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#enemy to lovers
madmanwonder · 3 months
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OH NO JAUNE FOUND OUT THAT THE INTERNET PAIRS HIM WITH HIS BEST FRIEND'S KILLER AND THE REASON WHY HE KILLED PENNY!
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poisonlove · 7 months
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It's Fine | j.o
Sorry I'm very sorry
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Part 3
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" I yelled in panic, my eyes anxiously scanning the ride as it slowly ascended along the track. "Stop complaining and enjoy the roller coaster," Jenna replied with a small smile, her eyes shining with adrenaline.
She had the absurd idea of coming to the county fair to try out some new rides. I had never been very comfortable with these attractions, but Jenna was always seeking adventures. My heart was racing, my breath quickening. I was afraid of heights and the thought of being suspended in the air. But Jenna seemed completely at ease.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "Okay, maybe I could give it a try. But just one!" I said, still trying to convince myself.
We continued to wait as the ride reached its highest point. Then, with a sudden jolt, the brakes gave way, and we were catapulted downward. "CRAP!" I exclaimed loudly, my eyes wide with surprise. Instinctively, I placed my hand on Jenna's, hoping to find support to prevent me from falling during the ride. Her slender fingers intertwined with mine in an instant, strengthening the grip of my hold.
In the blink of an eye, the death-defying ride came to a stop.
The safety bar lifted, allowing us to exit, and I thanked the heavens for still being alive. "See? It was fun," Jenna said with a huge smile plastered on her lips. "Fun? I saw my soul leave my body," I muttered distractedly. "You're always such a drama queen," Jenna teased, while fixing her ruffled hair.
My eyes slowly descended to our still intertwined hands. In that moment, a wave of self-awareness washed over me, causing my cheeks to blush intensely. I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly awkward, and with a clumsy gesture, I released our grip.
Jenna made a disappointed face but quickly replaced it with a shy smile.
"You don't know what I'm usually like; you don't know me at all," I exclaimed with irritation, remembering the times Jenna used to tease me.
"Can we move on?" Jenna's voice sounded like a plea. "I've told you several times that I want to change, to be myself," she concluded, looking at me seriously.
I opened my mouth indignantly and sighed heavily. "Mmmh," I grumbled, still not entirely convinced. "I didn't hear that," Jenna said with a small smile on her lips. "Fine... I'll try," I muttered under my breath.
"Well then... I must say that this sweatshirt looks great on you," Jenna complimented, changing the subject.
I had decided to wear a simple gray sweatshirt and a pair of ripped jeans that matched my Adidas sneakers.
"Thanks," I smiled, embarrassed. "You too... I mean... you look beautiful, umm... you looked beautiful this morning too, but that's not the point," I stammered, blushing.
Jenna chuckled softly and tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "What do you want to do now?" she asked eagerly, looking around at the bustling fairground rides with bright eyes. My eyes fixed on the Ferris wheel, longing to see the city from above and find some quiet in this bustling fair.
"What do you say we take a ride on the Ferris wheel?" I asked timidly, and Jenna smiled to the side. "I knew you wanted to go there, old lady," Jenna teased and nudged me playfully in the side. "But if you want to go on the Ferris wheel, then let's go," she said with enthusiasm.
Jenna timidly, with flushed cheeks, reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers as we walked toward the enormous Ferris wheel. The sensation was overwhelming, and my body seemed torn between the instinct to pull away in fear and the irresistible desire to draw closer due to the sweet feeling this contact was causing.
Jenna's thumb instinctively caressed the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. Her nails, light as feathers, glided gently on my skin, creating an electrifying sensation.
Jenna approached the counter with a smile on her lips. "Can I have two tickets for the Ferris wheel, please?" She asked politely.
The person behind the counter handed over the tickets, and Jenna handed over a $10 bill to pay for the ride.
"You don't have to pay for me..." I murmured timidly, feeling indebted.
Jenna looked at me with a small smile on her lips. "I'm inviting, I'm paying."
Our turn arrives, and with tickets in hand, we step onto the Ferris wheel. An awkward silence envelops us as we settle into the cabin. Slowly, the wheel starts moving upward. Unlike roller coasters, the Ferris wheel gives me a unique sense of security and tranquility.
As we ascend, the city unfolds before us, bathed in the warm sunlight. Streets wind like intricate mazes, buildings stand majestically, and golden reflections on the nearby river create a magical atmosphere. The city seems like a different world from up here, and I can't tear my eyes away from this enchanting spectacle.
I hear a strange noise beside me and see Jenna focused on something.
"What are you doing?" I ask in confusion.
"I'm... wait a second," Jenna murmurs softly, concentrating.
My eyes shift downward, and I notice with careful attention that Jenna's skirt has ridden up slightly due to her awkward position. My cheeks flush with red, and I instinctively look away, trying to maintain a certain level of privacy in the cramped Ferris wheel cabin.
Jenna shifts and turns toward me, her eyes shining with pride.
"Look at what I've done!" she says with enthusiasm.
Squinting my eyes, I try to figure out what Jenna has done. My mouth falls open in realization, and I look at Jenna beside me with an expression of reproach.
"You vandalized the ride?" I ask, closely examining the etching Jenna made with a key.
"Stop seeing the negative side," Jenna exclaims, evidently annoyed. "I wanted to be romantic," she murmurs softly.
A small smile spreads across my lips as I observe Jenna's doodle: my initial + J enclosed in a heart.
How can someone so brash be so endearing?
Jenna raises her eyebrows mischievously and smiles genuinely. "Ehmm... don't I deserve a reward?" she asks boldly.
"A reward?" I inquire with confusion.
Jenna rolls her eyes at my words but then smiles shyly. My pupils dilate as I watch Jenna close her eyes and slowly extend her lips, inviting me to kiss.
"I'm waiting," Jenna's statement sounds odd, given the angle of her mouth.
I reflect on how well Jenna has behaved in these past few hours. Blushing, I decide to approach her.
Now, closer to Jenna, I can observe her face more closely. Her closed eyes, awaiting the kiss, are framed by long lashes. As I look at her from such a proximity, I notice the various freckles surrounding her face, giving Jenna a unique and captivating appearance.
The conscience in the back of my head warns me, and hesitating for a moment, I lean in to delicately kiss Jenna's cheek. My action causes Jenna to tense under the touch of my lips on her skin.
She stammers something incomprehensible, her words forming only disjointed sounds, while her cheeks blaze with embarrassment.
"Let's get off!" Jenna yells, jumping up and swiftly exiting the ride as soon as it returns to the ground, as if she needed a sudden escape.
I chuckle tenderly and follow Jenna off the ride.
Jenna rubs her cheeks with her hands and then straightens her back, trying to regain her composure.
"Ehmm... I want cotton candy," Jenna exclaims with a small smile, turning towards me, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"How do you want it?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, curious.
"Pink, hippo!" she exclaims with a contagious smile on her lips.
***
Several weeks have passed since that exciting encounter at the fair, and things between Jenna and me have evolved in a surprising way.
"Are you really sure about what you're doing?" Sofia asks with concern, looking at me seriously.
"Yes..." I smile timidly.
Jenna has slowly distanced herself from the "popular" group, making up excuses one after another. Of course, she still continues to be a cheerleader, but this time she avoids any contact with her former best friend, Cassie, who has since become the leader of the group.
"I really see a change in her," I murmur with flushed cheeks. "It's... how can I put it," I whisper. "Kind." I bite my lower lip trying to hide a smile.
The physical violence has decreased considerably, but the insults are still there.
"Y/n/n... I just want you to be happy," Sofia states, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Because it seems strange to me that she never shows up with you," she murmurs, trying to make me see reason.
This is true... when we were at school, Jenna never stayed with me, not even in class. We exchanged greetings in the hallways, and then she would go talk to her group of friends. Without looking at me.
But I understood; it wasn't easy to come out, and I would be patient all the time.
"Okay, fine... see you later," Sofia gave me a kiss on the cheek and smiled genuinely before heading to the locker rooms.
I smiled to myself as I turned towards the school's exit. But in the distance, I saw Asher, and my blood froze. The brunette smirked maliciously.
"Get her!" he yelled angrily, and panic engulfed me when a pair of arms dragged me towards the bleachers on the football field.
"What do you want! Let me go!" I screamed, feeling uncontrollable fear. "Please," I whispered, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
The guys threw me to the ground. "What the hell did you do to Jenna, huh? Why did she distance herself from us?" Asher shouted angrily.
"What? What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion, tears streaming down my cheeks.
A powerful slap made me turn my head in the opposite direction. The pulsating pain shot through my face, and a metallic taste filled my mouth as I bled slightly.
"TELL ME!" Asher muttered through his teeth, his voice filled with anger.
Crying uncontrollably, I felt the searing pain on my cheek. Asher looked at me with eyes overflowing with rage and delivered a violent kick to my stomach, causing me to bend forward.
The pain spread through my body like a wave of fire. It was a sharp, burning pain that seemed to steal my breath away. Tears kept flowing, but I desperately tried to hide them as I endured the physical agony I was enduring.
I spat blood on the ground, looking at Asher with fear and anger.
"I don't know what the hell you want... but I suggest you go to hell," I murmured, forcing a bitter smile, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
"Damn..." Asher muttered and leaned in to give me another punch.
I closed my eyes, preparing to take the blow when a voice suddenly interrupted the jerk.
"ASHER!" someone yelled.
I turned towards the sound of the voice and saw Jenna walking towards us with a worried look. Jenna was wearing the cheerleader uniform, most likely preparing for practice.
