind his tough and sarcastic behavior about not liking commitment, all he wanted to do was commit his life to you, and make you more than his ‘best friend’. The only thing was.. he didn’t know how to tell or show you. So painfully he witnessed you give away your laughter and touch to someone else, if not others that weren’t him. So to avoid staring at this heartbreak, he went back to his universe.

Soon you had let Ben go and looked for the one that made you smile the biggest, warm your heart, and give you a certainty of safety and care no matter what crazy shit you two did. But, he was no where to be seen. A frown made it to your lips after you had checked everywhere, you even went up to Miguel’s lair to check if Hobie wasn’t lurking around and stealing his lunch- and yet, he wasn’t there. You sat for a minute and thought that maybe he went home, but… he always waited for you to come back from a mission, so you could eat together and go on a short ‘joy swinging’ across the universes.

Hoping you’d find him at his universe, you clicked on your gizmo and went to his place, falling in love with the aesthetic of it all as you arrived, and it reminding you of every detail about Hobie too. You swung around his home- he wasn’t there. At his favorite hideout clubhouse- he wasn’t there. Even stopped by the stand where he usually took a sweet bread or two without being seen- he wasn’t in sight. Finally stopping to take a break, you thought for a few seconds before it clicked for you.

“What the hell… where could you- oh! I know.”

What concerned you though about the place where he could possibly be, was the fact that you told each other that you’d go there if something was wrong or ‘a talk’ needed to happen, meaning it was very serious.

Upon arriving to the tallest skyscraper in your universe, you let out a sigh of relief as you found him there, playing a soft tune on his guitar.

You walked slowly towards him, knowing he’d feel your presence, as his spider senses would tell him immediately. You slid off your mask as you called out,

“Hobie?-“

Hobie’s shoulders tensed as he muttered immediately,

“Jus’ leave me be… please?”

Worry but you as you heard him, his slightly broken voice,

He’s never told you to leave him alone, instead the opposite, always subtly begging you to be around his presence, whether it was him lurking around with your favorite snack, or playing your favorite songs on his guitar. Hobie was smart, he found out ways to keep you around that didn’t include him actually telling or asking you to be… and so far it has worked like magic.

It was your smile that had him loosening up, the little squeals you let out when Mayday was being extra adorable, puppy eyes at the sight of kittens or his favorite of all time, your mere presence that gave him motive to fall for you.

With you he felt free and safe, he knew he’d give up an entire universe if that meant he could be with you. But lately as you’ve been given more privileges, you’ve been a little too absent for his liking, and he didn’t appreciate how you were hanging around Miguel and Ben Riley more than him.

Trust was something you too have built quite strongly sense the start of your friendship, and he should’ve confided in that trust and believe that you haven’t ghosted him for someone else… yet here he was… sadly plucking on his guitar strings to your favorite tune- ‘Vigilante Shit’… thinking that maybe you have.. but here you are. Speaking out to him as if you were desperate for him.

“Hobie please, I can help-“

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

With a scoff you recalled your guys’ words,

“We said we’d come here for something important.. and today I couldn’t find you anywhere.. so I thought this would be the place.. and here you are. So, what’s wrong Hobie?”

He then stood up and mumbled to himself,

“It’s nothing, I shouldn’t of come.”

Your spider senses heard him clearly tho, so before he was about to walk off you genuinely said,

“Hobie.. you know I’m here for you. Regardless of what it is.”

Hobie turned to you and walked close, watching how you didn’t walk back but stayed in place as his sassed,

“Are you sure? Didn’t think you’d be after being with everyone else all the time.”

You sensed his words, and could feel the weight of jealousy in them, it only caused you to realize that he felt just as protective of you, as you did for him… but you hid your jealousy better. So you took the chance to tease him,

“Are you jealous Hobie Brown-“

Rolling his eyes and crossing his arms he pouted defensively,

“No. Absolutely not-“

You tried to tease him more as you pushed the guitar on his shoulder,

“Then what’s wrong? Looks like you are jealous-“

He sent a playful snap at you so you wouldn’t touch his treasure as he did his best to reassure,

“Tis’ nothin’ webs… I promise.”

His closed off attitude told you it was more than nothing, and you wouldn’t have it.. not his half or full lies about what’s going on. Hobie was about to walk away past you, but you grabbed his arm and insisted,

“Hobie! If you don’t do or say something about what’s going on with you I will explo- MMPH!!”

His warm hands got a hold of your face, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips. Eyes going wide open at the shock his actions caused you, but you couldn’t pull yourself away.

Not when you could see the way he had his shut with force, and the how his long lashes that you were always jealous of brush over his cheeks… you couldn’t deny how much you loved every detail about him. Your heart fluttered at the feeling of the cool of his nose ring press up against your nose, and his soft breathing hitting you, his lip ring marking a place on your lip as he gave you a bruising kiss.

You didn’t realize how long it took you admiring what you’ve always loved about him before you reciprocated the kiss, brining him closer to you by the collar of his jacket. But he slightly pushed you away, and before you could interpret something wrong, he muttered against your lips,

“you think I’m jealous webs?”

With a short chuckle you replied with sass,

“I think you’re very jealous Hobie.”

He smirked and webbed you your hands in an instant, your eyes found his with matching glares, filled with desire. He then put you to lay on the edge of the building, your head leaning off as he growled,

“I’ll show you jealous.”

With expert hands he was able to find your hidden zipper and slide down your pants along with your panties, enough to free your cunt for him to touch. Your hands as they were webbed up, hung off the edge, dangling down, stretching you a bit. Hobie pulled you close to him by gripping your thighs tightly, then he tore the web off your wrists with the pick for his guitar.

You were just about to reach for him, but he pushed you back once again, and laying his pick between your teeth as he ordered,

“Love, you keep that there safe for me.. and these hands.. hold onto the edge… don’t touch me until I tell you.. understood?”

You nodded once, taking all his commands in, wanting to meet them all, but Hobie hovered his face over yours and asked calmly,

“Words love.. do you feel ok and safe?”

You knew if you had a problem with something he’d adjust the universe to your liking, but right now you felt good and desperation. So you worded with the pick in between,

“I feel goo’.. I just wan’ you… I nee’ you.”

Pressing a hard kiss to your lips, feeling his favorite metal pick touch him, it stirred him on to take you now. His fingers found your cunt and stuck two in, going knuckle deep as your were soaking and taking him smoothly. With pride he watched your face contort in pleasure, the most beautiful moans leaving your lips because of him.

Your chest heaved for air as he pumped harder and faster, wanting you to come apart by his hands. The beauty of the city lights below you couldn’t compare to you, you were far too bright and gorgeous, so many things at once you were and yet, you were the most fit and complete person he had ever seen.

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, informing him you were near as your moans turned into cries as well. He teased you a bit as he slowed the pace, hearing you cry for ‘him’ had him groan and feeling his pants tighten more.

“H-Hobie! Ah please! Please-“

“What do you want love-“

“More! More please..”

Your eyes teared up as you cried for him, wanting to feel more of him as he had spurred on your high then took it away. He sucked on his fingers, letting out a moan,

“Sweet as always love.. never doubted you..”

Hobie then kissed your face, letting you taste yourself on him as he took the pick from your lips and he unbuckled his pants, sliding them down as he worded to you,

“C’mere love.”

Latching onto him as your arms wrapped around him, he pulled you up into his lap, sitting where you were at the edge, while looking up to you as your face was almost right at his. You both were breathing hard as you ran your hands through his hair and rested the other on his neck, Hobie’s hands exploring your back and thighs while kissing your neck. It was an all new sensation you both felt, not wanting to end it and growing addicted by the second. Hobie’s cock rested between your thighs, hitting his stomach and leaking precum, it had you reaching for it and playing with the red tip. He pulled you in for a kiss as you began to take him into your hands. His hips bucked up as your hands slid up and down his large length, spreading his cum and rubbing the tip with your thumb. He was getting to his high not so slowly, your hands bringing him on faster than he thought, so he abruptly stopped you with a pleading voice,

“Please love, need to feel you.. ready?”

You were already lifting your hips over his tip as you responded,

“I’m so ready.”

It wasn’t long before you slid down on him, your soaked walls taking him in right away. Once he bottomed out you both knew deep down, that you wouldn’t last long.

He was so deep, his tip touching your cervix, Hobie picked you up as he gripped your thighs tightly, then he slid you back down, groaning into your lips at the pleasure he instantly felt. Hobie didn’t care and wasn’t afraid of the position he was in, as he sat at the edge of the skyscraper, with you in his lap taking all of him. He confided in his strength to withhold you, and make you feel good more than anything. You than began to bounce on his cock, letting out whimper’s and mewls when you slid back down, feeling the stretch overtake you. Hobie helped you speed up as he took control and moved his hips to meet you at every thrust. Warmth began to seep into your core again, but burning more this time. You pulled Hobie closer to you as you begged,

“I need you more- please!”

“I know my love.. me too.”

Hobie needed the same, and fully take control, so he changed positions and laid you on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist. You held onto his hands as they were above your head, and took a deep breath as you prepared for what came. With locked gazes, Hobie pulled back and thrusted into you right away, loving how you responded to him so well by clenching around him and moaning his name. Little by little he picked up his speed, knowing you both needed your much needed release, warmth engulfing you both as well as a passion for more.

Hobie railed into you now as he asked in between pants,

“Who do you belong to love?”

Breathing out a moan when he hit a particular spot, you cried out,

“Y-You! You Hobie!!”

Letting go of your hand to hold your hips down with extra force, Hobie punctuated each word with a harsh thrust,

“You. Sure. Love?”

Hitting your cervix every time had your toes curling and backs arching to him while you whimpered,

“Yes!! I’m yours Hobie Brown!!”

