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yuwuta · 5 months

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VITAMIN ME — JUJUTSU KAISEN BOYS + SICK FIC

featuring. gojo, toji, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu, itadori, choso, fushiguro

content. taking care of the boys/the boys taking care of you when feeling sick, all fluff, no warnings

word count. 2.5k

SATORU GOJO

He doesn’t feel under the weather often, but when he does, it hits him tenfold. He’s whiny, dramatic, borderline inconsolable, and feels well within his rights to demand your undivided attention, because he’s not usually like this… sick, that is (he is usually whiny and dramatic, no illness in the world could take that away from him).

You and him both know when he’s dragging it, but you can’t help but to feel bad for him. Because when Satoru is sick, he’s sick—you feel like you need to constantly monitor all his vitals, set a timer to make sure he gets medication because he’s so cold and pale and sluggish, it’s worrisome. Of course, he finds the strength to tease you, “You worried about little old me, sweets? Don’t be—‘m gonna be fine, you know. But I hear kisses cure the flu.”

“Not scientifically proven, or peer reviewed,” you tell him, “But you know what is? Tylenol. Time for more, open up, Satoru.”

“Will I get a kiss? Just a little one?”

He gives you a hard time, even in sickness, but it’s only because he absolutely relishes being in your care, thinks you’re good at taking care of him; proven by the way you give in with a nod, and then a kiss after he takes his medication. He really does feel like shit right now, but with you here, caring for him, his heart has expanded ten times and a warmth spills into his chest that makes the pain insignificant. Satoru feels honored and humbled to have someone fuss over him like this—to have this concrete reminder that you worry for him and care about him and love him just like he loves you.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

“You gonna feed me?” Toji grumbles, sounding much less threatening with a frog in his throat, “Because there’s no way I’m drinking that.”

You roll your eyes, lightly tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug before placing it onto the coffee table and extending your arms towards Toji, “The ginger is good for you. The lemon, too, if you wanna stop sounding like a low-budget villain anytime soon.”

Toji’s nose scrunches—it’s almost cute, if it weren’t followed by an infuriatingly stubborn turn of his jaw, pointedly away from you and back to the television. You huff, sitting down next to him—or as close as you can get through his mountain of blankets and forcefield of pillows—carefully nursing the cup in your palms.

Who would have thought that the great Toji Fushiguro would be so stubborn as to let a little cold get the best of him. Him attempting to suffer without cold medicine wasn’t that surprising, but you didn’t think that he’d petulantly refuse tea just because of some ginger. Getting him to take his antibiotics only worked when you told him you’d boot him onto the couch if he didn’t, but that won’t work this time, he’ll call your bluff.

You sigh, moving a pillow to your other side and reaching over to the coffee table to redeem your spoon. You fold one leg under the other and turn your body to Toji’s, scooping tea into the spoon, giving it a soft blow, and then raising it to his face. He quirks an eyebrow when he feels the steam brushing against his skin, and turns to you with a hellish grin.

He opens his mouth, to say something slick no doubt, but you take advantage of the opportunity to shove the spoon in his mouth, “You don’t get to talk until after you finish your tea.”

TOGE INUMAKI

Despite being a renowned insomniac and someone who is willing to throw away hours of sleep to binge watch his favorite series or complete a new game, Toge does believe that rest is the best medicine. He does take his own sleep seriously—it’s not his fault that most people consider his preferred sleeping hours to be regular waking hours.

So, even though it sounds a bit hypocritical, Toge is very firm about you resting as much as you can when you’re not feeling well. He’s quick to make a cocoon out of you in your two favorite blankets and fit you onto the couch to keep you within sight as he rummages around the kitchen to prepare your meals, and make sure that you don’t skimp out on your medication. He’s got some pretty effective homemade remedies for a killer sore throat, but cough syrup is cough syrup—he knows it tastes horrible, but if he has to force feed it to you, then so be it.

He feeds you spoonfuls of homemade broth and rice to make up for it, giggling as you scrunch your nose from the taste of the medicine. When you’re finished, he lets you tell him off and forgoes teasing you about how nasally you sound as he coerces you to lay down again. You don’t feel sleepy, but when Toge’s lips brush against your forehead, his words are like a spell that makes your eyes flutter shut, “Sleep, my love.”

KENTO NANAMI

“It’s cold, Ken,” you whine, sniffling at the end of your sentence. Kento sighs softly, switching off the light to the bathroom and taking careful strides to the bed. He carefully sits on the edge of the bed, expression sympathetic as you complain about the temperature again.