Jenna alternated her gaze between me and Asher before crouching down and looking at me seriously. Her hands gently moved along my face, trying to assess the wounds.
She clenched her teeth when she saw the deep cut on my cheek, her expression full of concern.
"Are you okay?" Jenna whispered softly.
"Yes..." I replied with a small smile.
"What the hell is going on, Jenna?" Asher asked incredulously. "Since when are you hanging out with this loser?" he questioned skeptically.
Jenna sighed loudly. "Since I fell in love with her... okay?" she said irritably. "What... you..." Asher stammered in surprise.
"You heard me; do you have a problem with that?" Jenna challenged.
Asher looked at his friends and, with a quick glance, they decided it was better to leave. "It's not over, Ortega," Asher muttered before walking towards the school's exit.
Jenna sighed and turned to me.
"You didn't have to..." I began.
"No... I had to, it's the right thing to do," Jenna said with a small smile. "But it wasn't necessary..." I said timidly.
Jenna put her hands around my face, making eye contact with me. "It's necessary to be honest with yourself... and I'm bisexual," she whispered softly, smiling.
Jenna leaned in shyly and joined our lips in a tender kiss.
The kiss was sweet and gentle, a celebration of honesty and mutual acceptance. Jenna's lips were warm and inviting, and our contact grew more intense. It was as if we were merging into a single moment of understanding and affection, and all doubts or fears seemed to fade away.
My hands instinctively rested against her hips, feeling the exposed skin under my fingertips.
Jenna smiled genuinely.
Our lips slowly parted, a trickle of saliva connecting our mouths broke gently.
"You can't understand how long I've been waiting for this," Jenna exclaimed contentedly, giving me a small kiss on the lips.
"Me too..." I whispered softly.
"Do you know that you'll probably have trouble with Asher now, right?" I asked, worried.
Jenna pressed our foreheads together, smiling sweetly. "I don't care anymore... to hell with school and all the jerks like Asher..." she confessed in a breath by my lips.
"The only thing that matters to me is you, my little hippo," she exclaimed, stretching her lips into a beautiful and huge smile.
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jovialmoonprincess · 5 months
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AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 1)
Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 
Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.
Word Count: 992
Warning(s): None, enemy to lovers, back in time, destiny, Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Follow or like (or both) for part 2!
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A month still remained until the announcement of the Plinth Award winner. While Y/N was still somewhat sleepy, in the midst of summer, a brief and subtle snowfall danced outside her window. Believing she was still dreaming, the student got up, opened the window, extended her arm, and touched the flakes to make sure. It was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen; it seemed like magic. She felt the urge to run out and celebrate the arrival of snow, as she did when she was a child. Maybe the Capitol had created a new technology and was testing it in the middle of the night. It seemed like a plausible theory. Y/N closed the window and sat at the edge of the bed, still feeling the coldness of the ice on her fingers. It didn't feel like a dream; Y/N wasn't a girl who dreamed often either. The last time she dreamt, she was in a park in the Capitol, with her mother gently pushing her on the swing. The games were over, people lived happily again, all in one place, there was peace, and no one would go hungry. As a kid, Y/N had suffered through the war, something she wouldn't overcome. And even now, in a place without hunger, with clean clothes and in the best school in the country, she still wasn't completely happy. How could she be happy while people were dying outside? Y/N quietly prayed to herself that a good person would become president, and her dream could come true. For now, she could only study to become someone who could make a difference in Panem. Even if she didn't know where to start.
Y/N looked out the window, and as the snow fell, she returned to her slumber. She couldn't help but think of another Snow, one that still brought her fond memories. Y/N was an idealistic young woman, driven by the memories of war and the fervent desire to make a difference in Panem. Her father, a respected peacekeeper, had left a controversial legacy, but she strove to follow a path of kindness and justice. Her father died after a while from an illness that was never properly explained; Y/N was sure that the reason for his death was remorse—his hands had innocent blood, and he knew it. He withered away gradually, and on his deathbed, he declared his hatred for war and those who supported it. He died cursing the Capitol and its architects.
Y/N wanted to be a better person; she had this opportunity, had hope to change the world around her. Every day, while donning the Academy uniform, she mentally prepared herself to enter the snake pit that was that place. She couldn't pick fights with anyone, even though she wanted to desperately. She remembered how many fights she had tried to avoid only to end up completely ignored and still punished for her good intentions.
The snow falling outside brought back memories of a simpler time, before the fights and rivalries that marked her life at the Academy.
Y/N was beloved by everyone in school, even though she couldn't care less about those spoiled and corrupt rich kids. She couldn't stand them, but there was someone she detested even more: Coriolanus Snow. He wasn't like the others; his past was different, more similar to hers. And yet, he seemed to forget that. He only cared about his grades and not the people around him. They had fought several times since Y/N entered the academy. It was impossible for them to be in the same room without disagreeing about something. She still remembered their first fight when she asked her brother for help to finish a project of a class they were doing together, and they both ended up with the same grade. Snow, not content with just his top grade, found out and did everything to get the teacher to lower Y/N's grade. Insufferably arrogant. As beautiful as he was, he was despicable. After that, it got worse; he always reminded her that she was the second-best student in the class and that he was better, blah, blah, blah. He never even wondered if you cared about your grades. Apart from this obsession, he was nice outside the academy. You were good friends with Tigris; you loved her, and it wasn't because of Corio that you would stop seeing your friend.
Before all of this, Corio had been a nice guy a few times (most of them when he wasn't all pompous around his rich friends). You invited him to the winter ball before the first fight, close to your first anniversary in the Capitol. You danced all night, and he gave you your first kiss. It was quick, and you never talked about it again. Even that scene still gave you chills to this day. It was only after your grades increased and you began to stand out in class that he started treating you with a certain indifference. It was childish, and you felt a weight on your chest for not continuing with what you had, even if it was little. What was once little became nothing. You still saw Tigris from time to time, but Corio rarely left his room, where he had been locked studying for the last few months. You wished you hadn't left him hanging after the kiss, but you were so shocked and didn't understand your feelings. You couldn't distinguish the attraction you felt for him from the fear of losing a friend. Well, you ended up losing him in the same way.
The twist in her routine came when a mysterious woman, dressed in vibrant colors, approached Y/N on an empty street. Her words, filled with urgency, revealed a dark fate for Coriolanus Snow. Y/N, initially skeptical, saw her disbelief fade away when the woman offered an object that provided disturbing glimpses of the future. It was something like two watches joined by a golden chain. As soon as she touched it, she saw everything. It wasn't possible to hear anything, but it wasn't necessary.
The projected scenes showed an unrecognizable Snow: kissing a girl through a cell, then with buzz cut hair shooting birds in a forest, and finally, with his blond hair combed back, looking at the rector's corpse with hatred. She wanted to vomit. She didn't want to believe. Y/N didn't doubt Snow's ability to be a jerk; it had happened several times with her already. But it usually involved some petty ego fight. He didn't seem like a murderer. Y/N felt a mixture of disgust and disbelief. The arrogant antagonist of her school life now seemed destined for a path of destruction.
"Y/N, I know you're a good girl; they told me you'll be of great help at the moment, and even if you doubt me, you'll try to help everyone. The next years will be dark, you wanted your opportunity, and I'm offering it. In a month, important things will start happening in the timeline, and at certain moments, your participation will be decisive. When those moments come, you must intervene and use your intellectual and emotional intelligence to prevent the country's destruction." When the woman finally paused, it seemed like her brain still hadn't grasped the words. Y/N didn't feel fear from her; it was more like affection and compassion.
"Don't give up on him, Y/N. You know him. Even if he seems cold on the outside, I'm telling you there's still hope in something inside him."
Everything happened so quickly; in the blink of an eye, you were sitting in the cafeteria before class started with your snack in front of you, and your friends were completely unaware of your tumultuous mental journey.
"What's happening to me? Am I feverish, hallucinating for the past few hours? Everything feels like a horrible dream." She wondered, trying to distinguish the line between reality and the nightmare she had just witnessed. Her breathing was hurried; she must have looked like a lunatic. The crazy scenes still played in her mind. She wished to know what would happen, and especially who the girl passionately kissing Snow was. It wasn't the most shocking scene she had seen, but it was the one that bothered her the most for some reason.
The responsibility to prevent Coriolanus Snow's dark fate now rested on Y/N's shoulders. She found herself torn between disbelief and the conviction that something needed to be done to avoid an impending tragedy. The challenge was daunting, and the idea of helping someone she despised caused a deep emotional turmoil.
While facing this dilemma, Y/N knew she couldn't ignore the call of destiny. The month leading up to the Plinth Award became a period of anguish, both mentally and emotionally, for the mission she was destined to fulfill. The game of enemies would transform into a complex dance of redemption and understanding, and Y/N was about to embark on a journey that would challenge not only her convictions but also the limits of destiny itself.
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Thanks for diving into this story with me! Hope you enjoy the ride as much as I enjoyed creating it. Stay for more twists and turns! Cheers! 📖✨
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trulyumai · 12 days
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Oh, Mr. Mosses (Series!) IV
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Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret  of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.
Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.
Author Note: Thank you everyone for enjoying the story, its honestly so fun to write I wish i could update even quicker! If it wasn't for uni i most likely would be. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!
Warnings: Blood, Obsessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death
Also available on AO3!
Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 (Let me know if you want to be added!)