You could feel him throb inside of your walls, as you clenched around him, nearing your release. Hobie could feel the release nearing too, your warm walls taking him in and milking his precum into you. Now all he desired in that moment was for you to let go for him, and only him. Increasing his speed and piercing his grip into you, Hobie demanded with a sweet but firm tone,

“Beg for me love.. t-tell me who it is that is making you co-come.”

Doing his best to hold on a bit longer, Hobie awaited your answer, pleading from his heart that it’d be soon as he wished to claim you already and paint your walls with him. You clawed his back and pulled him closer, kissing his earlobe you then panted and moaned into his ear,

“Only you can Hobie.. please- ahh! Make me come- please please Hobie!”

His jealousy for you along with a new unlocked sensation… possessiveness, had him wanting to here you beg more.

“Beg me to make you come-“

He then lowered his hand to your clit, and began to rub tight circles around your bud, urging you to cry out in a desperate tone, tears evident that you were desperate.

“-AHH!! Oh Hobie! Please- please baby make me cum! Only y-you can!! So p-please!!”

Letting out a deep breath Hobie moaned into your hair,

“Come my love, come wi’ me.”

Feeling him pulsate along with his sharp thrusts, had you coming undone under his arms, coating his cock with your juices. Hobie brought you in for a deep kiss when he came, swallowing yours and his moans as he then slowly rode out both of your highs, wanting it to last a little longer. He was the opposite from how he started, which was rough… but now he gave gentle strokes, only pulling away when you told him it was too sensitive now. You were both out of breath and pulling away at once to catch some air, your chests touching from how close you were but also how much air you were taking in. Hobie gave your forehead a short but meaningful kiss before pulling away, but instead you pulled him in for a hug, hiding your face in his neck as you reassured him,

“I’ll only and always be yours Hobie Brown.. I promise.”

Hobie squeezed you tight and was grateful for your embrace, and he ran his fingers through your hair, as he returned the promise,

“I’ll be yours too love.. forever.”

Your eyes twinkled, as he confessed,

“I’m sorry I never made it clear webs.. but I do love you… very much so.”

With a soft peck you replied,

“I love you too… I always have Hobie.”

In a silence you too held each other, satisfied with your actions, more in love and thriving for more days like this to come.

Maybe this love making session was unexpected and out of the blue for the both of you, but it felt so right, and so good. A little breeze of wind then brushed by, causing you to shiver a bit in Hobie’s arms, a second didn’t go by when he suggested,

“Let’s get us home yeah? Don’ want ya to get cold lovie…”

Carefully he helped you put back on your suit, being extra touchy but extremely gentle as he zipped you up (but he didn’t do this before taking a look at your- his cunt now dripping from his cum.

Soon you too helped Hobie with his pants, and getting his guitar safely back into his hold. Both slipping on your masks, you were ready to swing home, but your legs were a little to wobbly for your liking. Hobie caught the slight stumble before holding you up and telling you,

“I’ll carry you home.. on my back lovie.”

With you tightly secured around him, he took off and swung towards home, going through the city so you could have the last look of the city night lights… as he knew it was one of your favorite parts of being Spider-Woman. Efficiently he swung by a stand full of flowers, plucking one off and easily giving it to you, a smile made it to your face as the rose was given to you with a brush of his hands touching yours. You blushed hard like if it was the first time he touched you, and hadn’t just made love to you on the tallest building of your city.

You never felt fear as you embraced him with the rose in your hand tightly. You trusted Hobie’s skills as you had seen them be incredibly strong and capable of much, while swinging he’d collect something he’d like and hand it to you.. so far you have 3 different flowers and a lollipop. Hobie had sticky fingers.. but you didn’t mind it, he wasn’t selfish with his findings.

It didn’t take long when you finally arrived at your balcony, he made sure your feet were flat on the ground before letting you go. Walking into your dark home didn’t feel lonely and filled with void like before, now you held Hobie’s hand tight as you led him to your room, wordlessly telling him you really wanted him to stay the night, if not forever. You both jumped into the shower wanting it to be quick, your night having been long and you both were craving to lay down in one another’s arms. Hobie’s hands never left your body as he helped you scrub down, he never looked at you like you’re a piece of meat.. but as if you were such a treasure to behold. It didn’t matter about your battle scars or the shape of you, he was now addicted and more in love. You treated Hobie the same way, wanting to show him that you indeed wanted him and him only, asking him questions about how he does his hair and wanting to memorize his steps to keep his styled hair in tact (as you loved how his hair looked) Drying off in fluffy towels, and sharing the air-blow dryer, you too were soon ready for bed. Hobie lifted you up from the thighs and carried you in, laying you down gently and pecking your lips all so romantically, before plopping himself on top of you. A breathy groan left your lips as he cuddled into your stomach, acting innocent and slightly ignoring how he had dropped onto you. He made sure he was in a good spot, not wanting his hair to be in your face, but close enough where you can rub his head. Soft kisses were given on your tummy as he worded again and again, softly yet possessively,

“You’re mine.. all mine. This body, your heart… you. Right baby?”

You could never say no.

“Yes baby.. all yours.. all of me.”

He smiled to himself as he lastly cooed,

“I love you..”

His chest warmed up as he heard your reply,

“I love you more..”

#hobie brown #astv hobie #hobie x you #hobie x reader #atsv x reader #atsv smut #hobie brown smut #spider punk #spider punk x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider punk x you #spider punk smut #asks open #asks answered happily

[damagdsnow]

Fix my reputation

Pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tag: fake dating, slow burn, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play, smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praise

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)

Word count: 11.3k

note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.

At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.

”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.

You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.

“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”

You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?

”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.

“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”

“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.

“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”

At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.

You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.

You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.

You felt kinda intimidated by him.

You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.

He intrigued you.

You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.

Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“

“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.

His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.

Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.

Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.

He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.

“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.

They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.

Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.

“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.

Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.

At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?

Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.

Check, check, check.

You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.

One of these included him.

Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.

The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.

Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.

You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?

No, the kiss.

The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.

Also, you didn’t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.

When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.

"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.

Of course it was not over.

He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.

You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.

Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”

Not as funny as she thought.

Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.

The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.

The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.

You were their only hope but you became the death of them.

Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.

An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.

“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.

”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.

”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.

”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.

You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.

Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?

“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.

You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.

“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.

”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.

You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.

“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”

“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.

She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.

“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented

“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.

You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.

“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”

“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?

“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”

Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”

“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”

You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?

”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.

“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”

”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.

“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.

”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.

”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”

“Well it kinda is–”

”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.

His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.

“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.

“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”

You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?

“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”

“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.

“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”

”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”

”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”

”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.

“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.

“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.

“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.

Did you just sign a pact with the devil?

He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.

“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.

You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.

“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.

“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.

“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.

“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.

”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.

”For the record, they are tasteless.”

He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.

”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”

Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.

Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.

The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.

You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside  but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked. 

“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.

”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.

Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.

”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.

Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that? 

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.

He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.

”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it. 

“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him. 

He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.  

“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn. 

“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.

In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.

“Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.

“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall. 

You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams. 

Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders. 

”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!” 

You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened? 

What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying. 

“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.

You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.

After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”

Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.

It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.

For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.

Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.

He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”

Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?

Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.

His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.

You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile. 

You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.

“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.

You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"

“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”

"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”

You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.

You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.

His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.

”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.

You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.

The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."

You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.

Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.

“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.

“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.

“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”

“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.

”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.

A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”

You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.

“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.

You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”

“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.

”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”

Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”

His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.

“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.

It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.

So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.

Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.

As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him. 

Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.

But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.

“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.

You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.

”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.

Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?

“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”

You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.

”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.

“He did what?”

“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”

Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.

“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.

You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?

“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.

“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.

“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.

“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”

“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.

You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.

“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.

“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.

“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.

“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”

“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”

“As the sun and the moon?”

“Maybe.”

The comparison did fit well.

One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.

Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.

Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.

Is the door locked? Am I safe here?

The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.

Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.

However, that was still his house.

Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.

Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.

You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.

“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”

So cheesy for what?

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.

“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?

You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.

“Oh so you’re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?

“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.

“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.

“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.

You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”

“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.

“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.

He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”

You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.

“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.

“Just for show,” he echoed.

You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.

“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.

“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.

You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.

First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?

That was not what the script said.

You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.

At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.

The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.

“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,” you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.

Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.

The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.

“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.

“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.

“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.

“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.

The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.

“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.

“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.

Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.

He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.

“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.

“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.

Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.

“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”

Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.

“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.

“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.

You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”

“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”

“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.

“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”

The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?

“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”

“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.

“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.

“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.

Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.

“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”

“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.

“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”

“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.

“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.

You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.

“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”

“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.

You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.

“Why? Did it turn you on?”

His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.

“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.

The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.

“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.

He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.

“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.

This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.

“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.

Fuck. That was not your plan.

You can always get back to it.

“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.

I won.

”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.

His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.

You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.

His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.

“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”

That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.

You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.

“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.

“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.

Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”

Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?

Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.

Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.

Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?

“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.

Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.

“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.

It’s just one bite of the apple.

You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.

No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.

“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.

“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.

Oh.

You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.

That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.

“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.

What was he doing?

“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.

Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.

That was his revenge.

You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.

Self sabotaging.

“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.

Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.

Who?

“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.

“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”

Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.

He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.

Fuck him.

You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.

Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.

Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”

You sick bastard.

Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.

He won.

After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.

“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.

“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”

He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.

You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.

You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.

Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.

He is the forbidden fruit.

I am tempted by thee.

