#absolutely devastating for my pride | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostfacd · 5 months

Text

you’ll see my face in every place (but you can’t catch me now)

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!capitol!reader

summary: you were finally dead, so why did you show up everyday in Coriolanus’s life?

warnings: coriolanus is a sick motherf, seriously sick. mentions of sex, mentions of killing & snakes, reader finally getting justice in end (sorta?)

part 1 | can be read off as standalone but recommend reading for context

Coriolanus Snow was utterly and undeniably fucked. He absolutely was.

He was sure when he had gotten rid of Sejanus, Lucy Gray, and you—that that was the end of it, and no one would hear about it again. After all, the Plinths and Ciceros took in Coriolanus like a son, thanking them for taking such good care of their son and daughter when they couldn’t.

And it wasn’t like Coriolanus Snow was some idiot. He knew how to cover up his tracks, and he knew how to do it good. If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he believes if one truly wants to get rid of something, one should do all in his power to make it happen. And that’s what Coriolanus did. He erased every trace of Lucy Gray Baird and Sejanus, and hopefully, you.

Coriolanus woke up one morning in the Cicero estate feeling extremely cold. He looked outside to see snow, which made his lips quirk up in a sly smile. Your parents were devastated over your death, Mrs. Cicero automatically offering Coriolanus your bedroom because she couldn’t stand her only daughter being gone.

- - -

Coriolanus opens your closet, a walk-in closet that not even the whole District 1 would be able to afford. Gosh, he remembered the first time he was here and you were showing him a pretty short dress that covered nothing, and how he wanted to take you right then and there. He did minutes after, and that short dress was long discarded on the floor.

But now your presence was gone, just your clothes that were still there. Mr. Cicero refused for the maids to get rid of it; he said he wanted to remember his daughter for the lovely fashionable girl she was. Coriolanus looked through your sweaters, much were pink or white, but Corio found a dark blue one that was gender neutral that he liked.

Although it was just polyester, Coriolanus felt chills as he wore it. He swore he took in a whiff of your perfume. How could that have been possible? It was weeks after yours and Sejanus’s death, weeks after he went back to the Capitol with a fake sob story and bloodshot eyes. There was no way—just absolutely no way that your perfume could still be lingering on this old polyester sweater.

Snow gasps. A loud sound hits your window, a bird, he assumes. And as he gets closer, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees a unconscious bird on the floor, with snow melting around it.

Snow melting. Snow. Melting.

Coriolanus needed to get out of his own head. It wasn’t healthy.

He was now an apprentice to Dr. Gaul, a spot that brought him enormous pride. Soon, he’ll take over all of Panem, and make sure any remaining rebels would be expelled, or better yet, executed.

“Hey,”

Was Coriolanus going crazy? He was so sure he heard your voice in the trees, just right outside your estate. Mrs. Cicero, your mother, had expressed how much you liked planting, and it was evident from the amount of tall bark trees littering around the entire home.

In the lab, Dr. Gaul was teaching Coriolanus how to be gentle with the snakes so he wouldn’t get bitten like poor Clemensia had before the 10th Hunger Games even started. He thought she was long dead by now, but she had came to him a few weeks prior yelling about how she can’t believe he never visited her in the hospital. Coriolanus didn’t outright tell her—but he saw fading scales all over her neck. The turtleneck wasn’t doing her any good.

“Alright, here you go,” Dr. Gaul says gently, handing Coriolanus one of the longer snakes. He looked into its eyes, and was horrified to see your eyes stare back at him. He shrieked, flapping the snake into the air and blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.

“What is wrong with you Mr. Snow?!” Dr. Gaul asks, astonished by her star pupil’s behavior.

He only gulps, excusing himself home early that day.

- - -

“Oh Corio, I wanted you to have this,” Mr. Cicero approached him as he sat in front of your giant vanity. He was holding a few printed photographs of you and Coriolanus, huddled up together, looking as cute of a couple as ever. He remembered those moments, where you were smiling like crazy as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he seem to have been missing lately. “You know my daughter really loved you. And I’m not a man of many words—but I want to thank you for being there for her. She loved you so much she begged me to let her go to district 12 to be with you and Sejanus again. I hate the way things happened, but at least I know she was loved by you.”

And slowly, Snow starts to crack.

When the Ciceros had fallen asleep, he lit the fireplace, watching as the fire slowly get taller. He takes one good look at the photographs, then throws them in with the flames. He gave his blood, sweat, and tears for this moment. To finally be in a huge estate, to be with loving parents, to be an apprentice to the most important doctor in the Capitol. He deserved this. He did. He gave up his best friend, he gave up his own tribute, Lucy Gray—not that she mattered or anything because Coriolanus established a clear line in his head that she was simply just a district scum who was lucky enough to win because of him. And lastly, he gave up his girlfriend, Y/N Cicero, you, for this.

Coriolanus Snow was not going to let anything get in the way of his goal.

- - -

The next week, Coriolanus suggests the Ciceros throw a party to memorialize you. Coriolanus thinks of this big, grand, emotional speech. He’ll tell everyone how much of a sweetheart you were, how much you two were inlove. Then he’d get stern—saying that he’ll make sure your death won’t be forgotten, especially when he plans on running for president soon.

Everyone claps, so infatuated with the way he speaks. It’s cause he lies; straight from his mouth.

“I know what you did.”

The trees speak to Coriolanus in hushed violent murmurs, almost as if they were mad at him. They spoke in riddles, but sometimes they’d just outright say what Coriolanus had done.

“You killed them. You killed them all.”

“Blood is on your hands.”

“Snow bleeds red.”

And it frustrates Snow. It’s something, for once, that he can’t control. It sickens him that he’s unable to anything about the trees.

- - -

Mr. and Mrs. Cicero die a year later. Rebel bombing, they assumed. But only Coriolanus knew that it wasn’t—that it was him, and because he was like a son to them for the past year, he was under their will, meaning he got the entire estate.

He ran for president with the Cicero family name, and with their money too.

Coriolanus marries Livia Cardew. He doesn’t like her, much less tolerate her, but she was a good asset. Just a trophy hanging from his arm.

And Livia didn’t mind, she knew Snow was incapable of loving her, and she had an itching feeling it had something to do with you.

But Livia loved you when she was friends with you at the Academy, so she doesn’t bat an eye when Coriolanus mumbles out your name while they’re having sex. In fact, Coriolanus refused to touch or look at Livia unless he was under enormous pressure and needed someone—no something—to get his anger out on. Livia always took the blows, but she was still grateful that she hadn’t married Fetus, because that—that wouldn’t have been pretty.

The first thing Snow does as president is cut down the trees. The forests and woods? Well he burned them all. He didn’t like the cat and mouse chase that Lucy Gray had played on him in the woods, so he figured getting rid of them was like finally erasing you from his brain. No more Sejanus Plinth, no more Lucy Gray Baird, and fucking finally, finally!—no more Y/N Cicero.

But Coriolanus made a slight error. Because 64 years later, his ex lover comes back to haunt him, only this time, in the form of a girl from District 12, Katniss Everdeen.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosbas #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader

1K notes · View notes

gojos-thot-patrol · 7 months

Text

I got an ask for a Bully Sukuna x Reader, and while I AM ACTIVELY WORKING ON IT its got me thinking so many thoughtsssss.

I'm thinking about Bully! Sukuna, that made thirteen years of your life miserable. Who had a habit of alway pushing you around, and calling you thr cruelest names, and scaring away any potential romantic partner you had ever had.

Bully Sukuna that you started to develop reluctant feelings for at some point. Wires crossing in your brain and finding some version of control in pretending he covted you- not hated you. You imagined what the world would be like of he used his natural charisma and imposing figure for good rather than evil. If his strong arms protected you rather than hurt you.

Bully Sukuna, who you're unbelievably relieved to get away from after graduation, and absolutely devastated to find at college.

He corners you at a party, drunkenly eyeing you up. "You look good for once." His words are terrifying- because he's never said anything that nice to you before.

"Thanks." You grumble, trying to leave only for him to hold out an arm and stop you. He takes a second to finish off his drink before continuing.

"Where do you think you're going, loser?" He scoffs, haphazardly throwing his empty plastic cup behind him. Which- disrespectful- but you expect nothing less from him.

"Back to my dorm?" You mumbled sheepishly.

"Why? You should just come back to mine instead."

I'm thinking about Bully!Sukuna who always had a desperate crush on you. Who found your charming smile and dazzling eyes irresistible. Who only bullied you because he had no idea how else to get your attention- and bad attention was better than nothing.

Bully Sukuna who made your eyes water, just so he could imagine them later when he was fucking his hands. In his fantasy, they're tears of pleasure- not pain.

Okay, maybe a little bit of pain.

Bully Sukuna who's already drunk when you get to the party, filter long since discarded. Who with the social lubricant of alcohol in his veins actually finds it in him to openly thirst over you. A part of you hates it. A part of you loves it.

A part of you uses this revelation to finally take some control in this dynamic.

You're in his dorm, but you're on top of him. You're riding him for all he's worth, finally using his stupidly sculpted body for your pleasure. And he's crumbling under you, feeling the total bliss that being enveloped in you brings. Your chest fills with pride as he begs you to let him cum. Finally, you have some power here.

