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#black sun lit
blacksunlit · 2 years
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despair has three pairs of legs despair has four pairs of legs four pairs of airborne volcanic absorbent symmetrical legs it has five pairs of legs five symmetrical pairs or six pairs of airborne volcanic legs despair has seven and eight pairs of volcanic legs eight pairs of legs eight pairs of socks eight airborne forks absorbed by the legs it has nine symmetrical forks for its nine pairs of legs ten pairs of legs absorbed by its legs that means eleven pairs of absorbent volcanic legs despair has twelve pairs of legs twelve pairs of legs it has thirteen pairs of legs despair has fourteen pairs of airborne volcanic legs fifteen fifteen pairs of legs despair has sixteen pairs of legs sixteen pairs of legs despair has seventeen pairs of legs absorbed by the legs eighteen pairs of legs and eighteen pairs of socks it has eighteen pairs of socks in the forks of its legs that means nineteen pairs of legs despair has twenty pairs of legs despair has thirty pairs of legs despair has no pairs of legs but absolutely no pairs of legs absolutely no absolutely no pairs of legs but absolutely no legs absolutely three legs
Three poems by Ghérasim Luca, translated from the French by Austin Carder. From “Luca’s Legacy: A Microfolio,” forthcoming in VESTIGES_06: APORIA {utterance as a fraught passage}.
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ave-studio · 6 months
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16 November 2023
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On Thursday, 16 November 2023, I will be reading a portion of the forthcoming English translation of Michael Surya’s Dead End by Kit Schluter. The entire book will be read by the six of us together. Join us at Black Spring Books.
DEAD END (translated to English from French by Kit Schluter) is a sinuous pornographic work that forms a part of Michel Surya’s series of erotic books released in France over the past four decades. Drafted around 1985, rediscovered among the author’s papers in 2004, and revised in 2006, Dead End speaks with the cerebral starkness of a vanitas painting. Here, the limits of excess themselves are stifling, erotic immoderation no longer satisfies, and worldly anguish reveals itself as ever crueler, more evident. Developing a genre unto itself which might be termed “neurotica,” this flood of language—rawer with every unpunctuated breath—affirms and reaffirms the fear that we are beyond salvation. As full of vertiginous bravado and self-loathing as it is of sensual generosity and the genuine search for mutual pleasure, Dead End’s address of the beloved unspools with the devastating, nearly religious force of total confession. This translation by Kit Schluter, featuring a foreword by French poet Amandine André, marks the debut of Surya’s fiction in the English language.
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Book Parallels~
The Folk of the Air
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If You Could See the Sun
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inspiredbyabook · 1 year
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xiala of the teek from black sun by rebecca roanhorse
don’t sink your ship just to prove you can swim
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roguesenses · 1 year
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maybe we are not meant for the perfect ending @ofdetonation !
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The beach was quiet, but in the best, most relaxing way. Izuku sank his toes into the golden sand, reveling in its warmth. UA kids were given some time off - they all deserved it after everything they had been through. Most were occupied playing beach volleyball, while others went off exploring. Izuku was told to stay close to the shore until his remaining injuries healed while one or two of the others kept him company at all times. They didn't need to, and he had reassured them multiple times that he was fine, but his classmates were capable of being very stubborn when it came to taking care of him. They were worried about his mental state, you see, because the war had taken something very precious from him - One for All.
In a way, it was the perfect price to pay for peace. One for All was always meant to defeat All for One, so it made sense for them to take each other out in the end. Izuku was quirkless again, but he didn't mind, because he was able to protect those he cared about and restore his loved ones' smiles.
Still, his head felt empty without the previous users, and every so often he got a sinking feeling in his chest like he was missing something. For the first few nights, he couldn't sleep, and that turned out to be a good thing, he supposed, because otherwise, he would have missed out on some important conversations.
Izuku leaned back, resting his head against Katsuki's shoulder. The blond was either too preoccupied with cutting up the watermelon to shake him off or decided this was grudgingly allowable after what they discussed.
His eyes slid from the bridge of Katsuki's nose, down his neck, then fixated on his chest. This wasn't allowable and should he stare a few seconds longer, he'd probably get barked at. Izuku had been doing that a lot lately, weirdly finding himself staring at Katsuki's chest, eyes searching across the smooth skin without understanding exactly what he was looking for. Was something missing there?
Stop it. Izuku internally nudged himself to calm down. The war was over and everything was set to right, so he must stop feeling restless as if something was wrong still. Was this PTSD? Maybe he should talk to someone after all. They did hire that nice new counselor with a soothing voice...
As Izuku's gaze shifted, he spotted someone in the distance. Tattered clothing, bruises, and blood. This person did not feel like he belonged on this beach of serene beauty and laughter.
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"Kacchan?" He sat up, puzzled. "But..." Kacchan was sitting right behind him. How could there...be two?
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byronicist · 2 years
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“Then isn’t there something wrong in a house—in a world—where all dreams, good or bad, must depend on the death of a man?”
Lorraine Hansberry, A Raisin in the Sun (1958)
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lvllns · 1 year
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there’s something very comforting in going from talking on skype until three in the morning almost every day to reaching out once every few months and yet. it feels like nothing has changed.
