So, I met my nurse today and she said I'm finally getting scheduled for the ADHD testing on Dec 18th—after all these years. Albeit she said that it may not change a thing, but it's good to test it anyway.
I also had a discussion with my teacher today about my problems and we went through some stuff, and I might feel a little bit more enlightened about some things, which will hopefully help me.
Still. I'm having trouble with planning some stuff at my workplace because the staff there simply doesn't have time, and my instructor is also a very busy person (plus she's fussy and impatient and a little upset/disappointed with me which is not making it any easier for me), so that is still giving me a lot of stress right now.
So, I don't know. On the other hand, one teacher says I'm doing a good job and that I shouldn't quit. Then again, this particular school and their style of teaching simply might not be the thing for me and I expressed that concern today as well. I need help getting through with some stuff and nobody has time for me, so it's obviously not good.
I also need to find another place to train soon and that workplace would have to be something where I wouldn't have to manage 15 things at the same time and well. Finding that could be a challenge, too.
But. I suppose we're going somewhere.
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there are some stories in mythologies that start with two deities. everything else exists because of them. Gaia and Ouranos, Terra and Caelus, Ranginui and Papatūānuku, for example.
we start with Jake and Chloe.
instead of being the sky father and the earth mother, we have creation and destruction. light and dark. forgiveness and vengeance.
total opposite, but a dynamic pair
it was just them for a while, having fun building their world. things got messy, of course
it suddenly gets boring when you have only one person to spend eternity with
somehow, they learn to create life
jenna was the first to join them. she sees all. overwhelming. glimpses of the future, connections between people. it was like she could reach out and physically touch the string connecting jake and chloe. she discovered that whenever she messed with those lines, it affected the relationships. however, jenna was not the cause of the strained relationship between jake and chloe. she longed to discover what would happen if one were to cut that string. maybe she could have tested it when she saw new strings connecting to jake and chloe, but even then she didn't dare to interfere.
jeremy, michael, and christine. thick as theives and artists at heart. they danced around their feelings for an agonisingly long time (and they have eterninty)
rich was made from jake's mourning. he walked out of the fire from chloe's destruction and stopped in front of jake as he watched their temples fall
brooke was once a mere mortal who fell in love with chloe. she eventually gave up her friends, her family, her life, her mortality to spend eternity with chloe. and she would watch those from her old life mourn and grow and move on from afar, always making sure that her birthplace was well fed, well protected, well taken care of.
jake and chloe discover it's much better to spend eternity with their little family than by themselves
(jake and chloe never knew where they came from. never knew that someone else created them. but they know more than anyone else that anything that has been created can also be destroyed)
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ON THE YOUNGEST EVER CALVARY CAPTAIN
Diluc received his Vision a few days before his Knights of Favonious entrance exam, during a very intense training session. He passed all of his tests with outstanding marks and was given the rank of Calvary Captain immediately upon his induction to the order.
Was this due to his father's influence and close friendship with Varka? Perhaps. Even so, Diluc truly believed he deserved the position, and his predecessor was content to retire quietly and let the young lad have his day in the sun.
After all, Diluc had spent his childhood roaming about the fields he now patrolled. And now? He also had the power to defend them.
---
These days, the regulations are a bit more strict.
Diluc is also the reason for that: his resignation was framed as an immature act from a child that got promoted too soon and was not prepared for the full responsibilities of the rank.
(This is the story that was told, even though it wasn't true.)
However, even after Varka and Jean learned more about the reasons behind Diluc's actions, they still believed the restrictions would be beneficial in the long run.
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Call me naive, but I actually don't believe Hui would abandon Pentagon to go rogue and join Boys Planet. Yeah, there is pressure on idols to act like they're close with their group members, but there are some things you can't fake. Look how Hui spends his most finite resource: his time. During enlistment, he still chose to live at home with the guys. He went to their MV shoot, showed up at Jinho's musical, got up at ungodly hours to attend prerecordings for Feelin' Like stages. He works out with Shinwon pretty much daily. And before Invite U came out, when something so upsetting was going on behind the scenes that Yuto cried, Hui showed up to get them through it. Even during enlistment, he was still their leader. If everything was fake, he could have had two years off on his own, but he chose to spend it glued to the other members. Even if he thought Pentagon wasn't going to make it, I firmly believe he'd go down with the ship rather than stealing away in a life raft alone. (Also, they're doing well!) I'm just going to sit here and wait for the record to be set straight, thanks.
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Having a fuckin Thursday, my dudes (gender neutral)
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👍 told my mom I’m gonna wear a mask in the airport and she was normal about it and actually agreed with me. First win of the weekend
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Someone tell me why I went to my one on one meeting with a manager and came out of it with a project I’m not supposed to take over until next spring
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ending my birthday in a near panic attack state seems about right
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Okay, so, now my school might be arranging a 2-week on-the-job-learning trip to Portugal in November-December, for those interested in / lack of experience from foreign countries... but I don't know if I can even apply there now because there's a possibility that my schedule could be filled with other kind of stuff that we're supposed to be doing for this degree at the same time, so. 🙃 I'm kinda mad ngl.