Bully Sukuna who won't stop texting you after your little rendezvous. Who wants so desperately to meet back up. And you, dear reader, who reads his texts and never responds. Who gets a little shot of serotonin when you remember the power is finally in your court. You meet up every once in awhile- enough to keep him addicted. But never enough to fully satisfy his need to be with you.

You're starting to wonder who's really the Bully here

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #bully!sukuna #sub sukuna #dom reader

2K notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 months

Text

AU where Kara is still an assistant when Lena becomes CEO of CatCo. She makes some changes but one thing Cat tells her under no uncertain terms is that a) Kara stays, and b) she's destined to become a reporter when she's ready.

I'm going back and forth on whether Lena and Kara are friends at this point, or whether Lena simply takes on CatCo before they meet. But basically I want to see Kara having to a) build new connections to get Lena what she needs and b) learning what it's like to work for somebody who doesn't treat like dirt most days.

Like, imagine her standing dumbfounded the first time she brings Lena her coffee, because Lena simply thanks her, genuinely. And then the flush of pride when Lena comments in pleasant surprise when she discovers the coffee is perfectly warm-- not hot enough to scald, but not the usual tepidness of coffee thats had to travel three blocks to get to her.

Because Cat always took those little efforts for granted, as an expectation. But Lena smiles slyly as she regards Kara anew, and says "I think we're going to work together just fine."

Because Kara worked for Cat, not with her. And that small semantic means the world. Because its true-- Cat, and now Lena, wouldn't be able to do what she does without Kara doing what she does.

And that just makes Kara want to work all the harder. She finds she WANTS to stay late when Lena does, mostly because Lena urges her to go home, and that kind of kindness is the kind that's paid back by staunchly ignoring her and sticking around anyway. And she takes extra effort to learn all of Lena's preferences and idiosyncracies, so that she knows exactly what Lena needs when she's had a meeting with that particular board member she's outwardly civil to but clearly loathes.

The first and only time Kara brings Lena salmon for lunch, she's absolutely devastated when Lena looks at it, shoulders falling. "I forgot to tell you I can't stand salmon," she says, resignedly.

Kara's eyes go wide in horror. "Oh! No, that's okay, I'll just go--"

"Please don't bother, it's my fault, I never told you--"

"It's no problem at all. Just-- wait here okay?"

As if Lena would be anywhere but her desk. But in ten minutes, Kara returns with a greasy paper sack.

"I promise, this isn't a punishment for needing something last minute," Kara says quickly. "These are legitimately the best burgers in the city, and honestly, it's the greatest gift I could ever give you."

Okay. Maybe she's laying it on a little thick. But Lena only looks at her with a bemused smile. "All right," she slowly agrees. Her eyebrow quirks. "I'm assuming you picked up something similar for yourself?"

Kara blushes. "Yeah. Can't help myself."

"Good. Then you can eat with me."

Freezing, Kara feels like a deer in the headlights. For all that Lena has treatedher as an equal, they've never eaten together in the same room. They usually eat at their own desks, working through.

"Really?"

"Really." Lena's gaze turns artificially solemn. "If I'm going to have a self-induced heart attack, I better have someone there to call 911."

Unable to keep herself from grinning, Kara scuttles to retrieve her own burger and fries from her desk. And there, together, they share the first of many, many meals to come.

#supercorp #assistant au #kara as lenas assistant #just friends #but if they do get romantic it would be after kara moves on from catco #ill probably post an update for it at some point

432 notes · View notes

androgynous-peach · 2 years

Text

#today is chicagos pride parade #i didnt wanna go for the partying last weekend but the PARADE is what i love #somehow there was a miscommunication and my sister went without me #she is my best friend and also queer and lives closer to the city #and i found and sobbed #sobbed because all of this anti transness in the world has gotten to me way more than i felt i needed to acknowledge #bills against people like me happily exisiting #and all the hate speech i see so liberally everywhere #im in a moment of absolute devastation for my trans community #and i guess i needed to see trans love today #and im mad at my sister for going without me and im mad at myself for being mad at my sister #tw suidcide #ive had suicidal thoughts more than usual and its like im an activist to the bone but im so tired #im so tired please just let me be tired

0 notes

sciencebecameouraddiction · 2 months

Text

title: no, you’re the monster

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: G

genre: angst. like super angst.

pairing: alastor x reader

summary: As the hotel has gained notoriety in Heaven, after more souls are redeemed, an idea of allowing those at the hotel to talk to their Heavenly family is put in place. The only thing is Alastor has never even once, tried to use it to talk to his mom. What’s the worse that can happen when he does use it as you offer the idea up to him?

As the hotel gained notoriety and after a few more souls had been redeemed, Heaven started to finally collaborate with Charlie on redeeming sinners. One of these ways was for sinners to have a weekly call via a special portal to talk with their loved ones up in heaven. Which Angel and Alastor likened to prison. Charlie didn’t care though because it was “progress”.

The idea though, was to create a connection in heaven that sinners would want to work towards. Most of the hotel patrons and staff used their calls weekly. You remember Angel’s first call talking to Molly as he cried realizing she was up there and hearing her sobbing, thanking him for protecting her in life. Encouraging him to do better so that she could hug him. Needless to say, after that call Angel gave up just about everything and really set forward on a path to redemption.

The only person in the whole hotel who hadn’t used these portals were yourself and Alastor. Your whole family had been awful to you save for your sister and she was still alive. You had checked. Alastor on the other hand, you had heard him mention his mom. He talked about her fondly and made her special jumbalaya on occasion. You figured that he would use the portals to talk to her, but he never did. So, one night when sleep was evading you again, you found a chance to ask as you were sitting in the lounge reading and everyone had gone to bed.

“Another late night where sleep’s tender hold evades you my dear?” Alastor said, appearing on the couch across from you. You jump a bit and chuckle.

“You know me too well Al.” You say and put your book down. “How was your day?” You ask him, as he materializes a book to read. You remember the first time you asked him how his day was, he asked you why you wanted to know. You had to explain you were being nice and it was something friends did. He questioned you on your use of the term friends but let it slide.

“It was well enough. I took a trip over to Cannibal Town. Rosie says hello.” He chuckled. He had introduced you to Rosie after you wouldn’t stop begging him to come with to Cannibal Town. You wanted to see more of the Pride Ring but it was scary, up until traveling to the hotel, you stayed in your apartment mostly. Except for work down the street. So, why wouldn’t you want to go to Cannibal town when you had scary dog privileges with Alastor?

“Awww, really? I love that. I’ll have to come with you over there soon, if you don’t mind of course.” You say, dog earring your book page so you don’t loose it. Alastor scoffs seeing you do that.

“Why you choose to ruin books is beyond me.” He mutters. “And of course you may, Rosie may have my head if I didn’t say yes.” You nod.

“How else am I supposed to save my place Alastor?” You ask him.

“With a bookmark.” He explains, conjuring one up and it floats over to you, his magic opens your book, smooths out the dog ear and then places the book mark near the spine. You roll your eyes.

“With how you treat books I am sure you are devastated to know that the library of Alexandria was burned to the ground.” You say, your voice monotone, closing the book.

“Absolutely devastated.” Alastor grins and then goes to reading his book. You sigh, and ready yourself to ask him the question you’ve been wanting to for a while.

“Hey Al?” You ask quietly.

“Hmm?” He murmurs not looking up from his book.

“Can I ask you a question, and you promise not to get mad at me?” You say. He looks up at you, his eyes scrutinizing you as he motions for you to continue.

“So, today was portal day for everyone. And I’ve seen everyone use the portal to talk to loved ones in Heaven, but I’ve never seen you use it. And the way you talk about your mom… Don’t you want to talk to her?” You ask, looking up and your eyes widening as a darkness falls on his face. “I’m sorry, I was just curious. I can leave you alone as I think I’ve overstepped.” You say starting to get up.

“Sit.” Alastor says, a tentacle appearing and pushing you back down. “You’re… fine. I just don’t think my darling mother wants to see her darling son… like this.” He says motioning to himself.

“But if she loved you and you her-“ You start, being cut off by Alastor.

“She was the only one to love me in life.” He whispered.

“Exactly.” You say and gently cross over to his couch sitting next to him. “Wouldn’t you think she’d want to see you again, regardless?” You say earnestly.

“Well, I suppose…” Alastor starts.

“And would it not help you to have a conversation with her?” You go on.

“I’m not being redeemed dear.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“No, I know your sentiments on that. But wouldn’t it be good to talk to her. Not to encourage redemption, but just to catch up?” You say. “If it were my sister, I would love that. I know when she dies I’ll be doing that, I don’t plan on being redeemed, because I want to stay here and help with the hotel. But I’d still want to hear her voice again.” Alastor sighs and looks off, you can see his jaw tighten.

“I apologize if I’ve prodded too much. I can go if you’d like.” Wanting to remind him you could give him space but a small part of you realizing this was good progress as he hadn’t freaked out on you yet. You celebrated the small victory.

“Maybe I will put my name down for next week my dear.” Alastor acquiesced.

“If you wanted to do it now while everyone is sleeping you can.” You smile and hold up the portal key. “The portals stay open until midnight. They started doing that because Charlie and Emily talk a lot.”