A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all

ask me questions here 💌

Tag list: @daenerysqueenofhearts @snowsgames @secretsicanthideanymore @serving-targaryen-realness @rareheartsclub @metalarmsandmanbuns @jzr201 @xoxohannahlee @blueberrymuffinmouse @icedcoffee-please @xybilipid-post-blog @phoward89 @katherine101 @gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @coolcatyarb @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @phoward89 @commanderfreethatdust @thepassionatereader @anjellaufeyson @xoxohannahlee

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coryo x reader #the hunger games #coryo smut #lucy gray baird #coriolanus smut #billy the kid x reader #young coriolanus snow #politician coriolanus snow

[salsakiyoomi]

i ii iii

suna wakes up with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar ceiling staring down at him.

at first, he doesn’t register it, brows knitting together as he tries to process his current surroundings and why the mattress doesn’t feel half as comfortable as his bed — that is, until he processes that the mattress isn’t his bed.

he groans as he sits up, and groans even more as the headache worsens, his head as if someone took it and shook it with all their strength.

he rubs his eyes, trying to fade away some of the fogginess and blackness that’s surrounding his vision.

did he even drink that much last night? of course he had, otherwise he’d remember what last night was and how come he was at a stranger’s place in a mattress that wasn’t very comfortable.

when his vision clears, he takes a look around the place — the walls painted maroon, and covered with bookshelves that were stacked with books and random decorations that fit the aesthetic of the whole place. He glances down at the couch he’s sitting in, it’s deep green with ochre cushions — why does this place feel familiar?

suna’s frown deepens.

fuck.

it was your place.

he really shouldn’t have drank so much because only bits and pieces of his last night fuck up were starting to come back to him.

his heart is pounding in his chest and his headache isn't really helping with how he feels, he really shouldn’t be here and — “oh you're finally up?”

your voice rings out from the kitchen, comforting and familiar but no longer a place he seeks comfort in, he’s not welcome anymore.

he turns to look at where you stand by the kitchen’s entrance, holding a steaming mug in hand.

“hey.” he manages to utter out.

“hi.” you say awkwardly, and you walk towards him, and sit by the edge of the couch, “i made you coffee.”

you, ever caring and sweet, even when you know he shouldn’t be here.

“thanks.” he says as you hand him the coffee mug.

a few minutes of awkward silence pass as he takes a couple of sips from his coffee before the silence gets too unbearable for him.

“i should go.” he says as he stands up and tries not to fall from how dizzy he gets.

“are you sure?” you're there, rushing to his side to hold him up from falling.

his heart pounds and he gulps at the contact — he knows you’re just helping but you shouldn’t be touching him like that, not since you broke up with him.

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t crave it though.

that he doesn’t crave your skin against his and the way your lips fit so perfectly against his whenever you kiss and if he said that he didn’t crave it, that he wasn’t desperate for it, he would be a damn bad liar.

“yeah.” he says after a beat, “i’ll be fine.”

you press your lips into a thin line and after a moment you say, “okay.”

he stares at you for a second, the all too familiar you, with your hair in a messy bun and your eyes puffy because you had just woken up,your lips cherry and kissable, an oh how beautiful you are.

“okay.” he mutters and he heads his way to the door, when he recalls a detail from last night with his hand on the door handle.

“i love you.”

“you’re too drunk, suna.”

he glances at you as he opens the door, “y/n.” he says softly,

“i wasn’t too drunk last night.

#no. 1 party anthem by the arctic monkeys #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x y/n #suna rintarou #suna imagine #suna x reader #suna headcanons #suna drabble #suna angst

[justporo]

my queen. ur sfw alphabet for astarion....it was so good. so amazingly good. grrrrrRUFF!!! GRAAAAFPBRRRR!!!!!! anyways.....would you....be able.......to make......an nsfw alphabet 👀

Oh my sweet Anon, how could I say no? And you're not alone in wanting the NSFW version so here you go, hope you enjoy! And thank you so so much <3. You know flattery will most likely get you your way with me. Surely a thing Astarion and me share... This is Fem!Tav/Astarion btw.

I used this wonderful template (although I changed C slightly), thanks again to @the-coldest-goodbye.

Smutty headcanons about Astarion and Tav (in alphabetical order)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Astarion is very cuddly and comforting – especially if it was a little rougher. He’s always making sure you’re okay, holding you, kissing you gently, laying around naked afterwards just talking and relaxing. Especially since he’s learnt being comfortable with non-sexual intimacy he also just enjoys being close to you with skin-on-skin contact, feeling your warmth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

“Just one, love? Don’t make me choose a favourite?” Let’s face it, he knows he has the body and face of a fallen god. He takes pleasure in looking and being beautiful (rightfully so), he likes that he has a body that’s well built and incredible to look that. But not even in that kind of hollow way but it’s just aesthetically pleasing and that’s a source of joy for him (also he loves his hair a lot). That also goes for you: he’s constantly reminded of every single little beautiful detail about you. The way your neck curves in an elegant line, the way your lips open into a smile, the small lines in your irises that are only visible when he’s like an inch away from you, the little dimple above your butt? Ugh – he could get lost in all those little aspects for they’re all infinite spaces of beauty.

C = Coming (switched that one because I liked this more)

Astarion takes an incredible amount of pleasure in keeping you on edge sometimes. The way it’s so very much in his hands to let you fall or not and the way you’re willingly giving yourself to him in that way. He’d never truly make you suffer though – he only does what makes it more exciting for the both of you.

Sometimes it might even be a little bit of teasing who might be able to push the other beyond the point of no return. (Punishable by law and the other will pay!)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It turns Astarion on way too much when you wear his clothing. The way your ass looks when you’re wearing only his shirt, when it’s visible just beyond the hemline. The way your hardened nipples peak through the fabric and the outline of your breasts shows through it – he can never get over that image. Certain way to get him to push you against a wall in three seconds or less.(And it will stay on during the sex, so he can smell you and what the two of you did later on.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Do we even need to answer this? He knows every damn trick in the book and he’s very creative and eager to show off and teach you.

But: Doing all this with someone he really loves? With someone he desires so deeply it threatens to melt him from the inside? That’s a whole new plane of existence he never even though existed.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

“Again, darling, you can’t possibly make me pick just one. Because when you’re under me I can see your face when I’m deep inside you. I can watch your eyes roll back and how your lips soundlessly form my name and your legs wrapped around my hips can slowly drive me insane. But when you’re on top of me I feel like you’re a goddess gracing me with your blessing. And when you’re on all fours and I’m above you, I can feel the tension in your whole body, how you desperately use every inch of space to get more friction and look at your pretty little back arch while I grip onto your thighs.”

Enough said, isn’t it?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s probably way too used to putting up the perfect performance in the beginning. But he slowly learns that being intimate means so much more: that it means being so deeply comfortable with each other, each other’s body and mentally, emotionally, that’s not about perfection at all. And that it can be so joyful if someone cracks a joke in the middle of the act because somehow the moan Tav let out sounded like a dying squirrel. Or because Astarion butchered his cheesy line because you’re driving way beyond mad with the way your hips roll.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Elves have little to no body hair so there’s not much to take care of. The little hair that might exist just stays and is neatly groomed just like the whole man.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Astarion opening up in these moments is one of the most beautiful things. Because he slowly learns to experience real intimacy. He’s slowly fully there with you: it’s not an act anymore. His hands linger now on your soft, warm skin, his kisses become more passionate and never ending, his eyes burn with desire but mostly with love. And he makes sure to tell you: tells you how much he loves you, praises every inch of your body. His heart is so wide open when he gets there, he’s so ready to be loved and to give love – being amplified by the fact that he’d never even dared to believe he’d be allowed to feel something like this.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t really – because why when he has you at his fingertips. Although if you had to be away for a little while he might find he’s craving you way more than anything else. And when he’s sitting soaking in the tub and he’s reminded of how you look getting out of the tub, streams of water glistening on your body – he finds himself pleasuring himself thinking about how it will be once you’re back with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hmm yes, the thing with blood. Drinking from you while being in the middle of the act – yeah, you kinda both enjoy that quite a bit.

But also it’s such a massive turn on for him if you give yourself to him completely. The fact that you’re trusting him this much is driving him almost insane.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Oh, it could happen anywhere at any time.

Your enormous bed is your favourite place by far though. After all this safe space of coziness is just where you can completely intimate with each other in any kind of way. But Astarion for sure has to test every surface in the house with you – at least once. Okay, maybe twice for good measure.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just you literally doing anything. Once he realises he’s in love with you, he’s fallen and can’t get up. You’re angry at him – woah, the look you throw him takes his breath away. The way you bite your lip when you’re concentrating on something – he wants to put his lips on yours immediately.

And let’s not even talk about when you try to deliberately turn him on. You wearing something naughty just for him? You very purposefully letting your hands wander and linger just a little too much for it to be innocent?

“Love, either you keep these naughty little hands to yourself or you’ll put them right there right now and finish the godsdamned job”, Astarion whispers huskily and grabs one of your hands, deliberately placing it on the growing bulge between his legs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If he ever felt used in that way again he’s been put through for way too long – he will NEVER do that again.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Astarion very much enjoys giving head, because the way your thighs press around his head while he can feel you shiver and the way the pitch of your moans rise – hmm, delicious.

He hasn’t been receiving quite that often so he’s not particularly fond of it, until – it’s you and he realises how wonderful you look with your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the mood. There’s certainly not just the one way with Astarion. He can be so incredibly sweet and tender, touches like feathers. But another time it might be he has you up against a wall and it’s all about carnal lust – making it rough and quick. But he certainly always makes sure it’s pleasant for the both of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As much as Astarion enjoys spending whole nights (or days) with you under his hands (or the other way around), he wouldn’t say no to just quickly bending you over the kitchen table to give you a sweet little reminder why it is that you can’t get enough of him – ever.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experimenting, yes? He likes to show you new things, but he’d never put you in any danger and making sure you’re one hundred percent comfortable with what’s happening is always his top priority.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No matter what you can’t possibly keep up with him. And he teases you about it (affectionately): “Aww love, I was just getting started. We didn’t even get to the real fun parts.” You just glared him, being too out of breath to put anything you wanted to verbally hurl at him into words.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only things he needs really is you and himself. Although something like tying you up against the bed sometimes? Covering your eyes? But for the most part he enjoys completely uninterrupted body contact the most – and that by far doesn’t have too mean it’s always sweet and soft. Those long and elegant fingers have much expertise with sleight of hand and they don’t call it silver tongue for nothing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, an awful lot. Astarion is the definition of a tease. But in his defence: he also takes delight in being teased back. It’s no fun if you don’t claw back. And bickering and teasing a lot is definitely your specific kind of foreplay.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Astarion’s quite verbal – especially since he’s discovering new heights of pleasure with his loved one. Groaning and moaning – especially your name or praises for you. Also he does not care if he’s loud – he’ll proudly let the whole world now how much he desires you (much to the displeasure of you and your party members, oops).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It’s Astarion absolute specialty to make you flustered in public. Once he’s found you get these delightful full body blushes he makes it his goals to tease you at the most inappropriate times. You hate him and you love him for it – this smug bastard. He just knows how to push your buttons way too well.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s hot alright. He most definitely has those muscles for vanity reasons and thankfully vampirism made sure he’s keeping those abs no matter how much of a domestic softie he’s gotten with you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High – especially in the beginning. Once he’s free to enjoy his own desires at his own pace there will most definitely be this high-demand honeymoon phase. You’re both not quite sure it will always really end (and you surely hope not).