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life is fucking agony why the hell am I still in this god forsaken house.
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things causing me anxiety rn:
really need dad to understand that him getting a job basically to have something to do since he's retired means he should be the one taking time off work to get mom to/from her appointments and not me or my aunt, and he can absolutely tell his employer he needs an afternoon in April and a morning in May off for "medical appointments" like that's NBD, no employer is going to fire you on the spot for that (I think his anxiety comes from just Never having to take time off when he was working before, but he has to get used to it now!) Anyway me and my aunt informed him of this today (kindly) but I'm worried he won't take the time off even though we all agree it's unlikely mom will actually go to her appointments if she has to call a cab for herself (mentally we just don't think she's capable of getting around by herself very much anymore, like finding dr's offices in the hospital, and her anxiety would probably make her just Not go anyway).
also been having unsettling and gross dreams all this week and idk if it's a lingering period symptom or what but I'm really tired of waking up feeling gross and wondering what the fuck my brain is doing
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for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*
Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.
And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.
And a few of them were also hot.
But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!
He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.
“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”
Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.
The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.
Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.
Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.
Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.
But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.
So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.
Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.
He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.
He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.
“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.
A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.
“What?” He hissed out.
“Do you understand this?”
“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”
Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.
“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.
Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.
“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”
“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.
“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”
Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.
“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”
Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.
“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.
“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”
“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”
Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”
“So you aren’t a natural at French?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”
“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.
“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.
Eddie kinda liked that.
“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”
Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.
“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”
Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.
By Steve Harrington.
“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”
Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.
“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”
Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.
Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required
When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.
Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.
Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.
Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉
Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.
Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.
And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.
He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.
Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.
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"Sweet & Vicious" - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Tribute!Reader
Summary: Coriolanus learns that there's more to you, the sweet little tribute from District 1, than meets the eye.
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, mentions of previous sexual assault, canon-typical murder/violence (reader is a tribute), oral m receiving, tiddy succin, p in v sex, creampie, lowkey breeding kink lmao
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
Coryo knows that Gaul is setting him up to fail when she assigns him to be your mentor. You’re from District 1 and apparently you’re a career, but truth be told? He doesn’t see it. He observes you, chatting with the other tributes, a friendly smile on your face. You’re bubbly and outgoing, but you look harmless. Like you wouldn’t be able to harm a fly. How’s he going to win the Plinth Scholarship with you as his tribute? He presses his lips together in a thin line, his mind working double time to try and figure out what his angle is here. How is he going to do this?
You have an interesting way about you, he muses. You flirt with every single male tribute in the room, batting those lashes of yours, smiling up at them so demurely. Coryo can’t help but feel the slightest hint of envy when one rests a hand on your bare waist, helping fix your position as you practice knife throwing - something you fail at miserably. Shit. But, you have each of the boys there eating out of the palm of your hand. And there’s something sharp in your gaze. You stand off to the side, and to anyone else it would look like you’re being lazy. But Coryo knows what you’re doing.
You’re studying the others. Searching for weaknesses. It’s what he would do.
You move with an almost serpentine grace, weaving your way through the room, taking note of everything happening around you. At first glance, you seem like a ditzy flirt. But Coryo sees past that now. He sees you, scrutinizing and evaluating. There’s more to you than meets the eye. You flirt your way through the room, dazzling everyone with your sweet demeanor, your pretty face. You endear yourself to them so that they will feel bad about killing you when the time comes. So that they hesitate. But there’s so much more to you than that.
It’s time to break for lunch and one by one, the tributes file out of the training room. Save for you and the girls from 2, 3, and 4. Coryo raises a brow as they approach you, the girl from 1 having a knife in hand. Before he can even yell to warn you, you turn, grabbing her by the wrist, a smile a little too sharp to be genuine on your face.
“That’s cheating, Rachel,” you say, your voice sickeningly sweet, “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to try to kill me until we’re in the Arena? Not very nice.”
He watches as you quickly dispatch them, tackling Rachel to the ground, sweeping the girl from 3’s feet out from beneath her as you do before lunging on top of the girl from 4. All three of them groan in pain, holding their stomachs, while you make your way toward Coryo, that same innocent little smile on your face. He watches you with admiration as you approach him, already feeling proud to be your mentor.
“You’re my mentor. Coriolanus Snow, right?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, a coy little grin on your face as you introduce yourself.
He nods, taking your hand to shake it, a small smile on his face. You’re not asking that question out of curiosity. You already knew. He can tell. You’re trying to figure out how to manipulate him into wanting to help you.
Little do you know it’ll require no manipulation at all.
“General Snow was your father, right?” You ask, gazing up at him through your lashes, fluttering them slightly.
Of course you know that, you little minx. He’s sure you’ve done plenty of research.
Coryo nods, gaze moving along your form, the training gear you wear hugging the curves of your body in an enticing way, “Correct. And you?”