Alastor looked at you, his eyes wide. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can even leave the room if you’d like me to. Or we can wait it’s up to you.” Alastor breathes and it’s like watching a war be fought on someone’s face with the emotions running through his eyes.

“Would you stay with me?” He asks, sitting up and fixing his suit jacket and ears, taking a breath.

“Always.” You whisper and his eyes widen. He nods at you.

“You sure about this?” You ask one more time. “You can say no and I’ll forget we ever had this conversation.”

“No, go ahead.” Alastor breathes. You stand up and look forward. You place the key in the air turning it and hearing a click. As the portal opens, a directory is pulled up.

“What was your mom’s name?” You ask, waiting.

“E-Evangeline. Altruist.” Alastor says almost breathless. You find her and look back at Alastor.

“One more time, I’m making sure, you want to do this?” You ask holding your hand to him. He takes it and stands up.

“I wouldn’t have accepted if I wasn’t sure.” Alastor says shortly. Giving off his confident air but his eyes were unsure.

“Okay. I can pull the plug at anytime too. Just let me know.” You press the name and the screen brightens and then Evangeline comes into view. Alastor gasps, his eyes wide and his hand squeezes yours.

“Evangeline Altruist?” You ask as she looks down at you. The portal must have appeared on a table.

“Yes, who is this?” she asks confused. You explain what your name is and that this portal allows those in Hell to communicate with loved ones in heaven. You explain that there is someone who would like to talk to her and does she accept the call. She does and you step out of the way and motion for Alastor to step in frame. He breathes and slowly does so, seeing his mother for the first time in who knows how long. There’s a gasp from his mother as she murmurs out his name.

“Hi Mama.” He whispers. The radio effect gone and a southern sounding accent in his voice as he talks to her.

“Alastor, is that you? You’re in hell? Truly?” His mother cries.

“I-Yes I am. I do miss you dearly.” He says, looking almost ashamed, his ears pin back on his head.

“I had heard the rumors… But I never thought my boy… What have you done Alastor?” She asks, her face twisting. “I don’t even recognize you from the man you were. The man I knew.”

“Mama, please, I-“ Alastor starts his eyes desperate, as he flits over to you and back to his mom. Your own heart shattering. You hold out your hand and he grabs it like a life line.

“No. You are no son of mine. I do not recognize you.” Her voice turns cold, your eyes widen and Alastor’s eye brim with unshed tears. “After everything… this is what you become? A monster?” The disgust in her voice is unbearable as Alastor bows his head and tears fall silently down his cheeks. You on the other hand see red.

“Now, just a damn minute here.” You say stepping back into view and shielding Alastor, still holding his hand.

“This is none of your business, girl.” Alastor’s mother exclaims, anger in her eyes.

“It became my business when you decided to unleash your bullshit on your son with me here. This was my idea, having him come talk to you, because out of everyone here at the hotel, he hadn’t made any contact with the woman who he holds in such high regard. So i figured, you held him in the same regard.” You start and get cut off.

“I loved my son, in life and in death but what he has become is worst than Lucifer himself.” Evangeline continued on. You felt your hand shaking with the strength of Alastor’s quiet sobs.

“No. Nope. That’s where you are wrong. Alastor has worked at this hotel night and day to help people be redeemed. He protects this hotel from those that wish it harm, he protects the patrons and Lucifer’s daughter Charlie. He is genuine, and while he has made a numerous amount of wild missteps in life and in death, he is trying to be better. I see it, the staff at the hotel sees it, his friends see it. And if you choose not to know him or you care not to get to know him, that is entirely your loss. He is not the monster, you are.” You say as you pull out the key, and start to end the portal. “Don’t call for him either. If he decides he wants to actually talk to you again, it will be his choice.” You say as the portal closes and the last words you can hear are ‘I’m sorry.’

“A little too fucking late for that.” You murmur pocketing the key. You turn and your heart breaks seeing Alastor’s tears paired with a smile.

“You don’t have to smile with me you know that right? Nothing I know about you would I ever use as a weapon against you.” You say as you cross over to him slowly, looking for any signs that he didn’t want comfort. Even though you felt like the last person who should be allowed to do so as this was your idea. You reach up and caress his cheek, wiping away tears that continued to spill.

“Alastor, I am so so sorry.” You say, tears coming to your own eyes. “I should have never suggested… I am so sorry.” You say again, bringing him down as he willingly folds into your arms.

“Can you take us to your room?” You ask, knowing he would never let any show of real emotion happen out here. He nods and suddenly you’re in the middle of his bed that has been moved into the forest he added in his room. You gather him to you and he sobs, his head in the crook of your shoulder and neck, as he grips onto you for dear life. There’s something even more heart wrenching as all walls fall and you can hear his natural accent, no radio effect at all, through broken words of ‘I’m sorry’, ‘She hates me’ and ‘I’m a monster’. His shadows darkening the space and the one shadow that always followed him looking so distressed.

“Alastor, if she can’t see the good in you then that is her own blindness. Darling, I can see it. Charlie sees it. You have changed from when you first got here. Hurt people, hurt people. And I think you’ve been hurt for a long while. It’ll take time, but I ain’t going anywhere. You’re not a monster to me.” You assure him as his sobs somehow become even worse hearing you. You gently rock him back and forth, and look up at the sky he produced for the forest. A perfect replica of the night sky on Earth.

“When I was back on earth in my 20’s, my sister would get upset and would go out to the roof. Anytime I found her there, I’d hold her and tell her stories of the stars. Do you want me to do that?” You ask. Wanting to take Alastor’s mind off of everything. You feel him nod and you smile slightly, pressing a kiss to his head, feeling him stiffen at the affection and hug him tighter.

“So there’s this group of stars that makes up a virgin maiden that they named Virgo. Many people say that Virgo’s constellation represents Persephone, the daughter of the Greek Goddess Demeter. Persephone in some stories was kidnapped by Hades, Lord of the Underworld. Demeter’s grief at loosing her daughter, abandoned her post as Earth Goddess, which caused crops to wither and the earth to grow cold.” You recounted one of your sisters favorite tales. Feeling Alastor’s cries fade and his body relax. “Because of this Zeus ordered Persephone to be put back on Earth, but along her travels she mustn’t eat anything.” You continue, gently wiping the tears off Alastor’s face with your oversized shirt. He doesn’t protest and just looks up at you, his eyes rimmed red but the self hatred you saw before not as prominent. You smile at him while you finish. “That’s why Hades gave her six pomegranate seeds, which she ate. Meaning that she would spend six months of the year with Hades and six months with her mother.” You feel Alastor sigh, and you think this is when he will get up and pretend none of this happened, fortifying those walls again. That doesn’t happen. He draws you closer to him, his body laid over yours and his head resting on the left side of your chest where your heart was.

“Tell me another.” He requests, not looking up at you but looking out into the forest. You smile and glide your fingers through his hair, stopping to pet his ears every now and again as you begin telling the story of the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, astronomy stories being whispered well into the night until you both were fast asleep with a blanket Alastor had pulled up over you both.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor/reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor angst #alastor altruist

315 notes · View notes

gatorlovebot · 8 months

Text

continuation of this blurb here. read the rest of king!simon blurbs here.

you had gone to sleep in your our own bed for the first time in weeks, at the absolute horror of your king.

(“what if i start internally bleeding in my sleep and you’re not here?”

“well, your highness, the doctor said the risk of complication was almost at zero now. and how would i even be able to tell if you were bleeding internally?”)

it wasn’t an easy conversation, having to put your foot down to your king for the first time in a while. but you felt it was important to go back to your routine. put a little bit of space between the two of you again.

you would be lying if you said the encounter with simon’s new secretary hadn’t stuck with you. he only had to take one look at you to decide that you were nothing more than someone to keep simon’s bed warm. you know that’s not true, you know that your relationship with simon is complex and one based on respect and honor. but you can’t help but let the looks and the harsh words from others eat away at you.

you weren’t excited to start sleeping in your lumpy bed again, but you needed to face the reality that this is your life, your life is not sleeping in simon’s bed every night.

but when you awaken, you awake to a sharp pain across your skull and blurry vision. you had felt fine the previous evening, having walked all the way down to your sleeping quarters with no issues. you had no idea what could possibly be making your head feel this way. you force yourself onto your feet and that seems to make the pain worse, pressure behind your eyes making you want to curl up and cry. you took pride in being by simon’s side everyday but you would be no help to him in this condition.

you make the trek to the grand kitchen, hoping to intercept one of the maids before they bring up simon’s breakfast. usually by now you would be upstairs, picking out simon’s clothes. as he’d dress you’d accept breakfast from a maid at the door and the two of you would eat together. that wouldn’t be happening this morning.

once you make it to the kitchen you squint through all of the light streaming in from the big windows and feel relief when you see the maid who usually brings up simon’s breakfast prepping the trays.

she notices you before you can open your mouth to speak, “oh, it’s you.” she remarks, sounding shocked. “what a sight, to see you outside of the king’s room for once.”

it’s an easy dig, a version you’ve heard many times, but it digs up shame, knowing that sleeping in simon’s bed for the past weeks will make the gossip and teasing even worse for you. but you can’t begin to deal with that now in your stricken state.