The room is actually slightly warmer than normal per your earlier request, but he knows you still feel cold because of how high your temperature is. It's exactly why he took your blanket from you—fuzzy, and warm, and weighted would all be enticing and acceptable if you weren’t running a very concerning fever. Kento absolutely hates to say no to you, but he has to do something to break your fever.

“I know, darling,” he nods gently, settling himself onto his side of the bed. He’d prefer to have the comfort of a heavy blanket right now, too, but he wouldn’t taunt you like that—if you have to sleep without one, then so will he. He should get you another cold towel for your forehead, but you tug on his heartstrings when you scoot yourself closer to him, nose nudging against his thigh. He smiles softly, carefully reaching to tap at your arms, “Come here.”

You shuffle upwards and into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest with your arms coming to wrap around his torso. Kento lets you melt into him and wraps strong arms around your body to keep you close—body heat will have to do for now.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

Yuuta walks—waddles, really—with his blanket over his shoulders, mouth slightly ajar, and a box of tissue in his hand for good measure. He looks cute despite his febrile state, with his nose red and eyes wide and you have to resist the urge to coo at him.

“I thought the Benadryl would have kept you asleep at least a little longer,” you smile, turning off the heat underneath the pot.

“Something smelled good... and I got hungry,” Yuuta shrugs weakly, taking the remaining steps into the kitchen and plopping his body weight onto a stool at the island. He sniffles deeply, setting his box of tissues down on the counter, before pointing at the lowly simmering pot behind you, “Is that… for me?”

“No, it’s for my other sick boyfriend,” you grin, reaching into a nearby cabinet for a bowl. You giggle when you see Yuuta’s pouty expression, cheeks a light pink and bottom lip jutted slightly.

“It’s not nice to make fun of the ill,” he coughs. His façade is waning, already weakened by his sick state, and crumbling when you push a warm bowl of his favorite soup in front of him. You can’t help but to laugh a little louder because Yuuta’s eyes practically grow three sizes and you swear he’s salivating a little.

He shakes away the shock, turning with a pout when he realizes you’re poking fun at him again, “You’re doing it again. Now you owe me a kiss.”

“Do I?” you tease, taking the seat on the stool next to him, elbows resting on the counter, as you peer up at Yuuta’s flushed face. You’ll let him ride the excuse his blush being the fever for a little longer, “That’s risky. I might get sick, and I have a very cute boyfriend to take care of.”

“I’ll take care of you, too,” Yuuta all but whispers, tired eyes fluttering to your lips, “In sickness and in health, right?”

He leans down a bit and you meet him for a quick kiss, pulling away to smile, “I thought that was for married couples.”

“I’ll fix that soon,” Yuuta smiles, satisfied. You giggle, reaching out to poke his red nose and then his cheek to turn his face back to his soup.

“Well, then go ahead and eat and get well soon,” you muse, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “I expect a very romantic proposal from an un-sick lover boy.”

YUUJI ITADORI

You should have known that Nobara was going to rat you out sooner or later, if not for your own wellbeing, then for hers—because despite your roommate being a caring soul beneath her tough exterior, she is not caring enough to risk her own health because you’re sniffling all over your shared apartment; especially not before she’s supposed to go on her first vacation with her boyfriend.

On the third day of coughing, Nobara tells you she’s going to camp out with Megumi until her flight, and that Yuuji is the person she’s entrusted with her keys until she returns back from her trip. So, it’s not a surprise that a mere hour later, you find Yuuji all but barreling through your front door with grocery bags in hand, all of which he promptly drops when he hears you hacking out your lungs on the couch, quick to dart to your side and hold your cup as you shakily drink some water.

“Babe! You’re, like, super sick,” he exclaims, now sitting criss-cross on your living room floor, slowly unpacking the grocery bags for a real-time haul, “You should have told me earlier, I could have gotten you all this stuff way sooner!”

“I’m fine, Yuuji. It’s a mild cold at most,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as he rips open a new box of Kleenex and thrusts it in your direction. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, untrusting of your words, before he springs up with the last grocery bag in hand.

“Well, still... I’m not a doctor, but I got all the medications Nanamin told me to get, so we’re gonna get this cold out of you in no time,” he grins, patting your head before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “In the meantime, how about some soup? Oh—I just saw a recipe for something spicy, that should help with your nose right? Or maybe ramen? Leave it to me!”

CHOSO KAMO

You couldn’t help but to snap one more picture of Choso. You felt bad, a little bit, he was tired and sick and probably felt like crap, but he looked very cute when he was sleepy, cuddled up in fuzzy blankets from head to toe, with just enough space to expose his tired eyes and red nose. One more wouldn’t hurt.