“Oh, my family?” You giggle, covering your mouth in an almost dainty way, “Nothing special. We’re just a basic District 1 family. No one too important. Not like you or the Plinths.”
He knows that’s a flirtation attempt. That you’re buttering him up. From where he stands, he can smell your perfume, the way it mixes with your natural scent. It’s almost intoxicating. He takes another step closer to you.
“Shouldn’t you join the others for lunch?”
“I’d rather have lunch with my mentor,” you say, batting your lashes, “Is that allowed, sir?”
A smirk plays at the corner of his lips and he nods, leading you out of the training room, “It is. You know, I do enjoy a bit of respect, but maybe you’d like to call me something a bit more personal.”
“Such as?”
He chuckles, a hand resting on your lower back as he leans in to whisper, “Well, how about my first name? Coriolanus. Do you feel comfortable calling me that?”
“Coriolanus,” you repeat, the word sounding like honey dripping off your tongue to him before you glance up with a tiny little pout, “It’s a pretty name, but it’s so long. Can I just call you Coryo?”
He nods, “Yes. Coryo will be just fine.”
Over the next few days, he grows closer and closer to you, his little mentee. You’re always eager to learn whatever he has to teach you, and you have no issue endearing yourself to the viewers. The two of you make quite the team, he thinks. It doesn’t hurt that you’re fucking adorable. You walk in to train with him, a smile playing on your lips.
“What are you going to mentor little old me in today, Coryo?”
He eyes you up and down, unable to help feeling a bit smitten by you and your innocent demeanor even though he knows it’s all a facade; Coryo takes a moment to clear his throat, holding back the inappropriate noise threatening to come from his mouth before informing you, “Well, we’re going to be practicing some hand to hand combat today. You do know how to fight, right?”
You look up at him, shaking your head as you keep up your act, innocent as ever, “Who, me? Gosh, I’d never wanna hurt anyone…”
“So you beating the crap out of those three girls yesterday was what then?” He counters, giving you a wry smile.
“Aw, we were just playing, Coryo! Just girly things.”
He shakes his head at you affectionately, watching as you bite your lip, “Yeah, I bet you girls get really brutal when you ‘play’, huh?”
“Well, I prefer playing with boys,” you hum, “They’re much sweeter to me.”
And again he feels it. That gnawing sensation in his gut. The jealousy when he thinks of the fact that you’ve got every one of these boys wrapped around your pretty little finger, himself included.
“So I’m going to have to be competing with all the other boys for your attention then?”
He can’t help but smile at your reply, “You are my mentor, Coryo. There’s no competition. I think you know why I flirt with them.”
Coryo nods, “You’re making them think twice before they kill you. The little sweetheart who makes them fall in love.” He chuckles, “Pretty naughty of you.”
You shrug, “If I wanna survive the games, it’s what I gotta do. I mean, I could beat them in hand to hand. But why do it if I don’t have to? Work smarter, not harder.”
“You’re quite the manipulative little girl, aren’t you?” Coryo teases, growing more and more impressed - and infatuated - with you every passing minute.
“I’m eighteen, not so little. We’re the same age,” you tease back, your voice a playful lilt, “But if you want me to be your little girl, I don’t mind.”
Coryo’s throat goes dry, his voice a low rasp as he leans in even closer, feeling your sweet breath tickle his face, “So you want me to treat you like my little girl then?” You nod, lashes fluttering as he stares at you, those doe eyes and that sweet smile, “And how would my little girl like to be treated?”
“Any way Daddy wants to.”
He feels his pants growing uncomfortably tight. That submissive gaze of yours, the sense of possession over you nearly overwhelming him. He needs to protect you, keep you away from the dangers of the world. It’s not a want at this point. It’s a need. And he’s going to make damn sure his pretty little girl survives these games. That she wins. So, the two of you begin training in earnest. And he’s pleasantly surprised by your complete change in attitude, how seriously you take everything he tells you, adjusting your aim, your stance, listening to his tips on how to make the audience like you. You’re really quite intelligent and talented, and the fact that you’re not just using this time to flirt or distract him. It makes him, dare he say it, respect you.
When he asks why you volunteered for the Games, however, your expression grows dark, and he feels as if he’s about to unlock another side of you, “Ben from D1. My fellow tribute. I want to kill him.”
He can sense the anger and hatred you harbor for your fellow tribute, and is almost caught off guard by the bluntness and raw honesty of your answer. But as you explain your reasons, your need for revenge after what he did to you back home, he comes to understand. You tell him you knew you were going to volunteer the moment he was reaped. That it was God or whatever higher power exists giving you a chance for revenge. And when you tell him just what he did to you, he feels the rage inside him building toward Ben too.
“He told everyone at school I begged him for it, when really, I was begging him to stop. To let me go. I want him underneath me in the Arena. I want to hear him beg for his life. And to watch the light leave his eyes when I refuse to listen.”