“yes, i woke up in my bed this morning with terrible pain in my head.” you begin to explain. you don’t know why you even tell her you were in your bed, she probably won’t even believe you or care. “when you bring up his breakfast, could you please inform him that i won’t be available to assist him today?”

she smirks and if it was any other day you’d give it back to her but right now you feel like you can barely stand on your own feet. you just try to grit your teeth and brace for her response, “i bet the king will be devastated,” she teases, “oh well, maybe i’ll just have to offer the king my own services.”

good luck with that, you think, reflecting on the countless times simon has rebuffed the advances of other female staff. simon wasn’t someone who cared about intimacy or companionship, he’d rather laugh in the face of another handmaiden who tried to seduce him with their big bust size than let them in his bed.

“best of luck with that.” you dig back before turning back to make the walk to your sleeping quarters.

you could cry when you finally reach your room, legs giving out the last few steps to your bed, body so exhausted from the painful assault going on in your head. you curl up under your blanket, using your pillow to cover your eyes to block out any light as you pray for sleep.

you awake to a knocking at your door. letting out expletives as you untangle yourself from your blankets. your head still feels like its being split open, maybe the sleep made it worse. you manage to make it to the door and when you open it reveals the concerned face of one of simon’s guards. simon’s guards were some of the only men on castle grounds that you felt comfortable around as they were always pleasant and kind, wishing you a good morning and a good evening as you came and went from the king’s chambers.

“the king sent for me, he’s concerned about your wellbeing and doesn’t want to continue his day without you.” the guard explains as you squint against the light coming in from the corridor. “he ordered me to bring you up to him, regardless of your condition. or your protests.” he tacks on, with a hint of humor in his voice. the guards are pretty much the only members of simon’s men that understands your true relationship with the king. they hear your inside jokes, the way you talk to the king casually, they understand your friendship to the king unlike anyone else.

“i figured simon would send someone for me.” you sighed, knowing how stubborn simon can be and how little he takes no as an answer. you figured he would want to see you with his own eyes before going on with his day without you. “can i hold onto your arm? i don’t think i can make it up all those stairs on my own.”

the guard wordlessly holds his arm out to you and you loop yours around it, thankful for the kind gesture. you make your way up to the king's chambers, heavily leaning against the guard the entire trip with your eyes squinted against all the light coming into the castle. it’s a relief when you finally reach simon’s door.

the guard leads you inside and presents you to simon, who was stood at the end of his bed looking at pairs of pants strewn across the blankets. “your highness,” the guard announces, “your handmaiden, as requested.”

simon gives you an assessing look before nodding to the guard, “thank you, back to position.” the guard leaves the room and you begin to make your way over to simon’s bed to sit, but he intercepts you before you make it. he places his big hands on your shoulders to halt your movement and gives your face an appraising look. “the maid that brought me my breakfast said you weren’t able to execute your duties today.”

you nod as you squint up at him, “i woke with a terrible pain in my head.” there’s a slight whine in your voice that you would feel embarrassed about if you weren’t consumed by the white, hot pain in your skull.

he raises one of his eyes, “you were just going to suffer by yourself?” he questions, leading you over to his bed and you shamelessly sink into the soft blankets, curling up around his perfectly tailored pants.

“what else was i supposed to do?” you mewl, feeling like a child being scolded by their mother. when you awoke this morning you felt that the best course of action was to allow the pain to pass on your own, you were no use to simon and maybe a day apart would do the both of you some good.

he picks up one of your limp hands and brings it up his face, lips brushing against your palm as he growls out, “you don’t have the choice to hide from me.”

“simon,” you try to counter but he’s already releasing your hand and turning back towards the door. your motivations for staying in your chambers were pure, you couldn't keep up with simon today in your state, but it seems that maybe he had caught on to your little plan of keeping distance between each other. even after all of these years you had no idea why he always needed you when he had a number of other female staff.

“i’m going to call for the doctor, i need you better so you can help me pick out some fucking pants.”

#gator.writing #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanon #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x reader #cod x reader #king simon

443 notes · View notes

marknee · 11 months

Text

bts fanfics i think shakespeare would plagiarise the absolute shit out of.

chapter iii. ✷ chapter v.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — the bastard needs to find better hiding places to ‘secretly’ plagiarise. the tavern, really?

( ♬ ) — notes were found in the trunk by the foot of his bed. not the sharpest quill in the pot, i’ll say.

( ✎ ) — word on the street is he’s been arranging a performance at the globe theatre next week.

( ♛ ) — why is this play being taught as part of the british exam curriculum? he didn’t even write it!

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, welcome to phase two. did you miss me? it’s been a long time coming, i assure you, so i’m glad to finally get the ball rolling on the next few chapters of incredible stories. my quill has been neatly sharpened, so are you ready?

⠀

( ♬ ) KEYNOTE — by @missgeniality

!! hoseok x reader | 18.5k !!

strangers to lovers, non-idol!au, smut, slight fluff.

dear reader, after some time away having finished phase one of this series, i happened to unwillingly stumble across some newfound knowledge of shakespeare, which enlightened all that i knew of. unbeknownst to me, shakespeare did write about sexual endeavours within his plays. exhibit a: “but i might see cupid’s fiery shaft, quenched in the chaste beams of the watery moon.” a midsummer night’s dream, act iii, scene i.

but, did shakespeare write: “a gruelling war between your self-respect and lascivious yearning, a war waged for way too long - the fact that you're even thinking about it, your self-respect has to give in to your desires.” indeed not.

effectively, this story doesn’t grant you time to settle in. if anything, you have all but one option when diving in to the sharks: to surrender, allowing yourself to be thrown into the deep end - to a dark predator, who from that moment, sits at the table he’s created within your mind, body and soul, and feasts on every last ounce of sanity you thought existed.

truthfully, what could say it better than: “metal could melt under his scrutiny — you’re nothing but a mere mortal.”

⠀

( ♛ ) ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR — by @faryn_rose (ao3)

!! seokjin x reader, jungkook x reader | 48.4k !!

historical!au, violence, drama & romance.

“no, you decided. monsters did not spare people's feelings.”

there are those who fall under the supposition of being an iron fist in a velvet glove, and there are those who persist it. if anything, i argue a third exist: those who prove themselves neither.

throughout this story, it appeared two emotions were consistent in their approach of lurking within its entirety - heartbreak and betrayal. after all, people find themselves doing wild things in the name of love. in the battle between two men, both equal in their share of time on the battlefield, to win the precious heart of the reader, it provokes the question: who do you choose? the proud general willing to die for you, or the gentle chief who vows to keep you safe? certainly a tough choice.

the title is seemingly a perfect choice for this exhilarating fifty-thousand-word story. for the loser is left wondering whether the fight was worth the struggle.

not mentioning the loss of pride knowing their attempts were, in fact, faulty.

but, as said, all’s fair in love and war.

“he treated me like i mattered, like i had power in this world. and i decided that i couldn’t let someone like that go.”

⠀

( ✎ ) 1999 — by @tattookoo

!! campus royalty!jungkook x reader | 17.9k !!

90s!au, college au, hockey!au, fake dating, smut.

“kook, it’s really not hard to pretend to be into you. you’re very easy to love.”

with an unruly raven-haired rake with devastating dimples as the love interest, i am fully subscribed to the belief this utterance lies true. if anything, you’d be a fool to not swoon over this dashing playboy of the 90s.

this story hones into the idea of fake dating for the sake of rebuilding a reputation. but, as it seems, nobody’s fate truly rests in their own hands.

as we know - or will come to in time - a real relationship requires more of something that a fake perhaps less so: vulnerability. true, it carries the burden, yet it leaves space for commitment to linger, though as a visitor, and not as a resident. it seems commitment is what transforms a promise into reality.

the author does an incredible job of bringing every aspect of being exposed to the susceptibility of love, and that is what earned itself a place in my series.

yet, why is it we continue to delve into stories like these? well, for the greatest adventure we humans can ever go on: to run the risk of rejection, and to be completely okay with it.

⠀

( ♛ ) HOOKED — by @joopiterjoon (ao3)

!! namjoon x reader | 102k !!

friends with benefits, smut, angst, 18+.

typically, when tornado warnings siren, it’s our cue to turn tail and flee. so when tornado warnings siren within people, why is it we do not take initiative until the damage is done? even worse, what if they siren within ourselves? as we know, we cannot run from ourselves.

“i need to work on me with me." while this quote may appear ordinary, i fear its the most impactful, and arguably the most important, piece of dialogue in this story - the understanding that the only person who is going to fix you, is yourself. a tough pill to swallow - especially if you were shattered against your will - but one we must digest eventually.

shakespeare wouldn’t have a clue, regarding all his characters are broken beyond belief - and that, in most cases, ends up being their demise.

alternately, this story leaves you with two ending options. i shan’t tell you which is best, dear reader, as that choice belongs to you. but, a simple thing i like to remember:

“love is loss.”

⠀

( ♛ ) HEARTBURN — by @jiminrings

!! jimin x reader | 41.7k !!

heavy angst, emotional infidelity, more angst.