You smile to yourself as you look back at him, slipping your phone into your pocket and walking over to join Choso on the couch. There’s not enough room for you to sit in the seat, so you have to cotch yourself in the arm of the couch closest to his head and gently reach out to move a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. It would make for another cute picture, but you refrain, choosing to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead instead, before standing to start picking up the spare tissue and cough drop wrappers littered around him.

You always tell him he’s going to worry himself sick, and he’s managed to do just that. It was a little fun, a little cute, but mostly, you’re just happy that Choso is resting. You know that sleep doesn’t come easily to him under normal circumstances; if being a little under the weather is what gets your boyfriend to slow down and care for his body, then so be it; you’ll be there to help him out.

You’re about to head into the kitchen, when you’re stopped by a warm hand brushing against your leg. You turn to see Choso limply reaching out of your, slowly blinking awake, before weakly beckoning for you again, “Stay here,” he croaks, “Please?”

You smile, placing the gathered trash onto the coffee table, before burying yourself within Choso’s blankets. You have to do a little wiggling to get underneath him, but Choso doesn’t mind, happily resting his weight against you, eyes already fluttering closed again, not before he lets you a meek, “Thank you. I love you.”

You give him one final kiss to the crown of his head, “I love you, too.”

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

“Megumi, are you… okay?” you question softly, leaning over the small restaurant table to squint at your boyfriend. You’d been watching him carefully since he’d picked you up from your house, deducing that something was definitely wrong, even if Megumi had been trying his best to hide it.

He could be quiet, but he was definitely not soft spoken, nor did he normally wince after swallowing a bite of his food. You should have known something was off from the start, when you’d held hands on your walk and Megumi’s fingers were warm, and not icicles attached to his palm.

Megumi freezes, mouth gaping slightly, before he closes it and composes himself with slumped shoulders—he’d considered keeping up his brave front, but it’d be futile at this point, so he sighs, “My throat hurts, is all,” he confesses, the hoarseness of his tired voice peeking through, “I had a fever yesterday, but it was fine this morning.”

You lean over a little more, just enough to be able to extend your hand so that the back of your palm meets Megumi’s forehead. It’s warm, to no surprise, and you find yourself tutting, recoiling your hand slightly, with enough space to flick him.

“Ow?” He groans, and you only roll your eyes. You pull back to fish through your bag, to pull out some cash and leave it on the table. Megumi begins to question you, but you’re not hearing it, getting up to sling your purse over your shoulder and grab your boyfriend by the forearm.

“You’re an idiot,” you scold, ushering him out of the restaurant, “We are going to urgent care to get you a strep test, and then to that bakery Nanami tells us not to tell anyone about to get you soup, and then you are going to sit and eat it and contemplate your actions for the rest of the evening.”

Megumi lets himself be dragged away—another tell-tale sign that he really is feeling under the weather (which is also what he chooses to blame his blush on). If “contemplating his actions,” was code word for you hovering over him for a bit, then maybe he wouldn’t mind.

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beroebluejeans · 3 months

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I am constantly thinking about a review of Harrow the Ninth where the reviewer disliked a lot about the book but specifically complained how it wasn’t sci-fi-y enough for something set 10,000 years in the future. He complained it was unrealistic they were eating ginger biscuits and smoking cigarettes and I’m like … THAT’S INTENTIONAL! IT’S THEMATICALLY SIGNIFICANT!! TAMSYN MUIR IS MAKING A POINT ABOUT HOW CLINGING TO A GLORIFIED PAST WILL DESTROY YOU!!

John Gaius tells us (well, Harrow) in Nona the Ninth that he always hated change, but even in Harrow the Ninth it’s clear—he and his lyctors are stagnating and have been for millennia. They’re constantly talking about how great things used to be (sexy parties, Cassiopeia’s cooking, etc.). They have no hope for the future. John has a spaceship full of bodies in cryosleep—literally frozen in time and undying but also unable to grow or live. He is the Emperor Undying.

The theme becomes more explicit in Nona the Ninth: we see John (and arguably BOE) stuck on this 10,000-year-old grudge and unable to move past it. He thought he could keep Alecto in stasis in a tomb what, forever? He makes Gideon into a non-living preserved version of herself.