Coryo wants nothing more than to take away your pain, but he realizes, only you can do that for yourself. He doesn’t think he’s ever been as attracted to another person as he is to you in this moment, both physically and emotionally. And at the drop of a hat, you’re back to your sunny personality, taking him by the hand and declaring that it’s time for dinner, that you’re starving and need to grab something to eat.
He watches you with amazement when the Games begin, the way you manage to outthink and outmaneuver every one of your fellow tributes. The girls you’d bested back on that first day try to rush you, but one by one, you finish them off. This vicious, bloodthirsty side of you is yet another layer of your personality he’s seen. He can’t take his eyes off of you, completely enamored. He watches, amused, at the way you cling to some of the male tributes, convincing them you need their help, only to dispatch them the moment they’re no longer useful to you.
Ruthless. Beautiful. Dangerous.
In the end, it’s down to just you and Ben from District 1. The reason you volunteered in the first place. Coryo watches in terror as Ben manages to stab you in the side, but you keep him pinned to the ground, your teeth gnashing as you ignore what must be excruciating pain.
“Fucking beg me for your life! Do it! Beg me like I begged you, coward!” You snarl, pulling the blade from your side, blood seeping from your wound.
Coryo watches, seeing the intensity, the brutality behind your eyes. Ben tries to punch your stab wound, and you wince from the pain, but then? You let out a laugh. It’s a pretty laugh, musical even, but absolutely terrifying.
“Oh, Ben, it’s gonna take a lot more than that.” You stab the blade he used on you, deep into his chest, “This is in your aorta. I can leave it in and you try to finish me off if you can, and hope the healers get to you in time. That’s if you beg me. But if you don’t? I pull it out and bleed you like the fucking pig you are.”
And he does. He begs, tears falling from his eyes as he pleads for his life. For the chance to fight you again, to win the Games. But you just smirk down at him, leaning in as you rest a hand on his cheek.
“When I begged you to stop, you didn’t. So why should I?”
You pull out the knife, letting him bleed out onto the grass below, winning the Games. Coryo watches you, awestruck. You’ve gotten your revenge. This brutal, sadistic side of you - he doesn’t understand why but it’s so completely alluring.
Soon enough, as the victor, you’re rushed away to have your wounds treated, particularly the nasty stab wound Ben left you with. When you awake, Coryo makes sure he’s at your side, sitting by your bed as your eyes open wearily and you question if you won, voice hoarse from disuse.
He nods, lifting your head gently so that you can drink from the cup of water on the table beside you, “Yes. You won. You were incredible. Brutal and ruthless and,” he murmurs, “So beautiful.”
You feign shyness - or is it truly feigned, he wonders - looking away from him as you bite your lip, “O-oh, you thought it was beautiful?”
He nods, “You were… Amazing.”
Your lips meet his in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth as he caresses your cheeks. Coryo tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. You moan softly against his lips, every small gesture of submission to him, of deference to him turning him on, bringing out a wild, almost animalistic side to the man. However, when he sees the way you wince slightly as he trails his hand along your waist, he pauses, looking at you with concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just a little sore,” you tell him, moving to touch his cheek with your hand, fingertips tracing his jaw, “I don’t mind a little pain with my pleasure, Coryo.”
Your words break something in Coryo, a dam that held the semblance of resistance he held on to. His hands move to your hips, squeezing your soft flesh as he moans against your mouth, tugging off the flimsy gown you wear. Your body has been repaired, every scar, every blemish removed as is the case with every victor. He stares at you in wonder, his hands moving to cup your breasts, squeezing gently. You gaze up at him, lips parted in a silent plea for him to continue touching you as you grind yourself against his cock, achingly hard against his pants. He moves to take one of your tits in his mouth, latching onto one of your nipples, icy blue eyes boring into yours as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub. Every cry of “Coryo”, “Daddy”, “please - they all make him smirk against you as his fingers move to tease your tight, wet pussy, wanting to get you ready to take him. You are so fucking perfect for him. You were made for him. Made to be his.
He pulls away for a moment, loving the way you whine at the loss of contact, only to lock the door and make quick work of his own clothes, leaving both of you entirely bare before each other. Coryo has never felt so desired, so wanted as he does when you move to mouth at his cock, your soft hands cupping his balls, massaging them as you gaze up at him through your lashes with those gorgeous eyes. He gently pushes you back, shaking his head.
“Let Daddy take care of his little girl right now.”
You feel so perfect as he pushes inside you, your tight cunt squeezing around him like a vice. Your teeth sink into your plump lower lip, but he shakes his head, almost scolding you.
“That’s my lip to bite, baby.”
You whimper softly as his lips devour yours in another kiss, his hips slotting against yours at a brutal, relentless pace. He knows now that you were meant for him. Meant to be his sweet little girl. He’s going to make you fully and completely his. After your victory tour, he’s going to make you his pretty little wife. Keep you at home, by his side. All sweet and pretty, his perfect little doll. Pump you full of his cum, breed you like the good little girl you’re meant to be. And he knows you won’t have a problem with it. He knows every part of you, he muses as your fingers knot themselves in his golden curls, your hips bucking up to meet his movements. He knows your sweet side. Your vicious side. Your brutality and your vulnerability. And it’s all going to be his.