“the ones we love have the power to inflict the greatest scars, for what thing is more fragile than the human heart.” i can’t remember for the life of me who said this, but dear lord, does it just hit the mark for this story.

to cheat is to lack integrity. which jimin palpably inherits. but, it seems in order to acquire agency, sometimes bad things have to be someone’s fault.

throughout this tripartite story, you witness the growth of each individual character - and perhaps the loss of parts, too. each has their depths, their faults, their beauty. nobody is left dry, and it truly brings the story together in a way that connects so well.

“guard your heart, y/n. let it be yours before you share it again.” i ask you, author, what provoked you to write such heart-rending words? and i ask you, dear readers, to bathe in the words i say next: your heart is yours before it is anybody else’s.

this story is not just about the destruction of a great trust, but about a birth of trust within yourself and what it means to wholeheartedly put yourself first - especially in desperate times when nobody else will do it for you.

⠀

( ♬ ) TOLERATE IT — by @archivedkookie (ongoing)

!! taehyung x reader | 6k !!

heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, smut.

“the worst way to love somebody’s to watch them love somebody else and it work out.” body better, maisie peters.

unrequited love is a killer. a crushing, sinking pain when your heart reaches the depths of your stomach, and it’s more common experience than one might think - especially between you and i.

whilst this story is still ongoing, i know i’m about to be completely swept off my feet. especially with leading quotes such as: “because before all this happened, you were his friend.”

this story feels familiar - the words familiar too. simply because i assure we’ve all been the the exact boat - the one floating upon stormy seas of rejection. we understand the readers pain, we sympathise with it, and we connect to it.

“not your love to be tolerated when you know you should be celebrated.”

we’re fools of love, that’s all we are. there’s no magic or defiance behind it.

and in the words of the perks of being a wallflower: “we accept the love we think we deserve.”

⠀

( ✎ ) LEVEL OF RESTRAINT — by @lemonjoonah

!! jimin x namjoon x reader x taehyung | 13k !!

office!au, bdsm!au, 18+, thriller, smut.

“any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” why don’t you shut the fuck up?

now, tell me, at what point does one cross the thin line between obsession and possession? what are the defining factors, and when down that very same faded line, does one reach a great epiphany they’ve reached a place of no return? does ‘love’ not beg for sacrifice? does it?

setting the scene, with characters like these, it’s hard to not risk the fall of betrayal from the thrust of arguably non-consensual sexual situations, but i’ll let you be the judge of that. effectively, this story is one you have to experience for yourself, dear reader, in order to understand. there is only so much i can tell you- reveal, express, without running my mouth and ruining the whole plot line.

though, i shall leave you with one piece of advice. a thought for you to ponder on: pay attention.

and talk about jimin and namjoon being sex on legs all you want, but there is no denial this story has a deeper, more sinister verona.

lady macbeth said it herself: “look like th' innocent flower, / but be the serpent under't.”

⠀

( ♬ ) WANT A TASTE? — by @suga-kookiemonster

!! yoongi x reader | 18.3k !!

friends to lovers, humour, shopping mall!au, smut.

"who are you, yoongi? what is your truth?” if there is something i can respect, should it be this line.

i believe there is a rich beauty in the small, gentle exchanges between strangers, to which ripen, transforming into the most special of connections between friends - and before long, between lovers. it’s a slow and steady process i’m sure, but i find those types of love are the most worthwhile.

patience is, of course, dear reader, a virtue.

in my humble opinion, this story does nothing but breathe fun from its very core, encapsulating the sweet essence of excitement - of belonging - and burrowing itself around you like a warm blanket. that’s the sheer power of a writer - to familiarise the strange and mystify the familiar.

tell, aren’t you intrigued?

“all the time you've spent with him has already alerted you to the fact that his hard persona is all a front.”

took you long enough.

⠀

( ♛ ) THE WEDDING ARRANGEMENT — by @sugaurora (ao3)

!! namjoon x black!reader | 44.2k !!

enemies with benefits to lovers, smut, romance.

“and maybe that's because it wasn't the kind of love you always expected, but something different that you hadn't fully let yourself accept.” if this were any other topic of matter, i would let wit take its course. however, as it is not, i am inept from doing so - rather i shall let your own imagination prove itself dominant, dear reader.

effectively, if there is anything this story has mastered, it’s the realisation that assumptions can erode any relationship, and inevitably are a fate we, the human race, continue to face and to fight.

“strangely, the first thing you thought of was home.” while i presume i join the line of overdue attendants to stumble across this indescribable romance, to say its definitely left its mark - perchance, more.

if you seek a delicious story to sink your teeth into, let this take the cake. besides, the story isn’t the only appetising option on the menu.

“you're a walking erotic novel cover, namjoon.”

⠀

( ✮ ) FINAL SLEIGH — by @floralseokjin

!! seokjin x reader | 23.3k !!

office!au, rivals/enemies to lovers, smut.

in order to reach the beautiful rose nestled within its bush, you must first combat the prickly thorns to which ensure its survival by the name of protection. mind you, shakespeare never said that - i did. my quill is just as sharp it’s practically lethal.

the art of protection within humans, i say, is much different. it jumps out in strange forms, but each is just as valid as the other. which is what indefinitely makes this trope all the more interesting - especially in this story.

“feelings was a scary word, an uncertain word, but you thought you liked the way it made you feel.” arguably, if a pair are able to surmount this indescribable nine letter word, possibly even sit with the idea, then perhaps their journey marks itself a success. and that to me, is worth fighting for.

this story is a perfect mix between comedy and actuality, plenishing us of pure enjoyment while hooking us round the legs in the name of desire disguised. a perfect mask, indeed.

we’re all playing with fire. but if you don’t take that foolish risk, how’d you know you’d burn?

⠀

( ✮ ) SIT. STAY. — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 14k !!

neighbours!au, dog parent!au, smut.

“if you love somebody, let them go.” not to delve too deep into things, but baring in mind society’s self-destructive addiction to faster living, it poses the question whether “stay” within this context carries a much heavier weight than intended. asking someone to stick by you in a world which thrives on the act of haste, is a form of intimacy one may not throughly tread.

but understand this, dear readers, i do not miss anything.

the affinity within this story is one to point out. it’s so raw and genuine that it feels uncomfortably natural - to the point that freshly reading this felt like returning to an old friend your soul grew attached to in a past life, glad - and almost grateful - to encounter them once more.

“would you be better off telling him later, when things are settled, when you can tie up the story nice and neat?” oh, how you wound me. just so, the new in a relationship is a hard course to navigate, especially when it comes to our deepest shadows - perhaps it would be easier to stick a decorative bow over the cracks.

but then again, how else would light get in?

⠀

( ♛ ) BLOOM — by @hobidreams

!! florist!namjoon x assassin!reader | 20.7k !!

smut, action, angst, opposites attract.

in the nature of life, it is normal for us to resist death. but in the nature of the world, in the end, death overwhelms life. but ‘tis not death itself we find ourselves afraid of, rather the possibility of it. “like how a child fears what might lay beyond a closet door, beneath a four-frame bed.”

even i fed the dark, hungry demon of that spiralling thought once.

within this captivating story, the two main characters of life and death coexist beside each other. neither try to dominate and drain the power of the other. they simply rest, side by side, together. while joon grows life through his plants, the reader strips that of what is so. to each to their own. the birth, and the destruction.

but, dear reader, does life beg the existence of death? or simply, is it the other way around? can death suffice without existence? “you can't seem to sleep… without the comfort that there's something growing, thriving in life just a few feet away.” …perhaps.

despite the pair being so different from one another, neither allow that defining characteristic the chance to ruin their dangerous, but very real connection. well… until the last petal falls.

but i shall let you discover that for yourself.

TAGLIST: @screamertannie @bebejungkook @taleasnewastime

596 notes · View notes

asmosmainhoe · 5 months

Note

Hiii~ So I had this idea stuck in my head, and I was wondering if you could write hcs for Diavolo, Beelzebub, Simeon, Mammo, and Leviathan hearing their Male or Gender Natural S/o saying something similar to "I'd destroy anything in my path just to feel your love"? Sorry if it's weird 😅 Thank you 😊

No, it's absolutely not weird! Don't worry, love!

---

"I'd destroy anything in my path just to feel your love."

Gender: neutral

Warnings: none

Mammon

He would do the same. No questions asked

Only for a second he gets startled by your words, but that feeling soon gets replaced by pride and triumph

Would you be so kind and write that down for him so he has it black on white? Just in case someone else dares to steal you away. He wants to shove that paper in their face

"Not if I do it first, MC!"

Lucifer overhearing this can't stop the twitching of his eyebrow

"You fools better not break anything."

Leviathan

Fanboy mode activated

Of course he gets all blushy and flustered and desperately tries to look like he doesn't care as much about it, but he does. He cares a lot

"That's kinda cringe."

Right after you leave he posts about it everywhere and tells his online friends all about it

His brothers aren't safe from his rant either. It gets to a point where Lucifer bans him from talking about it

Beelzebub

It's really not necessary to destroy anything for him, because he will give you love even without total destruction

But it still warms his heart and he offers to share his food with him in return

"Can you try not to destroy the kitchen when you do that?"