#reed.txt#i feel like we could catch right up where we left off and it'd be fine#one of my best friends in the world who i've never even met in person and it's been like. thirteen years.#i dunno it's just like. people exist outside of you.#shit happens and sometimes people you thought were going to be a daily staple become. not that.#you can keep in touch and talk and update each other and it's. i dunno. sometimes people are meant to leave#and open that space for someone else who fits better. who. who settles you and makes you feel comfortable and at ease.#it's just. the knowledge that things change but the cores of humans remain (mostly) the same#i know if i asked her for advice she'd happily give it (because i did this a couple months ago)#and she sends me horse things saying 'this made me think of you' and i don't know!!#everything is okay!!! everything is going to be okay!!! that's the WHOLE POINT#the sun rises and sets and the earth spins and it will be cloudy and rain but there will be sunshine and clear skies#and there will be nights so ink black you can't see and they feel suffocating#and there will be nights so lit up by the moon and stars you have to shield your eyes#some people are meant to be cyclical in your life#they are meant to ebb and flow like tides#and sometimes if you're lucky you find a person or maybe a few#who become a forest of trees#stalwart and tall and you can sink to your knees and know that they will remain#you have people that shift and warp and people that never once flicker#i dunno i dunno i'm spewing out words but i just. not everyone you meet is going to be a constant is the poinst#*point#but when you find someone who is a tree or a lighthouse or. or.#or someone who makes you feel so SAFE you can't take it you have to keep them close#the amount of people i've met and been 'i want you in my life forever' is very few. my forest is small. but it is made up of people#who bring me so much inner peace and who i love so very much
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neilphen · 8 months
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storms mostly passed, but its windy and cloudy today :]
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pardonmystardust · 9 months
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.
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rachel-614 · 1 year
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Okay, let me tell you a story:
Once upon a time, there was a prose translation of the Pearl Poet’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was wonderfully charming and lyrical and perfect for use in a high school, and so a clever English teacher (as one did in the 70s) made a scan of the book for her students, saved it as a pdf, and printed copies off for her students every year. In true teacher tradition, she shared the file with her colleagues, and so for many years the students of the high school all studied Sir Gawain and the Green Knight from the same (very badly scanned) version of this wonderful prose translation.
In time, a new teacher became head of the English Department, and while he agreed that the prose translation was very wonderful he felt that the quality of the scan was much less so. Also in true teacher tradition, he then spent hours typing up the scan into a word processor, with a few typos here and there and a few places where he was genuinely just guessing wildly at what the scan actually said. This completed word document was much cleaner and easier for the students to read, and so of course he shared it with his colleagues, including his very new wide-eyed faculty member who was teaching British Literature for the first time (this was me).
As teachers sometimes do, he moved on for greener (ie, better paying) pastures, leaving behind the word document, but not the original pdf scan. This of course meant that as I was attempting to verify whether a weird word was a typo or a genuine artifact of the original translation, I had no other version to compare it to. Being a good card-holding gen zillenial I of course turned to google, making good use of the super secret plagiarism-checking teacher technique “Quotation Marks”, with an astonishing result:
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By which I mean literally one result.
For my purposes, this was precisely what I needed: a very clean and crisp scan that allowed me to make corrections to my typed edition: a happily ever after, amen.
But beware, for deep within my soul a terrible Monster was stirring. Bane of procrastinators everywhere, my Curiosity had found a likely looking rabbit hole. See, this wonderfully clear and crisp scan was lacking in two rather important pieces of identifying information: the title of the book from which the scan was taken, and the name of the translator. The only identifying features were the section title “Precursors” (and no, that is not the title of the book, believe me I looked) and this little leaf-like motif by the page numbers:
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(Remember the leaf. This will be important later.)
We shall not dwell at length on the hours of internet research that ensued—how the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, grading abandoned in shadows half-lit by the the blue glow of the computer screen—how google search after search racked up, until an email warning of “unusual activity on your account” flashed into momentary existence before being consigned immediately and with some prejudice to the digital void—how one third of the way through a “comprehensive but not exhaustive” list of Sir Gawain translators despair crept in until I was left in utter darkness, screen black and eyes staring dully at the wall.
Above all, let us not admit to the fact that such an afternoon occurred not once, not twice, but three times.
Suffice to say, many hours had been spent in fruitless pursuit before a new thought crept in: if this book was so mysterious, so obscure as to defeat the modern search engine, perhaps the answer lay not in the technologies of today, but the wisdom of the past. Fingers trembling, I pulled up the last blast email that had been sent to current and former faculty and staff, and began to compose an email to the timeless and indomitable woman who had taught English to me when I was a student, and who had, after nearly fifty years, retired from teaching just before I returned to my alma mater.
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After staring at the email for approximately five or so minutes, I winced, pressed send, and let my plea sail out into the void. I cannot adequately describe for you the instinctive reverence I possess towards this teacher; suffice to say that Ms English was and is a woman of remarkable character, as much a legend as an institution as a woman of flesh and blood whose enduring influence inspired countless students. There is not a student taught by Ms. English who does not have a story to tell about her, and her decline in her last years of teaching and eventual retirement in the face of COVID was the end of an era. She still remembers me, and every couple months one of her contemporaries and dear friends who still works as a guidance counsellor stops me in the hall to tell me that Ms. English says hello and that she is thrilled that I am teaching here—thrilled that I am teaching honors students—thrilled that I am now teaching the AP students. “Tell her I said hello back,” I always say, and smile.
Ms. English is a legend, and one does not expect legends to respond to you immediately. Who knows when a woman of her generation would next think to check her email? Who knows if she would remember?
The day after I sent the email I got this response:
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My friends, I was shaken. I was stunned. Imagine asking God a question and he turns to you and says, “Hold on one moment, let me check with my predecessor.”
The idea that even Ms. English had inherited this mysterious translation had never even occurred to me as a possibility, not when Ms. English had been a faculty member since the early days of the school. How wonderful, I thought to myself. What a great thing, that this translation is so obscure and mysterious that it defeats even Ms. English.
A few days later, Ms. English emailed me again:
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(I had, in fact searched through both the English office and the Annex—a dark, weirdly shaped concrete storage area containing a great deal of dust and many aging copies of various books—a few days prior. I had no luck, sadly.)
At last, though, I had a title and a description! I returned to my internet search, only to find to my dismay that there was no book that exactly matched the title. I found THE BRITISH TRADITION: POETRY, PROSE, AND DRAMA (which was not black and the table of contents I found did not include Sir Gawain) and THE ENGLISH TRADITION, a super early edition of the Prentice Hall textbooks we use today, which did have a black cover but there were absolutely zero images I could find of the table of contents or the interior and so I had no way of determining if it was the correct book short of laying out an unfortunate amount of cold hard cash for a potential dead end.