“Daddy, I’m close,” you whisper breathily in his ear, his lips moving to your throat as his teeth graze against your skin, “Cum inside me. Fill me up, Daddy.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, his stomach tightening, body going rigid as he feels you squeeze around him, your pussy soaking his cock as you reach your peak, spilling himself inside you moments later. He stays like that for a moment, just staring into your eyes with a small smile on his face, one that you return.
In that moment, there’s no mask. No pretense between the two of you. He sees the real you and you see the real him.
And Coryo knows, with everything he has, that the two of you are going to change the world. The two of you are going to become the very future of Panem.
You, his perfect little girl, his sweetheart, his everything, every part of you now being his.
Sweet and vicious.
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The Best News of Last Week
1. A branch of the flu family tree has died and won't be included in future US vaccines
A type of flu virus that used to sicken people every year hasn't been spotted anywhere on Earth since March 2020. As such, experts have advised that the apparently extinct viruses be removed from next year's flu vaccines.
The now-extinct viruses were a branch of the influenza B family tree known as the Yamagata lineage. Scientists first reported the apparent disappearance of Yamagata viruses in 2021.
2. Hospitals must obtain written consent for pelvic and similar exams, the federal government says
Hospitals must obtain written informed consent from patients before subjecting them to pelvic exams and exams of other sensitive areas — especially if an exam will be done while the patient is unconscious, the federal government said Monday.
New guidance from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services now requires consent for breast, pelvic, prostate and rectal exams for “educational and training purposes” performed by medical students, nurse practitioners or physician assistants.
3. Germany approves new law that will allow adults to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption and store up to 50 grams at home.
Germany's upper house, the Bundesrat, cleared the way to partially legalize cannabis on Friday. Adults aged 18 and over will be allowed to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption.
4. Tick-killing pill shows promising results in human trial | Should it pan out, the pill would be a new weapon against Lyme disease.
Tarsus Pharmaceuticals is developing a pill for humans that could provide protection against the tick-borne disease for several weeks at a time. In February, the Irvine, California–based biotech company announced results from a small, early-stage trial showing that 24 hours after taking the drug, it can kill ticks on people, with the effects lasting for up to 30 days.
5. Thailand moves to legalise same-sex marriage
Thailand has taken a historic step closer to marriage equality after the lower house passed a bill giving legal recognition to same-sex marriage.
It still needs approval from the Senate and royal endorsement to become law but it is widely expected to happen by the end of 2024, making Thailand the only South East Asian country to recognise same-sex unions.
6. French Revolution: Cyclists Now Outnumber Motorists In Paris
Official measurements have found that Paris is rapidly becoming a city of transportation cyclists. In the suburbs, where public transit is less dense, transport by car was found to be the main form of mobility. But for journeys from the outskirts of Paris to the center, the number of cyclists now far exceeds the number of motorists, a huge change from just five years ago.
7. 'Miracle' operation reverses blindness in three-year-old girl giving her 'promising' future
A three year old with a genetic condition that causes blindness is doing incredibly well after unique pioneering operation to restore her sight.
The UK is the only country performing keyhole eye surgery to inject healthy copies of a gene into sufferers’ eyes. It is being used to reverse blindness in children born with a rare condition which means they can only distinguish between light and dark. And it has given little Khadijah Chaudhry, born with Leber congenital amaurosis-4, a chance at seeing properly again.
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Anything VIII (König x Reader)
The 8th instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: No one make any sudden movements. I have returned. Excuse how rusty my writing is.
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension
Warning: Graphic Language
What a sight you must behold.
Sleepless, stressed and on the verge of your breaking point… again.
It was no wonder that Saint watched you with deep concern, no wonder that they held their pen like it was a lifeline rather than just stationary. You wanted them to just understand, you needed them to know that you weren’t insane- everything was so elaborately planned and you were just on the verge of unravelling it.
“Saint,” you rasped, “there are people in on this…. The brass. I think König too. It’s a fuck-fight.”
The doctor leaned back into their chair, eyes never leaving your jittering figure. The sigh that fell from their lips released none of the tension balled tightly in their shoulders.
“Birdy…”
You stood to your feet. You didn’t want to hear it.
You were sick of hearing people say your name in that tone: placatingly, diminishing your thoughts and dismissing you as if you were the local crazy.
Maybe you were the local crazy.
Is that how everybody saw you? Did everybody truly think that you were so off-kilter that you’d hallucinate a coup? You were a victim of assault- not insanity.
“Stop,” Saint put their pen down firmly on the table, drawing your attention back to the situation at hand. “I’m listening. I’m just a little… hesitant. It’s a very serious accusation, Birdy, but I’m not doubting the source.”
You shot the medical officer a knowing glare.
