#the snow white colors hehe

[sonderwrit]

Source: 彭小苒 (Peng Xiaoran's personal weibo)

浅尝试一下盛唐鲤歌妆造，你们觉得如何？ "Let's try the Tang Dynasty lige makeup, what do you all think?"

#peng xiaoran #hanfu #cdrama actress #c-ent #the snow white colors hehe

[xxacademy]

Throne of His Own

This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

18+ MDNI !!

Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.

Word count: 10.2k

Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).

a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe

— PART I —

You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.

Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.

The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."

With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.

"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."

Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"

"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."

"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"

"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."

Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks. 

So here I am. 

You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come. 

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.

"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."

You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.

"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.

"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.

"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.

Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold. 

The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.

You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.

As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.

You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.

Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.

There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.

The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.

To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.

He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.

You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.

This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.

"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours. 

You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.

His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.

"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."

"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off." 

Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood. 

You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.

You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin. 

Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.

Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.

He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.

Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.

With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.

"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.

You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.

"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.

"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."

"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"

Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."

"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.

Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.

"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."

"And that's where you came in?"

Leon's face went grave.

"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."

The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear. 

"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."

The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet. 

You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.

He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.

"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."

Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.

"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."

His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. 

"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."

Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly. 

You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.

"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.

"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.

Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.

"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions." 

You nodded.

"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.

Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

It's been a long, long day.

You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you. 

You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake. 

"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.

"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down. 

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room. 

"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."

His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."

You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."

You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas. 

You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.

You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress. 

Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.

After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep. 

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.

You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.

The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.

Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house. 

There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house. 

You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.

One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.

Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.

Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."

He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.

He was just chopping wood.

Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.

Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.

Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood. 

"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.

"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.

You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat." 

Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.

While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead. 

Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.

You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.

You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.

You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook. 

In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you. 

But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.

Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."

He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.

Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day. 

You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed. 

You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours. 

You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity. 

You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.

Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.

You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out. 

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder. 

You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table. 

Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck. 

"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs. 

"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."

Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.

"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.

You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good. 

"How'd it go," you asked between bites. 

"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,

"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout." 

Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"

You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."

You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it. 

But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting. 

Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you. 

Comforting to know there is hope.

You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.

You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.

You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim. 

It's okay. It's okay.

You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.

Just finish the mission.

— PART II —

A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.

You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.

This wasn't you. But a princess.

A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.

Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.

With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.

He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.

He did look nice.

Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.

Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.

"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.

You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.

You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.

Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.

The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.

"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.

You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."

The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.

"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.

Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.

Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.

Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."

As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off. 

Very, very off.

They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.

Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.

This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.

Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.

The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.

You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.

Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."

Leon did not reply to the doorman.

He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.

Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.

You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.

The action sent chills down your spine.

What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?

You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.

Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.

People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.

On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.

Every seat was occupied except for one.

Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.

Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.

Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."

"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"

The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.

Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.

You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.

The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.

You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.

The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.

His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.

You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.

"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.

There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.

Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.

The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.

"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."

The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.

Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.

From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.

Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.

You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.

Your heart raced a little harder.

"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.

"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.

The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.

One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.

Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.

You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.

It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.

It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.

You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.

He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.

He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.

Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.

They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.

He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.

His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.

Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.

You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.

He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.

"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.

You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.

"No."

You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.

The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."

Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.

The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.

Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."

The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."

Thank God.

You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.

They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.

Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.

His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.

You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.

You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.

The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.

His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.

Hunter and hunted.

Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.

The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.

The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.

As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.

In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.

Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.

The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.

There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.

One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."

You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"

Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."

"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.

"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.

"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.

The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.

A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.

You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.

Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.

The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.

It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.

Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."

"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."

You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.

"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.

"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.

Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.

You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.

You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.

It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.

You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.

He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.

But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.

"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.

The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.

As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.

She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.

The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.

Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."

You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"

Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."

"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.

"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.

But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."

"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.

"Unfortunately."

You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.

"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.

"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.

You sighed; there's no point in arguing.

"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."

"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.

"Nope."

Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."

Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.

You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.

Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"

You didn't answer but still struggled.

Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.

"Thank you," you said so very quietly.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"

You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."

Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.

Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.

Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.

His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—

God damn.

Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.

He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.

You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.

You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.

In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.

The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.

Oh well.

You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.

He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.

The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.

Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.

It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.

But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.

You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.

Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.

You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."

Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."

You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.

Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.

"I hope this is enough for you."

"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.

"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."

He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.

"Goodnight to you, too."

In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.

You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?

Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.

"Leon..." You whispered quietly.

"Yes?"

Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"

Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."

He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.

He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.

You replied, "Me neither."

Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.

Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.

Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.

Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.

He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.

You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.

Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.

You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.

You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.

You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.

"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.

You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.

God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.

Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.

Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.

Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.

He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.

"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.

You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.

You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.

His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.

His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.

Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.

From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.

With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.

You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.

"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.

He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.

He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.

Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.

Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.

You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.

Dazed, you whined, "Why."

He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.

Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.

"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.

Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.

The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.

"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."

He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."

"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.

His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.

Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.

His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.

You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.

"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.

He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.

Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.

You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.

"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.

Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.

Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.

She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."

"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.

Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."

"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.

She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.

Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.

You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.

"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.

As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.

The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.

Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.

He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.

You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?

A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.

"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."

Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.

"Thank you," you said sweetly.

The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.

Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.

part two coming soon xx

#thank you for reading <3 #i've been so nervous to post this eek #i hope you like it #academy fics✨ #throne of his own #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic

[soaricarus]

wouahh. slugcat lineup of all my designs hehe. judge on its own though that slugcat is really big oops. im only gonna tag the main rw guys here but otherwise whenever i draw the others theyll have their own tag. ALSO SAINTS DESIGN IS A LITTLE OUTDATED BUT I DIDNT WANNA EDIT IT TO UPDATE IT

gatherer was the first slugcat purposed by sig, sent with a distasteful message - and is also technically hunter's sibling! and so is judge..... but judge's lore is for later.

individuals under cut!!!

survivor is albino i like them :]

just a guy... you couldnt say no to monk's little eyes could you

third sibling! i went really mint on this one i think

nightcat!! a winged purposed messenger. theyre blind because of a bioengineering fuckup and instead rely on tracking iterator signals, which they use their whiskers for.

hunter! uh oh rot and green blood due to green rot.

gatherer! hunter's "technically sibling" and sig's first slugcat. their tail is prehensile :] they're based on an iggy projection slugcat!

gourmand! oh love the her. cherish the her. i love gourmand. she has a little pouch for sluppies! she can fit about 8 or more in that pouch. she's big

artificer, copper/firedancer and phosphore/flashbang! firedancer has green fire and is thusly named copper hehe. not many notes on these guys :o i just really like artificer's design.

rivulet!! teal!! and i hueshifted my original gradient a bit to fit this. i like them a lot

speam and laceweaver! laceweaver was a spearmaster prototype that suns kept. laceweaver mentored spearmaster alongside another prototype i haven't designed yet. the others.... didn't make it. suns didn't send the gold pearl for me! thats something pebbles made himself. i did alter downpour a lot because there's some things i don't particularly like and downpour is only really an au thats adding onto canon. dont get me wrong i like it but uh oh ramble i'll get into that if prompted

(darker colors are used for the more echo-y saint doodles; the whites are just colors i use for snow) saint! though i've altered the tail pattern design a bit though, usually it's more like this when i draw it.

though this design is also a bit more echo-y but the tail pattern is the same regardless. also the wings uhoh i need to redo a ref for saint

(the dark brown is used for the scars with dodge layers of the same color ontop)

inv- or "the vestige! um. they bleed void fluid. thats why they have those scars. this is canon to my askblog. im working on the lore rewrite we'll get there soon

#rain world #rain world downpour #rw survivor #survivor #rw monk #monk #rw hunter #hunter #rw nightcat #nightcat #rw gourmand #gourmand #rw artificer #artificer #rw rivulet #rivulet #rw spearmaster #spearmaster #rw saint #saint #rw inv #inv #[my art]

[tom-holland-stuff]

Displeasing Encounters & Passionate Debates // Chapter 1

My Masterlist

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 + mood-board // Chapter 3 //

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Summery: After returning form district 12 Coriolanus snow has had everything handed to him on a silver platter. Wealth, status, power, he has got it all. What happens when he discovers that Dr Gaul, his mentor, has taken on a new assistant.

Warning: SFW - for now. (let me know if i forgot any)

A/N: Hey Hey, so this is my first time writing for Coryo. I Have heaps of ideas for where this could go and also ideas for other fics but i'm 1000% open to any suggestions, ideas or even just a chat. DM me or drop in my ask box. Chapter 2 is already in the works hehe

Word Count: 1.7K

The citadel is a cold place. Most may find it unwelcoming, but Coriolanus considers it the opposite; he feels as if he belongs there, like a snowflake in a snowstorm. The white walls seamlessly connect to the marble floor, creating a stark, pristine atmosphere.

Coryo's expensive boots click against the sleek marble floor as he walks through the empty halls. His posture exudes confidence, his chin held high, and his shoulders squared. To those below him, he appears to be looking down with disdain—a smirk playing at his lips.

He is here on business, he must maintain a professional appearance, though he always carries an air of superiority. Today, he's meeting with his mentor, Dr. Gaul. 

After returning to the capital from his stint as a peacekeeper in District Twelve, Coriolanus has thrown himself into university life. Under the tutelage of the Plinths, he's risen in the elitist circles of the capital, becoming somewhat of a hotshot. On a more sour note, along with his new found wealth and status has come the form of a rift between himself and his dear cousin Tigirs, which became very evident this morning in the nature of a disagreement regarding his ever growing likeness to his father. This argument really set a displeasing tone for Coriolanus's day to follow. However, he has far too much to deal with nowadays, and can’t afford to let these spats occupy his thoughts.

Moving on, in addition to his growing popularity, he has secured the likes of the infamous (and slightly psychotic) Dr Gaul. 

After Coryo’s return from 12 the unhinged professor took him under her wing as his mentor and has not only supplied him with an incredible internship to become an gamemaker, but also the promise of becoming one of the greatest minds Panem has seen 

(maybe even a potential political figure one day…)

Perks of having Gaul as a mentor allow Coriolanus to secure one on one meetings or ‘tutoring sessions’ as she likes to call them. Which is where he finds himself on his way to now. 

Navigating the halls with ease, he makes his way to the wing of the building housing Dr. Gaul's lab. Typically, their meetings occur in her office, either at the university or in the citadel. However, due to the last-minute nature of this meeting regarding an assignment, Coryo finds himself summoned to the citadel.

As Coriolanus approaches the door to the lab, he hears someone clear their throat. Turning to his right, a dark wooden table occupies that space, its glossy top covered in neatly stacked folders and paper. He notes to himself how odd it is that he has never noticed this ‘receptionist desks of sorts’ before. 

Coryo is a selfish person, he knows that. He never really worries about anyone other than himself, or more so tries not to, maybe that’s why he has never noticed this space before, or noticed her. 

Seated at the table is a girl who looks to be around his age. She's clad in a fitted gray suit vest with a white button up shirt underneath. A red tie fits loosely around her neck, the deep blood color stands out against the dull accents of her outfit. 

She sits elegantly in her chair, her shoulders straight and poised, her hands clasped softly in front of her. He would have maybe described her as attractive if it wasn’t for the clear expression of displeasure displayed across her face.

Observing her, Coryo determines her demeanor screams entitled and... well, he refrains from using other such derogatory terms, but the sentiment remains. 

His nose wrinkles in disgust at her apparent lack of recognition, but before he can bring himself to think of more unpleasant descriptions of the lady in front of him, she speaks. 

"Name?" she prompts plainly, sitting up a bit straighter (if that was even possible), locking eyes with him.

Her gaze is sharp, her eyes feline like, piercing into his crystal blue ones. 

"Pardon?" He responds incredulously, matching her rigidness.

He takes a step closer to the desk. His strong frame towers over her, casting a shadow on the desk. His being exudes authority and importance, but the girl does not falter. 

Her eyes never leaving his, she states again.

“Name” her tone is almost challenging but her expression remains firm.

Coryo folds his arms across his chest. His embryos scrunch together slightly in annoyance because, who doesn't know who Coriolanus Snow is!

His thoughts are once again interrupted by the girl at the desk.

“Do you have a name?” she states more so than asks. Tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, only then does her gaze leave his as she slowly looks him up and down, sizing him up

Before she has another opportunity to repeat herself, he gives her an answer.

 "Snow," he states curtly. His response prompting her to meet his gaze once more.

“Coriolanus Snow” He reaffirms in an attempt to prevent her from having to ask him anything further, but unfortunately his effort is ill as she presses further.

“Are you sure?” the corners of her mouth pull into a small smirk as she questions him or challenges him, he is unsure. However, he is certain about his displeasure with this conversation. 

He uncrosses his arms and places them on the edge of the table. His face morphing into a scowl. “I have a meeting with Dr Gaul…” he states bluntly.

 “...so if you don’t mind, I shall see to that now, and you can resume with what I'm sure is a very… important task that you do.” He states, sarcasm dripping from his words. 

Without waiting to see the offended expression that was no doubt about to take over the girl’s face, he turns back towards the entrance to the lab taking heavily determined steps towards his desired destination. His smirk wider to himself, triumphant as having now ended that distasteful interaction that has consequently wound him up.

“Interesting Dr. Gaul wishes to spend her time with someone so daft they can’t even remember their own name”.  

He whips around fast on his heel, his smirk immediately replaced by a furious scowl. Coryo's eyes narrow, his gaze burning in her direction. 

She is standing now, almost mimicking his previous position, arms placed strongly on either side of the desk and her face adorned with a smirk that slowly morphs into a wicked smile, obviously satisfied with his visible reaction.

His whole body is tense, his chest is heaving in anger… no, 

Rage.

Who does this bitch think she is? 

He is usually one to have a lot more control over himself and would never allow his emotions to cause him to react so out of pocket like this, well at least not in this environment. But after having to deal with one nuisance after the other, all restraint has gone out the window. 

As Coriolanus prepares to give the girl a piece of his mind and unleash his frustration, he is  interrupted… again.

This time by the creaking sound of two heavy doors behind him, followed by the distinct click of heeled shoes. He halts in his tracks, watching the girl at the desk almost instantly return her seat at the desk, with her hands placed neatly in her lap. Her once devilish expression now replaced by the sweetest of smiles accompanied innocent, doe-like eyes that stare in the direction behind him. 