Oh, Mr. Mosses IV
She felt awful, guilt struck through her bones like a heavy fog. The rain hadn’t stopped since the night before, the weather matched her dreary mood and she couldn't help but wither away in bed for most of the day, staring blankly at the popcorn-like ceiling. It would be her fault if someone were to die. She let him in, purposefully let the man walk in without a second thought or action. Frustrated, she grabbed the pillow beside her, throwing it across the room with a defeated huff. 
Her shift started tomorrow night, 5:00 on the dot. Grabbing the sides of her head she glanced toward the window, gray skies filled her vision before she threw herself back onto the duvet.
She saw him when she closed her eyes. That egotistical grin, those sharp teeth- the hands, how they planted themselves around her face like they belonged there. 
That day she uttered nothing to management, passed her employee with only a glance and hadn't been down since the incident. Had she even eaten? She couldn't remember, only lingering tastes of the metallic blood entered her taste buds, as if that monster's finger was still being forced down her throat. 
Holding back a gag she reached toward her nightstand, pulling out a pink and white pill case. Squinting at it she found two clear sleeping pills. 
“This should do the trick,” she mumbled, carelessly popping them in her mouth before hastily reaching for a bottle of water by her bedside. There was no way she could sleep on her own, at least not for tonight 
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Pillows were kicked and strewn about the floor, blankets were haphazardly beside her and hanging limply on the mattress. She didn't seem to notice the mess, with her arms by her sides and hair splayed out on the pillow, she snored lightly, blocking out the rain that beated across her window, blocking out the man who stood just above her side of the bed. Wide, black eyes stared down at her. Unblinking they shuffled closer, stepping over a pair of pink slippers thrown haphazardly on the floor. His grin took over most of his face, sharp teeth on display with red stains on his lips. He'd been busy since his arrival, picking apart her neighbor while she slept so soundly. So heavenly. He groaned, letting his blood covered fingers linger on her neck, before descending up towards her face. Pressing his fingers harder until little red dots were smudged across her cheeks. Mr. Capriannis’s blood. 
Cackling quietly to himself he bent down, just so his nose grazed hers. Lightly his warm breath dusted across her face, and even in her sleep she moved away from the man, groaning lightly as she turned her head to face the window. 
“I'll see you tonight, pretty girl,” if he wasn't so hungry, he would have decided to stay, maybe try to get in a few more touches. A few bites. But his urge to kill was getting overwhelming, he had to grind his teeth to stay focused. Light drops of blood began to seep from his mouth, his teeth had seemed to jabbed his lips from the harsh movements and it dribbled down, falling onto the unconscious girl below. The liquid plopped down on her neck, where it smeared and marked the area with its contrasting color. Deciding to leave it there he laughed once more. 
Maybe he’ll pay another neighbor a visit. 
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Francis slept terribly. This weather was downright awful, made his life a complete hell and who orders milk on days like this? Mumbling to himself he looked for his hat, it wasn't on its usual hook by the door, which he thought was quite strange. 
Sure, he came home later than usual, his bike route hindered by the many puddles in his path, but he always managed to stay tidy, stay neat. He looked everywhere! The hook, the closet, his bed, the little bathroom and even his poor excuse of a kitchen. It was completely gone and out of sight. Starting to panic he brushed his hair back with one hand, letting it linger while he tried to backtrack. Getting in the prior night he noticed the receptionist was off  of work already, he sighed at the other co worker before delving into the elevator. He knew he had his hat with him, and remembered bunching it up in worry over the little pretty receptionist. 
Frustrated enough, he grabbed his dress shoes. He supposed he would have to look once more after his route. 
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“There you are 29! Right on time, listen, the boss wants a double shift on schedule, I know it's a little sudden but who are we to say no, right?” The other coworker smiled, it was big, a fake facade made to comfort the already exhausted girl. 
She stood there, arms bunched at her sides as she picked at the sweater littering around her hands. 
“Yeah, I got the message about that this morning.” 
Walking past she slid her ID down the door, checking in for another shift. Waving at the fleeting man she closed the door, rubbing her hands after. It was obvious she was nervous, the backroom didn't feel safe anymore with that thing wandering around. Just before she clocked in she had scanned the building, looking, waiting to see if she saw anything out of the ordinary. 
She didn't. 
Saw nothing, heard nothing. The only thing she noticed was this god awful smell coming from the second floor. Mr. Capriannis must be attempting to make fish again. 
She decided to make a coffee and settle her nerves. Walking quickly she grabbed her favorite mug; a green ceramic cup with frogs all over the handle. 
It was then she noticed she didn't feel quite alone. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, she felt heavy and sweaty, and she could have sworn she kept seeing shadows move from the corner of her eyes. Tapping her fingers against her now filled mug she walked carefully to the desk, where the newly laid schedule stared back at her. 
Only Two people left to check in tonight 
She missed Francis.
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Reading through the forms she was sure to check it over at least three times each. Writing down the numbers just in case to ensure everyone's safety. 
Robertsky Peachman 114652289730 Checked in 7:23
-
Dr. W. Afton 250489656214 Checked in 7:45
-
Calling both lines, they were indeed not at the residency, so without pause she handled them separately, allowing them one at a time to step into the premise. 
Before Mr. Peachman left however, he eyed the woman as he bundled up his forms. 
“Oh my, what happened!” He exclaimed, pointing to the column of his throat.
“Your neck, dear, it's bleeding!” Reaching up she touched the base of her throat, her hands met a dry, patchy blotch along her skin. Removing her fingers, she realized he was right; dried blood laid on the tip of her index. 
Throat dry she attempted to lick her lips, thinking about what she did this morning to protrude such an injury.
“Here, here, use my napkin, it looks to be dried over,” With a helping hand he laid his handkerchief through the slot, giving the woman a smile. 
“I- thank you, Mr. Peachman. I don't even remember getting this,” Scratching it against the soft fiber it came off, however something looked… different. 
The blood was thick, almost a reddish black against the cotton. 
“You can keep it, just in case it reopens, I'll see you tomorrow evening little lady!”
With a toothy smile he was off, already pushing the third button on the elevator. 
Yawning, the receptionist began to organize the files around her; everything laid strewn about with her double and triple checking everyone’s forms. 
Knock. 
Knock. 
Knock. 
Halting her movements she tore her eyes away from the cabinet, to the window across. 
It was the employee, the one who had the shift right before her. His eyes were wide, full of anger and his movements were quick. He banged his fist beside the glass, letting out ragged, desperate breaths. 
“What the fuck, 29?!” 
Standing up she shuffled back, grazing her shoulders on the cabinets behind her. 
“I know what you did, you dumb bitch! I saw the footage!”
“28, Please I- I didn't know! I was just trying to-”
He banged his fist once more, “Im calling the D.D.D, They’ll dispose of both of your fucking asses!” Gripping the ID dangling from his neck he ripped it off, walking towards the door that separated them both. 
With quick and desperate movements she ran to the door, pushing the chain lock just across the wood  to halt the man. 
It slammed against the metal, she could see part of him through the slit left open. 
“Let me in! Don't mess this up 29, people will die!”“So I should just let you expose me? So can I be another body thrown in a bag?!” Beating harshly on the door she could see the chain was weakening. One more strong shove and he'd be through. And then what? She’d not only be out of a job, but a place to stay, and who knows if they would let her live after the mistake she made?
That's when she heard it, the slow, dramatic clapping of someone's hands. 
Craning her neck back as best as she could while still maintaining a grip on the door, she gasped audibly. 
There he was; the cause of all her problems. The milkman in disguise. 
“This has been quite entertaining sweetheart, but how much longer are you gonna keep this man around, huh?” Tilting his head to the side he let out a breath of air. 
“I could take care of him, you know. Save you the trouble,” Squinting his eyes he picked at his teeth, the sharp nails dug out chunks of flesh he flicked to the side. 
“No!” She seethed. 
“No one has to die.” Pushing her back against the door once more, she used as much strength she could possibly gather. 
“Aw,” He teased, shaking his head side to side, dragging his dried bloody finger on the wall. 
“You actually believe that, don't you sweet thing?”
Sweat began to build up on her forehead, running down in clear, sticky beads. 
She was going to die. If not by the thing in front of her, then the man busting through the door she was trying so hard to guard. 
Would it be so bad if she had his help? 
What on earth was she saying?! Of course it would be! 
The mimic stepped closer, just until his feet were planted in front of hers, looking straight down at her worried filled orbs. 
“Let me kill for you,” he begged.
Bending his knees he put his hands together, in a praying-like stance. 
“Please, let me help you.”
His eyes were warm somehow, his pupils seemed to be dilated, staring right up at the desperate woman. 
Feeling not only weak from holding the door, but to have this… creature beg to help her, she softened her hold. 
“Okay,” She whispered, staring right back at him as he slowly leaned his arm forward to grab her jaw.
He looked ecstatic, truly happy with her answer and- mesmerized? 
“Don't you worry bout a thing pretty girl,  I'll handle big bad 28 for you,”
Leaning closer once more, he let his face get merely inches from hers. The smell of iron hit her, it wafted across her face contaminating each breath she let in. 
“But you'll owe me one, got it?”
Dumbly nodding her head she relaxed her eyes, she was feeling awfully tired from everything. A wave of exhaustion hit her bones, numbing her mind as her vision began to blur. 
Before the darkness spread over her eyelids she thought of one thing.
A tired raven haired man with his little smile.
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viviuxd · 4 months
Text
INNOCENT LOVE:a viking fell in love with me!