“Oh,” you drawled sarcastically, “because everybody takes me seriously at this unit with my history, right?”
“I don’t give a fuck about whether anybody else takes you seriously,” Saint’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I take you seriously, Birdy.”
The room was doused in tension. Your fingers curled to form tight fists, skin stretching over your knuckles until they turned white. You don’t know why you were angry at their declaration, angry at their loyalty.
Maybe it was because you knew it was misplaced.
Maybe it was because you knew you’d disappoint. “Yeah,” you sighed softly, relaxing your hands as you turned for the door. “That makes one of us.”
_______
The walk to training always held some anxiety but this time it was as if you were drowning in it. Each step felt like a death knell and sudden dryness in your mouth made you want to turn back and run to the safety of your room.
You thought that you were well and truly past this.
Apparently, you couldn’t get past anything.
As you approached the door you were surprised to hear voices. No one ever wanted to interact with König, let alone at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. The room was always booked for the two of you at this time, interruptions were specifically warned against by Price.
It’s just a conversation.
You took in a deep breath. Not everything required a downward spiral, not all mysteries needed investigation.
Literally just a fucking conversation. Get a grip.
You straightened your shoulders as you approached the door and the dialogue became clearer.
“Birdy will be here soon.” König’s voice was as familiar as your own. “You need to leave.”
You pulled up short just before the entrance, frozen like a deer in the headlights. There was a short silence before a soft thud echoed throughout the room. It sounded like a hand being clapped over the shoulder but you weren’t sure. Could have been a punch, could have been a really intense kiss, who fucking knew?
All you knew was that they weren’t meant to be there.
Maybe it was Sunshine.
Although you hated the arrogant fucker, it would relieve you to know it was them. They were inconsequential and, although they were annoying, they wouldn’t be behind your assassination attempt.
Sunshine would have made sure you were in the ground, no matter the cost. Sunshine would have succeeded.
Instead, the voice that rattled in your ears wasn’t your fellow coworker.
“Just be careful. Wouldn’t want to jump the gun, would we?”
Your blood turned to ice.
Graves.
You could almost hear that snake-like grin in his words, you could almost see the look in his eyes that was nothing but predatory. Phillip was charming when he wanted to be, but there was something terrifying about him.
Like a trap lying in wait.
Like a traitor waiting to strike.
The sound of sure and steady footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. Panic flooded your system, kicking your adrenaline into gear. There was nowhere to hide, not even a small nook in this god-forsaken hallway.
As Graves drew closer to discovering your presence, you bounced back a few steps from where you’d been frozen. Throwing your arms above your head as if you were stretching and squinting your eyes with an outrageous yawn was all you could pull together.
Phillip rounded the corner with a cocky sway that made your heart race. You watched him scan your slowly approaching body, seemingly tired and unaware. You acted surprised to see him, carefully schooling your face to return to the usual lifelessness that it held.
“Birdy!” Graves said, slowing his pace. With a flash of teeth, the corner of his mouth pulled upward into a knowing smirk. “Good to see you.”
“I bet,” you said monotonously, adding a dismissive nod at the end like a punctuation mark.
Phillip’s smirk turned into a smile.
“Enjoy your session,” the man said slowly. As he drew closer you could feel your chest tightening. He smelt fresh like he had just gotten out of a long, hot shower. You hated that he was close enough to smell the fucking body wash on his skin.
His shoulder brushed yours as he passed by, setting your body alight with fear. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder as you trekked towards the gym door, eyes firm on that handle. His footsteps still echoed along the hallway by the time that you’d reached the entrance.
“You’re late.”
König’s voice startled you despite making direct eye contact with him.
The man looked disgruntled, to say the least. His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over, and your guess was confirmed when he roughly raked it over once more. König’s eyes were looking anywhere but yours.
“I’m not.” You’d meant for those words to have some bite to them but you couldn’t muster up the venom. Not when he looked like that.
“You are,” he insisted with a snarl.
You raised your hands up in surrender, eyes narrowing at his hostility. The urge to leave grew tenfold and so did your distrust for the man before you. There were too many things that pointed towards his guilt in planning your assassination.
The way he’d tried to blow off your concerns, the vehement way he’d shouted for you to drop it, and now, his interaction with Graves. You thought back to your time in the kitchen when Phillip had first encountered you both.
“Now, who’d have thought that you’d both be so… close.” He had said.
The Shadow had watched with intrigue as König stepped in front of you as if protecting you from him. If you really thought about it, most of his smarminess was aimed at the man beside you, rather than yourself.
You swallowed and choked on your own spit. It was a distant reminder of when it had been your own blood that you’d coughed on.
König’s sigh tore you from your spiralling conspiracies.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. His tone was quiet but his eyes were genuine.
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “No, it’s fine. I get shitty when I deal with Graves, too.”
But why was he with Phillip in the first place?
You wanted to ask him, everything in you pleaded to seek out the truth. You needed to investigate-, you needed to know. Your mouth opened to get the answers you so desperately desired, but a thought made you stop in your tracks.