Meanwhile the characters who are living and growing are changing, even when it’s sometimes awful, because it’s how they keep doing what needs to be done. Palamedes and Camilla say before they become Paul that it wasn’t inevitable, but it is the best thing they can do now: they will make this imperfect irreversible change because that’s how they keep living and protecting the people they love. On the trip to the Ninth, Nona considers it might be better to just die, instead of continue this uncertain journey forward, but ultimately accepts irrevocable, painful change because NOODLE. And because “You can’t take loved away”: change doesn’t destroy the past or invalidate the good that existed there. Living requires change, but change doesn’t require forgetting.

Anyway, thank you to that reviewer who was so annoyed by the ginger biscuits in Harrow the Ninth that he illuminated a major theme in the series for me.

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth

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vidavalor · 7 months

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The pub scene is even funnier when you consider that poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has likely had this longtime pash on Aziraphale and, like everyone on Whickber Street, he has no idea who exactly The Ginger Goth With The Old Car is. He knows the prevailing theory is mafia but Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has seen Ginger Goth hanging around Mrs. Sandwich and her "Sandwich Shop" and also around the bookshop a bit and also some naked guy was also at the bookshop recently, so... what's the likeliest conclusion drawn by Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets? That the old bookseller's lonely and paying for it.

He sees them come into the pub and thinks Aziraphale is classy like that and is taking the sex worker for a drink first or maybe that's part of it-- he's gone the whole 'boyfriend experience' route. Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets sees Aziraphale with that chest stroke of that Thin Dark Duke he's paying and while Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets, just FYI) isn't here to judge and gets it as he's lonely, too... and while he does think the bookseller picks some hot ones... he wants to give Mr. Fell the real thing. The kind of love you can only get between two middle-aged, still-sorta-closeted queers like they are. He'll be someone the bookseller can talk to and find some genuine chemistry with, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets will be, so he decides to shoot his shot and knows the bookseller is skittish from their past interactions, so he goes for the meeting option. He'll have to come over to drop off the chairs, of course. Give them an excuse to talk more, alone, when Mr. Fell is not, erm, entertaining.

And poor Mr. Brown--President of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is-- fine, upstanding, boring as all holy fuck fella... He's met by Crowley coming over with drinks and a greeting that says this is neither the first time, nor, he doubts, will it be the last that he's had to Husband the bookseller but again, Mr. Brown of Oh, You Know By Now thinks this is a bit, so he's not intimidated.

"I was just absolutely hitting on him for real, unlike you," is what he basically told Crowley when explaining what they were chatting about.

And Crowley's like lol you got him flustered enough to host this meeting. Good on you, Mr. Whoever the Fuck You Are from Whatever Shop You Run. Look at you *go*. 😍 I've got a new favorite human, Aziraphale.

He's all "you astonish me" to Aziraphale, teasing him like you're leading the poor, balding bastard on, angel. I know it's hard for you to reign in your divine sex appeal but you should maybe try. His heart is only human, after all.

Mr. Brown still thinks Crowley's a sex worker though so he doesn't give up and is all like remember, Mr. Fell, our date is right after work on Thursday in a group setting to set you at ease but I'll see you first to set it all up because I want you and I want to make sure you know I'm not just here for the business meeting.

Crowley: That's it-- I'm adopting you, Ballsy Mr. Carpet. I like your style. But you'll never wear my angel down. We've been married for 6,000 years. I am definitely up for saving you from some demons on Thursday though and making it rain on you and literally any fruity, single shop owner in the greater metro area next season. You're on the deck after my shop lesbians. Now piss off, Mr. Barnes. We haven't been to the pub in ages and you're in my seat.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #mr brown #of Brown's world of carpets #good omens 2 #aziracrow

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chilumi-shipper · 11 months

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From Me, For You

Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader

Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments

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Childe

Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.

You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.

It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.

But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...

He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"

And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.

You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.

You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.

The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.

"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.

The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.

Blood...

Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.

"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."

The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.

"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?

This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.

However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.

"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.

"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"

"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.

A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.

"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.

"This is just worthless."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.

You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.

Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.

"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.

Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?

Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.

His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.

A realization hit him... they look a lot like...

Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.

A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.

His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.

He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.

Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.

"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."

"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."

"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.

"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."

"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.

"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.

He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.

After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.

"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."

"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.

"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.

"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.

"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.

The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!

But he will persevere, just for you.

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Alhaitham

You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.

It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.

Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.

"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.

The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."

You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.

You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.

it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.

"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.

"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.

"Do you not want to be with me?"

"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.

He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."

And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.

First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.

His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.

Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D

You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!

Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.

Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!

You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.

The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.

At least... that's what you thought...

But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...

Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.

And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.