SYPNOSIS: Given away by her father to one of the most feared Viking kings, she finds herself betrothed. However, the clash between their beliefs and traditions threatens to unravel the union before it even begins. PAIRING: Viking x Christian!reader.
TW:difference in spiritual beliefs, mention of polygamy and death.
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You inhaled deeply to calm your nerves, digging your nails into the delicate silk dress while observing the nearby door where your 'future husband' awaited. Truly, you had no intention of marrying him, and you would tell him so. You didn't care if rejecting him meant risking your life; you preferred that over marrying a pagan. You were well aware of Viking customs: they married many women, were cruel, killers, and worst of all, they worshipped pagan gods! You definitely couldn't be with someone like that.
Finally, you stopped walking alongside the guards, facing an immense wooden door. One guard effortlessly opened it, and for the first time, the other guard addressed you.
"Please, this way, miss. King Thorkell is waiting for you," he gestured with his hand for you to enter, offering a faint smile.
"Thank you, sir," you expressed your gratitude, delicately bowing your head to display your manners.
You sighed, closing your eyes, nervous. You walked slowly forward, feeling your legs tremble, your stomach churn, and a nauseating sensation. Upon lifting your gaze, a pang shot through your torso. The mighty King Thorkell stared at you intently, with a lethal gaze, as if he could see your sins. You swallowed hard and, with great effort, made a bow, inclining your body forward.
"King Thorkell."
°१९*०°
She entered the hall escorted by the guards I assigned and I noticed how her whole body trembled as she approached me. Her fear was evident, and I relished in her submission.
I knew she was Christian; they were very ignorant and weak in this world. I despised all those idiots, but the woman in front of me seemed different. Clearly, the ideals she sought in a partner were not ones I could offer, and her innocence was remarkable, her beautiful eyes looking at me with fear and obedience... she was so charming that I desired her for myself in that very moment.
"King Thorkell." I felt a tingling down my back as I heard her sweet voice. I cursed myself for summoning her so soon; I should have prepared for her.
°१९*०°
Your eyes fixated on his bulging muscles, evident even through his clothing. You swallowed hard, realizing the thoughts you had; a Viking could never interest you.
"The wedding will take place as soon as possible, so you shouldn't worry about that. From now on, you will reside in the palace, and a separate chamber will be assigned to you until you adapt. Do you understand, miss?"
You sensed his arrogance in his final words, and you clenched your fist a bit tighter. "How disrespectful," you muttered to yourself.
"King, if you allow me, I have something to say..." You wanted to clear your throat upon hearing your trembling voice. "Speak quickly, I don't have much time."
It was your first conversation, and you truly detested how he addressed you, but you chose to ignore it and demonstrate that you indeed had manners.
"I do not wish to marry you, Your Majesty."
At that moment, pride surged within you. Your words sounded so serious that you felt proud of yourself.
"I don't say it to offend you, only that it goes against my values to unite with..." You paused, carefully choosing your words to avoid upsetting him. "Someone like you."
You saw his jaw tense, and you took a step back when he rose from his throne and slowly walked towards you, his face filled with hatred. You stopped abruptly, colliding with a nearby column, finding yourself cornered by Thorkell.
He leaned towards you, the noticeable difference in height between you two, positioning himself right in front of your face, too close for comfort.
"Someone like me?" He murmured, his breath dangerously nearing you.
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maralarsen · 14 days
Text
He is my misfortune 🎀
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~Lorenzo Berkshire x reader~
WARNING: cursing
°Nepriateľ milovníkov°
Fluff
Summary : You unhappily end up tutoring a boy who brings you more misery than life itself
• |Reader is in Hufflepuff
• | I plan to make another part/parts. But I don't know if you will like this part, so I'll see 🎀
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Lorenzo Berkshire. A lot of people think of this name as a smiling face of a boy who is always positive, laughing and sometimes even kind. The only thing that comes to mind with this name is disaster. Everywhere he goes something always goes wrong. Either I'm unlucky with him or I really don't know anymore.
For example, my Hufflepuff friends and I were in Hogsmeade. It was cold, so we went to the Three Broomsticks to warm up like every student at Hogwarts. A pleasant atmosphere prevailed there, at least I felt pleasant until I saw his face. At that moment, I sighed and realized that another problem was on the way.
We sat down at the table next to his. And why ? The reason was clear. Berkshire wasn't sitting there alone, he was there with his crew. For my friends, it was literally a feast for their eyes. I don't understand what they like about guys who just drink, smoke and change girls like socks.
That's not my type at all. I'd rather have some nice boy who likes to cuddle, go on cute dates, buy me flowers and..."What the f*ck?!" I was snapped out of my reverie about a boy who might not even exist by the boy who was the most annoying to me. nerves. "Sh*t Berkshire watch out! Great, I'm all wet now," oh of course who else but Berkshire could have tripped over his own feet and spilled butterbeer on me. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, this really wasn't on purpose," Berkshire apologized with a smile on his face.
I heard how his friends started laughing in the back, especially Malfoy, another icon of the school. I wanted to cry. I don't understand why he always has to do this to me. "I said sorry, don't be so relational, it's just beer, it will dry out," I looked at him in disbelief.
"Yes, it will dry out. But it's your fault that it's wet!" I stood up and left the room. Why does he always have to do this to me? Fool. I got on the first carriage I saw and went back to the castle.
This happened about a month ago, I'm currently sitting in the library completing an assignment on herbology. I really don't enjoy this subject, but somehow I still manage it. Unlike Berkshire. Whatever he is, I feel sorry for him. He's been sitting here in the library since lunch, and I can see he's still doing the same thing, with a herbology book spread out in front of him.
During that time, I managed to make elixirs, astrology and now also herbology. Maybe I would help him, but that's what he needs. Unfortunately, the butter beer cannot be washed off. He's lucky he covered my old sweatshirt and not a new one.
Curfew is in a moment. I pack my things in my bag and I look at Berkshire, but he is already looking at me. Why is he looking at me? Better do your homework, moron. I smirk, take my bag and leave the library.
The next day I enter the greenhouses, as I expected, I had a good homework and so did the others except Berkshire. "Mr. Berkshire, I don't want to worry you, but you're failing Herbology," Mrs. Sprout said sternly. Berkshire didn't say anything, just stared blankly at the ground. "Are you going to do anything about it, Mr. Berkshire?" the teacher asked him. "
Well...I...I don't know..." Mrs. Spraut just sighed and announced: "Mr. Berkshire, I suggest that someone tutor you. He will tutor you for 3 weeks, 2 times a week. And I already know who ." She suddenly turned her gaze to me. Wait. NOT. He probably can't be serious. After all, one more moment in the same room with him, and that boy will set my hair on fire with his happiness.
"M...Mind..Mind me?" I stammered back to her. "Huh? Do you have a problem with that Mrs. (y/l/n)???" "Um, no?" I replied, more of a question than an answer, "excellent! You can leave at the end of class!"
What on earth did she dip it in, and why me? I ran out of the greenhouses into the corridor to make it to the next class. "Hey! Wait!" "oh god what do you want?" I turned to face Berkshire. "Wouldn't you like to go...ah!" I reached for his shirt and pulled him to the side "You were standing in way, Lorenzo," "Oh, thank you." So wouldn't you like to go for a beer with me? We could..." "No! There's no way I'm going anywhere with you anymore. The last time you had a beer in your hand, it ended on me. So no!" I said even before he could finish the sentence and I turned to leave "Jesus, you're terrible," he said with a laugh in his voice "but I still don't like you!" I said and went into the corridor.
As I expected, it happened. He chased me. "Why are you following me like a lost puppy?" "I was waiting for you to calm down," I looked at him in disbelief. "You're kidding, aren't you?!" "When was I kidding," he replied with a grin. I swear if that boy was closer I would slap him. "Oh well, well. So what do you want so urgently that you're chasing me," "I just wanted to ask about the date of the first meeting," he said quietly. "Why didn't you ask right away?"
"Because you didn't let me talk you into it?! Did you!?" that bastard... "When is convenient for you?" I asked him with a sigh. "Whenever you want, I can do it any time," "Then Wednesdays and Fridays. I want to have peace from you during the weekend," "Mrs. (y/l/n)'s order!" he turned and left. Oh god it's going to be a month.
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• | This is my second story so I apologize for any mistakes + English is not my first language ✨
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pookie-and-cereal · 5 months
Note
hii ^^ can i pls ask for some accidental love confessions prompts, im struggling w a wip rn and could rlly use the help. tyyy 🥹🫶🏻
My apologies kiddo. I barely check my messages. I am also a boomer in using Tumblr. Also I know these aren’t a lot. But I’m doing my best.
Accidental Love Confessions
"YOU DRIVE ME INSANE!" "I drive you insane? PUHLEEZ." "Yeah, you do. You and your little pretty bow." "What?" "Fuck."
"GOD YOU MAKE ME SO MAD! AND YOUR LIPS! THEY LOOK WAY TO PRETTY TO BE LONELY!" "I'm sorry what-?"
"You're pretty..." "What was that?" " I SAID YOUR PETTY!"
"I hate the way you summon butterflies in my stomach." "That's cute <3" "YOU HEARD NOTHING!" "Yes, I did"
"How can one be so pretty?" "You said you would never like me—" "Exactly. Because I love you" "You do?" "Yes. Wait— this isn’t a dream? Shit."
"I want a kiss." "I can fulfill that." "WAIT—"
"Let’s forget I said that!" "But you said your chest flutters when I’m around…" "YES. But—"
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cosmonabo · 2 months
Text
𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
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synopsis: The tale in which the honorable and once contemptible secretary of the student council ends up getting more involved than she would like with the respectful Mitsuya Takashi. But there's just one problem—he is part of the group of people the girl detests the most.
Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi + Fem!Reader.
Genders: Drama and tragedy, Angst, Comedy, Romeu and Juliet trope, (Predominantly) enemy to lovers.
Start Point [Next]
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"Have you heard? There's a guy looking for [Name]-Senpai!"
Three days. It had been exactly three days of hearing the same whispers through the school corridors, punishing her with indiscreet glances and barely suppressed suggestive tones. She felt flattered by this sudden wave of popularity that covered her like the cloak of a king - beautiful and relentless. However, the crown of her reign was starting to weigh on her head like lead.
Anyway, [Name] had no idea who this person was or what they wanted, and as much as it bothered her, she was far from taking any initiative to confront the situation.
She took the last sip of the orange juice from the tiny carton, promptly tossing the juice box into the trash can next to the table. The school was a war zone - club assistants coming and going at an absurd speed, even though she had made it clear that they should consult their respective advisers. But it wouldn't be a mere misunderstanding or more than one that would stop her from continuing with what she was doing. In no way, she continued cleaning the camera lens. The Nikon D3100 also known as the 'Starting Point for Imminent Discord' - a loving nickname given by some kind members of the Student Council.
Speaking of the Student Council… The Counselors' room generously offered its valuable space to store some of the materials crucial for the school newspaper - needless to say, most were against the idea, but given the situation the journalism club was in, all that remained was to accept without hesitation.
Point for the Journalism Club. (Yeah!)
However, unforeseen events could not be avoided. That being said...
"What the hell are these boxes doing in here?!" The strident voice crossed the room seconds after the door was opened, unfortunately, she knew the owner of the voice well enough to know that he wouldn't be pleased with the news. He already wasn't, apparently.
"Oh, Yuuma!" she greeted with a false air of friendliness, which didn't go unnoticed by the brunette, who furrowed his eyebrows. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"These boxes weren't here earlier today, what happened? No one informed me in advance."
"Look at that coincidence; I can relate quite well to your mood," she replied without looking away from what she was doing, but felt the annoyance manifesting on her colleague's face within seconds. "My freshmen informed me that the table we received arrived today, and we need to remove our materials from the club room. Isn't it hilarious?"
"And who's going to sort this out? You can't just leave this lying around without a plan!" he said as he navigated between the boxes, as if treading on a floor made of glass.
"Don't despair; some of my assistants will come later to sort this out," she shrugged.
"Okay, and what about you?"
"Me? What about me?" she blinked repeatedly, feigning innocence.
"Don't you have your own pending commitments, [Name]?"
The girl raised an eyebrow, then shifted her gaze to the camera in her hands.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, really?" he laughed sarcastically. "Because there are some well-informed girls outside looking for you. You should talk to them to refresh your memory."
'Every day is a lousy day to be in the student council'. She sighed.
"Tell them I had to leave, or... I don't know, make up something else. I'm busy," she finally said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and a yawn.
The guy felt a vein popping seeing the girl's nonchalance, but it quickly passed - much to [Name]'s surprise - and he soon returned to the door with his warmest smile.
"Of course she came!" [Name] widened her eyes, leaving her comfortable seat to press her fingertips into the arms of the well-padded chair. "Sorry for the delay, just a second."
He hissed a "Come here now!" with a nod and a scowl on his face. Frowning, she reluctantly snapped her camera shut and stowed it back in her bag, heading to the door with quick steps, hands tucked into the pockets of her college jacket. With her sweetest honey-eater smile, she declared:
"Contact the president, he knows what to do and can provide a copy of the notice board if you're interested," she warned, even before allowing the girls to take the initiative. Catching them off guard with her excessive, almost suffocating friendliness, she continued, "I can schedule a time or even—"
"No, it's not that!" Her harmonious smile felt a hiccup with the interruption. "We're looking for the chief editor, Kawaguchi [Name]-senpai!"
The short girl with glasses waved repeatedly, carried away by nervousness, while her short-haired companion nodded and patted her shoulder as encouragement.
"Yes, yes, we need to talk to you about the retrospective fair. We already have an idea to document the club events!" the short-haired one said, proud and exuding confidence.
"Retrospective fair...?" she pondered, scratching her neck in search of an answer. Then, an embarrassing memory about the club's proposal to the council for an event to conclude another school year by documenting extracurricular activities came to mind. This proposal seemed intentionally shooting oneself in the foot, aware of the consequences. "Oh, yes, I remember that well. You could have contacted the other secretary."
"We came to you because you're the chief editor. Is there anyone who understands your project better than you?" she asked.
'A valid point, but let's ignore that for now just to mask my disinterest,' she thought.
"And also..." the girl with glasses began quietly, "we want you to confirm our idea to make sure it won't be plagiarized or something. I-I'm not accusing any other club; I just..."
"I think I understand what you're trying to say," she waved her hand calmly, calming the exasperated girl. With not much else to do, she glanced briefly back at the table inside the room, only to have the displeasure of finding Yuuma comfortably leaning on one of the chairs, helping himself to a disposable cup of coffee. What a nerve!
She internally sighed, finding it hard to maintain the facade of a good Samaritan near the freshmen for such a significant amount of time.
She cleared her throat, dispelling the reveries and the bitter voice that had been stuck in her throat.
"I'm a bit busy taking care of some things right now. If you don't mind... Can you ask your representative to meet me during the last periods of class?" she asked, gentle but firm, with the patience of a saint. "I have a hectic routine, and I don't have the whole day." She pretended, but it didn't take long for her to resume her usual tone, with a suspicious itch in her mind. "By the way, who is your representative?"
"He's the leader of the Home Economics Club!" the short-haired one replied almost immediately.
"Alright, I think that information will be enough," she smiled, pleased with the information. 'Let's see, my good sir, what kind of person you'll be?' she thought in a mischievous tone. The smile might have gone unnoticed by the girls, but the way her lips curved suspiciously amused didn't escape the notice of the veteran still in the room. "Well, now I'll be finished my works. It was nice talking to you."
"Thank you, [Name]-Senpai!" they said their goodbyes with waves and wide, warm, and enthusiastic smiles.
"Bye-bye~" she said slowly, with a low wave, then disappeared with the loud bang of the door as the two freshmen walked away in the long school corridor. "Well, back to what matters..."
"What do you think you're doing? You have work to do!"
He watched incredulously as the girl circled the table completely devoid of her previous persona. If he didn't know her habits, would never believe she was the same person from a few seconds ago.
"Okay, and so what?" she asked, dismissing it.
"You can't just wander around like this!" he complained, frustrated with the secretary's indifference.
"I'll send someone in my place," she said, glancing away to the disorganized papers outside the folder, picking them up one by one. "Besides, it's not even your problem. I don't know why you bother so much."
"I don't want you tarnishing our reputation," he replied bluntly, pouring more coffee into his cup. "I work hard to give the impression that I do anything, unlike someone like you."
"Why all this disdain in your voice?" she suppressed a humorless laugh with the back of her hand.
"Even so!" he quickly changed the subject. "You don't even know what he wants. You can't just send someone in your place, or it'll be an endless game of indirect messages!"
"The messenger boys are precisely for that. I don't mind sending my assistant if necessary," she shrugged, impassive. "And we can always resort to bribery. Or blackmail."
"What a great example you set. If all honor students were like you, schools would be a perfect illustration of how the Cold War happened," he retorted.
"Come on, don't you have anything better to do?" she raised an eyebrow, annoyed.
"Besides scolding you? No."
"If that's the case, you could go in my place, since you're so idle," she prodded.
"No way."
"Really? What kind of honor student are you?" she asked, feigning hurt.
"Get real."
She grumbled discontentedly, almost offended, as she sighed in deep resignation.
"So, I'm out."
"Wait, are you serious?"
He looked at her in disbelief, but the girl maintained a serious expression focused on the materials she was storing in her bag. Almost professional - Yuuma dared to say.
"Meanwhile, wait. Some of my freshmen will come to clean up this mess," she said calmly and steadily, unlike her usual self. He knew her personality was challenging, but even the few times he saw her like this, he knew she was putting effort into with something in mind. "I'll talk to Mizushima; he needed to edit the material."
And she left, giving one last look at the guy in the room, Yuuma, he was shocked and wide-eyed like saucers.
'Your coffee is getting cold.' She said and indeed, the coffee had been cold for a while.
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Almost 4:30 PM. Most students were putting away their shoes and belongings, ready to head out, finding their groups of friends for a leisurely walk home. However, [Name] was reviewing her homework, oblivious to the hurried steps and the commotion outside the school.
A waste of time and energy. Just carefree people spending their youth on fruitless things.
"Aren't you going home, [Name]? You're usually one of the first to leave," the vice-president asked, her gaze somewhat concerned as she rubbed her forearm, apprehensive.
It was noticeable that her side bag hung on her shoulder, and the usual animal-themed folder from some TV program was absent from the grip of her arms. She was leaving too.
"Sorry to be insinuating, Suzume, but... was that a criticism?" she asked, giving her a suggestive, meticulous look.
"No, not at all! I just thought something might be wrong," she mumbled, lowering her gaze to her shoes. Disconcerted.
'Spare me your concern - your pity'. She almost rolled her eyes. 'I don't need this.'
"No, it's okay," she sighed, lowering her eyes to the newly completely filled sheet. "I promised to wait for someone here after class, but I'll lock the door when I leave, if that's what worries you."