He looks over his shoulder to find Dr. Gaul exiting the lab, catching them in this tense interaction. 

No. 

Catching HIM. 

His previous ‘opponent’ now looks as if she would never even hurt a fly let alone be involved in an uncivil argument of sorts, and well… let’s just say it's definitely not a good look for him.

He quickly straightens himself and turns to face his mentor, while silently acknowledging himself how the sudden change in the girl's demeanor was slightly impressive.

His posture exudes professionalism, contrasting the state he was just found in.

Dr. Gaul's voice fills the silence as she addresses Coriolanus.

“Ah Mr. Snow, it seems you have already had the pleasure of meeting y/n, my newest addition” she says teasingly. 

He puts on a slight smile as an acknowledgement to her words, but Coryo would have called it anything but a pleasure.

“Both young great minds.” she says outwardly, directed neither of them in particular. Almost as if she was simply verbalising a thought.

Dr Gaul then steps slightly to the side, signalling for Coriolanus to follow her into the lab. 

As he begins to walk, Dr. Gaul holds the door and continues to talk, this time addressing him but speaking loud enough for y/n to hear.  

“Don’t be giving our sweet y/n any grief, hmm?” She teases. 

Sweet? 

Coriolanus finds the use of the word odd, not only because he completely disagrees with it as an appropriate description for the girl… y/n, but also because it's not a word that seems natural being used by his unhinged professor.

Coriolanus looks over his shoulder catching a glimpse of y/n as Dr Gaul begins to close the doors behind them. Gaul takes his shift in attention as an opportunity to add to her previous statement.

“We Wouldn’t want her to get caught up in one of your… Passionate debates” she smirks knowingly.

Coriolanus feels his cheeks flush, caught off guard by such an insinuating statement. Disgusted and embarrassed by his own involuntary reaction, he turns his head back in the direction he is walking, but not before catching a glimpse of y/n. She was still seated at her desk, with poised and perfect posture, but her face held a new expression. An expression Coriolanus did not have the previous pleasure of witnessing. 

Her eyes had gone wide and her mouth was slightly held open in surprise. Her face had turned a soft shade of pink, the flush of her cheeks matching his own.

That's all he is able to note before Dr Gaul shuts the doors completely behind them. She walks swiftly in front of Coriolanus and he follows quickly in toe.

“Something tells me you two will get along quite well” She chuckles to herself but Coriolanus couldn’t have disagreed more.

A/N: Sooooooo what did we think?? i tried my best so if there were spelling or grammar mistakes i'm so sorry!! i checked it so much it pained me hahahah. Also i don't give permission for my work to be posted without credit or whatever.

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook’s tattoos cure your winter blues and you paint his life with colors.

> fluff / wc: 2.3k

> warnings: brief mention of mother gothel being an abusive gaslighter lol you’ll seeeee, one (1) nipple pinch

note: reblogged this post with the tattoos mentioned in the drabble so you can check those out for better visualization if you want !! :D

my first post of year being about jungkook’s tattoos only feels right. hehe feedback is always appreciated <3

—

you breathe out another sigh as your peripheral vision catches the view of snow falling from the heavens yet again. you’re lying on the floor with a pillow and a blanket, only a few feet away from the glass door dividing the balcony and the living room.

“a penny for your thoughts?”

you tilt your head to peek through the book you’re reading. “what?”

“you’ve been sighing and pouting.” jungkook points out from the couch, dedicated to the task of folding the fresh laundry. two stacks of clothes, separated by yours and his, are sitting on his right, while the laundry basket is on his left.

“. . . and your octopus is mad.” referring to that famous reversible octopus plushie you bought for fun many months ago. it’s sitting behind your pillow, color blue and stitched with a displeased expression.

you lay down the book over your chest before sighing deeply. “i feel sad. i miss summer.”

your confession makes him quirk a curious eyebrow. “you miss summer? but you hate summer.”

unsure about how to explain yourself, you stick with silence, eyeing him intently with a frown you don’t even realize you’re making.

“what’s that look for?” he chuckles nervously while clutching a pair of your pajama shorts to his chest.

“you’re wearing a sweater.”

as if on cue, he looks down at the cream-colored sweater embracing his torso. “and? you got this for me.”

“it’s the reason i’m missing summer!” you sit up abruptly, the book stumbling over your lap before it finally lands on the floor. and before you can rethink the words you’ve been whining non-stop inside your head, they break free from the restraints on your tongue. “i miss seeing your tattoos.”

an amused grin paints his face. he throws his head back with his eyes closed and nose scrunched, laughing with no sound as he processes your revelation.

“that’s what this is about?”

“. . . yes.” you answer hesitantly, realizing how you just dug yourself a grave and pushed yourself in it.

he tuts as he tucks his long hair behind his ears, crossing his legs and stretching his tattooed arm on top of the couch’s backrest. you catch the tail of his snake tattoo peeking out of the sweater’s sleeve.

what an evil, sexy, sexy man.

“it’s your fault. you won’t let me turn up the heating so i’m always cold.”

“i woke up sweating yesterday when you turned it up again. this is a house, not a sauna.”

“and you make it too cold!” he interjects with a laugh. “want to meet halfway?”

it seems that the deal he just offered is the only possible solution to your winter blues. the holidays have come and gone. the decorations and lights are already being taken down, and you can’t stand to live a colorless life.

you act defeated, feigning your eagerness, but he doesn’t miss the small smile forming on your face. “fiiine.”

“okay!” he enthusiastically responds with that satisfied grin he makes when he gets his way.

he doesn’t waste any time. he instantly goes to adjust the temperature inside the house, going exactly between the numbers you stubbornly punch in behind each other’s backs. forced to come out of your little cocoon, you rip away the blanket from your body and toss it aside.

“i’ll get rid of the sweater now.” he clicks his tongue and sends a teasing wink your way as he walks to your shared bedroom.

you groan, burying your flustered face in the palm of your hands to hide. “i hate you sometimes.”

his melodic laughter echoes in the hallway.

—

jungkook enters the walk-in closet to replace the sweater with a classic white sleeveless shirt. on sunny days, he often wears this or go shirtless in your home. you’ve been especially happy with that since summer last year— after he got his faded tattoos colored, redesigned, and covered up.

of course, you’ve always shown plenty admiration to his first tattoos and the many more that came after them. he gradually filled up the space on his right arm with the ink and formed a tattoo sleeve. however, his new and improved tattoos seem to bring you a special kind of joy he must admit he doesn’t fully understand.

he’s been planning to get his arm fixed since he noticed the tattoos starting to fade, but he struggled to find the time to finalize his design ideas and get the job done. the truth is you were the one who inspired him to quit overthinking every little detail, and to finally carry on with his long overdue plans.

it all started with his birth flower.

—

“all those days watching from the windows, all those years outside looking in~” you sung along softly to tangled’s most beloved song.

jungkook diverted his attention from the television to observe you, unconsciously smiling to himself as he did so. your legs were draped over his lap, and your back was hunched forward as you entertained yourself with coloring his tiger lily tattoo as if it was a page on a coloring book.

it was seven minutes past midnight, and you like the room as dark as possible when you do movie date nights. that’s why you were practically using the lanterns during rapunzel and flynn rider’s ‘i see the light’ as your own lights of guidance as well.

when you paused the movie just before the song started, he thought you were just going to use the bathroom. but you quickly came back with the box of temporary tattoo markers he forgot that even existed. he bought it years ago and used the black marker to figure out the placements of his hand tattoos because he was scared that he’d end up not liking how they looked together. honestly, he doesn’t even remember packing it when he moved in with you. were you the one who saved it from the discard pile?

and as you held his arm close to you, you innocently asked him. “may i?”

“do whatever you want, baby.” he gave permission not only because your bewitching eyes were sparkling, but also because he knew how you find joy in doing little things like this.

you were most probably inspired by the sundrop flower mother gothel stole, he thought as he watched you bring his birth flower to life. you colored the anthers dark brown, and you were already halfway done with the orange petals.

he noticed that you kept on trying to move your head closer to his arm so you could see the details of his tattoo better, which caused your glasses to often slide down your nose bridge, so he took it upon himself to hang it suspended in the air to make things easier for you.

that was until you slapped his wrist lightly. “put it down. your arm will get sore.”

and he dropped it back down.

“thanks, baby boy.”

the pet name made him blush profusely, the rose tint that adorned the apple of his cheeks concealed by the light from the television screen reflecting on his face. its effect on him, never changing, because you only utter it occasionally and it catches him off guard every damn time.

when she successfully brought rapunzel back to the tower, you brought up how mother gothel is one of scariest disney villains for her realistic portrayal of an abusive gaslighter posing as a loving mother. jungkook didn’t even realize that you were still watching the movie. and then you obstructed his vision with the box of markers to briefly steal his attention away from the screen.

“pick two colors.”

“hmm, red and blue.”

“i’m doing this one next.” you pointed at the ‘WINNERS NEVER QUIT’ tattoo above the crease of his forearm. “should i use the colors interchangeably or like make a gradient?”

“gradient.” he responded, yawning sleepily right after.

“i sound like a real artist, don’t i?” you asked with a toothy grin.

“you are one. this looks pretty, love.” he talked about the tiger lily, stretching his forearm towards the television to shine light over it. “when did you get a glitter pen?”

you waved the gold glitter pen with a giggle. you used it to make the flower look like it was radiating magical star dust. “i brought it with the markers.”

and that’s when he decided to finally contact the tattoo artist he’s been meaning to meet up with since the year prior. you made him see the element of art that his tattoos dangerously lacked. colors.

if there was anyone on earth who would be able to open his eyes to that, it only made sense that it would be you.

—

“you finished showering?” you peeked into the walk-in closet, excitedly skipping your way to jungkook. he was standing infront of his underwear cabinet, fresh from the shower and only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.

he chuckled straight away when he noticed you holding the tube of ointment. “wait. let me put on my boxers first.”

“okaaay.”

you eagerly waited for him on the bench from the other side of the small room. he swiftly slid on a pair of black boxers and sat next to you, offering his arm for your therapeutic indulgence. ever since jungkook started getting his cover-ups done, you already made it part of your routine to apply the prescribed ointment on his healing tattoos throughout the day.

some people meditate, some people solve puzzles. you? you sit down and take your sweet time admiring the glorious pieces of art inked on your boyfriend’s skin.

“they’re so itchy. i want to scratch.” he spoke through gritted teeth as you applied a thin layer of the ointment on top of the tattoos on the outside of his forearm.

“i’m practically scratching them, you know?”

you cautiously swiped your fingers across his ‘RATHER BE DEAD THAN COOL’ and ‘MAKE HAY WHILE THE SUN SHINES’ tattoos, connected by the letter T like they were the answers to a crossword puzzle. they were enhanced by giving them colored shadows: the former’s is red, and the latter blue. and because the letter T completes both tattoos, they mixed the two colors and gave it a purple shadow. oh god, it scratches your brain just right every time you see them. you love yourself some color theory.

the ones on the inside are almost completely healed, you’ve been through the itchiness and peeling off phase with them already. it never gets easier no matter how many times he has experienced it, always complaining about the itchy phase being worse than the pain of getting poked with the needles.

“no, you’re not. you’re so gentle that i feel like i’m being tickled. it makes it worse.” he cried out in frustration, head falling on your shoulder as he fought the excruciating urge to scratch his skin.

“so you want me to be rough and infect you?”

“. . . no.” his awkward voice came out muffled against your neck. “it actually makes me feel nice. like, inside my heart. thank you.”

—

“are you happy now, baby?”

jungkook’s mellifluous voice steals your focus from the purple sweater you’re folding over the table. he towers over you with his naked muscular arms crossed infront of his chest— the ravishing view you’ve dearly missed makes your lips slowly curve into a shy smile.

gone is the melancholia that visibly weighed you down, replaced by an aura he can only describe as the sunrise, but even the sunrise would hang its head in shame if challenged by your beauty and grace.

dear god, he wants to spend the rest of his waking days making you happy and learning what it means to be alive from the look on your face.

“very much.” you loop your hands around his forearms, and with a playful roll of his eyes, he lets you pull his weight down to the couch.

“you folded the rest of the clothes? how are you so fast?”

you reward his tattooed shoulder with lingering kisses before caging his face in your hands to give his lips a rather chaste one.

“i did. that’s the last one.” you pout at the direction of the sweater.

being your boyfriend’s diligent self, he scoots forward to fold it, excited to tick off the task of folding laundry from his to-do list. you seize this opportunity to trace the blue ‘BulletProof’ under his elbow, still finding the font super cool despite seeing it almost (fuck winter) everyday. knowing this all too well, jungkook smiles at the feeling of your delicate fingers caressing his skin. it’s almost as if you’re scared you could possibly erase the ink needled under it.

after carrying each of your own pile of folded clothes to the closet, jungkook voices out the idea that popped in his mind when he was changing his top. “let’s watch rapunzel. i’m in the mood for a disney movie today.”

you fail to bottle up a giggle, finding his little mistake so heartwarmingly endearing. “sure. but babe, the movie is called tangled.”

his doe eyes widen comically as if he was struck by headlights in the middle of the night. “that’s what i said!”

you lightly pinch his nipple. “you liar!”

“. . . was that supposed to be a punishment?”

you blink. “yes.”

his mischievous smile tells you everything that you need to know. “i said tangled the first time! cross my heart!”

“not gonna work anymore.” you stick your tongue out playfully, picking up the octopus plushie beside you and turning it inside out to reveal its yellow smiling face.

it’s his turn to sigh dramatically today.

as he starts typing ‘tangled’ on the television using the remote control, he mumbles to himself. “it was a nice try.”

—

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[moonlightdreamzz]

baby, it’s cold outside

in the midst of an intense snow storm you and sunwoo are trapped in tbz’s dorm together, giving you two nothing but time to talk about any and everything - including his feelings for you.

pairing: sunwoo x black!fem!reader

g: very fluffy!! with slight angst. and slight smut at the end. hehe.

sigh. how did you not know that it was going to snow today? specifically the winter storm you had a front-row seat to, courtesy of sunwoo’s gigantic window that allowed you the perfect view of city.

the wind is blowing hard, forcing the white flakes to move around in a hectic manner. the streets are already beginning to go from black to white, all in thirty minutes. you had so many plans tonight, for one, not being stuck sleeping on sunwoo’s couch. you were separated from your bed by miles in the double digits, yet you could still hear it calling your name in desperation.