Apparently, that included your work.

"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."

"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."

"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."

You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.

Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.

You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.

"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.

That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.

This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.

A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.

"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.

"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.

"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.

"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.

"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."

"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."

And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?

Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.

Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.

...

"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.

The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.

"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.

"What are you doing?"

Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."

"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."

And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.

"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.

You made them because... you love him...

And he fucked up.

Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.

He had to fix this.

...

You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.

"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.

On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.

"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."

He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.

For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.

"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.

Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.

Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.

And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.

You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!

But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.

There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.

Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.

It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...

He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.

You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...

"Would you like to come in for dinner?"

...

You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.

After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.

"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.

With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."

You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.

"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?

You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."

He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."

"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."

"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.

"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."

"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.

"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."

You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.

"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.

"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.

"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"

"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.

"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."

...

"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.

"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.

The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.

"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.

Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."

"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.

"I'll keep that in mind."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D

It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact childe #childe angst #childe fluff #childe x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham angst #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader

7K notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 3 months

Text

pairing: Ginger Spice daughter!reader x Max Verstappen (ex!Harry Styles

fc: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: YN and Max can't catch a break from her past, can they? So when the song is "leaked" another one can be as well. There won't be any consequences. Unless that past will text the unexpected person.

warnings: swearing, probably just that

a/n: Took me some time, but it is here!!!!

masterlist part 1 part 2

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maxverstappen1 added to his IG story!

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 4 003 845 others

yourinstagram oops! just an inchident on the race (in the studio) nonsense christmas remix somehow available right now???

view all 200 932 comments

maxverstappen1 I've already bought the Santa Claus costume

⤷ yourinstagram i'll take you for a ride?

⤷ maxverstappen1 I'm available right now.

⤷ landonorris not in the public comments, GUYS

⤷ yourinstagram go away, lala

landonorris thank you for traumatising me once again... WHY DID YOU DO A REMIX?????

⤷ yourinstagram CAUSE MY MAN KEEPS ON GIVING

⤷ landonorris I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT

⤷ maxverstappen1 You asked, you got an answer.

⤷ landonorris go away, charles dickens

⤷ yourinstagram you know it's-

⤷ landonorris I DON'T WANT TO KNOW

daniericciardo Christmas dinner without Max then?

⤷ yourinstagram dad won't hear this one :))

⤷ christianhorner Too late, young lady.

charles_leclerc wasn't it supposed to be an album release?

⤷ yourinstagram too little of an inchident to somehow release a whole album, wasn't it?

⤷ yourinstagram also, can't you keep some secrets, you know, SECRET?

⤷ charles_leclerc Oh!

ynupdates WHAAATT????

ynsmybestie what in the hell is this??????

ynsmymama not yn 'leaking' a song just like harry to take the spotlight. QUEEN BEHAVIOUR.

ynshands no tthe inchident

formula1wags someone's coming for that no.1 spot

maxandyn WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THE LAST SLIDE????

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maxverstappen1

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1 864 320 others

maxverstappen1 Snowflakes in my stomach... Congratulations, shatje

view all 100 403 comemnts

yourinstagram wouldn't happen without you, my love

⤷ maxverstappen1 Glad to be of help.

landonorris your welcome for taking yet another sickening photo of you two

⤷ yourinstagram sickening?

⤷ maxverstappen1 You were just scrubbed from the New Years' party list. Good job!

⤷ landonorris you wouldn't

⤷ yourinstagram but i would

danielricciardo how does it feel to be the no.1?

⤷ maxverstappen1 The usual.

⤷ yourinstagram you're so hot

⤷ maxverstappen1 Well, thank you.

⤷ yourinstagram bed.

⤷ danielricciardo NOT UNDER MY COMMENT. COME ONE GUYS

charles_leclerc when are you singing on a track?

carlossainz55 congratulations yn!

ynupdates how i love them

maxnadyn they are the best couple

ynsmybestie second photo taken after yn got that charles dickens

formula1fan94 not max posting his girl on ig???? who are you?

ynfan49 this is the support a girl needs!

ynfan299 not the stop in responses after yn called max to bed

⤷ landonorris and why would you pu those words from your brain, through your fingertips and post here?

⤷ danielricciardo are you still in love with yn?

⤷ landonorris not that again

⤷ ynfan94 LANDO IN LOVE WITH YN????? NO WAY

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redbullracing

liked by yourinstagram, gerihalliwellhorner and 583 100 others

redbullracing This is a public announcement stating that Max Verstappen is very suitable for Christmas dinner at Horner's. Big boss please say yes

view all 85 148 comments

yourinstagram i love you admin

⤷ redbullracing I love you, YN YSN

gerihalliwellhorner That was a very good try, Max!

landonorris someone's desperate!

danielricciardo i thought you swore to max to never post it??