So I sighed, and relinquished my dreams of solving the mystery. Perhaps someday 30 years from now, I thought, I’ll be wandering through one of those mysterious bookshops filled with out of print books and I’ll pick up a book and there will be the translation, found out last!
So I sighed, and told the whole story to my colleagues for a laugh. I sent screenshots of Ms. English’s emails to my siblings who were also taught by her. I told the story to my Dad over dinner as my Great Adventure of the Week.
…my friends. I come by my rabbit-hole curiosity honestly, but my Dad is of a different generation of computer literacy and knows a few Deep Secrets that I have never learned. He asked me the title that Ms. English gave me, pulled up some mysterious catalogue site, and within ten minutes found a title card. There are apparently two copies available in libraries worldwide, one in Philadelphia and the other in British Columbia. I said, “sure, Dad,” and went upstairs. He texted me a link. Rolling my eyes, I opened it and looked at the description.
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Huh, I thought. Four volumes, just like Ms. English said. I wonder…
Armed with a slightly different title and a publisher, I looked up “The English Tradition: Fiction macmillan” and the first entry is an eBay sale that had picture of the interior and LO AND BEHOLD:
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THE LEAF. LOOK AT THE LEAF.
My dad found it! He found the book!!
Except for one teensy tiny problem which is that the cover of the book is uh a very bright green and not at all black like Ms. English said. Alas, it was a case of mistaken identity, because The English Tradition: Poetry does have a black cover, although it is the fiction volume which contains Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
And so having found the book at last, I have decided to purchase it for the sum of $8, that ever after the origins of this translation may once more be known.
In this year of 2022 this adventure took place, as this post bears witness, the end, amen.
(Edit: See here for part 2!)
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grantihare · 1 year
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sunrise looks so good on him
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shawtuzi · 10 months
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finking of morning sex w plug!eren
mdni pls and thank you///cw include: black fem!reader, drug usage (weed), a lot of sexual tension, lazy morning sex that eventually turns kinda rough, some fluff
9:03 AM
the early morning sun nearly blinded you as eren opened the blacked out curtains in your shared bedroom. “ren what the fuck,” you whined burying your face in the plush pillow you were just a few seconds ago sleeping so peacefully on. eren chuckled, bringing a blunt he had freshly pearled to his lips that were still a bit swollen from last nights activities. you’d recently gotten into nibbling and biting on his lips during your intense kisses and although he found it extremely hot he was definitely paying the price for it.
“suns up mama, time to get up….unless you want me to finish this without you,” he smirked blowing a fat cloud of smoke in your direction. you lifted your head from the pillow, a deep scowl on your face. you begrudgingly sat up making eren grin, “yeah that’s what i thought, go freshen up real quick i’ll roll another one while you’re gone.” you let out a dramatic sigh before making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.
when you walked back into the room eren was laid up on the bed, little o shaped clouds of smoke flying into the air. “turn on some music,” he grumbled and you quirked a brow waiting for him to finish his sentence with a ‘please.’ when he saw you weren’t moving the realization hit him pretty damn quick, “sorry i meant turn on some music please.” you smiled and happily complied, turning on the speaker. you put on ‘feels like summer’ by childish gambino before flopping onto the bed. “careful baby careful—almost made me ash on my chest,” he chuckled giving your ass a light smack.
“yeah yeah whatever gimme some,” you plucked the blunt from his hands and took a long hit. you maneuvered your body onto his lap, his morning wood definitely not going unnoticed. “what’s on the agenda for today babydoll,” he asked tracing his name over and over on your thigh with his index finger. you handed the blunt back over to him before speaking, “mika invited us to brunch at one, then i have my nail appointment at four, we’ll have to do some grocery shopping tonight, and then i was thinking for dinner i could make that cajun chicken alfredo you like so much.” eren was trying to listen he was really was!! but it was so damn hard when your clothed pussy was directly against his dick that was practically straining against his boxers.
“you listening to me ren?” you giggled snapping your fingers in front of his face. a lazy grin broke out on his face and he nodded, “mhm of course i’m listenin’.” the room was slowly but surely becoming boxed and the more it did the more you and eren we’re feeling the effects of the drug. “had a dream about you last night,” you hummed, leaning back, resting your hands on his muscly thighs. eren smirked, his eyes drifting to your cunt that was practically swallowing your panties. he grabbed the second blunt he had rolled and lit it, “yeah? tell me all about it mama.”
“you were eating me out…and you had those fuckin’ grills in. you were doing such a good job i think i might’ve came in my sleep from it,” you sighed dreamily thinking of how damn fine eren always looked when he had his grills in. you felt eren’s dick twitch but didn’t dare say anything, deciding to tease him a little and see how long he’d last. he handed the blunt to you, a low groan rumbling in his chest. “those grills always make you so weak in the knees don’t they?” he said giving you a lazy smirk. his rough hands trailed from your thick thighs, up your tummy, and finally to your breasts where he gave them a soft squeeze. his thumbs brushed over your nipples and you shivered, nearly dropping the blunt in the process.
you head felt like someone had yanked out your brain and replaced it with hot air bc by god all you could think about right now was eren eren eren. “you dream about me a lot?” he asked, mindlessly toying with your breasts. oh he didn’t even know the half of it. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip, nodding at his question. you were supposed to be doing the teasing, but as always eren had the upper hand and was able to turn you into mush with just a few lewd touches. he looked like a dream right now—his jade eyes were red and hooded, his hair that was usually up was down and cascaded beautifully over his broad shoulders, and he had this damn smirk on his face that was getting your panties wetter by the minute.