That would be devastating

Diavolo

He laughs his typical Diavolo laugh, because he just finds it SO amusing

It's not like he's making fun of you or anything. It's just that he has never heard anyone say something like that to him

"That sounds quite interesting actually. I'd love to see that."

The thought of a tiny human wrecking the Devildom is simply too funny to him

But please don't break anything around the castle. Barbatos wouldn't wanna have that on his list of tasks as well

Simeon

"I don't think that will be necessary, my dove."

He nervously laughs it off, because he doesn't want you to get any ideas

Simeon doesn't want you to get in trouble or hurt yourself in the process

It's fine if you only say it just to show your love, but please don't act on it

---

Masterlist

292 notes · View notes

midwesternvibes · 12 days

Text

Alright people, it's time for more Villain Leo lore!!!

Today we are diving into Leo and Splinter's relationship!!!

Read under the cut because this got so LONG, these two have so many issues and there was so much to work with.

Alright, so it's no secret that Leo and Splinter have a....less than ideal relationship. You can see throughout all of TMNT history that Leo looks up to Splinter an insane amount, and Rise Leo is no different.

This boy looked up to Lou Jitsu his whole life, and we can often see him doing the same movements and catchphrases that Lou did. Granted, all the boys do, but Leo seems particularly attached to Lou

And we've all seen the smile comparisons, it's insane how similar his grandiose smile is to Lou Jistu's.

The point is, Leo really looks up to his dad, and we can see this in his actions and attitudes towards not only Lou Jitsu, but also Splinter in canon.

"Trust me pops!"

I mean, just look at how happy he is to be there with his dad, in his element. This episode is Leo at his peak, outsmarting everyone and predicting his family's moments to the letter.

Also, idk about you, but that smile seems incredibly genuine. That's not even a Lou Jitsu smile, that's a 100% Hamato Leonardo smile at his dad whom he looks up to so much.

And what does Splinter say to his son's ask for trust?

"I knew I should have brought Purple!"

....what.

That is his SON. His 14, maybe 15 year old son, who is asking for his father to trust him.

....and he responds by saying that he wishes he had brought his more intelligent twin brother instead, who he has already shown an implied favoritism towards in the past

"And I thought Purple was the funny one!"

"Told you guys I was the funniest."

This is a pretty harmless comment tbh, but Leo takes so much pride in his quips, one-liners and puns that this had to sting a little bit.

There's such a huge amount of content to sift through when it comes to these two, and that fact actually saddens me because I had SO MUCH to pick from when making this post, but here's some highlights.

One thing that I noticed while watching a Splinter and Leo compilation is that during the memory episode, Leo is the only one Splinter directly hits

NONE of the other three were directly hit like this is any point in the episode and yeah, this could totally be played off as a bit or just a case of wrong place, wrong time, but we'll get to my theory later, right now I'm just laying out the facts.

An important detail I'd like to point out here too is Leo's face after the first hit.

Guys, he looks HURT. Donnie and Raph are looking at him, checking that he's okay, but he is looking right past them at the shadow Splinter, who is dressed and looks just like his childhood idol, who just hit him specifically right in the face.

Not only his idol even. No, the most pure and unfiltered representation of his father, the man who's raised him his whole life.

And he just got hit in the face.

Ouch. For a kid as emotive as Leo (who I honestly think feels his emotions even more intensely than Mikey when he lets them out), this is a devastating blow. Literally.

Then, let's talk about this scene, you all knew it was coming.

"Can someone tell my son I am NOT TALKING TO HIM!!"

"You got this pops! I love you!"

Guys this scene hurts my heart. Like, once again, he can't be older than 15 at this point. Yeah he's being a badass stratigiser this whole episode, but you cannot convince me that he wasn't at least a little excited to see his dad, his HERO in action, and wearing a matching outfit as well, and show his dad, his idol and hero, exactly what he's capable of. Leo absolutely worships the ground Splinter walks on and what does his father have to say to his son"s encouragement??

"NO!"

GAHHHH like yes, Leo was kinda being a little shit this whole episode and could have clued his dad in on the plan a little bit, but honestly that could have ruined everything if Splinter had any holdbacks.

Not to mention, this is the only Leo and Splinter episode we get. Donnie gets the derby, Mikey gets the Hidden City bonding, even Raph gets the ending of the memory episode, and in each, they have a genuine moment of bonding with Splinter.

Splinter never ONCE apologized for his actions in this episode. Not once. RAPH is the one who tells Leo in this episode later on that he trusts Leo, something he's been begging Splinter for the entire time.

All of a sudden, this moment doesn't seem so out of place.....

"I love you soooo much!" "No, no you don't, I'm your least favorite!!"

This line could totally just be a throwaway line, but as it was pointed out to me by the wonderful @nardos-primetime, the alarms that the boys did for Google home have a REALLY upsetting one for Leo

youtube

Go to about 1:57 and listen to that one and just......cry.

NOW that line in "Rat Flu" makes a LOT more sense. Splinter LAUGHED at Leo when he asked if he was his favorite. LAUGHED at him.

But wait, you may ask. What about the ending? Splinter made Leo the leader, obviously he trusts him!

....yeah, just take a look at their faces here.

Donnie and Mikey are basically horrified beyond belief and in complete shock

Raph is.....blue screening, honestly

And Leo looks completely taken aback and shocked and scared and honestly, I don't blame him. There is absolutely NO precedence for Splinter to do this. He has proved time and time again that he does NOT trust Leo, he never ONCE tells Leo that he trusts him even though he asks for that trust during the entirety of "Unhappy Returns". NONE of them look happy about this new change.

You could see this as Splinter finally giving Leo a chance, but I see this a lot more as one of the more popular Fandom interpretations of Splinter wanting to give Raph a break. Raph had a huge breakdown during the finale and I don't think it's unreasonable for Splinter to have heard of that and decide that his beloved eldest needed a chance to recover.

Who better to pass this burden on to than his least favorite son!

We also see in the movie that this shift in power dynamics really doesn't do much other than create a lot of interpersonal conflict between Leo and Raph, something Splinter does absolutely nothing to help out with, other than telling them to quiet down.

Now that we have all of our evidence (and I put more work into getting evidence for this than for the English project I'm supposed to be doing right now can I just cite this as a source for me being capable of gathering evidence???) we can actually get into the analysis of how this all would affect him.

First of all, I mentioned that I would discuss the repercussions of the memory episode. This analysis is more for Splinter, but I feel like it's still important. We've seen time and time again that Leo is very similar to how Splinter was as a young teen in both looks and attitude. If Splinter truly resents his younger self and how he acted, it would make a lot of sense for him to also subconsciously resent his son who acts a lot like himself at that age. This would cause him to lash out at Leo in his subconscious, the one place where his true thoughts and feelings are on full display.

I just wanna point out his face again here, Leo looks so hurt. He definitely already knows that he's not anywhere near Splinter's favorites at this point, but it still hurts him to see that get confirmed.

This brings me to my next point of Leo's psyche. He is a very confident, witty, smart teenager, but he's still just that. A teenager. He's anxious, insecure, and very self-reliant. He looks to others for praise often and rarely receives it, usually having to hype himself up. His relationship with Splinter only emphasizes these qualities about him and makes Leo look so much worse in Splinter's eyes because his son is just a modern-day representation of his past self.

Now let's put this into perspective of Leo's decent into villainy.

If Leo is hurting and under the impression that his brothers are maybe starting to dislike him, even hate him, adding Splinter on to this can only make it worse.

Maybe he goes to his dad for tips on how to lead when he feels like he can't talk to Raph anymore and needs his father's advice.

Maybe he sets up a dinner for him and Splinter to just chat and bond instead of sitting at the dinner table with another one of Mikey's meals that he feels too sick with anxiety from his little brother's disappointed looks to eat.

Maybe he goes to his father crying from another nightmare after not feeling welcomed in Donnie's lab anymore after they fought for an hour the day before.

And maybe, just maybe, Splinter waves him off every time.

Forgets.

Laughs at him.

I mean, this is a kid who relys on others to build him up, to praise him and love him because after all....

Who is he without his family?

Maybe it's time to find out.

First // Previous // Next

Link to an AMAZING ficlet by the FANTASTIC @beetleviolet

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise of the tmnt #leonardo #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #villain leo au #master splinter #Splinter #leonardo hamato #hamato yoshi #lou jitsu #Rise analysis #rise of tmnt #rise tmnt #rise leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles

79 notes · View notes

your-eternal-lies · 1 month

Text

LOVE IS A CHOICE (chapter two)

Main Navigation || Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

PAIRING — Bucky Barnes x Agent f!Reader SERIES SUMMARY — In your experience, relationships only bring drama and heartbreak, and you want absolutely none of it. That is, until an act of sheer recklessness brings Bucky Barnes back into your life.

Warnings — Angst, blood and injury, Reader gets stitches, Hydra are assholes, references to abusive childhood/Black Widow training.

LOVE IS A CHOICE

CHAPTER TWO

The world seems to hold its breath as you emerge from behind the jagged tree line, which opens up into a wide clearing and draws your eyes to a derelict facility looming tall amongst the surrounding mountains. Your boots crunch softly on the gravel as you approach, your eyes scanning the horizon with trained vigilance.