“you know,” sunwoo interrupts your thoughts. he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since the moment he realized you wouldn’t see or feel them burning holes into you. “staring at it isn’t going to make the storm pass by any faster.” he chuckles.

you were so precious, and you weren’t even trying. you never tried. everything about you was so effortlessly beautiful. he can’t lie - he’s a little hurt that you don’t seem ecstatic about being trapped in here with him, but what could he say? you weren’t his girl; he just wanted you to be. even so, his heart can’t but feel drained in his chest—as if it was tired for beating for you.

he had learned a long time ago that he needed to embrace your relationship for what it was instead of mourning what he felt it should be. you were his best friend, and he was yours. the two of you had an uncanny amount of things in common, but even in your differences did you two manage to grow together.

it has to be freezing outside with the number of layers you have on. your outfit consists of all black, minus the fuzzy beanie you sport on your head and your signature brown uggs. your hat is a jade green, a color the two of you agreed a long time ago was yours to own forever.

"i might as well take all of this off, hm?" you chuckle in subtle disappointment. your hat goes first. you swiftly toss it to sunwoo, knowing he will catch it with ease and he does. next is your coat, followed by your hoodie that you added for extra protection, and lastly your boots.

"don't sound so excited." sunwoo can't help but mock. he takes all of your belongings to the main closet, which was to the right when you stepped into the dorm. he didn't even have to press his nose to it to smell the sweet, yet citrus scent that always lingered on your soft skin. sometimes, he truly believed that you weren't real—that you had to be an angel on a secret mission to bring comfort to others on earth. to him.

meeting you was a complete accident. a beautiful one, but an accident all the same. he had relived the day in his dreams so many times and he could never forget not even the smallest detail when telling the story to another.

it was backstage at music bank, and sunwoo was in a hurry to get back his dressing room as the boyz were up next to perform. the only problem was, he had completely forgotten how he found the bathroom, and where the bathroom was in conjunction to his dressing room. he was drinking water as he frantically ran around—receiving all kinds of odd stares from stylists and idols, but he didn't care. thinking he may have found his way, he turned the corner sharply only to bump into you. his water bottle completely tipped over; spilling all over your shirt and pants.

God had to be on his side, right? i mean, what are the chances that the first time he’s seen you in awhile due to his hectic schedule, a snowstorm says … surprise!

what are the chances of this being the one time sunwoo didn’t go to practice, meaning no one was in this dorm except you and him. the members were currently stuck at cre.ker, and he could tell they were not happy about it the way the his phone has been vibrating aggressively, non-stop since you got here.

“thank you.” you are still standing near the window, and sunwoo can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“you know you can sit right? why are you acting like this is our first time meeting? we’re best friends, big head.”

your infectious laugh begins to fill the dorm, so much so that for a second sunwoo’s forgets that it’s only the two of you in here. he can’t help but smirk at you. inside, he was smiling, but he could never do that for you. if he looked at you with the power of what he felt for you, his secret would be blown.

“sunwoo.” you’re snapping in his direction repeatedly, and now he’s embarrassed. he was always in a daze when you were around.

“you were not calling me.” he defends quickly.

“i absolutely was, big head.” you mock as you plop down on the couch, swinging both your legs over and closing your eyes. “but I’m not surprised. you never listen to me.”

you loved to offend him. “i always listen to you.” he confesses. there had to be some type of poison in the snow. his usual tough exterior was softening and you had only been here for thirty minutes. yes, your gorgeous features were enough to make any man or woman drop at first sight, but sunwoo had trained himself well. his number was rule was to never show you too much emotion—well, at the least not the kind that would lead you to believe he was in love with you.

“you tired?” he questions from his position on the floor. his legs are crossed as he holds his weight in the palm of his hands.

“more like over it.” you sigh, “but I came over here to see you. I’ve missed you. we’ve both been so busy, but i still feel like the worse friend ever.”

“you’re the farthest from a bad friend. why would you even say that?”

“what type of best friend ghosts her own?”

although you couldn’t help your coping mechanism, that didn’t mean you didn’t feel horrible about it. especially with sunwoo considering he was your ride or die. he deserved better from you.

“we all have bad days y/n. shit, bad weeks, bad months. as your best friend,” sunwoo rises off the floor to rest beside you on the cozy couch. he could see in the way you loss focus on the conversation that you were reminiscing on false memories. “it’s my job to understand you, and know that you don’t hate me or anything when you go quiet sometimes. i know that’s just how y/n is.” he hits your knee affectionately.

he looks up at you now, even though it makes him feel nauseous. you feel even worse. you hated making eye contact with others, especially him. you can’t speak. his sultry eyes have always had the ability to put you in a trance. you’re trying to find the words to respond to him, but it’s like you can’t move.

the way you always get lost in his eyes would make any one else brag, but sunwoo never allowed his ego to be too inflated by it because he knew it had nothing to do with you sharing his feelings.

“how many times have I sucked as a friend? hm?” he speaks once more.

“never.” you gasp in offense. “can you be a meany sometimes? absolutely. but sunwoo,” you grab his already sweaty hand, and he can’t help but feel itchy all over. this was another quirk of yours—your affectionate nature. he knew he would never be able to adjust to it, though. “you are always there for me. all those nights I was calling you to rant about chris…I know you were so damn tired of my ass, but you answered every-time. you can’t say the same about me.”

he was so happy listening to you talk before you mentioned your dickhead of an ex boyfriend.

he never liked bangchan. you and sunwoo had both agreed a long time ago that he had the ability to read people, and he usually wasn’t wrong, but because he loved you so much he wanted to be wrong about the guy. you looked at him with those doe googly eyes of yours. all you did was text him, stay on the phone all night with him, and all the other stuff that sunwoo wished you did with him instead.

he genuinely thought he was going mad, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. even the members thought he was crazy.

“tell me he doesn’t throw you off.”

“listen, I don’t know the guy, sunwoo.” kevin sang politely. “he seems like he could go 50/50. he’s either the best person in the world, or the worst.”

“kevin!” sunwoo yells, stopping him and jacob in their tracks.

“sunwoo!” they yell back in unison.

“50/50? this is y/n we’re talking about right now. like, our y/n? the one near and dear to our hearts? the—

“one you’re in love with?” jacob interrupts with a smirk, not able to harbor even the tiniest bit of irritation towards his member in this moment.

sunwoo is the one haulting now. “what?”

well, they were right. kind of. he came to realize his deep angst towards you and your australian lover was partly due to the fact that he was jealous and in love with you, but he still was completely right about bangchan. he was every distasteful thing sunwoo knew him to be. and he had completely shattered your heart. you—his angel’s heart.

“you aren’t talking to him again, are you?” sunwoo whispers. his right leg begins to tap in anticipation. he loves you to pieces, but you had this weird habit of giving some of the worst people second chances.

“of course not.” you laugh out loud.

phew.

“after cheating on me, and barely being remorseful, fuck him.” you raise a middle finger in the air for good measure.

“i’m just sorry you had to go through that. you didn’t deserve it. you didn’t deserve any of it. the inconsistent behavior, the ghosting and coming back, him fucking on girls that could never even compare to you. he never deserved you.”

sunwoo wants to say more. he wants to go on and on about how lame he is. but he knows you, and he knows that if you want to talk about it you will. plus, he was out of your life now. sunwoo wasn’t going to let any of his energy back in.

your heart feels comforted, yet sore from sunwoo’s caring words. he always gassed you up, on your good days and bad. if someone was going to remind you of your worth, you could count on him. but even his kind words couldn’t make you feel better about your sometimes terrible taste in lovers.

“thank you.” you mutter, breaking eye contact with him finally. “you know, the same can be said about you and yoona.”

oh, yoona. just like sunwoo never liked bangchan, you never liked her. probably because she made it clear she didn’t like you, but everyone always tried to convince you that you were just upset that you had finally been replaced. you never understood the jabs, because you and sunwoo had never dated. he never has had feelings for you.

how do you know that? was always the question. and you’d always have the same answer.

“because when sunwoo wants a girl, he gets her.

was sunwoo really good to you? yes. was he always there when you needed him? of course. but what was a true bestfriend if they did not have these characteristics? you were so thankful to sunwoo, because he’s the closest thing you’ve ever had to knowing what love should feel like. the sweet words, feeling genuinely encouraged no matter what you are about to face, the little gifts that reminded him of you.

“yoona,” he chuckles, reminiscing on how genuinely insane she was. he liked it though. maybe because his down right shameful attempts to show you how he felt about you never gained him anything, so when she was so crazy in love with him, it felt rewarding. you hated her though. shit, he did too…kind of? it was toxic as fuck.

sunwoo has a history of toxic relationships. you always tell him he deserves better. he always wanted to say you were the only better he would accept. that whether a girl was sane or insane, the toxicity would never end because he would be in a relationship while in love with another person. he wanted to emphasize the fact that it wouldn’t be fair to his lover because it could be the day of his wedding day—if you ever even uttered something along the lines of “I want to be with you”, he would run away with you without thinking twice.

but instead he always settled for a plain “mhm.”

“you remember when I was busy practicing for kingdom?” he begins, barely being able to hold in his contagious laughter.

your eyes go to the back of your head immediately as you recall the story he was about to tell. you also realize that you are still holding his hand, so you swiftly let go as you try to get comfortable on the couch. now your palms are sweating. sunwoo has the softest hands in the world. the anxiety you did not realize you had been harboring in your belly has dissolved.

sunwoo’s heart stings when you pull away, but he’s used to the feeling. “don’t roll your eyes at me.” he teases somberly. “a wise woman once told me that you have to laugh through the pain.”

“finish your story.” you roll your eyes again, but this time with that beautiful smile of yours fighting to hide.

he laughs a couple more times before finishing. “and she went through the building asking every single person, even the trainee’s where I was. so fucking embarrassing.” he face plants. maybe he can laugh so hard because she was long gone. or maybe he needed help. regardless, the story was worth telling again because even you are laughing now.

“cheers.” you announce, faking as if you have a shot glass in your hand.

“cheers, but for what?” sunwoo questions.

“to us both being best friends, and having the worst taste in lovers.”

“less talk about them, and more talk about you.”

“it shouldn’t be just about me. i mean, I am in your home.” you sing.

“well i don’t want to talk about just me.”

“so let’s talk about us.” you say, not even realizing what those words did to sunwoo. he was doing so damn good. you were attempting to hypnotize him with those beautiful features of yours. your plump lips, your beautiful melanated skin, your pretty brown eyes, your enchanting smile, and your beautiful braids that had recently got redone.

“I like your hair.” he whispers. fuck it. if you two were stuck in here all night together, he was bound to fall in love with you all over again anyways.

“do I look good, mr. armstrong?” you quote, throwing your braids over your shoulders with all the confidence in the world resting on your finger tips.

he wants to tell you that you are the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen, but once again he refrains and settles for a sly smirk instead.

“oh-“ you sit up promptly, inching your face closer to his, “I asked you a question.” you tease.

he hates how much he loves you. he hates how nervous you make him.

now there’s a silence. it’s peaceful, yet so many things can be heard. even through the storm there are cars on the road trying to get to their destination—honking and swerving along the way. he can hear the heat blowing throughout the dorm. sunwoo can also hear you breathing. he can tell you are relaxed, and yes, you are still so close to his face.

“i’m not moving away until you say yes.” you breathe right on his earlobe.

“then I guess you’ll be sitting right here all day.”

he could barely get that out without choking.

you begin to nod your head before speaking, “okay…I see how it’s gonna be tonight. you’re being tough on me, even though I drove all the way over here just to see you—keep in mind that time you spilled water all over my outfit at music bank.”

he’s smiling now. he’s fucking smiling because like he mentioned before, this was his favorite story to tell.

“it was an accident.”

“then why do you look like you’re about to bust out laughing, sunwoo.” you punch his arm lightly, like a child, and he breaks.

sunwoo always said he loves your laugh, but his was even more infectious. maybe it was because seeing him genuinely find something funny was a rare sight, or maybe…you didn’t know what that other maybe was. you knew you would do anything to see him laugh though.

“oh my God.” is all he can get out, still trying to calm down from his laughing fit.

“it was never that funny.”

“then why are you laughing too?”

good point.

“sunwoo,” you speak when you can finally catch your breath, “how am I going to sleep here? i have no bonnet, no night clothes, not a damn thing.”

“well, i may not be able to fix all of that, but I do have clothes. come on.” he gets up from the couch, placing a hand out for you to join him. in reality he just wanted an excuse to hold your hand again. it always calmed his anxiety down.

you don’t hesitate to grab it before allowing him to lead you to his room. this wasn’t your first time in here. back before you started getting booked for more make up gigs, you and sunwoo would hide from the world here quite often. you always asked him did the other members hate you.

“of course not. no one could ever hate you. it’s like, scientifically impossible.” he would always say.

sunwoo directs you to sit on his bed as he squats down to get to his drawer.

there it is again. the peaceful silence. for sunwoo, this was something that could never go unnoticed. he just wished there was a way he could get the balls to confess to you, and that although you didn’t like him now, that you would be open to letting him show you what real love feels like. he wasn’t always the most confident even though he pretended to be, but there was always a small part of him that wished you just give him a chance.

you were literally his peace. how could he ever be with someone else when they could never make him feel like this?

sunwoo grabs one of his graphic tee’s and some basketball shorts. he would’ve gave you some sweatpants, but you hated sleeping in pants especially in a warm environment.

“thank you baby boo.” you blow him a kiss before getting up to go to the bathroom to change. it doesn’t take long for you to switch clothes, and you can’t help but chuckle as you observe the messy bathroom you were in. boys.

there have been plenty of times where you sported sunwoo’s hoodies and jackets, but his entire wardrobe was a first. you walk out, all of a sudden feeling a wave of embarrassment run through you.

why were you so cute? you’re waddling back to him, his clothes doing their best to fit your body.

“cute.” sunwoo mutters. while you were in the bathroom, he was trying to figure out a way to turn his pillow case into a scarf for you. he had no idea how any of this worked, but he knew silk was important for your hair. he also knew you were gonna start crying soon when you had to mess up your freshly done hair on top of being stuck in here with him.

“thank you.” you mutter back, but you turn around as if you forgot something in the living room. you had to have ran the way you reappeared so quickly, this time with a bottle of wine in your hand.