What if you let on that you were suspicious of him?
It was clear that you were no match against König. Your entire life had become interwoven with his and it felt like he was there in your every waking moment. If he knew that you suspected him, it would only put you in danger again. He’d busted through your bedroom door once and that was enough to tell you that you wouldn’t be safe from him anywhere you went.
You distantly realized that König was watching you carefully from where he stood, jade eyes analyzing every quirk of your lips and every twitch of your brows.
“What?” You said, feigning self-consciousness. “Admiring your handiwork?”
The man shot you a glare and you prayed that was enough to shift his attention.
“I hate it when you say things like that,” he hissed, pulling his jacket down his arms and throwing it aside. “Seriously.”
“Yeah, well I hate having a chopping block for a face.” You tilted your head to shoot him a deadpan look over your shoulder. “Seriously.”
“I cannot deal with you sometimes, Birdy.” König hissed.
“I can tell,” you jerked your thumb towards your marred features.
You knew that you were playing with fire. The way the man stood straight, his gaze narrowing and any sense of banter dissipating from his features, made it very clear that it was time for you to stop pushing that particular button.
“Your attempt at deflecting is not as effective as you may think,” König said, his words slow and deliberate. Jade eyes bore into yours and your breath stuttered in your chest.
You could lie to him, you could play dumb. He was dangerous and if you tipped him off you would be dead by morning.
You couldn’t make sense of that logic, though. If he wanted you dead, you’d well and truly have been dead by now. Your cheeks stung at the thought… you suppose that there wasn’t a lack of trying. Maybe it really had just been a failed attempt.
“Birdy,” the soldier said, shooting a glance at the door. “I know what you are thinking and you need to put a stop to it.”
Those contesting thoughts came to a staggering halt.
“I don’t even know what I’m thinking,” you snapped. “What would you know?”
König raised a brow at your tone, opening his mouth to deliver what you would assume to be an infuriating response. The words choked and fell from his tongue, though. There was a huff as he turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit and closing the door.
You swallowed thickly.
When he swivelled to look at you it was with a burning gaze that pinned you to where you stood.
“You bring attention to us in ways that will get us killed,” König whispered harshly, his accent was sharp and heavy with each enunciation. “You need to stop.”
“Stop what?” You waved your hands at him. “You’re so fucking vague.”
He flinched forward, pushing his finger onto your lips. You smacked his hand away like a cat pawing at something irritating.
“Would you be quiet?” He snarled through gritted teeth. König took in a deep breath, casting another look at the exit. He was watching the light beneath the door, making sure there were no shadows tipping off an eavesdropper. Why was he suddenly the paranoid one?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You lowered your tone but the urgency behind it was still present.
“You need to stop chasing this lead,” König shook his head, gaze imploring. “You need to stop trying to find who planned the accident.”
Your mouth went dry.
“Is that a threat?” The words were a true whisper this time. Barely falling from your lips and only as audible as a soft gasp.
König’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Are you in on it?” You asked, taking a step backward.
Bile roiled in your stomach as if mimicking a stormy sea. There was a distinct buzzing in your ears, numbing you to anything but the situation at hand.
“What?” König repeated. “What? No. That is not what I meant by that.”
You shook your head, “the other day- the way you reacted says otherwise.”
He reached out for your arm and you wonder if it was to comfort you or to detain you. You finched away from him but this time the man before you didn’t yield. He did not back down and he did not allow you the illusion of control.
Instead, König held you firmly by your biceps.
“I need you to listen to me, Birdy. We don’t have time for this back and forth thing that we do every time.”
Rage tore through your chest at his dismissal and you would have told him as much had he not looked so desperate. Instead, you kept your mouth shut as the man watched you pleadingly. You would let him speak because maybe he had the answers you were searching for, maybe König would be the evidence to prove that these suspicions weren’t delusions.
The man cast another glance towards the doorway before letting go of your arms. You straightened cautiously, being mindful to not rub at the skin he’d had contact with.
“Well?” You whispered impatiently, waving a hand at him to continue. “You wanna manhandle me or do you want to talk?”
“It’s not safe for us to talk here,” König’s words were barely audible. “You need to stop with your head-hunting. Stop asking questions.”
His eyes were fierce, warning you not to challenge his demands but you couldn’t care less. He, of all people, had no right to be telling you when to chase answers.
He raised a hand before you could speak. “You are going to get us both killed because you gather intel like a child-”
“What does that even mean?” You interrupted harshly.
“It means you have alerted everyone, Birdy!” König snapped, his voice harsh and his eyes flashing. “Whoever did this knows that you’re onto them. They know that we know.”
You blinked dumbly, stunned.
The man glared at you for a long moment, his chest heaving with laden breaths. The silence that eneveloped you both was anything but empty. There was a buzzing in your ears and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified that he’d confirmed your suspicions. Blind rage filled your lungs as if you were drowning.
“You mother fucker!” You hissed between gritted teeth, shoving at his chest with as much force as you could muster. “You fucking knew?”