But: it’s also important for Astarion that he’s getting more confident to maybe just not be in the mood every single time. Just like you aren’t always, too. And that’s completely fine, you assure him time and time again that you’ll never want him to indulge you just because he feels an obligation.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You can sleep when you’re dead. There’s way too much stuff to be done after: maybe another round (or more), cuddle, talk, goof around, down a bottle of wine.

Although slowly drifting into sleep after being fully satisfied and full of love and warmth: that’s definitely the best way to end a night.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion imagine #poro headcanons

[kolyasupremanxy]

What do you think would be some non sexual turn ons for Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya and Nikolai?

—Non-sexual turn ons

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff ( ? )

𝐀/𝐧: I'm back after 5 months 😭 I'm sorry

— Dazai Osamu

Headcanons: Dazai Osamu's Non-Sexual Turn Ons

• Intelligence

Dazai is attracted to individuals who possess sharp minds and quick wit. He finds intellectual conversations stimulating and enjoys engaging with someone who can match his intelligence. The way you effortlessly navigate complex topics and challenge his ideas with your own well-thought arguments leaves him intrigued and craving more of your stimulating conversations.

• Dark Humor

Dazai has a twisted sense of humor, and he appreciates someone who can understand and appreciate his morbid jokes. A dark and witty sense of humor can easily catch his attention. The way you effortlessly match his dark humor and make him burst into laughter with your clever remarks and twisted jokes is something he finds incredibly alluring.

• Independence

Dazai finds independent individuals incredibly attractive. He admires those who can stand on their own and have a strong sense of self. Someone who doesn't rely on others for validation or support is likely to pique his interest. Your self-assured nature and the way you confidently navigate through life, unafraid to march to the beat of your own drum, is something that captivates him.

• Confidence

Confidence is key when it comes to catching Dazai's attention. He finds it alluring when someone is sure of themselves and isn't afraid to take charge. A person who exudes self-assurance is likely to grab his attention. The way you carry yourself with grace and poise, radiating confidence in every step, is something that leaves Dazai captivated and yearning to unravel more of your intriguing layers.

• Unconventional Thinking

Dazai is drawn to those who think outside the box and challenge societal norms. He finds individuals who have unique perspectives and aren't afraid to question the status quo intriguing and captivating. The way you effortlessly challenge conventional ideas and bring a fresh perspective to every discussion is something that fascinates Dazai, making him want to delve deeper into your mind and unravel the mysteries within.

• Mysterious Persona

Dazai is naturally attracted to people who have an air of mystery surrounding them. He enjoys unraveling their secrets and getting to know them on a deeper level. A person with an enigmatic aura is bound to intrigue him. The way you carry yourself with an air of mystery, leaving him wondering about the depths of your thoughts and experiences, is something that drives Dazai to unravel the layers of your enigmatic persona.

• Compassion

Despite his playful nature, Dazai appreciates individuals who show genuine kindness and compassion towards others. Someone who cares for others and goes out of their way to help those in need is likely to capture his attention. The way you extend compassion to those around you, selflessly lending a helping hand and showing genuine care, is something that melts Dazai's heart and makes him fall even harder for you.

• Adventure and Thrill-Seeking

Dazai enjoys living life on the edge and is attracted to those who share his love for adventure. Whether it's trying out new experiences or seeking adrenaline rushes, someone who can keep up with his adventurous spirit is sure to catch his eye. The way you fearlessly embrace the unknown, always seeking new thrills and adventures, is something that ignites Dazai's own adventurous spirit, making him want to join you on every daring escapade.

• Aesthetic Appreciation

Dazai has an eye for beauty, whether it's in art, nature, or everyday objects. He is drawn to individuals who appreciate and have an eye for aesthetics. Someone who can appreciate the little details and find beauty in the mundane is likely to intrigue him. The way you effortlessly find beauty in the simplest of things, appreciating the aesthetics and the artistry in everything around you, is something that captivates Dazai's artistic soul, making him see the world through a new lens.

• Unpredictability

Dazai is easily bored and craves excitement. He finds individuals who are unpredictable and can keep him on his toes incredibly captivating. Someone who brings an element of surprise and spontaneity to his life is bound to grab his attention. The way you effortlessly keep him guessing, never falling into a predictable pattern and always surprising him with unexpected twists, leaves Dazai craving for more of your exhilarating presence in his life.

—Fyodor Dostoevsky

• Unpredictability

Fyodor is naturally drawn to individuals who possess an element of unpredictability. He finds it exhilarating when you surprises him with their actions or choices, making it difficult for him to anticipate their next move. Your ability to keep Fyodor on his toes adds an exciting edge to their dynamic, keeping him constantly intrigued and captivated.

• Confidence

Fyodor is undeniably attracted to confident individuals. He is particularly drawn to Your self-assurance and assertiveness. Their unwavering belief in themselves and their abilities is a quality that Fyodor greatly admires. Your confidence serves as a powerful magnet, captivating his attention and keeping him intrigued.

• Dark Humor

Fyodor has a twisted and sinister sense of humor, and he finds it incredibly appealing when you shares your affinity for dark humor. Their ability to appreciate and engage in morbid jokes or sarcastic banter creates a unique bond between them. Your compatibility in this aspect allows Fyodor to truly connect with them on a deeper level, making them even more enticing.

• Attention to Detail

Fyodor has an eye for detail, and he finds it incredibly attractive when you shares this trait. Their ability to notice even the smallest nuances in their surroundings or in Fyodor's behavior impresses him. Your keen observation skills and attention to detail make them stand out in his eyes, adding an extra layer of fascination to their relationship.

• Intimacy with Darkness

Fyodor is no stranger to the dark and sinister side of life, and he is drawn to individuals who can embrace and understand that part of him. Your comfort and intimacy with the darker aspects of their own nature intrigue Fyodor immensely. Their ability to navigate the shadows with ease creates a deep connection between them, intensifying the magnetic pull he feels towards them.

• Mysterious Past: Fyodor is naturally curious and attracted to individuals with mysterious pasts. He finds himself irresistibly drawn to Y/n's enigmatic history, wanting to unravel the secrets and untold stories that lie within them. The air of mystery surrounding Y/n only adds to their allure in Fyodor's eyes, making him all the more determined to uncover their hidden depths.

—Nakahara Chuuya

• Intelligence

Chuuya has a soft spot for intelligent individuals. He values intellectual conversations and enjoys the challenge of matching wits with someone who can hold their ground in a battle of wits. He admires those who can outsmart him and isn't afraid to engage in mind games.

• Independence

Chuuya finds independence attractive. He respects individuals who can stand on their own and don't rely on others for validation or support. He appreciates self-sufficiency and values those who can handle themselves in any situation.

• Confidence

Confidence is key when it comes to catching Chuuya 's attention. He is drawn to individuals who exude self-assurance and carry themselves with a certain level of poise. He finds it captivating when someone knows their worth and isn't afraid to show it.

• Determination

Chuuya respects individuals who have a strong sense of determination and drive. He admires those who are willing to fight for what they believe in, even in the face of adversity. Their perseverance and unwavering spirit resonate with him on a deep level.

• Wit and Banter

Chuuya enjoys engaging in witty banter and sarcastic exchanges. He appreciates a sharp sense of humor and enjoys a good verbal spar. If someone can match his quick wit and keep him on his toes with their comebacks, Chuuya finds it both amusing and attractive.

• Loyalty

Despite his trust issues, Chuuya values loyalty above all else. He admires individuals who stay true to their principles and stand by their friends and loved ones. Loyalty earns his respect and makes him more inclined to open up and form a deeper connection.

• Strength

Chuuya is naturally drawn to strength. He appreciates individuals who can hold their own in a fight, but also those who possess inner strength and resilience. Their ability to endure and overcome challenges impresses him.

• Style

Chuuya has an eye for fashion and appreciates individuals who have their own unique sense of style. He finds it attractive when someone takes pride in their appearance and carries themselves with confidence. A well-dressed individual catches his attention and piques his interest.

• Emotional Depth: Despite his own guarded nature, Chuya is intrigued by individuals who exhibit emotional depth. He is drawn to those who are able to express their emotions authentically and are not afraid to show vulnerability. Their ability to connect on a deeper emotional level resonates with him.

—Nikolai Gogol

• Dark Humor

Nikolai has a twisted sense of humor, finding amusement in the darker aspects of life. He is captivated by those who can match his wit and appreciate his morbid jokes, relishing in the shared laughter over macabre topics.

• Intellectual Stimulation

As much as Nikolai enjoys his playful and theatrical personality, he also craves intellectual stimulation. He is attracted to individuals who can engage him in deep and thought-provoking conversations, challenging his mind and expanding his horizons.