⤷ redbullracing challenging times call for desperate measures

danielricciardo btw! it was filmed month and months ago. mx was learning all the lyrics to impress geri

⤷ yourinstagram no way!!!!! maxie

ynupdates THIS MAN JUST KEEPS ON GIVING

formula1fan85 26th day without Max win be like:

charles_leclerc when are you releasing an album?

⤷ yourinstagram next album: i sing, you play piano, max is background singer and dancer. deal?

⤷ charles_leclerc deal.

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maxverstappen1 and yourinstagram added to their IG story!

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 1 903 302 others

yourinstagram christmas at horners were a blast 🎄💫

view all 89 302 comments

maxverstappen1 I liked the host's daughter.

⤷ yourinstagram scandalous.

maxverstappen1 You are so beautiful.

⤷ yourinstagram falling deeper in love with you with each day

landonorris I made it not only to horner's christmas party but to yn's instagram feed????

danielricciardo jpeg account when?

gerihalliwellhorner I love a full house but never thought that they can cause that much trouble.

⤷ landonorris that broken lamp wasn't my fault, ms Geri

⤷ charles_leclerc that red stain on the couch isn't from my wine

⤷ carlossainz55 i did eat the whole cake

⤷ yourinstagram and I frank that 1952 wine

lewishamilton Thank you for inviting me and Roscoe!

sebastianvettel It was a pleasure spending Christmas with you all!

georgerussell63 I've never eaten so good in my life

ynupdates not the whole f1 grid having a Christmas together??? at horner's house???

ynsmybestie oh she looked so beautiful

comment liked by maxverstappen1

maxandyn iiiii lllloooooovvvvvveeeeee tttttthhhhhhheeeeeemmm

formula1fan93 Lewis at horner's??? wtf

ynsfan943 not yn just bringing whole grid home and destroying the house on chritians expense

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landonorris, danielricciardo and yourinstagram added to their IG story!

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a/n: little bit of fluff with some drama and some secrets being kept. do we like it so far??

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x singer!reader #max verstappen fic #harry styles x reader

1K notes · View notes

perlelune · 5 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | i.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Birdsong fills your ears as you meticulously unearth the last few weeds in the soil. Careful to not damage the stems, you pull gently while barely disturbing the dirt. The last step is pruning. With ginger motions, you cut each crooked branch pointing in the wrong direction. Beads of sweat drip down from your forehead into the soil.

The heat from the sun is unforgiving today.

But you welcome the labor, even with the sweltering weather. Time flies when you spend it in the garden.

It’s a welcome distraction, the kind you’ve sorely craved as of late. Idleness does you no good. It often ends with you curled beneath your blankets, drowning in a puddle of your own tears.

Each day you wake up hoping none of it was real.

The harsh reality swiftly claims its right however.

It’s everywhere. All the painful little reminders.

The empty chair at the dinner table. All the spots he loved in the house, now desolate without him. His untouched room, lacking the messiness he usually favored.

And there’s all the times you turn, words tingling on your tongue, hoping he’ll be there to listen to you as always.

Then you remember.

Your brother can never listen to you again. And neither will you listen to him.

You’ll never hear his stupid laugh again or his crazy stories.

And your whole life you’ll turn, hoping to see him standing right there, beside you, but he will not be here.

Your grip on the shears loosen. They hit the vibrant green grass with a quiet thud.

You lift your eyes to admire your handiwork.

The garden looks nice; the flowers are thriving. The roses in particular.

They have bloomed wonderfully this year, having blushed to a gorgeous scarlet.

Your heart sinks.

If only Sejanus were here to see it. Your brother spent most of his life helping you tend to this garden. Whenever he wasn’t busy at the Academy or with the various tasks Strabo had for him, your brother was here, with you.

You both worked in silence, basking in the warmth of the sun and the pleasure of each other’s company.

The garden turns into a watercolor rainbow before you as your eyes well up with tears.

“We have company, sweetie.”

You swivel towards the familiar airy tone your mother often uses. She often emphasizes the importance of poise and decorum in every situation. Even in the current situation, your mother’s held her head high. Still, you don’t miss the subtle red rims around her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks.

Like you, she’s suffering. While you may not share blood with your family, having been adopted when you were three, your bond with your mother has always been as strong as if she gave birth to you.