“where did you get that from?” he scoffs. “alcoholic.”

“i prefer the term, extremely stressed.”

sunwoo attempts to stand, “let me get us some glasses or something.” but your hand sharply grabs his wrist to hault him.

“sit down. are we not best friends? we’re just gonna share it.”

this was so embarrassing. this was the closest to kissing you he would ever know, hm?

before he can blink the bottle is open and you’re downing it like you hadn’t had liquid in your body for 48 hours — nothing unusual from you. he takes the bottle from you after you chug it and does the same. he had never had this wine before, but it was good as hell. it was sweet, but citrus at the same time—wait.

“this is going to sound so weird,” he begins, “but why does this wine taste how you smell?” he chuckles.

“you’re not already drunk are you, lightweight?” you’re smiling at him again. you were always fucking smiling at him.

the night goes on, the two of you drinking more and more of the bottle until it’s empty, simply a weapon for an intruder. you had no intentions of doing this, but fuck it. you can’t lie, the room is spinning. you take a look at sunwoo who’s already looking at you.

every time you got drunk with each other and made eye contact like this, you felt it. you had always tried so damn hard to not feel like this, but how could you not? look at him.

he was so perfect. his skin always looked like it had been made love to by the sun. his teeth were perfect, his face was sculpted to perfection. he was fine as hell. you may have been able to push down everything else you felt for him, but that was something you could never deny.

but you knew him. and you had given up the dream of the two of you ever being a thing when you saw how he acted with girls he actually liked. he oozed with confidence, because just like you knew he was fine, he knew he was fine too.

did sunwoo show you how a woman should be treated? yes. but that’s what real men did. they became your examples so that you never have to be confused when you actually date. truth be told, all of his members had their moments where they did nice things for you.

now sunwoo is snapping in your face. he’s so damn drunk, and he knows it because he can’t stop giggling like a middle schooler who was sitting beside his crush for the first time.

his thoughts are running wild right now. there’s so many emotions bouncing from wall to wall inside of him that he genuinely feels like he can explode. your beauty has intensified by a thousand even though his vision was not as clear as it was before. his love for you, although he didn’t realize it was possible, has gotten even stronger in a mere thirty minutes. his length is twitching and his mouth, unbeknownst to him, was watering ever so slightly as he looks at you.

the two of you have been drunk together before, but it was always a gigantic group of people around, so what’s about to happen, could never happen.

it’s as if sunwoo no longer has control of his body. his left hand slowly creeps on your knee and he begins to rub it ever so gently. his eyes have yet to leave yours. he’s afraid he’ll blind you with how intense he’s glaring into you, but he can’t look away. he feels like he can see through you.

you can’t stop him. truthfully, him caressing your knee was nothing abnormal, but this time it feels…different. and the way he’s looking at you—you can’t help but squeeze your legs together. you don’t know what else to even do in this moment.

now sunwoo is moving closer to you. he expects you to start moving back, and it was at that moment he was going to excuse himself, but you don’t move. your breathing that was previously relaxed is now unsteady, and he swears he can hear how loud and hard your heart is beating.

“babygirl.”

he presses his plump lips to yours, and it’s as if time stops.

you know how they say when you have a near death experience, your life flashes before your eyes? well, that’s what the two of you were experiencing right now. this was the death of your friendship, now being reborn into something even deeper, although the two of you weren’t sure what that meant.

it’s like a projector is replaying every moment the two of you have ever had for the both of you to see. his lips are still connected to yours—your eyes seemingly wired shut as you’re forced to watch the movie that was your life.

sunwoo sees music bank, he sees himself frantically apologizing until he looks up, wondering what a beautiful girl like you was doing back here around all of these judgmental people. he sees the first time the two of you ever hung out. tbz had thrown a party at their dorm, and through text you had told him you didn’t have any friends and he was determined to change that. even so, the two of you decided to stay in sunwoo’s room, refusing to be rowdy like everybody else. you talked for hours about everything and nothing at the same time. that was the first time sunwoo realized he was falling in love with you.

you see every single time sunwoo has been there for you—no matter the time, place, or reason. how, even when you made the poorest of decisions, he rode for you. you see every kiss to the side of your head, every gift, every hug. most importantly, you unlock a feeling that you had been keeping hidden for an incredible long time; the fact that you wanted him to be more than a friend to you. you had no idea why you never allowed the feelings to be freed. maybe you were scared. you damn sure didn’t think you were good enough. but sunwoo is kissing you right now. and through his lips can you feel every single emotion he has been hiding from you as well.

it’s as if someone smacked sunwoo on the back of his neck. he pulls away quickly, his eyes widening in horror, but then his brain reminds him that he’s not sober, and it’s now or never.

“y/n,” he begins, cupping your fluffy cheeks that he loves so much. his tan skin always looked so pretty against your choco colored. “i’m—i’m so drunk right now.” he chuckles sadly, “like genuinely I’m such a fucking mess, but that kiss…that wasn’t because I’m drunk. well, it was, but these feelings are real. they’re so fucking real and I’m sorry that I’m doing this, but I’m so in love with you. and please don’t think that I realized this over the course of a night. for the past two years that I have known you have I been allowed the pleasure to grow in love with you. more and more everyday.”

sunwoo is crying now, which is something you had never seen him do. you place your hands in his wrists as they continue to hold your face—rubbing gentle circles into them.

has sunwoo really felt like this all along? have you really been wasting your time dating shitty people, when the man of your dreams has been sitting here for two years wanting to be with you all the same?

“sunwoo i—“

“just let me finish,” he wipes the tears that feel like they will never stop falling before continuing his drunken rant, “i know you don’t feel the same. you don’t have to tell me. and I know I probably ruined every bit of friendship we have built all this time, but I think I’m at my breaking point y/n. it’s so hard, holding all of this inside of me.”

you want to let him finish, but you can’t. you want to feel what he just made you feel by pressing his lips to yours again. everything happens so fast. your lips connect to his in a passionate romance, and he haults for a second before returning the fire you were putting on his lips. both of your clothes are coming off too quickly to remember where you guys are throwing them. you’re grinding on his length, moaning loudly at how big he is. sunwoo is whimpering and the tears are still flowing because, this can’t be real. you feel so fucking good on him as you grind your panty covered pussy on his dick.

as drunk as the both of you are, you’ll never forget this. the both of you fall back on the bed, and like a movie, the scene blurs out.

sunwoo makes love to you that night. he makes love to you over and over again. if there was anybody even remotely close to this dorm, they heard it, but he doesn’t care. he wanted everyone to hear him moaning out your name because you are so fucking beautiful and you make love to him so good. and he wanted them all to wallow at the fact that he was the one making you feel this damn good.

scream my name, babygirl. he remembers saying passionately to you in every position. the both of you hear it in your dreams too. you see it all in your dreams. his confession of how patiently he had been waiting to make love to you like this. how gorgeous your body was even with every mark you have on your body. your beautiful hyperpigmentation that you have always been insecure about.

how in love he is with you.

you begin to feel your five senses again; you can feel the sun, although she’s not warming you up any due to the cold weather that’s still prominent, your eyes are starting to gain vision again, and you stretch your entire body feeling pleased with all the cracks you hear. you feel sunwoo’s arms around you, which causes your heart to stop beating for a mere second before your body forces your entire body to start sweating.

he looks so at peace as he sleeps. his arms are wrapped tightly around your waist as his leg is placed right under your womanhood. yours is wrapped around his waist. you remove the cover ever so slightly to take a look at him in all his glory. he was so beautiful. his body was beautiful, and you no longer had to imagine what it would look like in a moment like this.

sunwoo begins to wake up too. it’s almost as if he’s still drunk with how at ease he currently feels. he can smell you before his eyes even open. the smell of love still lingers in the room. before opening his eyes, he can’t help but to pepper kisses all over your face, neck, and chest.

now his eyes are open and enchanted by yours like they always are, but this time it feels different. it is different. sunwoo doesn’t know what to expect. he doesn’t know if you’re going to say you regret it. he’s honestly petrified right now.

but then you do it—you smile. that heart warming smile that always made him melt is resting on your face, and he knows.

you don’t regret it at all.

“what do we do now?” you whisper so innocently. the sun is assisting with your natural glow. your voice is raspy, but it’s music to his ears. your bare body is really here for him to respect, worship, and love. it’s right here in front of him.

“i meant it, y/n. everything I said.” he presses his forehead to yours.

“i know. me too. even though I didn’t say much.” you chuckle, moving to put your head in his chest. you didn’t even care about the fact that you slept with no scarf last night. this moment overthrew that.

“i love you.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he always does. “and I wanna show you that I’m all you need.”

“i love you too, sunwoo.” you beam, “and I want you to show me.”

this moment—it’s so sweet, and gentle. just like you. the entire room is at ease. birds are singing outside and sunwoo has no idea whether it’s still snowing outside or not.

a knock on the door interrupts the beautiful moment.

“so um, I let you guys have your moment and all because whoop whoop! so happy that the two of you realized you are madly in love with eachother, but can the two of you please put some clothes on so I can come in my room?” kevin sings behind the door.

fuck! the two of you both say in unison before laughing uncontrollably. you and sunwoo get out of bed to put your clothes back on, but still don’t take your eyes off eachother. you can’t.

all sunwoo could do now was thank the heavens, for they allowed this snow storm to blow the two of you in each-others arms.

authors note!! i really hope you guys loved this. sunwoo…that’s my man my man my man! im so in love with him I had to get it out haha. kisses love you all hope you’re having a good ass day. stay beautiful.

© 2022 moonlightdreamzz. no one has permission to steal my work in any way, shape, or form.

#sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines #kpop x black reader #tbz imagines #the boyz x black reader #sunwoo #tbz scenarios #kpop x poc #kpop imagines #sunwoo smut #Kim sunwoo #tbz #the boyz

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷  chapter thirty three: the beginning of the end, ii.

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marga's notes. hehe (: 

The snow has begun to descend all over Japan and almost all the things your eyes stop on are colored in white, from the roads, the barks of the trees, to the roofs of your homes. The view was accompanied by the feeling of coldness that hugs you every time you leave the comforts of your warm house and step out of the door. It was pleasant, regardless of the sore joints you get every winter. The sound of snow crunching for every footstep makes up for it, which you enjoy even better when your companion joins you in trying to skip over the uneven ground.

“Come on, Hajime, you slowpoke! We’re going to be late,” you giggle as you pick up a bit of snow and chuck it towards his direction. The past week hasn't been that eventful for the two of you, but there was still progress anyway. You two went out and traveled to various areas in hopes of obtaining more inspiration for your writing, which almost felt like a couple’s date, at least that’s what it was for him. The blurry images and incomplete voices are etched in your mind though and you find yourself lost in your train of thoughts from time to time, at least until Iwaizumi snaps you out of it and brings you back to the present.

“If you trip, I swear I’ll only laugh at you,” he jokingly warns, laughing handsomely when you stick your tongue out to him as a response.When you arrive in the middle of the campus field, you slow down and stop, catching the attention of the boy with you.

“You okay?” 

You hum and take in the view as much as your vision lets you. Your eyes twinkle with childlike wonder and you exhale, releasing a fog-like breath which makes you giggle once more, “I like winter.”

“Yeah?” 

You nod and feel your heart beat with excitement, “yeah, it’s really fun. I hope it’s always like this.”

He grabs your glove-covered hand with his and smile, “me too. I hope so too.”

Contrary to your words, an oddly familiar warmth that nestles its way to your heart when your eyes settle on a familiar figure idly standing from afar and you start to think that maybe… just maybe, you might actually like the warm summer better than a cold winter. As if there’s a force pulling you, your feet start to walk towards their direction, the previous stable beating of your heart becomes erratic the more you come near.

“Hey, the party’s in that direction, where are we–” Hajime starts to ask, before he stops when he feels your hand letting go of him and sees who you’re approaching. His heart drops because there goes his peace once again, replaced by the agonizing torture of watching you naturally gravitate towards your fated one. He doesn’t think you realize this and somehow, that knowledge makes it more excruciating. 

He stays behind you when you stand giddily in front of the blonde boy who has not yet took notice of your presence, too busy enjoying how he was playing and kicking the snow with his feet, eyes also filled with childlike wonder. And Hajime wants to lurch because Atsumu’s scarily just like you. You two were just made for each other and it gases up Hajime’s insides with bitterness. 

Because, why do I have to go against the universe for this, he asks no one in particular.

He watches when Atsumu mindlessly kicks and the snow hits your direction, making you squeal-giggle due to the cold sensation. Hajime thinks your happiness was mostly due to the delight of seeing the blonde. And he wants to just disappear because, how can Atsumu make you laugh like that without even trying? And fate was just so, so cruel and unfair he can barely be graced with your smile. 

As you stand in front of him, it dawns upon you that looking at him magnifies the warmth you feel amidst the coldness of your surroundings. You watch the surprise that forms on Atsumu’s face when he realizes it was you who he kicked the snow to before he dumbfoundedly asks, “YN, y-you’re here?”

You gently nod and make up the excuse that you got a bit lost on your way to the direction of the café where the christmas party was supposed to be. Perhaps, for now, you’d keep to yourself the fact that you went over to him on your own accord. It would be a bit difficult (and weird) to tell him that your feet just pulled you to him, after all. 

“We’re not close enough for me to say this but I think you’re too stressed to not even see me in front of you, Atsumu-san. Are you okay?” You ask with genuine concern as you take in what seems like fatigue and melancholy plastered all over his face. 

“Oh… not close, huh? Well.. yeah, training for the V-League has just been hard,” he meekly replies while rubbing his nape sheepishly, “I thought ya wouldn’t be able to come, so I’m honestly surprised right now. Ya said you were going to prepare stuff for the launching of your book, right?”

As you open your mouth to respond, you hear Iwaizumi call your name. You swiftly look back and smile before returning your gaze on Atsumu, “Well, I was planning to go back to Cali for a bit but figured I wanted to launch it here, in my hometown. Besides, this boy right here was persistent on convincing his…” you halt, feeling nauseous as you pick your words.Oddly enough, you think you want to puke out the brunch you had with Iwaizumi a while ago. Traitor, traitor! The voice at the back of your mind screams at you but you try to ignore it and force a smile as you gestured to the boy beside you, “soulmate to stay home.”