"That's a relief, thank you!" she said, clasping her hands, releasing a sigh filled with laziness and serenity. "Since everything is fine, I'll be going. See you tomorrow!"
She waved enthusiastically, leaving and closing the door slowly. She mimicked the gesture but lacked the Suzume's enthusiasm.
The room lacked its absolute silence when a faint knock sounded, several minutes after the vice-president left. Lazily, she murmured a "come in" the sound of her voice as she uttered the word was so low and weak that it would have been a frivolous action if not for the silence - disturbing.
Soon, the sound of the door slowly opening filled the quiet atmosphere. Not that she would openly comment on it, but for God's sake, someone urgently needed to put some lubricating oil on that door! That screeching noise was ear-piercing. Setting aside the thought, she raised her eyes from the homework notebook. Shamelessly giving a good look at the person - read: 'Troublemaker' - in an attempt to find out more about that... extravagant figure from the neighborhood.
'Eyebrow cuts and an earring... Let me guess, you have a tattoo? If so, where? - Maybe I can report him to the administration for breaking some dress code.' She thought to herself.
"You can sit there if you want," she indicated the front chair, adjusting her posture in the seat.
"No, thank you. I don't plan on taking much of your time," he politely declined, a small smile forming on his lips, convincing. "But I appreciate the gesture."
Muttered a prolonged "Hmm," almost judgmental. But she corrected that attitude with a light and casual smile.
"All right, let's get going then," she whistled in understanding, pulling out some newly acquired papers from the folder that until recently was an irrelevant item on the table. 'Here's my trump card.' "Takashi Mitsuya-san, correct?"
From the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his eyebrows - or what was left of them - in surprise. Without giving any cues to the subject, she continued:
"The leader of the Home Economics Club, and..." she put her index finger on her lips, making a dramatic and unnecessary pause.
"Did the girls tell you that?" he asked intrigued, but [Name] noticed how his shoulders relaxed with the mere possibility.
"Indeed, yes. But I have my sources," she shrugged, and for a moment, the boy felt insulted by the secretary's intrusion, but only a little. "Don't worry, I didn't see anything too personal. I just took a peek at your academic record."
"Isn't that an invasion of privacy?"
She almost wanted to laugh.
"Please, I'm part of the Student Council; invading other people's personal space is precisely my job," she mocked, as if it were obvious. "Besides, as the president says: 'It's all for a good cause.'"
She threw her forearm over the chair, turning a bit to face the figure standing a few steps from the door.
"But, putting the conversation aside, what do you want, really?" she finally asked. "forgive me, we lost track of the subject."
She could swear she saw him offer a brief prayer before responding.
"A portfolio."
Extending with one hand the authorization form that the secretary had assigned to the club representatives, lacking only the signature of a Student Council member.
"Excuse me?" Now she was genuinely confused, for the first time that day.
"I need your signature," he said straightforwardly, "right here."
"I can read," she grumbled, pulling the sheet from the guy's delicate hands to read it carefully, while he stared back at her with his dead-fish eyes (courtesy of the secretary's nickname).
"I can see," he teased, putting the playful banter aside, clearing his throat before continuing his speech. "As you can see, all the club members agree with the idea. We just need approval."
"What are you trying to saying?" She had to pretend not to be surprised by the information.
"That you are promoting the project," he deduced, making her widen her eyes with the irritatingly accurate accusation.
She gave a humorless laugh, almost as if she were raising a white flag of surrender. 'Looks like you got me.'
This is what happens when you work in the advertising field. Damn!
"All right, it seems there's nowhere to escape now," she admitted, looking away to the table, crossing her legs with a vacant look wandering around. "But... What makes you think I'll accept something like this? The school can't finance the materials, and don't even think the photography club will lend their things. If you want, you can talk to our treasurer, but I warn you they'll prefer to stick to the traditional yearbook."
"The project was independent from the beginning; the school won't spend anything on any of the other projects, and you know that," he pointed out. His patience was wearing thin. "Besides, some of the school's assets can be used by students; providing assistance during the project is a school obligation."
He's right again. So right it's annoying.
She took a deep breath without any shame before facing him with one of her smug smiles. Malicious, unfair.
"And what do I gain from this?" she sounded arrogant, almost a threat to the ears of others, resting her hand on her chin, seeking some composure after being unmasked, stripped, with her selfish exploits exposed.
Takashi looked at her with wide-open eyes, or maybe shocked?
"Let's suppose that, by chance, I help you... Do you know the precious time I'll lose providing assistance on your project? The newspaper won't write itself. As the president of the school newspaper, I say that this won't progress, and we'll all be disappointed in the end."
Spoke with her eyes fixed on the clear orbs of the delinquent.
"We can't abandon our priorities; I advise you to give up." She finalized.
"Since I came this far, I don't think giving up is an option," he countered. "And trust me, i can be persistent when I want."
"What do you plan? Remember that organizing something without the Student Council's authorization is equivalent to breaking the rules," she stood up, staring deep into his eyes. "But that doesn't affect you, does it? As a delinquent, you must be used to breaking the rules."
She practically spat out the word "delinquent."
"You really delved into my record, Secretary," he teased carelessly.
"As I said, and I'll repeat: it's part of my job."
"Is it also part of your job to dismiss any idea that doesn't suit you?" he raised an eyebrow with a small mocking smile. "Your attitude is a bit tyrannical, don't you agree, [Name]-san?"
He said, displaying his indifference, shifting to a sarcastic, almost mocking tone.
'This delinquent is laughing, laughing at me!'
'This can't happen, I can't allow this to happen!'
If one could describe the scene, it would be Takashi smiling while taking a selfie in front of a volcano erupting. Because one could never accurately describe with words how irritated - or offended? Or maybe both? - the girl was.
He was a bit surprised when he saw her lower her head, biting her lower lip. For a moment, he thought she was crying when he heard a low grumble. That's when she approached, marching in her shiny shoes, fists buried in the jacket pockets. With the look of someone about to commit an atrocity.
And she kept advancing. And advancing. To the point where he had to step back, only to hit the back against the corridor wall, realizing he had retreated all the way from inside the room to the corridor.
He was snapped out of his light reverie when he felt something hit violently against the wall. That's when he saw the secretary's shoe stuck in the wall, at the curve of his waist. Shocked, he couldn't help the surprise on his face. He wouldn't be the least bit surprised if she decided to punch him.
That's when she decided to break the silence:
"Exactly," she said, at a dangerous distance, blocking the delinquent's passage with her right leg. Takashi swallowed hard, staring back at her. "And what are you going to do about it, Sir?"
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arthoeacademia · 1 year
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i plant roots so deeply in the people i love that i always lose a piece of myself when they go.
—Beau Taplin
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claumonkey · 4 months
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They don't know yet, but they do feel
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green-mochi-blog · 1 year
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Unredeemable villain who is madly in love with the hero and kind of obsesses with them + Tired hero who was neglected by the people they were supposed to save and isn't quite sure about their relationship with the villain but they are the only person who showed them any kind of love, even if it's twisted, so they are willing to accept it
Is this too specific? Is there any kind of book or story with this type of relationship? I really need to know
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moliathh · 10 months
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what if author kept their old design from the prototype mangas, just saying (integra from Hi and Low, alucard from The legend of vampire hunter)
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poisonlove · 7 months
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i hate you!¹
I still hate you… but less.
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4:35 PM
It was only 4:35 PM when the principal's verdict had hit us like a bolt from the blue. After the heated argument with the unbearable Jenna Ortega, we were forced to stay at school for an extra two hours. But the worst part? It wasn't just for one day; it was for an entire week.
"I want to die," I sighed. My elbow rested on the desk, my head propped up by my hand as I watched the clock tick away the time.
Our Science teacher shot us a stern look. "Absolute silence, please. I'll be back at the end of detention," he warned, making it clear that any infractions would lead to further penalties. "If you attempt to escape, the detention will be extended by a week, and if you argue, another hour... understood?"
"Mmm-hmm," I muttered with boredom, rolling my eyes in annoyance.
"Miss Ortega, did you understand?" the teacher turned his attention to the source of my frustration.
Jenna was sitting three desks away, her back against the wall, and from my vantage point, I could only see her profile. Ortega had her legs up on the table and earphones in her ears. It was as if she had erected an invisible wall between us, a clear sign of our tension.
"Ortega!" the teacher scolded with annoyance.
Jenna removed her earphones. "Yes, I understood," she replied through gritted teeth, clearly fed up.
"And remove your feet from the table," the teacher added with exasperation.
Jenna complied, and the teacher gave us one final glance before leaving the room.
I decided to pass the time by pulling out my notebook from my backpack, along with a pencil, and started drawing whatever came to mind. The punishment felt endless, and I needed something to distract myself.
As I drew, I scrutinized Jenna's profile more closely. She was clearly ignoring me, with earphones in her ears and a body posture that sent a clear message: she didn't want to talk at all.
My attention focused on her face, noting her upturned nose, heart-shaped lips, and slightly hollowed cheeks. But what struck me the most were her eyes. They were a deep brown, with long lashes framing them perfectly. They were physically flawless, and they captured the attention of anyone who gazed upon them.
My pencil began moving on the paper almost instinctively, creating lines and shadows that took shape. The graphite flowed on the page, delineating every detail of her brown eyes. Each individual eyelash seemed to come to life, capturing the imaginary light reflecting in her real eyes. It was as if I was trying to capture not only the physical appearance of her eyes but also the essence of what they might hide behind that distant expression.