• Unpredictability

Nikolai is drawn to individuals who possess an air of unpredictability, those who keep him on his toes and challenge his quick-witted nature. Whether it's through their actions, words, or even their mannerisms, he finds excitement in the element of surprise.

• Confidence:

Nikolai finds confidence to be an irresistible trait. He is attracted to individuals who exude self-assurance, as it showcases independence and a certain level of fearlessness that aligns with his own nature. The boldness and poise of someone who knows their worth is a definite turn-on for him.

• Artistic Expression

Being a lover of all things dramatic and theatrical, Nikolai is drawn to those who possess artistic talents. Whether it's through painting, writing, or any other form of creative expression, he finds beauty in individuals who can channel their emotions and thoughts into their craft.

• Mysterious Aura

Nikolai is naturally curious, and he is intrigued by individuals with a mysterious aura. He is captivated by enigmatic personalities who keep their cards close to their chest, always leaving him guessing and yearning to uncover their hidden depths.

• Unconventional Thinking

Nikolai has a tendency to see the world through a unique lens, and he finds individuals who think outside the box to be incredibly attractive. He is enamored by those who challenge societal norms and embrace unconventional ideas, appreciating their ability to break free from the chains of conformity.

• Playfulness

Despite his sadistic tendencies, Nikolai has a childlike joy within him. He is drawn to individuals who possess a playful nature, those who can engage in lighthearted banter and bring out his mischievous side. Their ability to embrace their inner child and find delight in simple pleasures is something he finds incredibly appealing.

• Passion

Nikolai is captivated by passionate individuals who pour their heart and soul into their pursuits. Whether it's a personal hobby or a grand ambition, he finds the fire within them to be incredibly alluring. Their drive and dedication ignite his own passion and inspire him to reach for greater heights.

• Love for Freedom

As someone who cherishes the freedom he finds in the skies, Nikolai is attracted to individuals who share his love for freedom. Whether it's a thirst for adventure or a desire for independence, he finds solace in those who understand the yearning to break free from the chains of society, just like the birds he adores.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #nikolai gogol x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor fluff #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #dazai headcanons #fyodor headcanons #chuuya headcanons #nikolai headcanons

[hanafubukki]

Wish Upon a Star is my favorite event. The aesthetics and the glimpses into everyone’s lives really gave us a window to what was in store for us in Book 7.

The more I think about the event the more it surprises me how it foreshadowed book 7 so well.

Lilia’s wish, which asked for harmony between all species, easily implied the strife he had to face in the past. We saw first hand what he went through didn’t we? The sacrifices he made and the people he lost. The constant looking for a way for Malleus to hatch and then taking steps for that very harmony which he taught Malleus and then raised Silver as his own.

Then we have Silver’s wish for Lilia to live a long life and live happily. This is where we get the first hint of Lilia’s deteriorating life span. (That’s not book 2 related). We know now what age Lilia is, his deteriorating magic, and what let to its acceleration. We see Silver’s determination and his thought process about it. His flash of insecurity and duty to his family. And now we see his renewed determination to protect them.

Then we have Malleus’ wish for a friend for gao gao kun, and this is where we see how feeling connected to someone is important to Malleus. How bonds to him are precious. We learn that Lilia got his tamogatchi during his travels. Another implication of how important traveling is and its connection to Malleus’ birth. Here we see Malleus not only care about his bond but he wants to makes bonds and how he treasures that very idea. The very thing he’s been trying to do at NRC. Which made him happy because gao gao got that connection he always wanted, to the point of rewarding Idia. This, in a way, shows the importance of bonds to Malleus. Hence why he put everyone to sleep so he wouldn’t loose those few bonds he preciously has and no one will either. Also, it depicts the role the “tamogatchi” plays.

Sebek’s wish for everyone to “kneel before Lord Malleus” and at the time might seem like a very fanboy move on his end. But was it really in retrospect? Out of all of them, we can see how observant Sebek is. He’s empathetic to the pain that Malleus is feeling to the point of almost falling into the darkness. He was the one to knock some sense in Silver. Now, he’s ready to break Malleus out of his overblot because he knows that for someone so loved, he doesn’t want the world to hate him for his actions. Which is essentially his wish for the world to appreciate Malleus.

Just thinking about this event and book 7 has me in awe again how detailed and beautiful the story telling is. ☺️🌺💚

#and then we have Trey clover and his wish for a kitchen appliance he is so real for that honestly #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twst silver #silver vanrouge #twst book 7 #diasomnia #twst lilia vanrouge #twst malleus draconia #twst sebek zigvolt #twst #twisted wonderland #wish upon a star twst event #twst analysis #twst character analysis #disney twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt

[diejager]

Crediting @cobwebs-in-autumn for the prompt

Simon Says Cw: stalking, protective!Simon, collar, pet names, obsession, tell me if I missed any.

Part 3

“ ‘Tis Simon?”

His low rumble left his throat, deep and domineering. This was the voice that scared Johnny so much? It was almost laughable how corny and cocky the other person sounded, the drawl in their voice when they said his name. They sounded too comfortable and too familiar to be a coincidence, to be an act out of pure coincidence (SImon knew it wasn’t, not with the dozens of calls made in the past week alone, or the scarily precise quirks and details about Johnny).

He glared out the living room’s window, a growl lashing out to the caller, searching for any signs of being watched. He didn’t necessarily know what he was looking for, knowing neither what nor who he was glaring at. If he went by the voice he was listening to, he’d imagine a man, perhaps broad and strong like him, or small and lean like Johnny. His eyes scanned the front porch, then he turned to the kitchen, stalking his way to stare out the glass panels, the light in the backyard porch out just like the rest of the house. It left their home dark and moody, eerily silent when Johnny wasn’t chatting his ears off.

“What are you doing, kitten?” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair, cut short and choppy, utilitarian despite fitting him so well, turning his rugged and haunted face into something enviable —handsome.

He heard a click from the other side, before they spoke up, a cheeky laugh ringing in his ear.

“Having fun, like you told me to, Si.”

“You’re having a bloody amazing time, aren’t you.”

He knew you were nodding, hearing your clothes rustling with the vigorous act, and your sweet, sweet laugh that made his knees weak. He knew you were doing this as per his plans - his orders - to spook Johnny, to have him fall further into his arms until he found the right time to introduce you to him, cementing you as the second pillar of normalcy and safety. You were strong and dependable, someone who he’d put his life on the line for, someone who he trusts with his whole being —just as you did with him, repaying him with a sick sense of devotion and love that he easily returned.

“Am I doing well, Si?”

He revelled in having the monopoly of both your attention, being the man that you and Johnny would come for affirmation, to feel accomplished and praised. He was drunk on this power you gave him, your breathy and whiny voice, asking for him to praise you with small gestures and words. You were the reason he left John half of the time, to find you in your little flat, collar tight around your neck and bell ringing when you greeted him at the door. Your little smile and skip in your step made his worst days brighter, turned the dark and haunting tolerable in his mind when Johnny was unavailable. You were an integral piece of his life that he needed to keep —needed to have.

“Wonderful, love,” he gave you the praise you so wanted, a small grin curling the corners of his lips when he found you crouching behind a bush, your white mask peeking over the greenery.

He loved your attire, a white mask mimicking the moment of a scream, curved cheek bones and a thin sheet covering both eyes and mouth. It was your way of feeling closer to him whenever he was away while you worked, dressing in tactical, yet aesthetically pleasing garments, completely black and grey to easily melt into the shadows. He watched you wave at him, fingers curling at him in a teasing greeting and the other holding your phone - the one he gifted you with - under your leather hood. If he stared hard and long enough, he’d be able to see the crease of pure pleasure and glee in your eyes, gleaming so brightly that it would’ve blinded him.

“I think it’s time, kit.”

You perked up at his words, body moving to show him your excitement and joy that he finally thought that it was time.

“Remember to lock the window when you’re out.”

“Of course! Of course!” You nodded eagerly, nearly falling on your hands and dropping the phone in your little dance, “See you tonight, Si.”

part 4

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysian @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

#x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #Ghostface!reader #tw: stalking #tw: obsession #dead dove do not eat

[emelinstriker]

Macaque ♡ Bath Time

First of all, this is all still SFW, but would be leading into NSFW with the ending implication. So this still counts as Fluff. Also I personally would call him Mac-Mac, so that shall now be implemented into my fics.

That being said...

CW: slight suggestive vibe, nudity, mild gore(? had to hold back a lot from making it full on detailed descriptions), maybe faint yandere behavior if you squint

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

"I've told you before. Hands off my territory... No one to blame but yourself."

The dark-furred simian dropped the demon's corpse onto the pavement with a dark grin. It's been a while since he really got to do this to another demon. He's been holding back his true strength ever since he met you, in hopes of not scaring you off... Well, at least he didn't usually attack demons with you around. That didn't mean he would kill them even when you weren't present.

However... this particular demon crossed the line. Not only did this demon return to the apartment complex, the Six-Eared Macaque's territory, despite having been warned... But this demon also threatened to kill him, as well as you and your neighbors right after.

Little did he know that your husband was a lot more capable than any other ordinary demon this guy had ever faced before, by far. Despite his size compared to the intruder, he could easily fold him.

And of course, Macaque didn't take this random demon's threats lightly. Killing off a threat to you and your home once in a while wouldn't be so bad, no? Surely a little bit of self-defense in the name of your safety should be fine.

So he did what he seemed most fit. Getting rid of the pest that spoke of those threats. After all, endangering you in any way, shape or form was off-limits. Anyone attempting to break this one simple rule had to deal with the consequences and would be punished by your loving husband...

Violence may not always be the answer, but life is multiple choice.

And death was just one of the options.

A quite merciful one at that.