Confusion has your brows collide into each other.

“Company? We weren’t expecting anyone.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, gripping your shoulders. Heartbreak flashes in her eyes, the same soulful ones as her departed son. “I’m hurting too, but you can’t hide forever.”

She cups your face and advises, “Go put on a nice dress, and wash up some. You have dirt on your face.” Disapproval pinches your mother’s features as she gauges your disheveled appearance. She sighs. "You know you don’t have to do that. This is what we have staff for."

Help. You suppose your mother refers to the Avoxes who tend to the yard sometimes. The sight of them fills you with rage and disgust.

Just one of the Capitol’s many crimes against its own people. Who would even clip someone’s tongue as punishment, then have them serve their tormentors?

It’s beyond vile and sadistic. But what else to expect from a place that openly sponsors child murder?

At times, you feel as if you’re living amongst beasts masquerading as human beings.

Still, you feign nonchalance. Some opinions cannot be voiced aloud, even to your parents. Especially to your parents.

"It calms me down," you explain, shedding your gloves and removing your wide-brimmed hat.

“Sweetie…”

She gives you yet another lecture on proper ladylike behavior. As usual, you only listen with half an ear, checking out about five minutes into her querulous spiel.

You’ve heard it at least a million times before. Still, you indulge her like the dutiful daughter you are.

She then reminds you to get dressed. You don’t have to be told twice.

You head to the back door connecting the garden to your room.

While you do as you’ve been instructed, inquiries crowd your mind. Your parents haven’t been too fond of visitors lately. Besides, what kind of company requires you to dress up?

As you head to your massive closet, you wonder who’d visit your family at such a time.

Your mother’s refrained from entertaining altogether and your father’s poured all his energy in his business, turning down most social calls.

You randomly pick a dress, a pale blue one with a sweetheart neckline, before making your way downstairs.

Faint chatter echoes from the sunroom near your father’s office. You follow the hushed voices.

Astonishment rushes through you when you realize who’s having tea with your father.

You haven’t seen him since reaping day.

“Coriolanus?” you gasp.

He stands to his full height at the sound of you calling his name. Your surprise multiplies.

He seems so…different, yet you can’t pinpoint what exactly about him elicits that impression within you. After all, he's still the same tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed, dashing young man you knew before.

But something has changed. You can feel it.

Even the air around him moves in a different way, it seems.

He makes his way to you, surprising you further by grabbing your hand and brushing his lips over the back of it.

“You look lovely,” he mumbles, cobalt eyes finding yours.

Warmth rushes to your cheeks. You don’t remember Coriolanus ever being so…chivalrous.

“T-Thank you,” you stammer.

“I’ll let you two kids catch up,” your father states, nodding at the blond before taking his leave.

“How are you holding up?” the young man asks, escorting you to a nearby bench.

It occurs to you that he’s still holding your hand, his long slender fingers curled around yours. Cheeks aflame once again, you draw it back and tuck it in your lap.

Coriolanus’ brow twitches at your tiny gesture.

“I…Dad said you were the one who brought the box with his things. That was so thoughtful of you.”

A subtle smile spreads on his lips.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it means a lot,” you insist, shaking your head. “Any part of him it’s…it’s important to keep it.”

You fidget as he studies you, his crystalline gaze unreadable.

“But you have the most important part with you all the time. In the end it’s all we have, right? Our memories.”

Your heart swells with warmth. He’s right, you surmise. After all, every memory of your brother is yours. Forever. They will never be taken away.

You’re a little taken aback though. Who knew Coriolanus Snow to be so sentimental?

“Thanks, Coryo.”

His mouth tenses at the nickname but his tight-lipped smile expands. You used to call him that when you were little, having witnessed Tigris do it. It stuck and he never corrected you.

“I missed you. I think the last time you came to our house you were like seven or eight, right?” A soft giggle leaves your lips. “Janus had to drag you there. He kept asking and you always said no.”

He shrugs.

“All the other kids were picking on him. I didn’t want to make it worse for him.”

Your voice softens. “But you never did. Pick on him I mean.” They may not have been the closest but you remembered how much it meant to Sejanus at the time, that at least one kid in his class wasn’t harassing him for being from a district. While some thought he was merely upholding the grace befitting his name and status, you believed otherwise. You’ve always been convinced that beneath the sturdy layer of indifference he drapes over himself, Coriolanus is kinder than he seems. He was kind to you after all.

He spoke to you many times, even playing with you when many other children wouldn’t. Over the years, you grew a bit apart but he’s always been sweet whenever you ran into each other.