The black haired lad’s arm wraps itself around your waist and nods at the blonde in greeting, “it’s nice to see you again, Atsumu-san.”

Atsumu forces a tight-lipped smile and replies with a heavy accent (and a heavy heart), “nice to see ya too, Iwaizumi-kun.”

There’s an aggressive tension between them that you try not to acknowledge, but it fills the air among you three with awkwardness. You feel a sense of tightness within you the longer Iwaizumi holds you so you step out of his hold, not noticing the hurt that passes so quickly in his eyes before he looks at the blonde whose eyes were already on him. 

You think you’re threading into something that may blow out to become an ugly fight, so you fake out a cough, “ehem, so I assume we’re all heading towards the same place? So let’s all go together?”

Atsumu nods and joins you as you walk towards the campus, steps becoming more light and alive as compared to how he was walking a while ago. Hajime closely follows behind you, slowly drowning in the bitterness.

The sourness of it all engulfs him whole but as you continue to talk with Atsumu while walking, he sees that your smile was too beautiful to ruin the moment. So he only gulps it all up and walks near the two of you as you converse with each other. He ignores the pricks and needles of anguish, praying it doesn’t eat his soul, doesn’t consume his heart. Your smile was too beautiful, happiness looks good on you and he’d be damned if he’s the cause of its downfall.

You relish in the familiar faces that fill in your vision as the Christmas party and mini-reunion goes on. They talk about how they can recall the incidents that happened before and during the Cinderella play you did, how magnificent you and your co-stars were, and so many more. You try to go along the flow of conversations, but there’s an itchy and uncomfortable thought that tickles your mind as you try to recall the play. Who was your partner in the play again? 

Unfortunately, whenever you try to ask, they only laugh and think you were joking. Only statements of ‘Silly YN, that’s a nice joke!’ but no names are dropped. Somehow, it feels like your heart is screaming that it was the blonde standing just on the other side of the room, laughing and interacting with the other partygoers as well. His eyes travel around the room before they meet yours and light up, he waves while you blush like a high schooler. You bashfully wave back before you drop your arms when he approaches. 

“Told you it would be fun,” Atsumu exclaims as he leans near your ear for you to hear over the loud music playing all over the gymnasium. 

You laugh and nod, “Fine, you win! Can’t imagine if I didn’t come and stay bored at home.”

“You’d probably be missing me,” he jokes, but the way he looks at you makes you think it’s far from being a joke. 

Your heart skips and you gulp, “Probably.”

He blushes and smiles widely at your reply before he lightly takes your hand and pulls you near the center of the gym, “let’s dance!”

You shake your head ‘no’ rapidly and stop him, “Nope, not a chance. I’d rather die, Tsum!”

Despite your attempts at rejections, he succeeds as you two stand facing each other. You hear awws from your acquaintances when the music suddenly changes from a lively song to a slow romantic one. He bows like a prince before offering you his hand, “may I have this dance?”

You stare at him and he stares back as he awaits your response.

Miya Atsumu was a wonder to your eyes, enchanting you with magic you would’ve never imagined you’d feel as he holds his gaze on you, as if to say: “I’m casting a spell on you. You won’t be able to get rid of me now.” And suddenly, he’s holding your heart in his palms, taking it, keeping it. And you’re letting him. Because if he cherishes it, you’d be thanking the heavens above. And if he breaks it–

“It would be my pleasure,” you tell him as you put your hand in his. And then, your heart warms, dances with him in this beautiful, cold night. It goes on for what feels like eternity before the song finally comes to an end. You two stay still in the middle of the floor, almost as if no one was there with you. He opens his mouth and closes it, no words coming out despite the abundance of it within him. You encourage him silently, smiling fondly as if you were saying “I’m waiting, just take your time.” And he feels so bad, to have always been the one to make you wait so he speaks.

His voice, full of emotion, wavers and cracks when he speaks, “I’m sorry… for everything.”

Your face morphs into one of confusion, not knowing why was suddenly apologizing, “why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything, Tsum.”

“You’d hate me if you knew,” he whispers and then, you hear the lively music come back as the crowd returns to the dance floor. He releases you from his hold and sadly smiles at you, “and I’d rather die than see you hate me, YN.”

And as he disappears into the crowd, he takes your heart with this and leaves you in a void.

“That was a heartwarming dance,” a girl’s voice from behind you comments. You turn to look back and see a very familiar face.

“Yui!” you exclaim while she raises an eyebrow at your enthusiasm .

“That’s a rather happy way of greeting me. Aren’t you supposed to hate me?” She furrows her brows this time when she sees confusion on your face, “huh, that’s interesting. I guess you don’t know anything yet?” 

She looks around and back at you, rolling her eyes at your very much lost self, before pulling you towards the girls’ bathroom, “wipe that dumb look on your pretty face and come with me.”

Feeling overwhelmed by the suddenness of Atsumu’s emotions and Yui’s confusing words, you follow her like a lost child. She lets the bathroom door close automatically and you two stand by the sink. She places her bag on the dry part of it and brings out her make-up purse, handing a pressed powder to you before turning to the mirror and taking out her gloss to retouch her lips.

“Freshen up yourself, Cinderella Number 2,” she says oh-so-casually. You snap out of your confusing thoughts and look at her through the mirror.

“What do you mean by that… why am I supposed to hate you?” you ask her as you try to open the container of the pressed powder.

“Because… I ruined everything for you,” she sighs and helps you open it before going back to doing her thing.

“Huh?” she rolls her eyes at your response.

“You’re not stupid, YN… you know he isn’t your soulmate, right?” she tells you, looking directly into your eyes through the mirror, “you know Hajime isn’t your soulmate.”

She stops for a while as she observes how you’re taking in the information she’s saying before continuing, “it’s anticlimactic, I know. You’re supposed to get this thrilling or surprising revelation for your soulmate searching agenda, but you already know who it is deep down, don’t you? So, it doesn’t really matter if I spoil it for you.”

You meekly nod and whimper a quiet ‘yeah’ as you feel your chest throb, in relief or in pain? You have no idea. The emotions you feel are threatening to oversurge form your heart as you feel your eyes well up with tears.

“You don’t need me for this but I guess I wanted to feel like a good person somehow. So, I’m telling you.. what… or rather, who you feel, who you’re thinking of… you’re right, it’s him.”

She says it with so much finality and for some odd reasons, you feel like a pain wretched deep in your heart was loosened and freed.

“So my memories are not all fucked up? I was right, wasn’t I? You were Hajime’s soulmate,” you ask her, making her laugh.

“Of course, your memory’s not fucked up, sweets. It’s him who’s fucked up, but I guess he just loves you that much, even way beyond his feelings for me as his soulmate,” she sadly smiles, “though that doesn’t mean it was alright for him to lie about that.”

“But… why are you telling me all this? Aren’t you supposed to hate me too?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know… I guess I just don’t want to feel shitty anymore. Guilt’s a very heavy thing to carry. I think that goes the same for Atsumu.”

She checks her face in the mirror and smiles in satisfaction when her lips are glossy again. She looks at you through the mirror once more, “anyway, soulmate or not, your heart is yours to decide with, YN. Just remember that.”

You go to the bathroom, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the events that just transpired. You clumsily walk back to the gymnasium, everything just feels too fast, too sudden, too relieving, too maddening all at the same time. You lean against the walls of the hallway and take a deep breath to calm yourself down, but tears start to escape from your eyes.

Atsumu.

You stand up once again and continue to walk, going inside the gymnasium. 

Tsum.

Your eyes scan the crowd but you find it difficult to see the blonde, not when the only light source you have is the mirrorball hanging in the middle of the gym. 

Where is he?

“YN, I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been?” Hajime asks, deep relief in his voice. You freeze and feel the anger bubbling within you. You glare at him, much to his surprise before you hastily walk away from him.

“Hey, YN. Wait up!” You don’t but unfortunately for you, Hajime’s strides could easily catch up to you and so, he grabs you by the arm, to which you harshly pull away from.

“Don’t touch me, don’t even think about coming near me, you… you liar! How dare you?” you ask him vexingly. Some of your companions in the party turned to look at the commotion as soon as the music toned down to a slow song once again. 

“What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay? Calm down, love,” he tries to talk you through it but to no avail, your anger has gotten the best of you. You hold a finger up and point it at his chest.

“Don’t–! Don’t call me that,” you whisper with all the loath you feel, voice coarse and broken, “you.. you don’t fucking love me. You just like the idea that I was like you, unloved and pushed aside by my soulmate. You… you traitor..!”

He tries to act all confused, despite the erratic beating of his heart. He can't lose you, not now. You were both doing fine, what happened? Did you know? Did you get your memories back? No, you're not supposed to. His frantic eyes and pale face betrays him as you humorlessly laugh, "I fucking know everything, Iwaizumi."

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu smau #haikyuu smau #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi smau #miya atsumu #iwaizumi hajime

[writerblue275]

My favorite LoL skin (with photos) for each Heartsteel member (excluding their Heartsteel/Prestige Heartsteel and Base skins)

So I absolutely adore the Heartsteel skin line, and for Aphelios, Kayn, and Yone, their Heartsteel skins are arguably my favorite skins of theirs (especially Yone’s Prestige Heartsteel skin). HOWEVER. I want to talk about some other amazing skins too. Three of the ones I’ll mention come from the same skin line, but listen, it’s a beautiful line. Also note: These are based on the splash art. I know some of the aesthetics change when translated to a player model. Ok let’s GOOOOO!

Aphelios: Spirit Blossom Aphelios

I love the COLORS of this skin. I love Spirit Blossom Aphelios’ hair design (like damn Phel go off with the man bun/small pony I see you), outfit/accessories, the markings on his face, and how his horns are opposite to Alune’s. (Also can we discuss how Alune also looks so pretty here like omg. I’m so glad they made sure she fit into this as well.) But Aphelios just looks softer than some of his other skins and it’s an interesting vibe from him. I dig it!

Ezreal: Faerie Court Ezreal & Prestige Heavenscale Ezreal.

(Listen I genuinely can’t fucking pick between them so he gets two.)

THE OUTFIT (with all its wing motifs). THE WINGS. THE PINK HAIR. HIS expression!! I love the redesign of his gauntlet as well. Another thing that I really enjoy is how they managed to keep his face markings and make them unique. His face markings are a trademark element of Ezreal’s base skin so I’m glad they kept those here. AHHHHH HE JUST LOOKS SO GOOD. This is just such a fun reimagine for his character.

This might be one of his two newest skins but holy fuck it’s already one of my favs. His HAIR. MY GOD IT’S SO GOOD?? His pose and expression exude so much power and confidence. His gauntlet with the draconic claw and his horns is just so fun. Also that OUTFIT? His outfit genuinely looks amazing. The color combo of light blue, maroon, and gold is just EXCELLENT. Again, they also kept face markings of some kind, even if they moved from his cheeks to his forehead.

Kayn: Snow Moon Kayn

Kayn’s skins are always fun because you really get 3-in-1 with Kayn, his shadow assassin form, and Rhaast. I love a good black and red (with gold accents) theme and the Loki-esque horns, as well as the addition of the furs on his basic Kayn form are really cool. And the shaddow assassin’s hair. My goodness I do love a man with long white hair 😂 (this will appear again later). I love the color contrast between the shadow assassin and Rhaast designs as well. Also Rhaast looks badass. Terrifying, but still badass.

K’Sante: Prestige Empyrean K’Sante

This skin is so fucking cool. We get to see his face here unlike the original Empyrean K’Sante skin. I love the color scheme with the purple, gold, white, and pink as well as the designs on the clothes/his weapons. The little pink on his face also adds a really small but eye-catching detail that I very much enjoy. Also Lil Nas X helped design this skin and I think that’s so fucking cool.

Sett: Spirit Blossom Sett

Ok listen yes a bit of the reasoning for all these is that the characters themselves look fine as fuck. But holy shit look at Sett here. LOVE his long white hair (hehe what did I say it’s a pattern) with his ears here. That outfit and the accessories are stunning. And again the color palette for the spirit blossom line is just so pretty. Sett just looks so in charge and powerful here. He really is the boss. (Also shoutout to the [I believe] first instance of canon SettPhel which happened in the lore/voice interactions for this line.)

Yone: Spirit Blossom Yone

Look at him. LOOK AT YONE. There is something about Yone with longer white hair that is just so…right, even if it’s tied back or braided. All the beautiful shades of purple in his outfit too! I love. I also like how, besides the horns and his hands/arms, he seems almost human and he’s not stuck to his mask like in his base skin (though I do love his base skin). He also just gives off really pleasant vibes in this. I cannot explain it lmao.

These are my thoughts! These are just my opinions, and frankly so many of these champions have so many amazing skins. I’d love to hear your favorites if you have opinions!

#writerblue275 gremlin hours #aphelios #aphelios and alune #ezreal #kayn #shieda kayn #k’sante #sett #settrigh #yone #league of legends #league of legends opinions

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

White Rose Cubs: Big Cat AU

Cheetah!Ruby: (pacing outside of the cubbing den) Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh!

Tiger!Yang: Ruby, I know you're an anxious species, but try to relax. Blake is in there with Weiss and the Keepers watching on the camera to help her get through labor. She'll be fine.

Cheetah!Ruby: Oh, I know she'll be fine! I'm worried about me!

SnowLeopard!Weiss: (from inside the den, roars) RUBY, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!!!

Cheetah!Ruby: eep! (tries to sprint away only to get tackled by T!Y)

Tiger!Yang: Forced weighted blanket!

Cheetah!Ruby: (squirms for a few seconds before calming down) Oooooh... thanks, Sis. You're the best weighted blanket.

-Inside the Den-

Panther!Blake: Come on, Weiss. You got one out. You can get this one.

SnowLeopard!Weiss: I have no idea how you managed to push out three of these parasites! Much less that big one! I feel like I'm dying!!!

-One Hour Later-

Panther!Blake: (exits cubbing den and blinks at T!Y is still laying on C!R) Weiss and the cubs are doing fine. You have two beautiful cubs, Ruby. Congratulations.

Cheetah!Ruby: (perks up and bites T!Y's paw to get her to roll off and sprints into the den) Weiss!!!

Tiger!Yang: How did it go?

Panther!Blake: Honestly, there were three. The runt didn't make it, but Weiss and Ruby don't need to know that. The keepers took it right away.