Macaque glanced down at the blood that now stained not only his clothes, but his fur too. He rolled his eyes, grumbling about needing to take a bath. After all, he wouldn't want his beloved to be stained by another demon's blood when he hugged them. And thus, he disposed of the body by engulfing it in a shadow portal. He was torn between letting it fall into lava or the ocean, but he decided that lava would be the quickest solution. If the corpse somehow managed to not be gone by the time the Demon Bull Family saw something floating on the surface of one of their lava pits, then they could simply see it as a nice aesthetic gift to their home.

He used another shadow portal to return to your shared apartment's living room. Everything was quiet, so much so that he had no problems hearing all your neighbors without even trying, which the shadow monkey already anticipated. Usually it was him that would come home later than you, but not today since his plays were scheduled for only half of the week. And it was a good thing he had the day off. Who knows what would've happened if you came home first and encountered the demon he got rid of instead!

After making his way past your bedroom door, he let a shadow clone enter and pick some fresh clothes for him. Meanwhile, he prepared his bath. The dark-furred simian noticed the lack of a shampoo bottle near the bathtub, so he ended up picking the plum-scented shampoo from the cabinet beneath the sink. Macaque was considering using body wash as well, but decided against it as most of what the blood got on was pure fur anyway. His shadow clone then walked in with fresh clothes, placing them on the closed toilet seat before vanishing back into his shadow.

However, before he could undress, his ears caught the sound of keys clashing by the front door. He smiled to himself at the implication- Only you had keys to the apartment since he didn't need keys to enter. And his assumption was indeed correct.

"Mac-Mac, I'm home!" Your lovely voiced called out from down the hallway as you entered.

"Heya, sugarplum! I'll be right with you, just gonna take a bath first!" He called back through he closed door. It did take a while until the tub was actually filled with warm water, so in the meantime he inspected his nude, scarred form in the mirror. He sighed to himself as he tried getting some blood off manually with his fingers, but to no avail. It would be difficult to clean up some spots, for sure. Especially those splatters that ended up on his back...

Another thing he did while waiting for the bathtub to fill up was to listen in on what you were doing. From what he could still hear past the noises coming from the faucet and your neighbors, apparently you were eating dinner. Presumably leftovers from the fridge as he did not recall you cooking anything earlier that day.

Once the tub was full, he turned off the faucet, then climbed inside and began to clean himself up. Macaque started off by washing all his fur on and around his head, at least that was easy to do. There wasn't even all that much blood stuck in there in the first place... Well, except for maybe the front.

He was so busy rubbing the blood off his arms that he didn't hear you walking towards the bathroom. At least until you lightly knocked on the door, pulling him back into reality.

"May I come in? I need a dry towel for the kitchen", you asked. Your husband told you that you may enter, so you did.

It was far from the first time you saw him without clothes, so it wasn't exactly awkward when you came in and picked one of the thinner towels. After choosing a fitting one, your eyes glanced over at the dark-furred simian. Honestly, he was already handsome by default. Him without a shirt was even better. But his wet, shiny fur glistening in the light of the bathroom made him look a lot more appealing on top of it all.

Suddenly, his own gaze landed on you. He seemed a bit confused, but this little bit of confusion was quickly wiped away as his smug grin took over.

Shit. He probably heard your heartbeat increase... Curse his intense hearing!

"What's the matter, sugarplum? Like what you see~?"

You were about to respond in a flustered, passive aggressive manner... Until you noticed the amount of red that was still very much present on his fur. You paused for a second before becoming concerned. "What happened? Did you get into a fight? Is that your blood?!" You asked frantically.

Macaque's grin left just as quickly as it came. "No, no! Well... I mean yes, I did get into a fight. B- But this isn't my blood!" That statement only eased your concerns a bit.  You simply stood there in thought with the folded towel in hand... Until he seemed to try wash off some blood his back, but to no avail.

"Do you need help getting it off?" You asked as you slowly put the towel onto the sink.

He raised an eyebrow at you before waving his hand dismissively. "I wouldn't mind the company."

You hummed in amusement as you made your way over to the bathtub, getting onto your knees next to it. Macaque handed you the bottle of shampoo and you put a portion of it onto your hand, putting the bottle next to you on the ground. You then scooped up a bit of water with your other hand and mixed both liquids together. Afterwards your hands were free to roam around your husband's back, trying to get rid of the red colors and the faint stench...

Honestly, you couldn't tell if it was just the blood because his fur seemed to stink on its own.

Suddenly, the dark-furred simian started to purr as you started gently cleaning blood around his tail. You actually had a somewhat hard time cleaning it... Macaque's joy over you handling his tail so gently only made it move around more. That in of itself wouldn't have been much of a problem, but we have to take his extra strength into consideration. He may be holding back by a lot, but his tail was still able to casually pick you up if he wanted to. So trying to keep it still enough to properly get rid of stains was a challenge.

You grinned at his tail's excitement, "Do you want me to wash the rest of your body too or what?"

The shadow monkey halted before fake-thinking with a hum. "Only if you get in here with me."

You gave him a blank look for a few seconds. Macaque thought this suggestion was a bit too much for you today. You barely got off work after all. Thus he was about to apologize... until he heard you take off your own clothes.

He paused as his tail's tip flicked back above the water in anticipation. His head whipped to the side to see you put your clothes onto his own pile or dirty clothes. With your body now in the nude, you approached the bathtub before demanding him to scoot over so you could sit behind him. You then positioned yourself so he was sitting between your legs, practically having been captured so he could never escape. (He wouldn't have minded to be honest.)

And without another word, you proceeded to continue washing him. Mainly his back and sides due to his fur's locations, but you occasionally would brush over part of his chest. Most of his fur in the back wasn't even bloody, but it was still nice to help clean him. At one point his tail wrapped around your waist as he leaned back into your hold, purring while slightly rubbing himself against you. You cooed at him being adorable and tried countering him by pushing your body firmly against his, trying to reach at least part of his legs better.

However, the moment you got to his hips towards his abdomen, he chuckled. "Not low enough, sugarplum~"

You rolled your eyes at his words with a flustered smile, "Mac-Mac, you can clean that area yourself. I can barely even clean your legs from here." He pouted as his head turned to face you, just so you could see his disappointment. You grinned at him in return.

"Do I at least get a reward for cleaning up the rest myself?" He asked with a knowing smirk as his gaze lowered towards your body below the water. That cheeky little bastard... You raised an eyebrow at the monkey's suggestion. The fact that his tail seemed to slowly make its way towards your thigh didn't help the situation.

You sighed in defeat as you nuzzled into your husband's furry back. "Okay fine. But, only one round, got it? I still have work tomorrow, and you know how much our stamina differs."

Macaque chuckled, using his hands to position your arms around his torso, your hands against his chest. "I can't promise anything, sugarplum~" He swiftly turned around more until he was able to give you a quick kiss on the lips, his hands holding your head for better access. "I love you."

In return, you leaned in as well for a kiss that would last a little longer. "I love you too..."

"Well, guess I better get to cleaning now, just so we have more time for my reward~", he said in his low voice as he pulled away. It didn't take long for Macaque to completely clean himself, especially with this new motivation literally sitting behind him with a flushed, yet amused look.

Maybe you should offer him this type of reward for doing house chores, just to motivate him into actually doing those more often.

> Masterlist <

#lmk x reader #macaque x reader #six eared macaque #lego monkie kid #lmk macaque #fluff #bath #suggestive #only a bit tho #i personally dont think it counts rly into gore due to how i removed all the actual descriptions tbh

[thepaperpanda]

Decorating Christmas tree with Kirishima

Summary: a few headcanons and a short drabble about decorating a Christmas tree with your boyfriend Kirishima 🎄

Author: Bear

Kirishima approaches Christmas tree decorating with the same level of enthusiasm he has for hero battles. He makes a detailed plan, complete with a rough sketch of how he envisions the tree's final look.

No decorating session is complete without Kirishima's curated holiday playlist blasting in the background. Expect a mix of classic carols and upbeat tunes that reflect his lively personality. Mariah Carey's on as well.

Kirishima insists on incorporating red and black ribbons, inspired by his hero costume. To him, every element should reflect strength and resilience.

Kirishima turns hanging ornaments into a mini-challenge, attempting to hang them with the utmost precision. He even playfully challenges you to a friendly competition to see who can hang the most ornaments without them falling.

Kirishima suggests creating some DIY decorations together. He's all about teamwork and bonding, so expect to find yourselves making personalized ornaments that represent your shared experiences.

Kirishima takes the opportunity to dress in festive attire, sporting a Santa hat or reindeer antlers.

Before placing any decorations, Kirishima takes a moment to inspect the tree, ensuring it's sturdy and ready for the holiday battle of aesthetics. 

Kirishima is in charge of handling the lights, carefully draping them around the tree. He ensures they flow gracefully and don't get tangled. 

Throughout the process, Kirishima reminisces about past holidays and shares stories.

Once the tree is fully decorated, Kirishima can't resist striking a heroic victory pose beside the masterpiece. He insists on a commemorative photo to capture the festive triumph, making it a cherished memory for the both of you.

You found yourself in the cozy living room, surrounded by the warm embrace of holiday decorations. 

Kirishima, your energetic and passionate boyfriend, was bubbling with excitement as the two of you prepared to decorate the Christmas tree together.

The scent of pine filled the air as you unpacked boxes of ornaments and lights. 

Kirishima's eyes sparkled with festive fervor. "Babe, this tree is gonna be the most awesome one ever! Plus Ultra Christmas, here we come!"

You chuckled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "Sure thing, Eijiro! How about we start with these candy cane lights?" you suggested, holding up a string of red and white lights.

Kirishima began to drape them around the tree. "Carefully, carefully," he whispered to himself with his tongue sticking out a little.

Soon you began to unwrap delicate glass ornaments, and Kirishima's strong, calloused hands carefully took hold of the fragile decorations. "Gotta be gentle with these, right?" he grinned, his red hair catching the warm glow of the lights.

As you adorned the tree with ornaments, Kirishima couldn't resist teasing. "You know, our tree is as tough as me! Unbreakable tree and decorations for an unbreakable hero!" Kirishima playfully flexed his muscles. 