I stuck out my tongue with a slight smile as I continued to draw, this time focusing on Jenna's eyebrows. She raised an eyebrow with confusion and shot me a glare, clearly feeling my gaze on her.
I increased the pressure on the pencil, creating heavy and precise lines as I outlined the curves of Jenna's eyebrows.
"What a pain," Jenna muttered and then stretched, yawning slightly.
In that motion, she lifted her hoodie slightly, revealing her perfectly flat stomach. I felt a bit embarrassed and quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks flushed, continuing to draw while only looking at my notebook. I had gotten the sketch I wanted, and now I wanted to fully concentrate on my work, trying to ignore the distractions around me. The tension between us was still palpable, but at least my drawing was taking shape as I desired.
This bitch has some nice facial features, despite being so insufferable I thought with a wry smile.
Her beauty was undeniable, even though her attitude was anything but amiable. It was a contradictory thought, but at least it helped me focus on my work and set aside the tensions.
"I must say I was wrong; you don't draw that badly," a voice murmured beside me.
"What do you want, Ortega?" I asked with a sigh, not in the mood for an argument.
Jenna had placed her hands on my desk, her head close to mine as she closely examined the contents of my notebook. Her breath was very close to my ear, her hair gracefully falling over her shoulders.
"Nothing from you, just the least I can do is see how you draw, considering that my eyes are on that notebook," she confessed in a bored tone.
The desire to draw faded.
Jenna, with a quick movement, sat in the desk next to mine. "Not drawing anymore?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"No, I feel a terrible presence by my side... very annoying, I must say," I muttered with faux irony.
Jenna burst into laughter.
"I don't understand why you've become so unbearable, you know?" I asked sincerely. "I remember that we were very close friends as children," I mumbled distractedly, smiling at the memory.
Flashback:
I was a little child using colored pencils, trying my best to color a car printed on a piece of paper.
"Wow, you're really amazing!" a voice came from my right, and I smiled when I saw a girl looking at my drawing.
That girl was completely covered in marker stains and seemed quite clumsy. "Can you teach me?" she asked with bright eyes. "Of course," I muttered absentmindedly, and the girl sat down next to me.
"I'm Jenna," the girl said with a big smile. "Y/N," I returned the smile. "I'm sure you and I will become great friends," she confessed, clumsily coloring the sheet.
"The best!" she added quickly, sticking out her tongue and running it over her lower lip.
"We're friends because I'm helping you draw?" I asked, intrigued and a bit confused.
She tilted her head to the side, looking at me curiously. "Isn't that what friends do?" she innocently asked.
End of the flashback.
The reminiscence of those happy moments with Jenna filled me with warmth, but at the same time, it made me feel the sadness of time passed and friendships lost. It was a missing puzzle piece that I had forgotten, and now I held it in my hands, hoping it could help resolve the current situation between us.
Jenna's fingers snapped in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Everything okay, weirdo?" she asked with a small smile.
"Yeah, pain in the neck," I muttered absentmindedly.
"Ugh... what can I say? Those were good times," she smiled, eliciting a faint smile from me.
"Do you remember the times we used to play Romeo and Juliet?" Jenna asked with a smile on her lips.
I chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? You dressed me up as a prince and said we had to get married," I confessed, making Jenna blush.
"And that time I broke my arm falling from the tree?" she asked, amused.
"I'm sorry about that, it's my fault the ball ended up there," I admitted, remembering the moment when Jenna had tried to catch the ball thrown too high, ending up falling and breaking her arm.
"We were friends... for how long? 7 years?" I asked uncertainly.
"7 years and 4 months," Jenna murmured, surprising me.
"Can you explain why you've become like this?" I asked curiously.
Her smile faded. She crossed her arms around herself, almost embarrassed. "Do you really not remember?" she asked in a whisper.
I raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"No," I honestly replied.
"And if I tell you... 'monkey arms'?" she asked, making a grimace.
I widened my eyes in realization.
I couldn't believe it... Jenna had become so unbearable because of a comment I made when we were 12 years old. We were in the gym, ready for our physical education class.
"Hey, Jen," I called my best friend.
Jenna turned toward my direction, looking at me with a smile on her face and bright eyes.
"Tell me," she asked, adjusting her short-sleeved shirt.
"Have you heard the new song 'Dance Monkey'?" I asked, barely holding back my laughter.
"Yes?" she asked unsurely.
"With those arms, it's definitely your song," I exclaimed, making the girls in the locker room burst into laughter.
I was clearly joking. But Jenna looked at me with flushed cheeks and teary eyes, grabbed her hoodie, and rushed out of the locker room. That moment of light teasing had a much deeper impact than I could have ever imagined.
"Oh, crap," I looked at Jenna with wide eyes, incredulous.
"You made my life impossible because of a comment from when we were kids?" I asked, unable to believe it.
Jenna shrugged without thinking, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Because of you, I'm still afraid to wear short sleeves," she confessed.
I analyzed her outfit again: an oversized hoodie that completely covered her arms.
"Damn... Jen, I was just joking! I didn't mean to cause all this drama," I muttered absentmindedly, taking her hand to uncover her arm.
"What are you doing?" she asked in panic.
"Showing that you look amazing regardless," I muttered absentmindedly, trying to address her insecurities.
Jenna blushed, and she seemed almost on the verge of a panic attack. "See?" I asked with a nervous smile.
I ran my fingers along her arm, feeling like a complete idiot for making this girl feel bad for years. I had never thought that such a joke could ruin a friendship.
Jenna broke free from my grasp and got up from the desk, seeing that the science teacher had returned to the classroom, ending our punishment.
"See you tomorrow, loser," Jenna muttered, a small smile on her lips.
In the end, now I knew why Jenna detested me so much. In the end, the responsible, clueless idiot was just me.
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jovialmoonprincess · 4 months
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AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 5)
The Storm Within
Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 
First Part. / The Winter Ball / Champagne Problems / Frost and Thorns / The Storm Within
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Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.
Warning(s): None, enemy to lovers, back in time, destiny, Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
A/N: I'm on Wattpad now too, click here to read and vote there: WATTPAD
Y/N was furious; each accelerated beat of her heart echoed her indignation. The news of betting on tributes, Arachne being beheaded on camera, the snakebites on Clemensia, and the final blow was the information that they had bombed the arena with Coriolanus inside. Determined to confront Coriolanus, she relentlessly sought him, even reaching the boy's apartment, a place she had never visited before.
The boy opened the door with wet hair, his chest still exposed with bandages. Y/N couldn't help but notice, especially because Snow was much taller than her. His hair dripped, and droplets ran down his torso. She couldn't help but notice his imposing height and the sight of his wet body. That only made her angrier because, despite everything, he still exerted some kind of attraction over her.
"I've been looking for you," Y/N exclaimed, her voice laden with anger.
"I just came back from the hospital, I'm alive," Coriolanus spoke as if everything were under control, trying to maintain composure but failing to completely hide his anxiety. "I'm getting ready to see Lucy Gray shortly. If you could excuse me…" He was about to close the door when Y/N stopped him, entering his apartment.
Without hesitation, Y/N lunged at Coriolanus, her weak blows against his chest unable to affect the boy but revealing the intensity of her frustration. His warm skin matched Y/N's fury.
"You idiot!" Tears glistened in her eyes. "I can't believe you have the nerve to tell me this! Arachne is dead, Clemensia is poisoned, and when I saw the explosion live, I thought the worst had happened. And you dare to keep thinking about the games? You have no soul?" She was furious with the boy. "Why do you still participate in this?" Y/N demanded, her voice laden with disappointment.
Coriolanus laughed in denial, spitting out words full of resentment. "Y/N, I'm not Sejanus, okay? I know you wanted me to be, and I would too, but I'm not. Arachne is dead, Clemensia is poisoned, and Lucy Gray… well, that's another horrible story. I doubt she'll make it to the Games, and maybe it's even better."
"I don't want you to be like him, Coriolanus. In fact, I don't know why you have this fixation on the boy. He's lost, he's afraid just like you."
"If you came here to talk about him, Y/N, you can leave." He pointed to the door.
"You need to get over this one-sided rivalry with him, Coriolanus."
"Sejanus usurped my position, inheritance, clothes, food, and the privilege due to a Snow. Now he's trying to take my apartment, my place at the University, my own future, and had the audacity to resent his luck in getting the best tribute. I even believe he wants to date you." This thought he had never shared with anyone. It was very intimate.
Y/N was astounded, shocked by the information spilled by the boy. Despite having the height and appearance of a man, he had feelings as petty and low as a child.
"Corio, I know you've never shared this with anyone. But these thoughts and this anxiety don't suit you. I won't judge how you feel, but I want to reassure you that these feelings are unfounded. You need to think better, calmly. About what is real or not."
"Stop with the therapy, Y/N. You're making me feel like garbage." The boy tried in every way to avoid the girl's gaze.
"Maybe because you're acting like a jerk."
"You just assaulted me, came to my house to hit me, and you're still offending me with words. I could call the police." My God, this boy was 10 years old.
"Darling, I used all my strength, and you didn't even feel it." He laughed for a moment, but soon his serious demeanor returned. "If I wanted something with Sejanus, I would have had it already. Also, because I'm single." She spoke sincerely, showing her hand with no ring. "But I don't like him that way." The girl approached him.
"Don't go, I don't know what to do for you not to go." She felt a tightness in her chest, and tears returned to illuminate her eyes. "You can't win the Games, Coriolanus. You can't."