Tiger!Yang: Oh, no... I guess that's what happens when a genetic miracle happens. Some issues.... That's a secret between us.

Panther!Blake: I need to see the cubs now, please?

Tiger!Yang: Of course. (walks P!B back to their enclosure)

-In the Cubbing Den-

Cheetah!Ruby: Weiss???

SnowLeopard!Weiss: (laying tiredly as two cubs nurse) In here, Ruby. Don't worry. I'm too tired to kill you right now.

Cheetah!Ruby: (grumbles in a chuckle and walks in. She gasps when she sees the cubs)

Blizzard: (snow leopard build, markings, and fur type but cheetah coloring)

Savanah: (cheetah build and markings but with snow leopard coloring)

Cheetah!Ruby: (lays down next to Weiss and gives gentle licks while purring) They're perfect. Maybe even more perfect than you. Hehe. I'm joking.

SnowLeopard!Weiss: (huffs tiredly) You know what? I'm inclined to agree.

#bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #ruby rose #weiss schnee #white rose #big cat au #cheetah ruby #snow leopard weiss #panther blake #tiger yang #sorry for the little angst guys #two anons asked for this back to back so here we are

[giggly-squiggily]

Hello, hello, hello my favourite fluff writer! Have you been good? I absolutely adore all your D o u m a/ K o k u s h i b o tickle fics! Their personalities compliment each other's so well XD. I know you've written one like this, but may I please request a Lee! Koku Ler! Douma fic? I don't have a specific prompt for this, so you can do whatever you want! (If you accept the request of course :))

Ahh YESH!!! Heyo anons! I hope it's alright that I combined these two! Kokudouma is such a delightful ship for me, and since we're in winter; I figured why not make something a bit snowy? Hehehe! I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @t-wordiiish @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07, @giggly-toybox

“Hey.”

Douma’s voice held a teasing note as he poked his head in, vibrant eyes dancing as they landed on Kokushibou. He gestured, a single clawed finger curling invitingly to follow. “I wanna show you something.”

The older demon watched him for a long moment, a war of curiosity and weariness dueling it out within. Then he stood, following the grinning blonde.

He didn’t ask where they were going- he knew he wouldn’t get an answer. He did let Douma’s hand find his, cold and solid yet strangely comforting against his calloused palm. When they reached their destination, they stood in one of the castle’s many large empty rooms.

“Here we are!” Douma clapped, sashaying to the middle of the room as he turned his gaze onto Kokushibou. “Ready?”

“For what exactly?” He asked. What was Douma going to do?

The blonde only smiled. And then…

A snowflake landed on his nose.

Kokushibou looked at it cross-eyed, earning a gleeful cackle from the blonde. More snowflakes fell around them, raining slowly down against the wooden floors until the color went from red to white. Douma continued to laugh, spreading his arms out wide and spinning on one foot as he brought down flake after flake. “Isn’t this lovely, Koku?”

“It’s…cold.” Kokushibou mused, knowing it was an underwhelming response but not sure how else to describe it. Holding out his hands, he let the snow gather within, crystalizing his skin and chilling him to the bone. “Very cold.”

“Pfft- of course it is! It’s snow! Surely you’ve grown up with snow before?” Douma grinned cheekily, sticking out his tongue to catch a stray flake. He almost missed the somber look crossing the other’s face in his glee. “Koku…?”

The ground was thick and hard to walk through. His legs hurt from the intense chill, and his breath came out a long puffs of white. Ahead of him, a boy with his face turned back to laugh, waving as he encouraged him to follow.

“Koku?” His name- his new name- being called shook him from his memory. He looked up to find Douma watching him. How’d he get so close without him noticing? “Are you still here?”

“I…yes.” Kokushibou shook his head, scattering away the past. “Forgive me..snow and I- we don’t have a fondness for one another.”

“Oh?” Douma looked sad then. Kokushibou wanted to snatch the words right back. Then the blonde was smiling once more. “Well, we just have to fix that, won’t we?”

“What-” Before Kokushibou could speak, Douma had his hands in his once more, pulling him further into the room with a laugh. Snow danced around them like fairy lights, blurring his vision some as Douma twirled them around. “Come now, frolic with me!”

This room was big, but not that big. The snow had gotten thick around his ankles, and even with his thick robes, he still felt the chill.

And yet…

“That’s it!” Douma laughed as Kokushibou attempted to “frollic”. He tried copying Douma’s footwork, but found himself tripping more than usual. The ground was particularly icy in places, sending them both slipping into one another as they went about the room. It was…fun. A rare feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Hehe, look at us go! Isn’t this lovely-” Douma went to smile at him over his shoulder just as his leg went backwards. Wide eyed, he scrambled for purchase, the closest thing to him being Kokushibou himself.

They hit the ground soon after, cushioned by the fluffy snow.

“Pfft! Pfft, pfft!” Kokushibou sputtered out reddish brown hair, shoving his bangs out of his face with his free hand. The one clutching Douma’s stayed firm, if not a bit tight. “Douma, are you alright?”

A rhetorical question- they were demons that could heal in seconds. Still, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

“Aww, you’re worried about me?” Douma popped up with a smile, half leaning into Kokushibou as he propped himself up. “Oh Koku, you do care!”

“Of course I do.” His lips were loose today. Maybe it was the frollicing- or perhaps something was in the snow. “I always care about you.”

Douma gasped some at that, eyes widening. If demons could blush, Kokushibou imagined he’d be pink in the cheeks right now. The mental image of that did funny things to his stomach.

“Oh, aren’t you a sweet talker!” Douma cooed, climbing further up Kokushibou as he wrapped his arms around him. “And here I thought I was the charismatic one! You should come to one of my follower meetings. We’d be the talk of the town!”

“No thanks. I’d likely drive them away with my presence.” Six eyes was a lot to take in…

“What? No way! You’re so handsome!” Douma cooed. When Kokushibou raised an eyebrow, Douma grinned- curling the hands resting against his sides. “You’re incredibly handsome! Look at that chiseled jaw, those high cheekbones, those eyes!” Douma leaned in so they were nose to nose, drinking in the older demon’s wobbly smile. “I wanna swim in them~”

“Ehe! Ehehehehehehe, Doohoohouma, plehahahahhase!” Kokushibou tried capturing his hands, but Douma was far too quick! His long nails made short work pressing through the thick fabric of his robes, sending little shocks of ticklishness up his core. “Ihiiihihiht’s tohoohohohoo cohohohohold!”

“Is it now? Well, I’ll just have to warm you up!” Douma teased, increasing his efforts as he clawed at the other demon’s ribs, earning a series of deep rich chuckles and snickers. “Can’t let you turn into a Koku-sicle, can I? Hehehe~”

“Thahahaht whahahahhas a thhehehehehrrihiihihhible johohohoohohke!”

“You’re laughing though~”

“Shhuuhuhuhuhuhush!” Realizing he wasn’t getting out of this one easily, he changed tactics. Reaching out, he grasped Douma by the waist, pulling him across him and into the snow beside him. With their limbs tangled temporarily it gave him just the opening he needed.

“Whoa! Aren’t you-EEK!” Douma squealed, arching as fingers attacked his hip, sending snow flying with his flailing limbs. “Nohohooohohoho, Kohohoohohokooohohohoho! Aheahhhahhahahah!

“What’s so funny, Douma? Have another joke?” He asked, a teasing tone entering his voice as he brought his hands up to the blonde’s neck, earning a loud squeal. “Don’t be shy- tell me!”

“AHEHAHHAHAAAHHAHAAA!” Douma thrashed beneath him,hands coming up to squeeze his ribs as he struggled to get away. Kokushibou yelped at the touch, giving Douma his own opening for revenge.

It was like they were children, rolling in the snow with one another as they tickled eachother relentlessly. Kokushibou couldn’t remember the last time he felt so…free. So unburdened by duty, so…relaxed.

All things must come to an end. Douma and him laid side by side in the cold snow, hand in hand as they watched the flakes fall around them. They landed on Douma’s face, his hair- he looked like an angel beneath it all.

“Hey.” He whispered, poking Kokushibou’s shoulder gently. “I love you.”

Those three little words; spoken so easily but carrying such an impact it left Kokushibou  a bit stunned. Then he smiled, leaning in and capturing Douma’s lips within his own. They were icy at the touch, but sent warmth spreading from the back of his neck down to the tips of his toes.

“I love you too.”

Maybe the snow wasn't so bad afterall.

Thanks for reading!

#demon slayer #tickle #tickle fic #kokudouma #kokushibou #douma #upper moons #twelve kizuki #fluff #snow day #I'm obsessed with that douma makes snow headcanon #Had to turn it into a whole thing lols

[corvidaemnit]

Hey so can i have some interesting bird facts? I'm writing a story with a character who loves birds and i would like to hear bird facts that i can make the character tell others

YOU ARE MY NEW FAVORITE PERSON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING.

here are some of my favorites off the top of my head!!

- crows can remember faces and hold grudges! not only that, but they can also spread gossip amongst other crows which can be passed down generationally. if you wrong a crow, there’s a chance even its descendants will despise you

- hoatzins are born with small hooked claws on their wings to grab onto branches when they’re chicks! chicks will hold onto branches and, when faced with danger, they can and will drop themselves into water and SWIM to safety!! cool, right? however, as hoatzins mature they shed their claws and lose their ability to swim- as they have no need for those things anymore

- woodpeckers have long tongues that are supported by the ‘hyoid bone’, two thin strips that run through their tongue and wrap all the way around their skull. basically, woodpeckers have long ass tongues that touch their own skull. they also have been prone to using their tongues as self defense; their tongues are long and sticky so they stick it out at other birds to freak them out lmao

- bearded vultures have the strongest stomach acid of any animal in the world. around 90% of their diet consists of pure bone that they swallow and digest whole. on top of that, despite being born snow-white in color, bearded vultures in the wild are often seen with shades of red and orange painted onto their feathers. for purposes ornithologists have yet to understand, these vultures cover themselves in red dirt and other substances to make their feathers a more desirable color. the theory is that they use this to prevent feather degradation, but I like to think they just enjoy being fancy..

- frigatebirds are a huge subject of interest for scientists because nobody knows exactly how they manage to sleep while flying so much. these birds fly for extended periods of time over large bodies of water, and despite never coming in for a landing- they usually end up being fine. the hypothesis is that they actually take 10 second or so long power-naps while mid-flight, only resting part of their brain so that they can still operate their eyes and wings. neat, right?

- oilbirds, who get their name from the fact that historically people have been known to cook them as chicks for their oil, can echolocate like bats!! this fruit-eating little guy is also the only bird in its family, steatornis, which.. literally just translates to ‘fat bird.’ this is because, as chicks, oilbirds are born and raised to be significantly fatter than their parents. oh also, sometimes they scream so loudly and tragically that they’ve earned the nickname ‘guácharo’, roughly meaning “one who laments.”

- the closest living relative to the dodo is the nicobar pigeon! In fact, dodos are even considered a subset (raphinae) within the pigeon/dove family- columbidae. so… in short, dodos were basically big flightless pigeons. the more you know!

- kiwi eggs take up around 15% of their entire body weight, and are actually considered to be the largest eggs in relation to body weight of any other bird…. despite the fact that kiwis are super small. kiwis are also very reproductive, so females tend to lay a lot of eggs in their lifetime.. like.. close to 100. long story short: ouch.

- birds have knees and ankles and they bend pretty much just like ours!

roping back to corvids.. sorry they’re my favorite hehe

- jackdaws and rooks have been known to not only mate for life, but also choose their partners before they even reach sexual maturity. when eventually reaching maturity, as well, they stay by their partner’s side even if faced with continuous reproductive failure. they’ve also been observed keeping familial bonds and forming friendships!! very social and sweet members of the corvidae family

- the common raven has around 79 different vocalizations and scientists don’t even really understand half of them.

- crows have ACCENTS!!! ok so.. not in the way you’re probably thinking, but it’s the closest a bird can Get to an accent!! and it’s pretty damn cool!! depending on where they live, crows will have vocalizations catered specifically to their area’s murder. the vocalizations remain the same, but have a sliiiightly different tone to them. accents!!!!

- crows understand the concept of zero. this may not seem super revolutionary, but considering the fact it took our overall society to figure it out.. that’s pretty damn cool. (obviously societies preceding us like the mayans had an understanding of zero far before the rest of us did, but it’s still pretty neat!!)

SO YEAH!! THERE ARE YOUR BIRD FACTS!!!!! I never get to talk about this so sorry there’s so much— I got excited haha

I have a lot more but I condensed them to this little list of the ones I find the most interesting! hope this helps!!!!

#birds #bird #bird facts #ornithology #daemnthoughts #rambles

[ppystkposts]

Profile Tag Game~

Tagged by @ticklystuff a loong time ago

Hello - Hehe Hii~ Of course Ppy isn't my name but you can call me that as I have a secret identity. Pipi, ok?

Chat: Tickling - I am frightened about the t word, although I'm not ticklish, It's ok if you try tickling me. But be prepared to when I get back to you "smirk".

Chat: Health - Skincare~ so refreshing! I love taking showers too. Ah, It's about another kind of health....I can't say much.

When it rains - Hm... A hot chocolate would go so well right now.

When it Snows - I've never seen snow but the thought of cold weather makes me exited!

When the sun is out - Ahh... I'll have to wash my hair again today, I hate sweating

Good Morning - Oh, good morning! It's another wonderful day.

Good Afternoon - Nap time!

Good Evening - Let's begin the work!

Good Night - Sorry, I'm not really in the mood.

About me: Color - Red, White, Pink, Gray, Green, Blue, Yellow.... I JUST CANT CHOOSE!! I love all the colors.

Something to Share: Jobs - Multi-task is my middle name hehe. I can do everything and more.

My Hobbies - Karaoke YAAAAY. Release the demons and have some fun with me, what do you think of a duet? Of course I get to do the rap and the parts you struggle.

My Troubles - I just, don't know who I am today......

Favorite Food - Katsudon!!!!!!!

Least Favorite Food - Don't put anything from the sea anywhere near me.

About @ticklystuff - I haven't talked much to them, but seem to be such a sweet and amazing person! Thank you so much for tagging me and for always remembering about my existence. I know we don't know each other well, but you were essential in the process of me accepting myself, the stuff Iike, and not giving up on my drawings.