"I just love how positive you are about preparing everything," you mused sweetly, giving him a look.

Amidst the laughter and playful banter, a soft melody of holiday tunes played in the background ("All I want for Christmas" by Mariah Carey).

As the tree began to take shape, you noticed a thoughtful expression on Kirishima's face. "You know, the holidays are about spreading warmth and joy. Just like us heroes do for people every day."

While decorating, you couldn't help but admire how focused he was, his crimson eyes gleaming with the joy of the season. 

"How about we add some glitter for that extra sparkle?" you proposed, holding up a container of sparkling gold dust.

"Glitter! Yeah! Let's do it!" Kirishima grinned, letting you sprinkle glitter over the tree. The soft glow of the lights caught the glitter, creating a magical shimmer.

As you stepped back to admire your work, Kirishima wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "Our tree will be the best, just like us," he declared proudly.

You both shared a quiet moment appreciating the significance of the season. The room was filled not only with the soft glow of Christmas lights but also with the warmth of shared moments and love.

With the tree now fully adorned, Kirishima looked at you with a satisfied grin on his face. "Our Christmas tree is a masterpiece! Just like our relationship, right?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for the moments you shared with Kirishima. The room seemed to glow with a magical aura, and you couldn't help but be swept away by the festive spirit. "It's truly beautiful, Kiri!"

As you both sat on the couch, surrounded by the glow of the Christmas tree, Kirishima pulled you into a warm embrace. "Merry early Christmas, my love. Here's to many more holidays together, full of laughter and love! Mind taking a quick pic for my Insta? Gotta show off our epic Christmas tree!"

He went back to the tree, and struck a pose, flexing his muscles.

You snapped a few shots for him. "There, I'm sure your fans will love it."

"Thanks! But the one I want to post is with you. C'mere."

He took his phone grom you, adjusting the angle to frame both of you and the tree. As you stood side by side, Kirishima wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, kissing your cheek. The lights and ornaments created a festive backdrop for the photo.

Click! The camera captured the moment, freezing it in time. Kirishima eagerly checked the photo, a wide smile spreading across his face. "This is truly delightful. I couldn't have wished for anything more this Christmas."

#bnha fluff #mha fluff #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima fluff #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro fluff #fluff oneshot #mha kirishima #mha drabble #mha oneshot #red riot #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n

[tinyidle]

Vacay!teez and their Boyfriend Behavior

WARNING: suggestive fluff and smut (paragraph format), vague-yet-detailed nsfw descriptions, based on irl chuseok locations, fem reader, all fiction ofcofc

𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎 "𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚋" 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

he's such a romantic, he's even confirmed it. he'll be around you-- just breathing sometimes, not even doing anything too special-- and you'd fall in love with him like you did the moment you laid your eyes on him. he told you this first, actually, and that alone made you fall even harder for him. so when you both took a trip around jinju for chuseok, seeing the sites and all, you wondered which site was the best to see. there was a noteslip tunnel, an underwater aquarium, a beautiful tunnel, and even more; yet all you could see at the end was how amazing your boyfriend looked. he, being the sweetheart he is, made you feel 10x more precious. when a girl looked over to see your boyfriend's handsome face, he'd hold onto your waist and leaned unto you, making the girl effectively turn away. the same goes for guys, but for guys he got even more protective, as if you were fragile glass that could shatter the moment eyes that weren't his landed on him or you. when the night would end, he'd make the sweetest of love to you, giving praise after praise after praise. all this while you blushed and did your best not to doubt yourself aloud, or else you know you'd be fucked into thinking highly of yourself (which was often).

𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

having been invited to paris fashion week earlier in the year, your boyfriend couldn't turn down olivier's two other invitations for the ss24 collection for women and men. balmain has been an inspiring brand for him, and he couldn't wait to show you the fitting that staff had aligned for him to try. with each piece he wore, you became more and more enamored with the way your boyfriend looked as he posed in front of the full-length parisian mirror in the traditionally-vintage styled hotel room. afterwards, when all staff were out the door and the eiffel tower was lit outside, you and he cuddled into the king size bed, excited for the days to come. balmain red carpet and presentation came and went, and you applauded and congratulated your balmain prince each time with a public hug and semi-public kiss on the cheek. in private, however, in order to truly reward him without further tiring out the male, you would give him three options: (1) give him a blowjob, (2) cockwarm him, or (3) ride him. he'd ask for all three, and you'd happily give it to him in the proper succession (1, 3, and 2). he came with a smile on his face every. single. time.

𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

tokyo never had better weather than now, and he knew that. he planned a solo trip, he really did; he just didn't expect you to show up. when you found out your boyfriend was in the same area you were to visit distant family, you just had to meet him and show him the sites. he was estatic that you were able to show him around farther than what his manager knew, and whenever you both had free time, you'd recommend this place and that station to the next place while showing him around. he took tons of pictures-- alot with you-- and kept the really aesthetic ones for instagram. in days when he wanted to slow down and enjoy more without worrying about picture-taking and souvenir-collecting, you and he would simply hold hands and walk around in the park exclusively for private couples. he joked about getting a love motel, to which you turned red in the face and smacked his shoulder, but you both knew that when you'd get to his hotel you'd be doing a lot more than just "love". positions upon positions, riding, doggy, legs up and folded, side-by-side, sitting up in a lotus position, until you both were drenched with sweat and cum.

𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

your boyfriend loves going places, even around his local street. so for him to be able to go to london for chuseok was an opportunity that he wouldn't miss. because you also wanted to go and had the opportunity, you begged to tag along with him, to which he obviously agreed. you guys went everywhere together: the park had moments filled with you two holding hands and enjoying the grass, feeling the vibe of the local cafes, walking the academia-esque streets, and geeking out at the harry potter museum. he may have bought way too many wands for his own good, but hey, they were for the memories and gifts. there were times when your boyfriend would be sneaky and tease you semi-publicly. for some reason he knew how to get you frustrated without anyone around. you'd warn him that you'd get him at the hotel, and he'd respond by cheekily sticking his tongue out. once at the comfort of a huge bed, you'd get your revenge pretty quickly. even though you got a good few orgasms from him, and in reality he should be tired, the male still had enough stamina to please you before calling it quits for the night.

𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎 "𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕" 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

it wasn't that he wanted to be completely lazy, but jeju was the city of relaxation. he needed it, and he needed you; put two and two together, and what do you get? you both have chuseok in the beautiful island area. he rented a beach hut, and the days were meant to be consisted of staring at the large sand stones and taking hikes here and there. you both spent time having from deep and meaningful conversations ('what's the point of living to pay taxes when taxes are made to help me live?') to very shallow and somewhat silly chats ('why can't money be printed at home?'). so many questions, so little answers. the area your boyfriend rented was devoid of any people, which made indecent acts very frequent amongst you two. exhibition would be the word, except that, with no human life outside, it'd mainly be considered semi-public sex. he ate you out on the swings, making himself dizzy, but making it memorable for the both of you. and skinny dipping was also a thing, even though it was mainly for harmless solo aquatic streaking and not to be frisky.

#ateez smut #ateez suggestive #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #wooyoung smut #mingi smut

[the-grand-gemini]

More Gortash Analysis

I've seen lots of posts going over Enver Gortash's appearance and what story telling elements that gives us and I have more thoughts that won't leave me alone.

Gauntlet and Rings

Asthetic:

Aesthetically speaking they're obviously pretty (or gaudy depending on how you feel about an all gold arm piece), but also I can't not think that his whole look is to hide himself and make himself look more dangerous/compensate any of his perceived shortcomings (especially those he experienced in the hells).

His rings mimic claws like Raphael and other devilkin he may have dealt with in the hells. A basic weapon available to most deziens of the hells

Aids:

I imagin that the gauntlet, plus the rings on his other hand, hide and correct crooked fingers while also possibly help with pain. Acting like wrist and finger bracers.

As far as finger braces go even if he wasn't injured reparative writing and working with them (building machines etc) can lead to pain.

But personally I feel like the repeated breaking of fingers is something Raphael and/or Nubalidn may have done to punish him. This could have left lasting pain and possible disfigurement.

Disguise:

A disfigurement he wouldn't want the upper class to see or bother him about constantly. Again even if it wasn't from injury the hands of a builder or fighter (arms dealer/crime lord) will have changes that someone from a softer occupation or a life of leisure won't have. Duke Ravengard as a swordsman probably has hands that show past injury/work, but he's known for and revered for it. While Enver is trying to distance himself from anyone looking into his dodgy past.

ALSO... If anyone wants to write a fic where Tav (or Durge) massages his hands tag me please 👀👀👀 (I'm totally not projecting my own wrist/hand pain here what are you talking about).

The two mainly free fingers... We all know why 👀💦 but also it's probably so he can pick up a pen and write easily/do Archduke paperwork.

The Flame Shirt:

I've seen other posts talking about the flames and how he's laced his shirt and I don't have anything else to add other than ~ Guy Fieri vibes that I can't unsee 🔥🔥🔥

Coat Collar:

Again the coat has been discussed by lots of others in great detail and I love every analysis! However, I do want to talk about his collar specifically.

It's meant to be intimidating, but it also covers all of his neck and a good portion of his head. A very vulnerable location both physically and mentally. It screams I am hiding/anxious to me. He can't wear an all out hood without looking (even more) shady, but the high collar probably still acts as some kind of security. I don't think anyone else in game has a hood like this? There's the odd ruffled collar, but nothing like this outside of armour.

Also! Even though most coats are meant to (in fashion) elongate the figure) I feel that his collar makes him appear shorter. Does it darken his figure and make him stand out? Yes, but I feel like it falls short on making him look larger and more intimidating then it could if it cut off at the neck like a normal collar or continued into a full hood.