‘rendezvous’ by partynextdoor (a song that just so happened to be on your sex playlist) began playing, increasing the sexual tension tenfold. eren’s nonchalant façade began to crumble once of felt your wetness begin to seep into the material of his boxers. “you know if you wanna fuck all you have to do is ask, can practically feel your heartbeat on my dick,” his words made your breath hitch making him smirk for the umpteenth time. “no you…no you can’t! don’t be weird,” you pouted slapping his chest. you hadn’t even realized how turned on you actually were until you felt how uncomfortably slick your pussy had gotten.
eren slowly pulled your panties to the side and this mf actually whistled when he finally laid eyes on your soaked center. “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself running a finger through your slit. eren took one final hit of the blunt before setting it in the ashtray on the bedside table. without warning he plunged two fingers in your cunt making you gasp but as soon as they were in he pulled them right back out. he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked your essence off of them until they were clean. “i think i’m gonna let you do the work this morning,” he smiled, snapping your panties back into place. you were taken aback at his words a soft ‘huh?’ leaving your pouting lips.
“this weed got me feeling kinda lazy, use me to get off baby i know you can do it,” he gave your thigh a few soft pats and you whined. you sat up just the slightest bit to pull eren’s boxers down mid thigh, his painfully hard dick slapping against his toned stomach. it was a struggle to get your panties off without fully standing up but you managed, and as soon as they were off you began grinding your pussy up and down his dick. each time his mushroom tip nudged against your clit you let out a little mewl that was music to eren’s ears. “goddamn babydoll haven’t even put it in yet and you’re already making my dick wet as fuck,” he groaned, digging his fingers into the plush of your thighs. your slick had his dick glistening in sunlight and man oh man was it a sight to see.
you didn’t even care that he wasn’t inside you yet, all you could focus on was how hard n warm his dick was. “you already gonna cum? hm?” eren breathlessly chuckled and you replied with a weak ‘uh huh.’ one side of eren wanted to take charge so bad and just fuck you silly, but the other part of him was loving how you were taking the lead and becoming so so consumed in the pleasure you were getting just from grinding on his dick.
within minutes you were cumming on his dick with a pathetic whimper, your hands slamming onto his chest so you were able to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible. you were incredibly sensitive in that moment thanks to the two blunts you previously smoked, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your hand around eren’s dick, using your cum as a lubricant to slowly jerk him off. “just…just need a minute to regroup,” you breathlessly giggled, flicking your wrist a tad faster. eren groaned quietly, his eyes fluttering shut. “take all the time you need baby i’m—s-shit, i’m content as can be right now,” and he really was!! he had gods most beautiful creation taking care of him how could he not be loving life right now??
“‘kay think i’m ready,” you whispered to yourself before moving your body up until his tip was at your entrance. you slowly lowered yourself down, whining at the stretch. it rlly didn’t matter how many times you and eren had fucked you just couldn’t quite get used to the stinging stretch from that first push in. you finally bottomed out and eren’s hands wasted no time finding purchase on your hips. you felt so full.
“feels s’good ren,” you mewled, slowly moving your hips up and down. you pressed your lips to his in a needy kiss which he happily returned, shoving his tongue in your mouth in the process. “i know baby i know. feel so fuckin’ good—like heaven i swear you feel like heaven,” he grunted, bucking his hips up. you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, giving it a few soft nibbles. ‘so cute’ he thought to himself as you suckled on his lip. he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing lazy circles onto the throbbing nub. “keep doin’ that m’gonna cum again,” your voice was becoming slurred as your second orgasm of the day was approaching.
you buried your face in eren’s neck letting out little chants of his name as your orgasm washed over you. your mind was so fuzzy the only thing keeping you grounded was the smell of eren’s pine scented body wash. “come back to me baby it’s okay i got you,” he murmured in your ear, stroking your back gently. “want…want some more but i can’t do it, need you to take control please,” you whimpered, twirling your fingers in the silky soft strands of his hair.
eren pressed a kiss to the side of your head and wrapped his strong arms around your back before bucking his hips up. usually his pace would be fast and unforgiving, but he knew you had plans for the day and didn’t want to make you completely fucked out. “yeah jus’ like that baby…love the way you fuck me,” your honey smooth voice moaned directly into his ear. oh how eren loved the praise. eren glanced at the alarm clock on your side of the bed:
10:37 AM
as much as he wanted to savor this moment he knew you’d need at least a thirty minute breather to regroup from the sex, and then it would take you about a good hour to get ready for brunch so unfortunately he had to make this quick. his thrusts picked up and you squealed from how hard his dick was bumping into your pressure point. yeah you’d definitely need a pretty long break afterwards. you removed your face from his neck and after what felt like an eternity eren was able to see your gorgeous semi-fucked out face. you couldn’t help the little droplet of drool that escaped from your kiss swollen lips—he was fucking you that good.
“c’mon renny gimme that nut i need it,” you pouted, squishing his cheeks together and giving him a sloppy kiss. eren moaned into your mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. “m’gonna give it to you don’t worry—f-fuck gonna…gonna fill that pretty pussy up,” he practically growled, giving you a harsh smack on your ass.
“gonna fill you up so full you’re gonna feel me in your tummy all—”
thrust
“fucking”
thrust
“day”
really really hard thrust
“oh shit!” you cried, unintentionally biting down pretty hard on eren’s poor bottom lip. the mix of pain and pleasure had eren’s eyes rolling as he finally came inside you with a deep groan. you weren’t too far behind, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. eren stilled his movements completely but kept your body in an iron grip against his. he hadn’t even realized your head had found purchase once again nuzzled into his neck until he heard little sniffles. worry began to coarse through his veins as he lifted your head from his neck, inspecting your face with his brows furrowed.
“what’s wrong? what happened? did i hurt you? why are you crying? talk to me please,” questions were coming out of his mouth left and right making you giggle. “wha-what? why are you laughing?” the smallest pout was settling on his lips and you internally cooed at how cute he was being. you cradled his jaw in your hands, giving his nose a soft kiss. “m’fine ren it was just a little intense, that shit is strong,” you laughed again, referring to the two roaches in the ashtray. eren let out a tiny sigh of relief after hearing you were okay, a small smile now making its way onto his lips. “damn you bit my lip kinda hard huh?” he chuckled, sweeping his tongue over his bottom lip and tasted the faintest bit of something metallic.