He was afraid, didn't know who he could trust. He could have been stung if Clemensia had written the proposal in his place, and if Lucy Gray hadn't come back to help, he would have died in the arena fire. He hid his head in his hands, confused, angry, and, more than anything, afraid. Afraid of Dr. Gaul. Afraid of the Capitol. Afraid of everything. If the people who should protect him played so easily with his life, how was it possible to survive? Not by trusting them, that was for sure. And if you couldn't trust them, who could you trust? Impossible to know.
"Don't you see, Y/N? Lucy Gray saved my life, and I need to help her win. She needs me. My family needs me. This is an opportunity for us, a chance to get out of this difficult life. I can't ignore that." For the first time, real emotions appeared on Coriolanus's face, as if he were, indeed, fearing the consequences of his actions.
Coriolanus ran his hand through his blond hair, frustrated. "I can't change the system alone. But maybe, if I'm in there, close to the power, I can make a difference. I can change things."
"Promise me that when you win the games, you'll protect Sejanus. Please. Promise me."
The boy was confused; what did Sejanus have to do with the story?
"It seems like you're sure I'm going to win the games," he said irritably. "Because you're so concerned about Sejanus? Doesn't my life matter?" It was never about him, Coryo.
"The problem, Coryo, is that you were the only person who appeared in all the visions, alive, well. Not Sejanus, not me, not even Lucy Gray. It was never about Sejanus, it was about you. I don't want you to become someone despicable." Y/N thought.
"I trust in your ability to survive; you're a Snow above all else. Sejanus is your friend; there has never been a reason to worry about him. Don't think of him as your rival; think of him as a loyal friend." Y/N was so close to the boy she could smell the roses and mint from his toothpaste. "I don't want to lose you, Coryo." She rested her forehead against his. "It's not about Sejanus; it's about you. It has always been about you." Her lips touched his. This kiss was more urgent, like a last kiss. It seemed that both would waste time if they stopped to breathe. Coryo's large hands guided the kiss, and their bodies pressed together as if struggling to be in the same place. Y/N placed her hands on the boy's bare chest and could feel his heart beating at an impossible speed. She didn't want to stop the kiss, didn't want to leave, didn't want to let him go. She wanted to keep him there forever. With her.
Coryo gradually guided Y/N to the sofa, lying on top of her. The kiss was more than just a meeting of lips; it was a fusion of souls, a desperate search for comfort amid the chaos. He didn't intend to do anything beyond the kiss, but he wanted more and more. The girl messed up Coryo's hair with her fingers and made sounds of approval during the kiss. It was as if the two of them fit together like two pieces in a puzzle.
Y/N's body was on fire. Coryo didn't even remember there was a war outside. He could only think about how small and defenseless the girl seemed in his arms, completely surrendered to him.
"You're mine," he whispered in her ear, making her whole body shiver.
"Come back to me, Coryo. Fight, struggle, but in the end, come back to me."
With another kiss, Coriolanus silenced Y/N, and after a few seconds, they separated. Y/N returned to her apartment, hoping that her words and the heat of the moment had touched Coriolanus, prompting a profound reflection on his actions and choices.
_____________________________
Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes and comments on my story. <3
THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER
Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts @commanderfreethatdust @glxzillx
TAGLIST AND REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!
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crowleysgirl56 · 9 days
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Ok, hear me out: Good Omens Human AU: WWE professional wrestling.
Has anyone done this yet? Ok, here is my stream of consciousness:
I imagine Crowley to be the high flying, heartbreaking, stunt type character. Like a Jeff or Matt Hardy, or a Shaun Michaels. He’d be the young newcomer breaking out into the business, gaining massive popularity, adored by the fans and potentially the new face of the business.
Aziraphale would be a more established, professional, and experienced performer. He’d been old school, like a pure striker, but also maybe slightly flamboyant like a Ric Flair or Dusty Rhodes. He’d be initially skeptical of Crowley’s character and disapprove of the suggested changes to the business. He doesn’t want to move with the times and stuck in his golden era ways.
Plot points:
Enemy to lovers - Aziraphale would be annoyed with the idea of Crowley being “the new guy” not playing by the rules, but over time comes to appreciate what he can bring to the business and also admire his immense talent. Crowley would be annoyed with an “old” fuddy duddy unwilling to move with the times or diversify for the sake of the business, but comes to appreciate Aziraphale’s experience and encouragement and what he can learn from him.
Road to Wrestlemania - obviously they’d have to face off in the main event as their characters would continue to be sworn enemies.
Secret relationship - this would develop and deepen over time, and they would be terrified of it being revealed and breaking kayfabe. How could they possibly overcome the media and scrutiny. Possible themes of homophobia could be explored.
Alliances - Crowley would probably be part of some sort of team dynamic involving Beelzebub and maybe Shax and Dagon. Some kind of demonic themed characters.
Overcoming injury - Crowley might suffer a possible career ending injury, either sustained through interference from another jealous wrestler (Gabriel or Hastur?), or protecting Aziraphale from a dangerous move, or from Aziraphale failing to perform a choreographed stunt correctly. Each possibility would lead the subtext of the story in three different directions so not sure which would be best?
Bittersweet ending? - I imagine that either they would get to maintain their relationship but one or both their careers would end. Or they would keep their careers in tact but the relationship would end.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. Am I insane? (Probably)
(Was inspired because Wrestlemania was on the weekend and I apparently cannot separate Good Omens from any other aspect of my life now 🤣)
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viviuxd · 4 months
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INNOCENT LOVE : a viking is in love with me! (Part 2)
SYPNOSIS:You are explaining to the Viking king why you cannot marry him, while you do so he agrees to join your belief and leave his gods, just for you.
PAIRING:Viking x Christian!reader
TW:mention of difference in spiritual beliefs.
Part 1
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"What are you doing?!" You shouted angrily. Your hands instantly landed on his chest, pushing him back as you averted your gaze, noticing some servants present. You felt embarrassed for exposing your life in front of those people and hid your face, looking down.
Thorkell noticed your sudden change in attitude and chuckled playfully at your shyness. He turned toward your gaze and realized what was happening. He smiled mischievously and stood tall.
"Everyone, out! Our queen needs privacy," he demanded with a deep, powerful voice that echoed in the room.
You watched as everyone present left immediately, almost running. "I am not your queen," you murmured, glancing at him sideways.
"Soon you will be," he affirmed, grabbing your wrist with a firm grip that hurt you a little due to the force he exerted.
They took a few steps until they reached the throne. He let go of your wrist and turned on his axis to stare at you. He examined you with his eyes and then nodded toward the throne where he had been moments ago.
"Sit there," he demanded with the same dominant voice that sent shivers down your spine.
You were about to refuse. You didn't want to give hope that you'd accept, but neither could you decline; you didn't want to be disrespectful. Besides, Thorkell's gaze intimidated you. You were sure you'd have nightmares about him that night.
You climbed the steps leading to the throne. It was huge, imposing, and beautiful, just like Thorkell. You sat on it; it felt strange. You had always dreamed of being the queen of a nation, and now you had the opportunity, but you felt bad for disobeying God's commands.
You shook your head and clumsily got off the throne, embarrassed by what you had just done.
"I can't, I can't be the queen of Dantohira, Your Majesty," you apologized insistently, looking down in a gesture of submission and respect so that Thorkell wouldn't take it as an offense.
"Damn it!... Could you explain why you're forbidden to marry me?" He grunted angrily, one of his hands resting on his head, rubbing his temple.
You played with your hair, trying to calm your nerves a bit. "We're different... You believe in pagan gods, and don't take it the wrong way, Your Majesty," you said. "It's just that I am faithful to my God, my Lord, and I know that it won't please Him for me to join someone who doesn't love Him. Besides other differences..."
"Name them," he replied sharply, staring at you intently.
You sighed nervously, still not ready to have a discussion with the King. "I don't like your customs... I wouldn't like to marry a man who has several women, or a bloodthirsty man. I'd be in constant fear."
Thorkell approached you, this time respecting your space.
"You'll be the only one. I'll never look at other women, and if I do, I promise to gouge out both my eyes."
You chuckled a bit, charmed by what he had just said.
"That would be very nice, but... even so, you would still worship other gods," you looked at him sadly, noticing his attempt to maintain the marriage proposal.
"I'm not asking you to give up what you do for me-" You were interrupted by Thorkell's sudden action.
Thorkell turned around, leaning on the royal throne, grunting.
"Teach me about your God," he grumbled.
°१९*०°
"Then are you going to become a Christian now or something? I never imagined you doing something like this for someone, Thorkell." Tyr, Thorkell's younger brother, mocked him and his infatuation with you.
"Shut the damn mouth, Tyr," Thorkell growled, fed up with his brother's mockery.
"Brother, understand me, you've never been interested in a woman, and now you're doing these stupid things for a Christian girl. I'm starting to think she's a witch or something," he joked again, bursting into loud laughter.
"Anyway, that girl is quite pretty, I don't believe she's still a virgin... surely she's already slept with some lad over there," mentioned one of the guards who was close to Tyr. He was about to burst into loud laughter until Thorkell punched him, causing him to fall to the ground.
"Don't you dare talk nonsense about her, you useless," Thorkell growled as he kicked the guard's face forcefully.
"If she comes out of your mouth again, I'll knock out all your teeth, got it?"
Tyr grabbed Thorkell to prevent more blows, smirked mockingly, and looked at Thorkell.
"You see what I mean? You're more aggressive than usual, and it's because of that girl."
"Thorkell, you're in love with her."
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