The absence of guards or surveillance equipment does not escape your notice—it’s too quiet, too serene; a masquerade of peace where you suspected dark secrets are surely hidden under the guise of solitude.

“Too easy,” you murmur as your sharp gaze falls upon the entrance. There are no locks, no retinal scanners, nothing that speaks of the advanced defences you’ve come to expect on missions like these. It makes you wary, your shoulders tensing as you deliberate.

You know better than anyone how appearances often deceived.

You pause at the threshold, the moment stretching into an eternity. You know you should call for backup, but your pride—and something a little darker—prevents you from reaching for your earpiece. You take a breath and step inside, crossing over the unseen line between wilderness and the unknown.

The interior sprawls out like a futuristic lab, its walls lined with sleek panels and blinking lights that bath you in a cold artificial glow. With the practiced ease of someone who has mastered the art of espionage, you move with purposeful strides, each step measured and soundless against the floors.

You quickly reach an impasse at the end of the hallway, standing before a series of locked doors. You withdraw a set of slim tools from your belt, the instruments of your craft glinting faintly in the artificial light. Tony might enjoy using technology to his advantage, but you sometimes like to take the old-fashioned way. Some skills need to be kept sharp.

The door yields with a muted click and you slip through. The corridor stretches ahead into the dark before rounding a corner, and you stop dead in your tracks.

Drones hover all around the room like mechanical vultures, their sensors swivelling and scanning with an unfeeling precision. A single misstep, a solitary breath too loud, would no doubt summon a swarm of steel and scrutiny.

You should definitely turn back and call for backup now. All your instincts tell you as much, but the computer is right there. All you need to do is insert the USB and download as much data as you can without being seen. Child’s play.

But despite how you manage to convince yourself, there is a nagging voice at the back of your mind that reminds you that none of this is tactical. You’re simply being reckless.

Almost like you’re punishing yourself for crimes committed by someone who is long dead, for not seeing through him sooner, and for still caring enough to let him haunt your dreams.

What are you trying to prove? Hydra took everything from you. And even now, you can see the looks of skepticism you receive from some of the other agents, wondering if you’re one of the proverbial wolves in sheep’s clothing. Look at who your ex-partner was, after all.

But what good would all this do if you were dead? Tony would be pissed. Steve would be disappointed. Well, maybe then you’d at least finally be able to rest.

But Natasha.

The only relationship of yours that has stood the test of time. The only person in the world you could trust to never let you down. The only one you were still brave enough to love.

Oh, Natasha would be devastated.

Always the worrier, that one, ever since you met her at the Red Room Academy. Nobody thought you would survive there; you were just a tiny little thing—the figurative runt of the litter.

While the winters in Belarus were mild, you were already of weak disposition by the time you were taken, and the demands of the Black Widow’s training program seemed to tip the odds right out of your favour.

You were barely fed as a result. Why waste resources on a girl who might die before the seasons even turned? Most of the others, even if they might have felt sorry for you, spared you no affection for fear of what the repercussions might be.

You spent most of your days in the underground dungeons—sometimes because you remained defiant in the face of their training, and other times due to nothing else but the wickedness of your handlers—shivering under a thin blanket and a barely there nightgown. They hadn’t even bothered to give you a name.

Well, that was a lie. They called you kroshka. Baby. Crumb. Your instructors, their faces now blurred and distorted in your distant memories, liked to remind you that you were but an insignificant speck in the whole of the universe. Your existence could be easily brushed away like crumbs from a table.

You could disappear tomorrow and nobody would even blink, they told you. Nobody would even search for you, would they? Kroshka, they would say, their smiles falsely sweet, we could have another girl here within the hour.

Their message was clear. You were easily replaced; unimportant, unwanted, and unloved.

Until Natasha Romanoff became the only person who ever dared to give a damn about you. Whenever you were allowed out of the dungeons, she shared her meagre meals with you, let you climb into her bunk at night to keep each other warm, and turned the word that had plagued you all your life into a term of endearment.

Despite how much the Program had tried to take away your humanity, it was—thank god—yours to keep so long as you had Natasha. Unlike what everyone kept telling you over and over, tried to assure you in falsely dulcet tones after the forced hysterectomy, love was not so disgusting and miserable as they had always made it seem.

How could it be? It gave you laughter and happiness, no matter how fleeting, even when the circumstances were dire. It gave you warmth, even though it seemed like those winters would never end. It gave you hope that your life, while perhaps inconsequential to the rest of the world, it was not so for at least one other person.

And it all came in the form of a redheaded girl with bright green eyes and a heart too good for them to break, who would continue to call you her sister for the rest of her days.

You loved Natasha so dearly that, even though she disappeared on a mission one day and didn’t report back when she said she would, you weren’t even angry. Not even after learning she had defected and became a soldier for the enemy country, now fighting to take down the very organization she used to work for.

Your instructors wanted you to be furious, ordered you to go after the traitor and burn her new life to the ground, and locked you in the dreaded underground cells of the Lubyanka when you refused. All you could do in the solitude of the prison was pray to a god that had never listened to you before that Natasha would stay away.

If you never saw Natasha again, then you could be certain, or at least go to your grave believing, that she was warm, safe, and well-fed. Perhaps you could even dream that she was loved by more than just a mere kroshka.

A reunion would only end in tragedy, after all. The unspoken rules of your training dictated that only one of you would walk out of it alive.

Or so you thought.

Because she came back for you. You woke one day in your cell and found yourself looking up into her green eyes, ones you never thought you would see again. Your tears were reflected in her own as she gathered you in her arms, apologizing over and over again for taking so long.

The two of you would finally be free, she said. And that was when she took you to the United States, presented you with two options: live out the rest of your life peacefully as a civilian, or join SHIELD with her and maybe do some good for once. She opened a door to a world of possibilities, and you chose the latter.

She gave you a proper name.

Once again, she gave you a home.

And even after discovering that your former partner was dirty, Natasha always gave you the benefit of the doubt.

So, while it might seem like you have a death wish these days, defying your Captain’s orders and breaking protocol to dive into this mission solo, you can’t die here.

Thoughts of Natasha pull you back, but it’s too late. One of the drones spots your movements and the air instantly shifts. You hear a sudden rush of footsteps before Hydra agents emerge like phantoms from the darkness, their weapons drawn.

Your heart sinks with the cold slap of reality, but you have no time to lament. You move with precision, your training with SHIELD and the KGB a silent partner in your deadly grace, the dance of your battle set to the music of clashing steel and gunfire.

Each guard that lunges at you is met with the swift rebuttal of your fists, a careful parry of your kicks, falling like autumn leaves. You carve a path towards freedom with every fallen adversary, but for each one that falters, two more arise, and your skill is overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Just as you are about to step back out into the wilderness, more shots ring out, shattering the still winter air. Pain blossoms in your upper arm, your side, and in your thigh just above the knee, stealing the breath from your lungs and breaking the rhythm of your stride.

But you can’t stop. You stagger towards your quinjet, hidden amongst the trees, blood painting a stark path in the gleaming blanket of snow. Summoning a familiar strength that’s born out of complete and utter desperation, you fight through the searing pain, mentally screaming at your legs to keep pumping.

You can’t die here. Not now, not after everything you’ve already survived.

The quinjet finally comes into view and the adrenaline seems to choose that exact same time to leave your veins. You collapse against the side doors, trying to breathe through the pain as you press your left hand against the most serious wound in your side. Your shaky fingers glide over the keypad, a high-pitched beep granting you access indoors.

The sound of footsteps grow closer and you quickly start the engines, keying in the coordinates for the closest safe house with trembling hands, your vision blurring as you wrestle with consciousness. The jet roars to life, carrying you away from the clutches of your enemies just in the nick of time.

You spend the next twenty minutes fumbling with the first aid kit with the quinjet on auto-pilot. The wounds in your arm and thigh are through-and-throughs. The first practically a flesh wound in your line of work, and the latter, while not exactly a walk in the park, it’s missed all vital arteries.

Opening up the kit with one hand, you curse when you’re out of antiseptic. You quickly pull out some gauze and start packing the wounds, but you can only manage to press a towel to your most serious injury before the quinjet’s emergency landing alarm starts blaring.

“Fuck!” You shout in pain and frustration. You can’t land yet, you’re still about a mile out from the safe house, but of course the machinery doesn’t give your situation much consideration. The subsequent landing is rough, jarring your battered body as the jet skids to a halt.

You reach up blindly, fumbling for the radio, but your heart sinks when you press the button and nothing happens. There’s no static, just silence, and when you speak into it, you receive no response.

You’re exhausted, breathing hard and losing a lot of blood, and you weigh your options. One, you die here—either by bleeding out on the floor of this quinjet or freezing to death before that even happens. Two, you get to the safe house or die trying.

Well, if both options end with you dying, you might as well die fighting. You press the towel harder against your skin and haul yourself to your feet. You stumble out of the jet and into the wilderness, each step heavier than the last, leaving a spotty trail of crimson behind you in the pristine snow.

And when the cabin is finally in your sights, your vision begins to blur. Your legs give out and you go crashing into the snow. Rolling onto your back, you lie under the watchful eye of the moon, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you feel your body’s warmth begin to fade.

You hear someone calling your name, but you close your eyes and surrender to sleep’s alluring embrace.