“So, what have you been up to?” he asks, changing the subject.

You sigh. “Not much,” you admit. “Gardening, reading, going to class. The preparations for the wedding take up most of my time anyway.”

His jaw ticks as a slight crease appears on his forehead.

“A wedding? Are you helping someone plan their wedding?”

“No…It’s for my wedding actually.”

Your engagement ring glimmers, catching the sunlight as you show it to him.

Coriolanus’ frown deepens.

“You’re engaged? I didn’t realize.”

Enthusiastic, you nod. “Yeah, he’s amazing. We met at Uni. Dad doesn’t like him too much though.”

This seems to catch his interest, his head leaning sideways.

“Is that so?”

“His family’s from the districts…and Dad said his breeding will drag down to our name.”

Just saying it boils your blood. How hypocritical of your father when the Plinth house had its roots in District 2. Sometimes, it stuns you how far your father’s strayed from the plight of his own people, going as far as sponsoring and financing the barbaric practice the Hunger Games are.

Sejanus never stood for it, rightfully so.

It’s one of the many reasons you miss him. He never embraced the horrors of Panem, fighting against your father’s plans for him at every turn. In the end, it even got him killed.

“He just wants what’s best for you." He pauses, plucking your hand from your lap. His long fingers twine with yours. His tone dips, oozing concern. "I do too. You deserve the best. I hope you know that.”

A wave of emotions engulfs you. You don’t notice you’ve begun shedding tears until he reaches up to your face, using his thumbs to collect them.

You give a watery smile.

“Thank you. For everything. For the box. For coming.”

He traces your tear-stained cheek with his finger.

“I should have reached out more," he says, glistening blue eyes locking with yours.

Your hands cover his. You never expected in a million to hear such words leaving Coriolanus’ mouth. He’s always been so…aloof.

This is the kind of change you can only welcome. You often hoped Coriolanus would open himself more to others.

“It’s okay. We can catch up now. Make up for lost time," you chime.

His lips twist upward. "Right. We have all the time in the world."

Struck with the abrupt realization of your closeness, the way he cups your face being easy to misconstrue for an onlooker, you scoot backwards and clear your throat.

Flames tickle your cheeks.

You’d be lying if you said you never harbored a little crush on the handsome heir of House Snow growing up. He on the other end, never seemed to notice you, his attention always on girls like Clemmie or Arachne. It makes sense, you suppose. They are, after all, cut from the same cloth. Bonded by generations upon generations of hoarded wealth and an elusive code of rules and conduct you never fully grasped.

The mere way you hold a cup of tea gives you away.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re older now and about to get married. You can’t wander the wistful lands of childhood fantasies anymore.

So while keeping a careful distance, you offer solemnly, “I… Dad is attending this fundraiser tonight…to funnel the promotion funds for the next Hunger Games." Your brow furrows as disdain coats your tone. You can’t believe plans to repeat this ghastly tradition are being set in motion. "I didn’t want to go but he wants the family to present a strong front."

You pointedly omit to speak of your father’s blackmail and all he threatened to take from you if you didn’t show up, starting with the roof over your head.

See how well you fare as district trash, how long it takes you to crawl back home and beg for scraps.

You discard Strabo’s harsh warning to the deepest recesses of your mind. While you know he loves you, he also doesn’t tolerate any misstep from you. They took you in after all, saved you from a life of misery. Otherwise you’d have grown up an orphan. Instead, you get to live a lavish, easy existence in the lap of luxury, now the heir apparent to the Plinth fortune since Janus has passed.

You’re grateful, of course, for all they gave you. You just hate having to forsake your origins and partake passively in the slaughter of innocent children. Once you’re at the helm of the company, you’ll do everything in your power to stir up change. Every tidal wave begins with a small ripple. Perhaps one day all those tiny ripples will come together and form a tsunami, one that’ll wash away the sins of the Capitol and too many years of injustice.

"You should come. I could introduce you to my fiancé,” you offer.

Hopefully seeing both of them in one place will cement which one of them is your past and which one is your present. You don’t like the way a single touch from him flustered you so easily.

While you’re thrilled to resume your friendship with him, you and Coriolanus can never be more than that.

Besides the obvious matter of your impending nuptials, the two of you are so different. There has to be someone out there for him, some lucky girl that’ll make him so happy. And you bet he’ll make her happy too.

One thing's for sure however. That girl isn’t you.

Coriolanus sizes you up before giving a slow reply.

“I look forward to it,” he says.

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosbas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!fic #tbosas fanfiction

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