“m’sorry baby,” you frowned giving his lips three kisses. you slowly lifted yourself off of him making you both groan in unison. “i should probably go shower—don’t wanna be late,” you sighed, sitting up, careful not to let eren see the wince on your face. although eren was tough as nails, seeing you in any kind of pain after sex absolutely broke him.
eren sat up as well and followed you to the bathroom, his eyes drifting to the cum that slowly made its way down your thigh. “didn’t you already shower while i was sleep?” you quirked an eyebrow as steam began to fill the room. eren wrapped his arms around you from behind, giving your neck a sweet kiss, “i did but i certainly don’t mind taking another one with you.” you felt something hard poke at your back and it was all starting to make sense. “really eren? really? we just got done not even ten minutes ago,” you giggled breaking out of his hold. eren licked his lips as he examined your naked body, “s’not my fault ole boy likes you so much.”
“yeah whatever horndog.”
<333
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elliezato · 2 months
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𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎₊˚⊹♡
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Pairing: ellie x reader
Summary: You're not a huge fan of valentines day but your girlfriend has other ideas.
Warnings: MDNI!! NSFW!! edging, sex, strap-on, fingering, eating out, cussing
a/n: Sorry this is a little lateeee. I've been so busy today but I just HAD to write a fic for valentines day!! It's a bit rushed but I wanted to get something out before the day ended. I'll probably put out some loser!ellie valentines headcanons later tonight as well<3 I hope you all had a good day and enjoy this little date fic with ellie!!
❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎
Valentine's Day has never been something you cared about. It's tacky with all the cheap chocolate and stupid cards. You told your girlfriend you didn't want to do anything for Valentine's this year. All you really wanted was to snuggle up with her on the couch after work and maybe have a drink to celebrate.
You open the door to your shared apartment and set your shoes to the side. All the lights are off and everything is quiet. You call for Ellie but there's no answer. As you set your bag down on the counter you see a white envelope closed with a red heart. You pick it up to look at it and slowly open it. Inside is a letter and it reads...
"Meet me at ______ restaurant tonight at 9. There's a little something for you in the bedroom." - Love els ᥫ᭡
You close the letter and place it on the table. As you walk into the bedroom you see a red gift bag. You pick it up and pull out a black lacy dress with a small heart cutout in the chest. You have been eyeing this dress for a while and were surprised that Ellie even remembered. The dress isn't anything super sexy but it's something you've been wanting for a while. Ellie was never the type to buy you lingerie or anything like that but sometimes you'd surprise her with a little something every now and then.
You have about 2 hours until you have to be at the restaurant so you decide to take your time to get ready. Your hair is wet from the shower as you wash your face and throw it up in a towel to do your makeup. The sun is setting and you finish getting ready. Your hair is curled and your makeup is done. You grab the dress from the bed and put it on.
As you walk out the door to meet your girlfriend, you decide to call her to let her know you leaving, but to your surprise, she doesn't answer. You call her again but no answer. At this point, you're just ready to get to the date so you can see her.
You arrive at the restaurant and walk up to the host stand. Before you can even speak you see Ellie walking up to you. She's dressed in a large white button-up and some dress pants. You've never really seen her dressed up like this before. She walks up to you and hands you a rose before taking your hand.
"Hi baby" She smiles at you. "You look very pretty" She pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
"This is so stupid els" You laugh and squeeze her hand as you walk to your table.
The table is set with candles and roses and there are already two glasses of champagne waiting for you. The restaurant is quiet with other people enjoying their evening. Soft music is playing as you take a seat. Ellie reserved a table in an isolated part of the restaurant, in front of two large windows that look out to a view of the city.
"Ellie, why did you do all this?" You look up at her as you take a sip of your drink.
"Because you deserve a day. You've refused to let me do anything special for you on valentines day every year and this year I wanted to do something nice." She smiles at you from across the table.
As the evening goes on you two laugh and talk while enjoying a nice dinner. The minutes pass fast and the restaurant slowly empties. Eventually, you two get up to head back to your apartment. The air is cold as you step outside waiting for a taxi. You look up at Ellie's face which is now lit up by the city lights.
"I really enjoyed this. thank you Ellie." You give her a sappy smile
She wraps her arm around your waist "Just wait until we get back home" She looks at you with a grin smeared across her face.
The ride home is quiet. It's late and you rest your head on Ellie's shoulder. Her hand on your thigh, waiting to get back to the apartment.
----------------------------------------------------------
Ellie holds your hand as you walk into your apartment, rubbing her thumb on the back of your hand. Walking into your room, you sigh out of tiredness as you fall onto your bed. The cool sheets feel good on your skin.
"Stay here baby, I'll be right back" Ellie grabs something and walks out of the room.
You get undressed as you wait and throw on one of Ellie's oversized tees. The room is dark but the lights of the city gently add a soft lighting to the small room. As you lay down on your back right as Ellie walks into the room with a lighter. She places a candle on each nightstand and lights them, setting the mood. She's dressed in nothing but her boxers and a white tank top.
"Lay on your back" Ellie walks over and places kisses up your neck, leading to your lips.
As she meets your mouth, her hands hold your face and she presses her lips against yours. Fingers crawling up your shirt, reaching your chest. She grabs your breast and draws circles around your nipple.
"Ellie-" You softly moan into the kiss.
"Shhhh, baby I got you." She lets her tongue slip into your mouth as her hands help lift up your shirt.
She adjusts her body so her legs are now straddling your thighs. Her lips move back from yours, down to your neck. Your arms slide under her tank as you pull her closer to your body. She gently sucks on your neck, working her way down to your chest.
Her tongue reaches your nipples, slowly circling around them. Her hands move down your waist, finding your lace underwear. A finger slips past the waistband, pressing against your wet folds as she sucks your boob. You grab Ellie's shirt as you throw your head back. She moves her tongue to your other nipples while she starts to pull off your underwear, throwing it across the room. She kisses down your waist, meeting your clit.