IF his coat was gifted to him by Bane (see man who prays to a god of tyranny and fear but his coat prevents him from experiencing the fear spell) I think it actually visually demonstrates how he isn't in charge at all.

Visually it makes him shorter and swallows his head a bit. It seems almost like there is a shadow behind him. Is the coat Bane visually oppressing Gortash? I think it's two fold, Gortash will never escape Raphael's shadow and he is within Bane's controll.

Idk this is probably too meta but the ideas wouldn't leave me alone until I screamed them into the void.

I want to talk about Orin's outfit next ahhhh

#enver gortash #bg3 gortash #bg3 #rotating them in my mind #character design #symbolism #gorty #Gortash #bane #raphael bg3 #walk walk fashion baby #hes evil and i hate him but i love him #lets face it Katie... its because of his voice and being weak for Jason Isaacs

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the enigmatic hunter

Pairing: Rook Hunt x gn!reader

Synopsis: you loved him, loved the way he saw the world

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for rook

Word count: 609

Notes: happy birthday rook!! thank you for being very nice comedic relief while also being stalkerly creepy 👍

Masterlist

Your lover is an enigma wrapped in beauty, a captivating soul with an insatiable passion for all things aesthetically pleasing. With his flamboyance and sociable demeanour, he is a whirlwind of fascination, a tempest of curiosity that sweeps you off your feet. Much like a skilled hunter meticulously studying his prey, he applies the same precision to whatever captures his fancy in the moment. His infectious fixation on beauty becomes a shared journey, and you discover yourself falling profoundly in love with his unique perspective—an outlook that transforms the world into a canvas of endless wonders waiting to be explored.

Your lover’s observant nature is a finely tuned instrument, playing the silent notes of the world around him with unparalleled precision. It's as if he possesses a unique set of lenses, each crafted to capture the nuances and subtleties that elude the casual observer. Whether he's navigating a crowded room or engaging in a one-on-one conversation, his perceptive gaze seems to penetrate beyond the surface, unravelling the intricacies of human behaviour and emotion. His ability to discern the unspoken, to read between the lines, is an art form, turning every interaction into a canvas where he paints the silent stories that others may overlook. In his world, every detail holds significance, and his keen awareness transforms the mundane into a tapestry of meaning and connection.

Your lover is a man who finds joy in illuminating others but shies away from the spotlight cast upon himself. He possesses an extraordinary gift for lavishing praise upon others with an ease that seems second nature. His words flow like a cascade of admiration, painting those around him with compliments that reflect his genuine appreciation for their unique qualities. However, when the spotlight turns towards him, he endearingly transforms into a master of deflection. He becomes a humble curator of compliments, skilfully redirecting the conversation back to others. It's as if the artistry of his own being, though deserving of admiration, is a canvas he'd rather leave unadorned, allowing others to bask in the glow of his compliments while he remains comfortably in the shadows. Nevertheless, in the quiet moments shared between you two, engaging in a delightful exchange of compliments, both trying to out-compliment the other, there's an undeniable bliss on his face that warms your heart.

Your lover stands as a pillar of reliability in the tumultuous tapestry of life. Behind the flamboyant exterior and enigmatic allure lies a steadfast commitment to those he holds dear. His reliability is not just a matter of punctuality or dependability in mundane tasks, but a deeper, more profound assurance that he is unwavering in his support. When challenges arise, he is the anchor that provides stability, his genuine intentions shining through in every action. Whether it's the subtle observations that showcase his attentiveness or the sincere inquiries that reflect his genuine concern, his reliability stems from an authenticity that forms the foundation of his character. In a world filled with uncertainties, your lover emerges as a constant, a reliable force that you can always count on.

You love the unwavering intensity of his life's pursuits, a fervour that remains undiminished even in the face of others labelling his eccentricities as peculiar. Despite the judgments cast by those who perceive his uniqueness as unconventional, he steadfastly follows the path his heart dictates. It's in the way he observes the world, the way he engages with it, and the secrets he holds close. As you explore the depths of his character, you find yourself enchanted by the mystery and captivated by the genuine intentions that lie beneath.

Your lover, is none other than Rook Hunt.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland rook #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x mc #twst rook

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

I haven't played less of p, but can keep asking questions!

Do you have any propaganda for playing the game?

hi welcome to the lies of p propaganda

literally a mix of bloodborne and american mcgee's alice when it comes to aesthetic, vibes, themes and battle systems. if you liked either of them and are upset that bloodborne won't get a port and alice won't get a sequel this is a good alternative

the devs confirmed a sequel and a dlc btw. and they're indie so they shouldn't have many problems

INCREDIBLE soundtrack, and here's some examples of my favorites because i need to share quixotic, memory of beach, shattered memories, hall of fame and arche abbey everywhere

the boss fights are difficult, but most of them are very fair and easy to learn the patterns of. while some are clearly fodder... anyone who played a soulsborne game know that every now and then you have to deal with a curse-rotted greatwood or a witch of hemwick if it means you can have a pontiff sulyvan or a lady maria in return!! if you don't mind spoilers i highly recommend checking out the battles with the king of puppets or with champion victor

tackles themes of overcoming grief, different ways to deal with it, rebirth, what it means to be human, being your own person and honestly and lies, with the latter especially being the most prominent one and heavily implying that even if honesty is good, sometimes a lie is a much better option for everyone

INCREDIBLE visuals hello

i need to talk about how good the monsters design is because body and mechanical horror fans rise UP

you can actually mix-n-match every single weapons you can find around, not including very overpowered boss weapons, and you can have a cannon arm?? like yes it's far from being the fastest weapon but consider: i can either hit and dash or i can make the boss explode

Your Choices Matter you know when a game promises you that they don't. well they do they DOOO literally every single choice starting with your very first one matter HEAVILY in the end

i can't stress enough how good the characters are, they're all full of life and energy and Love. you get a puppet in love, a beautiful charismatic old woman, a spunky young mechanic, whatever the fuck venigni my dad venigni has going on, an actually pretty fun version of the cricket and even pinocchio, who like most soulsborne seems to have little to no personality, is way more human from the get-go, with a lot of characters noting that he's so easily annoyed by their bigger-than-life personality and dramatique

this game made me cry SO many times between the music the lore and the incredible writing and voice acting. it's weird to say i didn't expect that much from it, like when the first trailer arrived we all went haha bishounen pinocchio bloodborne game, but the various npcs and even some bosses feel so human that inevitably seeing them going through situation destroyed me fr fr

but seriously the small details fuck me up so bad. the fact that pinocchio starts by making heavy mechanical noises whenever he moves and occasionally twitches and makes no noise when he attacks and the more "good ending" choices you make the less mechanical noises he makes and the more he occasionally grunts whenever he's hit is so nice?? they literally change every single one of his animation if you aim for that ending and it's so!!!!! aaaa

and also you can play fashionsouls the clothes have no effect other than being fancy so you can literally wear whatever the fuck you want and i, personally, find it very fun. big fan of the workshop master clothes btw that was my main until i unlocked the white clothes

i could go on but it would fall in spoilers territory fnasdmg point is. play lies of p

#gio replies #lies of p

[luvgavii]

you feel like home. / pablo gavi.

request: hi love! can you write a fix where pablo falls asleep in readers lap and reader runs her fingers through his hair?

summary: your surprise didn't go as planned when a tired pablo comes home from practice.

After finishing your studies for college much earlier than you thought you would, you decided to have a relaxing and productive day. You first did your skincare and had a bubble bath, while enjoying a cup of coffee and scrolling your Instagram. Then, you head out for a walk in the busy streets of Barcelona, the sun and warm spring weather making everyone leave their houses and have breakfast in the aesthetically pleasing cafes and restaurants situated in the busiest streets of the Catalan city.

While on your walk, you had an idea to surprise your boyfriend with his favorite meal when he came home from training, today's training being longer than usually as he had a match tomorrow evening.

You went to the best and also your favorite market in Barcelona, bought the freshest vegetables and fruits, as well as a bouquet of flowers to place in a vase in the middle of the table, making your apartment look even more aesthetic.

Trying your best not to run into paparazzi, but stopping to say hi to fans that came up to you, you made your way back to the apartment you shared with Pablo, starting to prepare his food as soon as you got inside. You turn on the TV to play some movie in the background, sometimes turning your head to it when you heard something interesting.

Halfway done with your food, your phone rang, Gavi calling you on FaceTime.

"Hola cariño, ¿qué estás haciendo?" hi darling, what are you up to? His hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, his eyes tired but he still put a smile on his face when he saw you through the screen on his phone.

"Nada más, solo prepararte algo de comida para cuando llegues a casa." Nothing much, just setting some food up for you by the time you come home. You said trying not to give away you were actually preparing his favorite.

"That sounds good, I should be home in the next 45 minutes, might take a little longer though."

"That's alright, I'll see you when you get back. Te amo." You said blowing him a kiss before hanging up the phone, and resuming the cooking.

An hour later, just as you were done setting up the table, your boyfriend stumbled inside, throwing his training bag on the floor somewhere near the door.

You followed the noise and met him in the living room, where he lovingly welcomed you in his arms, holding you close to him and laying a few kisses on your head.

"I missed you." He said almost whispering.

"I missed you too. I made your favorite food." You looked up at him and nodded your head towards the dining area.

"Thank you, mi cielo. But can we rest a bit before we eat? I'm really tired." His puppy like eyes made it impossible for you to say no to him, besides, the food had to cool anyways.

You sat on the couch while Gavi laid his head on your lap, closing his eyes immediately as one of your hands ran through his brown locks, while your other was holding your phone, scrolling through Instagram and Twitter.

It didn't take long for you to hear the soft snores escaping your boyfriend, giggling at the thought of all the times he would get offended and deny the fact that he snored.

The food definitely cooled down, and you were starting to get sore, but you were determined not to move until he woke up, not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep. Instead, you admired his features while stroking his cheeks and running your thumb across his soft lips, memorizing every single detail of his face.

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