About @xsezzie - LITERALLY MY SWEETHEART!!! I love you so much, thank you for taking care of me, and being such an amazing friend! I never Imagined to be so happy in this community, and you are a big part of what makes me happy ☺️🫶 You are the writer for my art!

Birthday - I can sing you happy birthday in 5 different languages! Also that's your gift....Just kidding, I'm preparing a surprise at 3 pm on my house, there'll be a cake and a lot of Brazilian desserts! Ops... That's not a surprise anymore.

#tag game #ppyspeaks #tickle community

[idkfitememate]

Still a wee bit outta it (also schools been beating my ass-) but I had this idea and I couldn’t get it outta my mind-

“So… you’re the wee lil’ brat that man ‘as picked up huh.”

Ciel had actually and literally never been spoken to before like that by a man dressed in serving clothes.

Before him stood a taller male dressed like a butler - akin to Sebastian’s own dress - with dirty and deep green hair that teetered on emerald. Bright green eyes with hints of red peered into his one eye behind a pair of chain glasses with fish bone decorations. A wide smile, filled with sharp, pearly white teeth was the finishing touch.

Behind him stood a woman with deep brown hair that near reached her ankles. Her maids dress complemented the suit the male before her stood. Her eyes were so deep in brown color that they looked black. And no matter how he looked, Ciel could not find an angle that would fill her eyes with light, making them as blank as a void. Her eyes were wide, as though in shock, but her lips were poised in a small smile.

“… Who are you.” The boy questioned.

“Heh, don’ worry about it mate, you’d not even be able to say me name! Neither could you for this lass!” The males grin widened as he wrapped an arm around her waist, allowing her to nuzzle into his side, though her dark eyes never left Ciel’s blue ones.

“But… I suppose f’ ya need ta call us by somethin’… I’d say call me “Piranha” and her “Centipede”, I’ll assume you can figure out why hehe…”

Piranha’s grin widened as he stared down at the boy, who shivered in response.

“You’re demons…” He responded, only to be met with harsh laughter from the greenette. He wiped a tear from his eye as he nodded.

“Ey young one, we do be demons!”

Ciel stated before speaking once more.

“What is it you want from me?.. And I am to assume by “that man”, you mean Sebastian?”

“That I do, young one! Didn’t know ‘is new name since the bastard ‘ans’t visited us since ‘e’s been with ya!”

Ciel new damn well he should call said demon at this point, but here was a chance to learn something about him without the demons knowledge, but before he could even ask, Centipede spoke up for the first time.

“No, you cannot just ask any question, young one… well… hmm, I suppose one couldn’t hurt, could it my love?” Her gaze - for the first time - broke away from Ciel’s since their sudden meeting. Hell at this point, he forgot why he was even alone in the first place.

“Hmmm… I suppose one couldn’t hurt, me lil’ black rose. What is it young one? This is a one time offer, free of charge!~ Probably the only time you’ll ever get somethin’ like this from a demon hehe!~” Piranha leaned in, his nose nearly touching Ciel’s.

Befit he could even speak, Centipede took a small pocket watch out from… somewhere, and opened it teasingly, her gaze locking back onto his.

“Tick tock..~” She mused.

A chuckle wrung from Piranha’s throat.

The laughter only grew as did the frequency and volume that Centipede spoke the words “Tick tock”, and both only grew louder and faster and harder, until Ciel blurted out:

“HIS NAME!! W-what were you saying about your… names..?” The boy cursed himself out in his head. Really?! His butlers name?!?! That was the best he could come up with??? Damn it all and damn him at that!

Piranha couldn’t help but laugh even louder at his predicament, but Centipede seemed to take it seriously.

“His name?.. Demon names do not naturally translate, as I am sure you know, but I shall do my best to answer…” She drifted off into thought as her male counterpart’s laughter died down, muttering about how “I forgot she takes this sort of stuff so damn serious…”

Then she suddenly snapped her fingers.

“His name may be best translated as this: Flocks of thousands of crows over a dead mountain range filled with snow. A blood moon rising as pure black feathers fall to the ground into the untouched powder, many crows land to consume the flesh of travelers who have dies to frostbite under the pretense of glorious treasurers and fortune, only to fall to the frosted death the was truly promised when they foolishly left their wives and children for adventure and and fortunes. The sounds of crow cries echoing through the forest as many swarm the corpses of fallen men, pecking at their frozen flesh, picking at what they can to satiate their never ending hunger, few resting in the trees to watch over their brethren. Under the light of the moon, the crows eat well tonight.”

As soon as Centipede finished, Piranha clapped lightly as Ciel gaped.

How was that… there was no way… how was that a name?!?!

“Our names tend to reflect what we represent, young one.” The older male began to explain. “All demons hold a different title if strong enough - AKA the ones summoned at least - like ya darling Crow Demon.~” He smirked.

“What… are your names?” He allowed himself this childish curiosity once. This was good information and-

“This is fun, so I shall delve into others, such as The Sheath and The Spider.” Centipede began.

“I… don’t think we’d have enough time, me darlin’. How about ya just stick ta us f’ now? Hehe…” Piranha gently shook the slightly shorter woman, who only nodded.

“Duly noted. I shall start with you then, my love.”

She cleared her throat.

“My love’s name is that of the deepest depths of the ocean, surrounded on all sides by darkness and the salty taste of the sea filling mankind’s lungs. The sounds of the currents guiding the fallen bodies of sailors through the depths, clothes tearing off their forms as the pressure settles into their weary bones, before their blood spills into the water, the scent attracting a swarm of deep green piranha. The swarm swimming faster and faster around corpses, the blood disappearing into a blinding ball of greens and reds, meshing into the dark background. The sounds of bodies exploding under the crushing weight of the sea. Something from the deep swims up, a larger piranha swimming through the group, taking large bites out of the desecrated corpse of a man who sailed far from shore into untamable waters. Bones of man fall swiftly down into the dark depths below.”

Piranha suddenly wrapped his arms around Centipede, picking her up and swinging her around. His laughter bubbled up again, though this time softer.

“Ey, ya flatter me, me dear! I almost feel as though you embellished the truth a wee bit hehe!~” On top of the soft laughter, his sinister smile had softened as well.

Centipede giggled as she leaned into the man, pressing her thin lips to his cheek. His pale skin flushed.

Ciel stared with a disgusted look on his face. He didn’t care to think of demons could experience emotions other than rage and hunger, but seeing these two act so fucking lovey-dovey was making his stomach do flips in the bad way. He nearly gagged honestly.

Piranha dug in a pocket on Centipede’s dress for a moment before pulling out the same pocket watch she had held only a few minutes before, and now that Ciel could see it, it was embellished with small centipedes. Fitting.

Glancing at the clock, Piranha sighed. He wrapped an arm around Centipede’s butt and lifted her. She practically sat on his arm while her own rested around his neck. He looked back at Ciel and grinned once more.

His grin really hadn’t dropped in the entire time they had spoken.

“Welp, that’s our time young one, we best be off. Now, don’t go pissin’ ole “Sebastian” off to bad hehe! Or at least call me when ya do!~” He wrapped his other arm around his partners waist, and jumped up, scaling the building they stood next. Ciel watched as the two jumped away into the night.

“Young Master? Now why ever would you be in an alley like this?” Sebastian mused as he walked towards the tired Ciel.

“… I believe I have met two friends of you, actually. A Piranha and a Centipede.”

Ciel walked towards the entrance of the alley as Sebastian stood back, eyes widened by a fraction.

“… I see…”

And with that, the two continued on their merry way, Sebastian making a note to find and speak to these two “friends” of his.

Lmao I’m so fucking tired I had so many fucking tests this week ugh I’m gonna collapse ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

#black butler #god i’m so tired #mmm Black Butler content mmm… #This orange I’m eating is so gd bitter what-

[ilguna]

☼ beeline (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; ' Hi darling! Can I request a Finnick imagine? The brother of the reader gets killed by Snow, because the reader refuses to comply with Snow. The reader goes to Finnick for comfort, which leads to a confession of feelings hehe😌 thank you in advance!! :) ‘

warnings; swearing, gun violence, death, ehhh gore not really

wc; 3.4k

–

You smooth down your shirt again for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. It wouldn’t surprise you if there were sweat streaks down the front of your blouse. Your mouth is so dry that it might as well be a desert inside. The last time you felt like this was during your Victory Tour, being forced to stand in front of whole districts to give speeches about the tributes you may or may not have killed.

You’ve never done well with important events. When you were forced to give presentations in school, you damn near cried every time. It’s the thought of standing in front of peers that gets to you. There was one time in District Four where you were asked to help the Mayor with a Victor’s Village task and you couldn’t stop shaking the entire time.

It’s funny now, because you’re quite important yourself, being a mentor and all. You’re the one that goes around and talks to the Capitol citizens for your tributes. You help them in regards to their stylists, prep teams and escort, advocating for them when they feel like they can’t. Anytime a past victor enters the betting room, it seems to go silent for a moment, before picking up in volume.

The difference between the Capitol and back home is severe, though. District Four is your home, you don’t know everyone, but you’re going to be held to their expectations of who you should be. You won the Hungers Games, so you should be able to give good advice to the next years that are coming in. If you fail—as in the tribute doesn’t make it to the top eight—then you’re not welcome anymore. It fluctuates.

As for the Capitol, they see you as a list of adjectives that they can advertise to other citizens. You’re cunning, quiet, sexy, intelligent, witty, sarcastic, hilarious, fun. The list goes on and on of what they could call you if they wanted to. You were a favorite, a darling as they call them, when you won because you were known to be flattering. You were around to make the other careers feel better about themselves, and you weren’t necessarily a threat to them.

It’s so black and white, you hardly get a grey area. Either you’re stick straight for Four or you’re casual to avoid being seen as working too hard. The only person that knows you anymore is your brother back home, and Finnick. They get to see the real you in private, when you’re not a blur of colors trying to figure out who you are.

So, it was a little startling when your escort, Lavinia, had come up to you during the Tribute Parade to tell you that President Coriolanus Snow needed you the moment that it was over. It wasn’t just that, it was the way she pulled you away from Finnick to tell you, and then grabbed your shoulders and told you not to tell him where you were going.

Secrets, another thing that you’ve never been well at keeping. Especially from Finnick, because he’s got this sixth sense and can gut a secret from you like he’s been reading your mind and needs to hear it out loud to have it spoken into existence. It’s a good thing you’ve had practice over the years, otherwise he probably could’ve looked you in the eyes and knew you were in for trouble.

Finnick started as your mentor, the both of you being sixteen years old during the Sixty-Seventh Hunger Games. He took focus on you when he realized that you were the only one listening to him. Your tribute partner found it difficult to take advice from a boy that was two years younger than him, believing that age mattered over experience.

It didn’t, and that’s why you’re standing here instead of him. It’s what got you that bond with Finnick. The two of you are practically inseparable, you were almost too eager to replace Mags in the mentoring program. If it meant that you got to spend more time with your best friend, then you’d do anything.

Finnick could take one look at you and know what you’re feeling without you having to say it. You can’t recall the amount of times you’ve been so angry, oil boiling under your skin, and in a room full of people, he was the only one able to tell. He says that it’s not because you wear your emotions on your face, it’s the opposite. It’s how you move after it’s happened.

Of course, it’s not like that all the time. There’s been plenty of times you’ve been upset and it comes rushing out before you’re able to stop it. It’s the same way with Finnick, he has a specific way of showing what he’s up to. To others, he’ll flirt, bat his eyelashes, give you this look where it seems as if he’s interested in the conversation. He does that when he wants to keep people talking, it’s a flattering tactic that you learned from him. Then there’s the sly comments, the way his eyebrows will move. He’s very expressive, you just have to know what you’re looking for. 

It was a miracle that Finnick didn’t find you out the second you went back over to him, this deranged smile on your face with a half-ass excuse on the top of your head. He must’ve been thinking about something else, otherwise there’s no way he would’ve bought the fact that the reason why Lavinia pulled you aside was because some Capitol celebrity was in the crowd and your tributes might get sponsored by them. 

You’ll give him some credit, it’s not the first time Lavinia’s pulled you aside to tell you meaningless news to you like that. However, he’d glanced at you a few times, he couldn’t tell by the look on your face that it was more than some star? There are times where this boy has you convinced that there’s nothing below the surface with him. 

It wasn’t until after the Tribute Parade, when Finnick was trying to get you to go with him to meet your tributes, did you tell him that you’re requested elsewhere. That’s when he did the whole spiel where he squinted at you to try and get the information out of you. It’s a good thing Lavinia came around, already chittering with an obnoxiously wide smile. There’s nothing Finnick hates more than overly excited Capitol citizens. It’s an immediate turn off, he finds a way out of it like it’s life or death.

All she had to do was drag you away, telling him to go to the Four floor, where you’ll all meet up later, for him to agree and leave. She could’ve been trying to convince you to do something stupid and it wouldn’t matter to him, as long as he’s far away and safe.

You dry your hands on your pants this time, “What am I supposed to say to Finnick when he asks where we went?”

“Oh, you can tell him we saw President Snow, it’ll be okay then.” Lavinia waves her gloved hand.

Your face twists, “And why wasn't it okay before?”

She raises her eyebrows, “You know Finnick’s history with President Snow, it would upset him.”

Finnick’s history. You wonder how much Lavinia knows about what Finnick does, if it’s kept under wraps, even from her, or if she’s fully aware why he comes back so late at night. He’s been doing it for six years now, it started the same year your Games took place, not that you were aware of that fact. She’s been around for five of those years, she’s gotta have some idea.

“Do you know what this is about?” You ask, watching her shake her head.

“No, I was told to come with you to make sure you got back safe.”

Well, getting to the Tribute Center isn’t rocket science, the President’s Mansion and the Remake Center are quite literally across the street from one another. It would take less than ten minutes to walk over, but still they insisted that you get driven. It must be important if he needs to see you so urgently.

Lavinia opens the car door, dusting the back of her skirt, and then offering a hand to help you out. There’s two peacekeepers that appear out of thin air to guide you through the doors. One of them breaks off to resume position, while the other leads you through the mansion.

You swallow, hands neatly placed behind your back, gritting your teeth tightly. It’s expensive here, you can smell it in the air. It looks like vases are made out of gold and steel, beauty and braun. There’s a lot of white roses in those vases, and judging by how healthy they are, he must know how to take care of flowers. That or he has an excellent gardener to do it for him.