"mmph- els" You squirm at her touch, looking down at her taking you in.
Her eyes meet yours while her tongue slides down your folds. Her fingers slowly slipping into you. Your fingers run through her hair, pulling as she pleasures you. She moans as she begins to suck at your clit. The vibrations against your skin cause a loud whimper to escape your lips. Her fingers slipping deeper into you as she moves faster.
You can feel the knot in your stomach start to unfold. She holds your waist down with her hand as her fingers cause your body to squirm under her body. Suddenly, she releases her mouth from your throbbing clit and removes her fingers from the inside of you.
"Ellie! please, I'm so close, don't stop" You're practically begging at this point, squeezing your thighs together.
"I know" She lifts from your waist and sits up. "Turn over for me"
You listen and lay on your stomach. She grabs your waist pulling it up as she slips a pillow under you. Her fingers are cold against your bare skin, causing shivers to run down your body. She pulls her strap out of her boxers, keeping them on. You feel yourself becoming antsy as your fingers find your clit.
"Be patient for me pretty girl" She grabs your wrist and pulls it away, pinning it above your head.
Her fingers slip between your folds, preparing you for her length. You grasp the pillow above you as she slowly pushes into you. She finds your waist, pulling your body towards her. Her pace fastens, causing your body to slam against her. Your arms shake from holding up your upper body. You fall into the bed as she fucks you.
"mmm- you feel so good, doing so well for me baby" She moans as her strap slams into you.
Your body now taking in the full length. Her fingers find your clit again, rubbing circles around it. The familiar warmth returns to your stomach. A tear falls from your eyes as you whimper her name"
"Fuck Ellie, s'close, I'm gonna cum-" Your voice is muted by the pillow your face is smashed into.
She doesn't stop. You can feel her hitting all the right spots. Your body is trembling beneath her. She grunts and cusses under her breath, you know she's close too. Finally, you feel yourself become undone as she thrusts harder into you.
"Almost there baby" She pants, not slowing down. Her movements are becoming sloppy as she tries to cum.
"Fuck!" She reaches her climax shortly after you, causing her to fall onto the bed next to you.
You turn over and lay on your back. She's trying to catch her breath as her arm falls across her face. She looks over and smiles at you, placing a kiss on your swollen lips. She pulls your body close to you, wrapping her arms around your bare skin. The kiss is sloppy but passionate. Both of you breathing heavily between the kisses trying to catch your breath.
After a few minutes resting in the comfort of each other, she gets up to get a damp cloth. She lifts your waist, cleaning you up before getting up to blow out the candles. She lays back down next to you and pulls the covers over your bodies. You wrap your legs around her as you head rests on her chest.
"Happy valentines day my girl, I love you" She places a soft kiss on your forehead.
"I love you too els" You close your eyes and feel yourself falling asleep in the arms of your girlfriend.
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breadbrobin · 4 months
Text
lavender roses
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of persephone reader]
summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.
warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers
word count: 3.3k
(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)
(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)
———————————————
“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.
you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.
he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”
you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?
either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”
“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.
the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”
if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.
what the fuck. why would you say that?
chris was staring at you in shock.
your mouth was dry.
and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”
when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.
chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”
“i have no idea,” you breathed.
“do you think he knows?”
your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”
valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.
you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.
he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”
you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.
you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.
your arrow barely hit the target.
luke winced. “that was… better.”
you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”
he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”
“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”
“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.
you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.
“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.
“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.
“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.
you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.
he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.
you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.
“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”
you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.
your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.
luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”
your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”
he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”
then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.
february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.
but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.
“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.
you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.
“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”
“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.
“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?
you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”
“at two?”
“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.
his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”
“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.
at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.
your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.
even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.
she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”
you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.
she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”
“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.
you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.
then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”
you sat up. “what?”
“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.
you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.
you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.
holy shit.
becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”
you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”
she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”
as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.
“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”
“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”
“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”
you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.
it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.
you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.
luke was no where to be found.
great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.
just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.
“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”
he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.
shit. that would make things more difficult.
“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”
“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.
gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“
“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”
your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.
but he led you past the fields and into the forest.
great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.
you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.
you knew where you were going.
there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.
you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.
he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.
you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.
you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”
“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.
“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.
luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.
finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.
as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.
you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.
you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.
and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.
you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.
“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”
“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”
his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“
“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“
“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”
you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”
“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”
“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”
“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”
“you, what?”
he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”
you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”
“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.
“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”
he didn’t.
soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.
“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.
“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.
you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.
the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.
fucking hell.
you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.
the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.
he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.
2K notes · View notes
roguesenses · 1 year
Note
hold my hand ,  i don’t want to lose track of you .
ᵗʰᵉ 𝑫𝑼𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑶𝒀𝑩𝑶𝑿 . (accepting)
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The sky was a beautiful heather purple, featuring streaks of gold and orange.
In his ears was the sound of laughter, children shouting at each other in joy as they raced with one another toward the game booths, betting on which one among them would be able to scoop up the most goldfish.
That was them, once upon a time.
Now, they were both surprisingly silent. Was it a sign of maturity, that they were becoming older and wiser...or something else?
Izuku dug his spoon deep into his cup of shaved ice, fetching a tiny syrupy mountain to rest on his tongue. It melted slowly, blueberry-flavored and icy, but doing nothing to ease the blush from his cheeks.
The fireworks were starting soon, and a second crowd of kids rushed by, temporarily pushing the two of them apart on their quest for a better viewing spot. That was when Katsuki said what he said, and Izuku's brain temporarily short-circuited.
Right, he thought as he started stretching his hand across the gap that separated them, once his mind was working properly again. It was just so they didn't lose track of each other. There were, after all, a lot of people around.