“Of course I knew!” König bit back as he stumbled for his footing. “I’ve been trying to find them and you have been hindering me every fucking step of the way, Birdy.”
You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, you wanted to bash this man over and over just like he’d done to you. You weren’t insane but he was more than happy to intimidate you into thinking that you were.
“How could you keep this from me?” Your fingers dug into the skin of his arms as you grabbed him. You wanted to shake the truth from the giant before you, rattle the honesty right from his mouth. “After everything that’s happened!”
König didn’t so much as wince at your nails in his skin, fury simmered in his eyes like molten jade. “I was your main suspect and you outright told me about your suspicions while you were locked in a room with me, Birdy. What would have happened if I was actually everything you make me out to be?”
You swallowed thickly, your fingers loosening their grip.
“I could have killed you right there,” König continued softly, “at this rate you’ll die before you find them.”
“You said I already tipped everyone off,” you rasped, almost meek in tone. “How have they not come for me yet?”
The man rolled his shoulders, shooting another paranoid glance at the door. He continued talking as he scanned the room, searching for telltale signs of a third party.
“Everyone thinks you are disabled, Birdy, no one is taking your concerns seriously.” König straightened, levelling you with an evaluative glare. “But I knew better.”
You drew in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before releasing just like Saint had taught you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought of your therapist. You told them everything- König was right. You’d mouthed off your suspicions knowing that Saint and Price were close. What if Saint had told Price? Then Price would have told Shephard and Simon and then- God.
You’re so fucking stupid.
Of course everyone knew, you’d practically blasted it across the unit’s P.A system.
“What now?” You managed to croak. “What do we do now?”
König frowned at you, his body falling still. “We?”
“You’re not leaving me out of this,” you ground out.
“We are not doing anything together,” he said, eyes roaming over your features quizzically. Your heart lurched desperately, there was no way you’d let him do this without you. You deserved to be a part of this, you deserved to get your justice and whoever did this deserved to die.
“You owe it to me!” You nearly raised your voice, fear trickling down the expanse of your spine. Not a fear of the man before you, but this time it was a fear of being left behind. Left to paranoia, left alone with your thoughts and suspicions and no one to hear them.
König shook his head, “we cannot work together.”
“We have to!”
“We can’t!”
Your eyes were wide and your chest was heaving as the man before you gripped your shoulders. He lowered down to a knee, drawing close enough that you were only a breath apart. You opened your mouth to offer a shaky response but the way his gaze ran over your features stole the words straight from your tongue.
“I will not risk your safety again, Birdy.” König’s words brushed against your lips, warm but sorrowful. “That is what I owe to you.”
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Arthur is courting Merlin. Everyone in the castle knows… except apparently for Merlin.
Arthur gives Merlin a neckerchief. Two days later, he uses it to bandage a new knight’s wound. Arthur picks Merlin flowers and Merlin chops, grinds and boils them into remedies. Arthur tries to take Merlin on a romantic picnic and Merlin packs a crossbow instead of a picnic basket.
It’s driving Arthur insane. He’s so desperate that he’s almost to the point of actually talking to Merlin but he knows he can find the perfect gift to express how much Merlin means to him, he just needs to try harder.
He asks Gwen for advice. He buys Gwaine endless amounts of ale and pumps him for knowledge on Merlin’s likes. He pulls Lancelot aside after training and grills him on everything he knows about Merlin.
It becomes clear that Arthur needs to make a grand gesture. So when Merlin walks into his chambers that night, Arthur blurts out, “I know you have magic and I’m going to repeal the magic ban for you.”
Merlin shrugs his shoulders and nonchalantly says, “That’s nice” without even a thank you.
After preparing Arthur for bed, Merlin goes to the tavern for a celebratory drink. He sits beside Gwaine and helps himself to his jug of ale, ignoring the empty jugs littering the table.
“The Princess is trying to court you, you know?” Gwaine drunkenly slurs into Merlin’s ear, his arm slung across Merlin’s shoulders.
“I know.”
Gwaine looks cross eyed and confused. “But you rejected all his gifts and we all know it’s not because you don’t love him because you’re ass over kettle for him, completely looney—“
Merlin smirks, shrugs his shoulders and admits, “He hasn’t said a word about it. He just keeps throwing gifts at me and ordering me to pack picnics. He’s going to repeal the ban on magic for me and he can’t even say, ‘Merlin I would like to court you.’ Relationships require communication and Arthur needs to be taught how.”
The door to the tavern slams closed. Just inside the door, still in his sleep clothes and wearing his boots on the wrong feet, stands the King, wide-eyed from the sheer insanity of the man he loves.
“Merlin!” Arthur shouts in the suddenly silent tavern. “You absolute menace, fool and love of my miserable life, I would like to court you. Is that all right with you?”
Merlin smiles, takes a drink of his ale and only has time to say, “I suppose” before Arthur drags him back to the privacy of his chambers so they can snog each other senseless.
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