The world is a blur of white as he rushes out the door, not bothering to put his boots on. The frigid air bites at his lungs, the sight of you lying crumpled and fragile surrounded by splashes of crimson and pink stealing any remnants of warmth from his veins.

“Stay there!” He shouts to Alpine, who has one paw up in the air like she’s about to go traipsing into the snow. Bucky moves before he has any more time to think, his body acting on instinct as he sweeps you up into his arms with a tenderness that belies his normally destructive hands, worry etched into his features as he carries you towards the cabin.

Alpine trails close by at his feet as he navigates the brightly-lit interior of the safe house, the weight of your form in his arms somehow keeping the panic at bay and feeding it at the same time. The floorboards creak under his feet as he heads towards the bedroom and lowers you onto his sheets with utmost care, moving away only briefly so he can peer out the front door and into the darkness.

He sees and hears nothing but the wind, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly before he closes the door uneasily, locking it behind him. He begins rummaging through drawers and cabinets, searching for salvation in the form of bandages, antiseptic, anything. The supplies are meagre; evidently, the safe house hasn’t seen a real emergency in quite some time, but he gathers what he can.

Bucky feels his throat threatening to close up, his tools woefully inadequate as he lays them out methodically beside your unconscious figure. There’s barely half a bottle of disinfectant, a pack of gauze, and a barely there roll of medical tape. But they’re all he has… and Bucky Barnes is certainly no stranger to making do with much less.

You don’t even stir as he cuts your tac-suit open and removes it completely, dumping the soiled fabric onto the floor. There are cuts all over your body with varying severity, bruises that bloom under your skin like dark flowers, and then the two packed bullet wounds and another still leaking fresh blood.

Bucky swallows hard, glancing up at your face as his stomach twists with dread. He reaches for the antiseptic and a pair of tweezers, disinfecting his tools and then pouring some over your wound. He takes a deep breath, using his vibranium hand which remains steady as his flesh one feels shaky and weak.

You don’t even flinch as he goes in to extract the spent round, not making a sound as he pulls the bullet free, dropping it onto the bedside table with a high-pitched clink. Not the best of signs.

Still, Bucky works quickly, stitching up the hole with care and precision, before disinfecting it one last time and taping a square sheet of gauze on top. He repeats the process a few times for a nasty gash at the corner of your forehead and some of the deeper cuts on your arms and shoulders.

Finally, he ties a tourniquet above the injuries in your thigh and arm just in case, replacing the gauze and repacking the wounds after cleaning them carefully.

The entire time he works, he tries not to think about the countless times during the war when he had to do this for his fellow soldiers—some of whom, many of whom, didn’t survive.

He tries not to think about the times that came later, in which he had to do this for himself because nobody else would. Hydra was wilfully ignorant of his pain, but no matter how convenient the serum was, it didn’t mean he was immune from suffering.

And then he considers that you were alone out there. The last he could remember, it was against protocol for any agent, no matter their rank, to go on assignment by themselves. His inner sergeant has half a mind to cuss out whoever approved your solo mission, and he realizes the only person who could authorize something like that is Steve.

Bucky stands, surveying his handiwork before feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. You’re burning up a little, but that’s not exactly out of the ordinary. He makes a note to check the cabin for aspirin after he calls for help.

Bucky fetches a blanket from a nearby cupboard, unfolding it gently and draping it over your still form. He tucks it around you carefully, mindful of your injuries. Alpine hops onto the bed beside you and gets comfortable, looking up at her owner as if promising to keep an eye on you while he’s gone.

He scratches Alpine between her ears, before leaving the room and finding the old radio in the living room that’s perched on a rickety wooden desk, littered with maps and poorly concealed mission reports.

He fumbles for a moment, clearing his throat before securing a grip on the device and keys the microphone.

“This—” He begins, but his voice breaks. His heart still beats frantically, worried that if he’s gone too long you might stop breathing. He pauses, trying to calm the swell of panic that rises in his chest. Bucky composes himself and starts again.

“This is Sergeant James Barnes calling a 10-33. Needing immediate rescue and evac; we’ve got an agent down. I repeat, Agent 19 is down.”

The line buzzes, the faint echo of his words hanging in the air before a familiar voice cuts through. “10-4, this is Captain Steve Rogers. What happened?”

“Multiple GSW’s and contusions. She’s alive, but she’s lost a lot of blood and she’s burning up. I’ve done what I can, but she needs better care than I can provide here.” Bucky rattles off the words with the practiced ease of an experienced soldier, but his voice is heavy with a gravity he can’t conceal.

“Damn it,” Steve curses, and Bucky notes that his friend sounds rattled—and pissed. “Listen, a storm’s coming your way and it’s rolling in fast. Might complicate things for an extraction.”

“Why the hell is she alone, Steve?” Bucky asks, his mind racing with calculations of added time and distance. It could mean life or death for you. He glances out a nearby window; the snow is really starting to come down, whipped into a spiralling frenzy by the howling wind.

“You think I wanted to break protocol?” Steve practically barks, the anger in his voice unfamiliar, maybe even a little strange. The Captain’s always been known for having his shit together, always the picture of calm and cool in the face of chaos. “You know how stubborn she is; she wouldn’t take no for an answer. And when I threatened to bench her, she threatened to go fucking rogue.”

Bucky doesn’t flinch at Steve’s rare use of profanity. Instead, he just sighs. He knows that you know better than this, but you’ve been made reckless by your pain, haunted by your past and trying to outrun the shadows that still loom like giants.

He’s been there, so for now, he has nothing else to say.

“Just get here as fast as you can, please? And bring more supplies for me. The last guy didn’t bother restocking before he left.”

“Yeah. Hang tight, okay? We’re on our way.” Steve promises, and if there’s one thing his best friend never does, it’s break a promise.

Bucky clicks off the receiver, quickly returning to the bedroom. He begins to light a fire in the stone hearth on the opposite side of the room, but its warmth is not quite as reassuring as it normally is. When he’s finished, he turns back towards you, watching as the fire’s light casts dancing shadows over your face.

Your eyelids twitch but remain closed in a fitful sleep, and he reaches out a hand to brush back a lock of hair that’s stuck to your damp forehead. His touch lingers, unable or unwilling to pull away from your warmth, a subtle reminder that you’re still alive.

The last time he saw you was back in New York. You were both going through your own turmoils, the threads of an already precarious friendship fraying under the combined strains of your pasts.

He hadn’t known you before the Hydra Uprising, but Natasha and Steve often said you weren’t the same afterwards. He knew about your circumstances, about the betrayal you suffered at the hands of your late partner. There were so many times Bucky couldn’t bring himself to look directly at you, your grief so palpable and loud, even though you rarely ever said a word.

The last time he heard your voice was so long ago. Since his reassignment, he hadn’t received any correspondence from you—not one phone call, email, or single text. Bucky’s sure he deserves it though. After all, he could have handled the matter of his reassignment with a little more delicacy, perhaps should have told you in-person before the news reached you by rumour mill instead of his own god damn mouth.

Bucky has a lot of regrets, but that’s a big one. He deserved a tongue-lashing at the very least, but all you did was look at him as he confirmed the news with an uncomfortable silence. You said nothing, but your eyes belied a disappointment that cut him deep. He remembers looking away, as he had always done, unable to confront all the unspoken sadness in your eyes.

There had been a kind of camaraderie between you once, and you deserved so much more than he was able to give at the time. The both of you were lost, sentenced to a life of permanent sorrow—it was a wonder that friendship ever even made it to the table.

Underneath all that, there was an uncomfortable truth that went unacknowledged, an attraction that went beyond just physical. Neither of you were willing to go there, however. You lost faith in everything and everyone except Steve and Natasha. Bucky was still in a dark place, still trying to crawl out from a hideous past and atone for sins that weren’t really his.

But in another life, Bucky would have been there for you as your life fell to pieces, would have killed your damn partner himself, would have told you that you had more to offer than just being a SHIELD agent.

In another life, Bucky would have given you everything. Instead, he is left to wonder what might have been.

Exhaustion creeps up on him as he sits on the floor next to the bed, leaning against the side of the mattress and resting his head on an empty spot next to Alpine. He refrains from the desire to reach out and hold your hand, anything to anchor him firmly to this reality where you’re still breathing.

“Can you hear me?” He asks, fighting back a wave of emotion as he suddenly realizes he might lose you tonight. Only time will tell. His eyelids begin to droop despite the vigil he desperately wants to keep. “You’ve gotta stay with me, alright?”

Please. What will I do if you go?

He doesn’t get a response from you, only the reassuring sight of your chest rising and falling with each breath. Alpine lounges on the bed, guarded and attentive, her tail flicking back and forth as the hours slip by unnoticed.

Bucky finally closes his eyes, the cabin a steadfast sanctuary against the raging storm outside.

« Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 »

Taglist — @cjand10 @pbs-theundeadmaggot Please leave a comment or send me a DM if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story. Note that if you ask and you are a blank blog, I will block you instead.

Notes — Stay tuned for chapter three! I’m thinking this series might be a little longer than the originally planned five chapters, but we’ll have to see. I really don’t want to drag it out too much.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #summer’s fics

72 notes · View notes