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Except there was a strange tickle inside of his chest when their fingers touched, and it had him internally panicking for reasons he didn't fully comprehend. Izuku felt his face burn with a new intensity, and this time all he could hear next to his ears was the sound of his own heart beating. He opened his mouth to say something stupid - there was always that desire to self-sabotage and ruin whatever this was between them. This time, though, he managed to force his lips shut again.
No flailing, he instructed himself firmly. No dismissals. At some point, he was going to have to face this head-on, and Izuku Midoriya was supposed to be brave.
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littledovesnow · 4 months
Text
the president's wife
what happens when some rebels try and get back at coryo >:-)
a/n: angst angst angst!!, read the prologue (?) here
content warning(s): mentions of death, kidnapping, kind of canon level violence???
“Are you almost ready, my love?” Coriolanus asked, walking into the bedroom as he finished closing the cuff links on his wrists.
You nodded, walking out of the closet with a pristine pair of black stilettos in your hand, red bottoms causing a grin to spread across your husband’s face.
“Going for the vintage heels tonight?”
“Only for the most special of occasions.” You smiled, taking his hand as you stepped into the shoes. “Are you ready for your party, President Snow?”
Coriolanus’ eyes lit up when you called him that, following you out into the foyer. “More ready for the after party with you.”
You lightly slapped him on the chest, looking up at his hair. “I do wish you grew your curls out again. That’s one more thing that District 12 took from me.”
Coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. He had decided to keep the shorter hair from his first days back from his Peacekeeping stint, stating it made him look more professional.
“Yes, but it’s less to grab onto.” You had replied when he first brought the idea up to you. That alone almost made him grow the curls back out, but once you two discovered that it was even more fun with a buzz on the sides, the style stayed.
“Did you ever hear back from Tigris?” You asked, stepping into the black town car that was going to take you to the party.
Coriolanus had extended an invitation to his cousin to the inauguration party, but she was out in District Four with Fabricia, not due back in the Capitol for another couple days.
“She said she would try and make the earliest train back, but I haven’t heard if she’s made it or not.”
You hummed, looking out the windows as the Capitol citizens made their way to the Citadel, hoping to get a glimpse of the new First Couple. Little did they know, said couple was riding alongside them.
Coriolanus looked you up and down, hand moving to your thigh and giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”
“I am, just nervous. You know I don’t like crowds.” You had a dislike for large crowds ever since you were a young girl, having seen your father shot by rebels during what was supposed to be a routine drill.
“After tonight, you’ll not have to worry about large crowds.” Coriolanus promised you, ready to give you anything and everything under the sun.
Smiling at him, you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, making sure the red lipstick you wore wasn’t noticeable. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Coriolanus whispered, car coming to a stop outside the front entrance of the Citadel.
-----
You had been introduced to dozens and dozens of people, you weren’t sure you even remembered who anyone was by the time you and Coriolanus were able to have a moment of peace.
There had been endless congratulations to the new President and First Lady, with handshakes and some hugs following.
Coriolanus took a sip of the posca in front of him, gesturing to the bar. “Why don’t you go ask for some champagne, I made sure they had some on order for tonight for you.”
A man after your own heart, you squeezed his hand before heading over to the bar, smiling at the bartender. “Champagne, please.”
“Ah, you’re the reason we have cases in the back.” The bartender smiled, popping the cork on a fresh bottle.
You smiled, thanking the man for the glass of bubbly. “Was champagne not a common drink with the last president?”
“No, his party-goers and visitors often went for posca and morphling over anything else.” The bartender, Gus, you read on his nametag, continued to pour drinks while talking to you. “But it seems like you and President Snow will have your fair share of pocsa and champagne, I presume?’
“Not really, Coryo doesn’t really drink unless it’s a social event.” You spoke, watching as Coriolanus was pulled into a conversation with some other politicans. “What else do you-”
You froze when you felt the telltale pressure of a gun barrel to your side.
“Move, speak, do anything to alert anyone and I’ll shoot.”
Swallowing, you looked over at Gus, who simply looked at your predicament and froze, as well, half-dry whiskey glass in his hands.
“Good.” You braved a look at the voice talking, seeing an unfamiliar man with sun damage on his face. If you had to take a stab at it, you’d guess he’s from District 11. “You’re going to follow me out the back, casually. As to not alert that husband of yours.”
“The president. You mean the president of Panem.” You whispered, regretting it as you felt the gun push harder into your side.
“Shut up.”
You braved one last look at Gus, who was about to speak when a gunshot rang out, your eyes growing wide as you saw blood stain his white shirt.
-----
Coriolanus was mid-sentence with some politicians trying to get money for District Four when he heard an all-too-familiar sound hit his ears.
People ducked for cover, screams were let out, and several Peacekeepers rushed over to Coriolanus to escort him out of the room.
He looked at the bar, heart racing when he saw you weren’t there. “Where’s my wife?” He asked, head swiveling to look around. “Did you see where she went?”
“Sir, there’s still a threat, we’ve got to move.” A Peacekeeper said, urging Coriolanus out of the room.
Unable to fight back against the increasing-number of Peacekeepers, Coriolanus was ushered into a saferoom of sorts, though nothing felt safe without you next to him.
“What the fuck happened? Where is my wife?” Coriolanus demanded, this was not how he predicted he’d be spending his first night as President.
One brave Peacekeeper spoke up. “We’re unsure of her location at the moment but-”
“What do you mean you’re unsure of her location? You better find her or your family will be wondering where you are in the morning.” Coriolanus threatened, eyes dark with rage and terror.
Peacekeepers raced out of the room, and Coriolanus collapsed into one of the seats along the wall, head falling into his hands.
He was going to lose you before you two even had a chance to live.
Heart hammering in his chest, he shot up when he heard the door open, Peacekeepers walking into the room. “There’s a bartender in the infirmary, Sir. He’s asking to speak to you.”
“Why would I-”
“He said he saw who took your wife.”
Coriolanus said no more, instead following the Peacekeepers down to the infirmary, trying to get the uneasy feeling out of his system.
Gus, who had miraculously survived a shot to the stomach, wasn’t really expecting the Peacekeepers to bring him President Snow, but he watched as the blonde followed two men into the room.
“Mr. President, I- I think some rebels broke into the party. They didn’t look Capitol, and I believe I saw one of them had a gun.”
Coriolanus immediately dismissed the Peacekeepers from the room, following them to the door and closing it.
He spun and looked at Gus, who was shaking a like a leaf. “You’re going to tell me everything you saw and heard up until they shot you. You’re going to help me find my wife, and I promise you, you will not have to worry about working again.”
Gus nodded, swallowing his nerves. “She- she was asking about what other drinks we had behind the bar. These two guys came up and I thought they were just guests, some past presidents had invited people from the Districts, I thought that’s what they were.”
Coriolanus felt his blood pressure rising by the second but urged Gus to continue.
“I didn’t know what they were going to do until Y/N stopped talking, and when I looked up I saw the run rammed into her side. I think- I think they went out the back exit.”
Coriolanus thanked Gus before darting out the door, leaving the Peacekeepers running after him.
-----
You looked around the dingy room, the only light coming from an oil lamp in the corner. “Where the hell am I?”
“Oh, she lives.”
You turned to try and get a look at the men who abducted you, though it was hard to make out any features in the dim light. “Where am I?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Swallowing, you took a deep breath, crying out when you tried to stand. You looked down, seeing blood dripping from a large gash on your leg.
“Oh, yeah you sliced your leg when you fell.” The man nodded to the rather sharp-looking scythe to the side of you.
The door opened, and your head snapped up to see two more men walking into the room, one of them dropping their jaw when they said you. “The President’s wife?! You’ve just signed our death certificates!”
Feeling a dull ache in your head, you watched as the man who presumably kidnapped you from the party held his hands up, lazy smile on his face.
“Not a worry, once Snow sees we have his wife, he’ll pay anything to get her back. We’ll be able to start harvesting faster than ever.”
“You are from 11, what do you want with me?” You asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in your leg.
“Oh, smart little bitch you are.” The main ringleader smiled at you, a handful of teeth missing.
“You see, when your dear little husband signed his name on the last bill passed in the Capitol, he took away a third of our pay. For what? Some hospital?”
You remained silent. Coriolanus had signed onto a bill that would help women’s health, a step in the direction of the fertility research he wanted to fund.
“There’s little we can do with what we made before, Mrs. Snow.” The man sneered, making a face when he said your name. “Now? We’re already starving out there. We had to do something to make him notice.”
“But abducting his wife?!” The most reasonable out of the three asked, arm shooting out to point at you. “Couldn’t, I don’t know? Blow something up?”
The men started arguing with each other, taking their attention off of you.
You took their quarrel as a chance to limp towards the door, not getting far from the immense pain you felt radiate from your leg. It was more than just a cut, you were sure of it.
-----
Coriolanus looked out the window, sun peaking over the mountains. He still had no idea where you were, and with each passing hour he feared for your life more.
“Coryo!” Tigris ran over to her cousin, enveloping him in a hug. “I came as soon as I got off the train, what happened?”
“Rebels, they have Y/N.” Coriolanus rasped, and Tigris’ frown deepened as she saw how worked up her cousin was. His hair was a mess from tugging at it, bags under his bloodshot eyes, once-pristine shirt was now wrinkled. “I have Peacekeepers out in all the Districts, the Capitol is being combed through.”
“They’ll find her, Coryo. They will.” Tigris said, hugging her cousin again. “They’re checking each train car as they come into the station, they’ll find her.”
Coriolanus nodded, looking back out over the skyline of the Capitol, knowing you were out there somewhere.
-break-
You were on a train, you heard the squeaking of the brakes as it came to a stop. “Where are we going?” You asked, tending to your now sore wrist, a result of stumbling off balance when you tried once again to walk on your busted leg.
“They’re searching all the cars. They’re going to find us.”
The ringleader didn’t think this far ahead, not planning on shooting Gus at the bar when he snuck into the party. Not planning on alerting the Peacekeepers as soon as he did.
“Fuck, fuck, uh, we have to run.”
You heard the knocking on the door, before the train car’s rusty door was slid open by Peacekeepers, who immediately fired their guns at the three rebels.
“Alert President Snow, we found his wife.”
You started to cry, wanting nothing more than to see Coriolanus after the last few hours.
-break-
Coriolanus ran through the halls of the hospital, Tigris hot on his heels.
“Where is she?!” He yelled, eyes frantic.
“Last door on your left, Mr. President.” The commanding Peacekeeper saluted the young man, nodding at Tigris as she followed her cousin.
 You looked up from the long line of stitches on your leg when you heard quick footsteps growing nearer, before you saw an all-too-familiar head of blonde hair come into view.
“Coryo,” you sighed, struggling to sit up, face contorting in pain.
“My love, take it easy.” Coriolanus rushed over to your side, pulling you into his arms. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe.”
You cried into your husband’s shoulder, dam finally breaking. “I- I was so s-scared, they had guns and- and I know that guns inherently aren’t that scary. But, Coryo, they- they were going to make you pay ransom!”
“I would’ve, I would’ve paid anything to get you back to me.” Coriolanus mumbled, forehead pressing against yours. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”
Tigris cleared her throat, and you looked behind Coriolanus to see the older Snow. “You’re back!”
“I’m back, but we’re going to catch up later. You need to rest, and you need to sleep.” She said, latter half of her statement aimed at her younger cousin.
You smiled at her, watching as she left the room and closed the door once more. “I’m sorry I ruined the party, Coryo.”
Coriolanus made a noise in the back of his throat. “You didn’t ruin it, gorgeous. Those rebels did, though I heard they were already taken care of.”
Nodding, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the image of their dead bodies out of your head. “What are you going to do to their families?” You asked quietly, knowing vengeance was in store for them.
Shaking his head, Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, just focus on your health.”
-----
a/n: i love angst with a fluffy ending, it is my favorite. also i told you titles are my kryptonite i cannot do them right
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