He stops outside of a door, knocking a couple times before turning around to face you and Lavinia, “You may enter.”

You look at Lavinia, mouth opening.

“No,” He says, “Just you.”

You take in a deep breath, nodding. You move past the two of them to stand in front of the door, hand hovering over the door knob. You haven’t been in the President’s Mansion in years, much less inside of a room. The last time you were here was when you won, and that was six years ago. You weren’t even here for Annie, that was the year you were bedridden sick. You shake your hands, rolling your shoulders. You can do this. 

You open the door, stepping into the room to reveal that it’s one big office. As you go to shut the door, it’s roughly yanked from your fingers from the other side by the peacekeeper, locking you in. You gnaw on the inside of your lip, eyes finding President Snow on the other side of the wooden desk, dressed in navy blue.

“(Y/n), welcome.” Snow says, motioning for you to take a seat.

He doesn’t smile, you move forward, legs trembling. You hope he can’t tell how terrified you are of him. As you sit in the chair, you rub your hands down the front of your jeans again, not wanting to touch anything that might give away the fact that you’re sweating profusely. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” You murmur.

“I hear that you’re doing well.” He moves to sit up, no longer leaning against the desk. He’s got eyes and ears everywhere, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew what you were up to back home every minute of the day. The Mayor has to report if you do anything extraordinary, you’re sure. It’s a good thing you don’t go around flashing big plans.

“I am.”

“Excellent, that makes this easier.” There’s this look in his eyes that you can’t describe, satisfaction, “(Y/n), I’m sure you’ve noticed that you have had an impact here in the Capitol, since your victory. It helps that you’re close friends with Finnick Odair, correct?”

“Yes.” You say, stomach twisting. 

“Well, the spotlight can be dangerous for someone like you.” Suddenly, Snow smiles, “You’ve attracted attention to yourself. You understand that I can’t say no to my people in the Capitol. When they want someone like yourself, so openly available, I have no choice but to say yes.”

You shake your head, eyebrows drawing in. What is he talking about? Is it your act in the arena? That was so long ago, you didn’t think that the Capitol would be so hung up over it. You even forget occasionally, and Finnick has to be the one to remind you when you’re training tributes. 

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” You manage to say.

He sighs, “You will be joining a program I have organized for certain tributes like Finnick Odair, Cashmere Ritchson, Enobaria Golding…”

It clicks.

You grab the arm rests of the chair to keep yourself from standing, eyes wide and locked on the man in front of you. Is this how he tells people that they’re going to be subjected to his personal idea of torture? It’s been years, too many. Finnick told you that if Snow were going to approach you, he’d do it at the beginning, not years later when you’ve lost traction.

For fuck’s sake, you can’t remember being provocative enough to bring this on. You’re always wearing a shirt and jeans. If the Capitol’s looking at you like that and thinking you’re sexy or whatever, they’re fucked in the head, like seriously. You knew that they were screwed because they cheer on a bunch of adolescents killing each other, but this?

“No, I will not be joining that program.” You say, glaring.

Snow’s eyebrows skyrocket, surprised by your tone with him. You’re about to throw in the fact that he should never suggest it to you ever again when he turns his head. You follow his line of sight to see that there’s a peacekeeper in here. He’s not alone, which is what you’d assumed.

“Kill him.”

The peacekeeper reaches beneath the mask to touch an area by his ear, speaking clearly, “President Snow has given the order to kill her brother.”

You jump to your feet now, “You—”

The room fills with a familiar scream of terror, high-pitched wailing that you’d hear at night. Your brother having nightmares of you being torn from his arms, being forced to go into the Hunger Games, and then dying. Even if you made it out alive, his memory would never allow him to think that way.

Your head whips in the direction of the peacekeeper, “Stop!”

Time seems to slow as you take a single step toward the peacekeeper, who’s unmoving and paying no attention, focused on watching President Snow. As soon as your foot is flat on the floor, the screaming is cut off by a loud blast. You jolt at the sound of the gun, hands almost going to cover your ears, convinced that there will be a hail of bullets in here too.

The room is silent, you think. You can’t tell because all you can hear is ringing.

You stare at the peacekeeper, watching him straighten. Out of your peripheral, Snow has gotten to his feet, too. His lips are moving, but you can’t hear a word he’s saying, you’re not listening. It’s all settling in now, one word at a time.

He’s dead. Your brother’s dead. The last surviving member of your family is gone.

You can hardly see Snow through the blur of tears in your eyes, just one big mash of pale white and navy blue. Your throat is tightening, sore from the way that you’re breathing in and out of your nose, struggling to stay together. You don’t want him to see you cry. It’ll reinforce the fact that you’re just another weak victor in his castle.

“You can go—” He begins to say.

You almost knock over the chair from how fast you turn. Lavinia and the peacekeeper jerk upright at the way you swing open the door, marching past them down the hall to see yourself out. He struggles to take over the reins, walking in front of you. It doesn’t matter who leads. You can’t get lost here. You’ve got all the exits memorized, it’s a habit you picked up after the arena. Knowing how to get out.

You’re grinding your teeth the entire way, begging the tears to stay where they are, wait until you’ve gotten to the apartment. Lavinia sits in the car next to you, and for once in her life, she isn’t prodding about what’s happened. She can tell, she probably even had an idea that this would happen, just not turn out this way. Does she know that he’s dead?

Your brother, the one that held you while you cried in his arms on the floor, grasping onto his body because you thought that you’d never see him again. Your brother, the one that helped you put the pieces back together after the arena, refusing to leave your side in fear that you’d crack. He’s taken care of you more than anyone else in the world has. Through thick and thin, the two of you could never leave each other, no matter how angry.

He’s at home, dead. And you won’t be able to see his body for another couple of weeks. He’ll be there, rotting away.

The car stops outside of the Tribute Center, there’s no peacekeeper to direct you here, you know these halls like the back of your hand. You and Lavinia get inside of the elevator, where she tries to put her hand on your shoulder. You jerk away, not wanting to be touched. Not by her. You can’t believe you listened to her and didn’t tell Finnick about where you were going.

Finnick would’ve told you what was about to happen.

The elevator doors open, you clasp a hand over your mouth the moment you open the door, because you can’t handle it anymore. A cry breaks the noise coming from the television, causing someone to turn in your direction. You think it’s Finnick, you don’t actually wait around and see. You’re beelining it for your bedroom, trying to hide away from the greedy eyes in the room. What if your tributes see you?

You manage to get inside of your room before the sob finally comes out. The tears warm down your cheeks, the breaths of air are harsh against your throat. You lean against the wall, hoping to at least stay on your feet, but end up sliding down to sit on the floor.

He’s gone. His screams were so loud. It had to have been on purpose. Snow wanted you to feel like you were in the room, paralyzed with fear. You were helpless. Your hands tied behind your back. Your brother knew that you didn’t want this. You’ve told him what happened to the victors, even broken your promise to Finnick to tell him the details. Why you can never, ever let your guard down with the Capitol.

It’s too late. 

The door slides open, you lift your head to see that it’s Finnick. He’s getting down to your level, mouth open, shaking his head. He gently touches your arm, and when you don’t move away, he takes it as a sign that he can tilt your head up.

“(Y/n), what happened?” He breathes, voice soft. 

You open your mouth to speak, wanting to tell him. The words get clogged in your throat on the way out. All you can do is press your lips together, shaking your head. You can’t say it out loud. If you say it then it makes it true. You don’t want it to be. You want him to be at home and safe.

“Okay,” He says, moving a hair out of your face, “Where’d you go? Let’s start there.”

“The mansion.” You choke, tears clouding your vision.

Finnick’s eyebrows push together, thinking. Then his whole face relaxes, and he’s pulling you into his arms, hugging you. You wrap your arms around his back, cheek pressed to his shoulder, crying.

“I’m sorry that he’s doing this to you. I’ll be here to help you along the way, you’ll get a hang of it. It takes time, but it’s possible.” He murmurs.

“No.” You sniff, “No, Finnick, I said no. I told Snow no.”

His arms tighten, “Your brother.”

You hum, a new wave of tears hitting you. The two of you sit like this on the floor, letting you sob into his shoulder. Each time you think you’ve got a handle on them, they slip out again. They run out though, and you’re left to the dry tears, which is worse.

“I’m here for you.” Finnick says, wiping your face. Your cheeks are sensitive and raw because of the salt, “We’ll get through it together.”

You shake your head, moving off of him, “You don’t—you won’t want to. I can’t function, my brother, he was… my life. I’m not…” You fall back on the wall, staring at him, “You’ll want to leave so there’s no point in trying.”

Finnick takes your hand in his, you’re too exhausted to pull away. He stares at the ground for a moment, and then your eyes, “(Y/n), I’m going to stay. I love you, and I have for a long time. You can’t make me go.”

You frown at him, “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“It’s too late, honey. I’m not leaving you.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #request #angst #thg #the hunger games

[frosty-the-killer-doll]

Do you have any snow system headcannons? /nf

dude you have no fucking idea

during s3, Caitlin and Frost are more blended together than separate individuals, bleeding into each other and influencing the other's emotions and actions. I believe in system terms this is called blurring

FROST ISNT DEAD NO SHE ISNT LISTEN LISTEN SHUT UP!! LISTEN

Khione did Not get that the name Hellfrost was a play on hellfire for a WHILE.

they do not inherently consider themselves sisters fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you i think that's an entirely uncreative and dumb way to take their relationships and it feels almost... ableist? maybe the right word is stereotypical- to, like, assume that that's the only relationship system members could possibly have? like, someone else always labeled their relationships as sisterly before any member of the Snow System ever did. i just don't think Cait and Frost would have ever labeled themselves like that if someone else didn't assume it first, tho I don't think Khione would mind. as a Killersnow shipper I am biased as he'll but I BELIEVE THAT CAIT IS IN LOVE WITH FROST AND FROST LOVES CAITY BACK. But Cait is repressed as he'll and canon-wise once someone else decided that Frost was her sister Caitlin accepted it bc of her crippling pipe dreams of heterosexuality and normal family bonds and trying to make herself easily understandable to all her singlet friends. and Frost would go along with it because of how much she loves Caitlin and how much she doesn't want to lose her and risk ruining their relationship by admitting her feelings. i'm rambling but they're not sisters. it's like when Supercorp claimed to love each other like sisters- we didn't buy it then, i'm not gonna buy it now, fuck everyone, when Frost said "but you're blood" she meant that they literally used to share the same blood because they SHARED THE SAME FUCKEN BODY. im!! rambling!!

also the body split never happened:3c these headcanons are becoming delusions

ya notice Frost's hair changes over the seasons? pure white to grayish with blueish undertones? that's not a dye job, her hair just started growing in darker and more colorful as she developed from a villain to a hero. Caitlin ran multiple tests on why or how the change was affecting their hair and couldn't find anything conclusive

Frost thinks it's hilarious that she used to work with a so-called god, Savitar, and now their newest system member, Khione, is an actual god. Caitlin still hasn't figured out fucking how or why their alter became godly.

Khione came to exist after Hellfrost sort of deflated back into Frost, going through a sick period similar to that of Caity's little, hehe, cold in s6-- all that energy from Hellfrost and E-Prime Deathstorm dispersed enough to manifest a new, powerful, adorable personality.

Caity likes to say that all the ginger and blue hues of Khione's hair truly makes her look like fire and ice personified

Similar to how Frost maxed out Cait's credit cards on art, Khione absolutely robbed Caitlin while buying herself a wardrobe. she may be an all-knowing god of nature but she does not know shit about currency.

Caitlin is a polyamorous biromantic sex-repulsed asexual, Frost is a polyamorous arospec lesbian suffering from comphet (this is an anti M*rk Bl*ine blog), Khione is a non-partnering pansexual lesbian. i might have already mentioned this but Cait and Frost are intra-system girlfriends

even Khione isn't completely sure how to pronounce her name she saw it written Once and just kinda lets everyone call her whatever K-thing is in their heart

Khione has never misspelled Caitlin's name-- something Frost cannot truthfully claim

Cait educated herself a lot on system terms etc etc when she was first Going Through It as a coping mechanism and in my heart she would not hesitate to politely correct Team Flash when they refer to Frost as a split personality or alter ego. Frost doesn't really give a lot of shits on proper terms but still doesn't like being called a split personality, a persona or ego bc it implies that she is just Caitlin Slightly To The Left.

When Khione was figuring out her name, Caitlin suggested the name Crystal and Frost suggested the name Louise-- they were Khione's top competitors and Khione considers them like middle names of sorts

Makeup-wise, Khione leads more towards Cait's aesthetic, but Frost helped her learn bolder eyeliner

Frost and Khione like to wear fake tattoos and piercings because Caitlin isn't comfy getting them permanently. Khione did not realize this until after she got an actual tattoo. it's just a small little black snowflake on their shoulder. Frost argues that since Khione got a real tat, Frost should be allowed to get one real piercing. the debate rages on

Frost didn't really call Khione by Khione for a while, since it felt weird considering hey that was her childhood name, calling her Khione 2.0 for way longer than anyone would've liked

all three are trying to co-host, they are bad at it

Frost leaves most of the body upkeep to Cait and Khione. she has never brushed their teeth in her life.

i could go on and on but if i did that i would never stop and i have mouths to feed 🫡

#frosty answers #arrowverse asks #caitlin snow #killer frost #khione

[aka-indulgence]

okay okay so ! the reader is sunlight, right ? what if there were different types of sunlight-

Sunrises are the youngest, colored in deep yellows n warm oranges. the most energetic, very curious n eager to try new things- if they were a writer/artist/creator the number of wips would be forever increasing jdhsjf. always the first back to earth when the night’s over

Daylights are the middle child, bright yellows and relaxed whites. also curious, but tends to actually stick with something all the way through- younger Daylights by asking questions until they have the full answers, older Daylights by looking for answers themselves. reader in your moonlight story would be an older Daylight

Twilights I had the most ideas about- they’re the oldest child. warm, fire-like oranges and reds outlined by deep blues and purples. calm, mature, elegant in their own way. they may still be very young when compared to the other gods, but they’ve been around long enough to know that all the benefits and promises the big gods make just hide more problems for those who aren’t one of them. it’s not uncommon for Twilights to dislike their existence and feel trapped as a pawn in their duties, though they tend to just try to focus on keeping their younger siblings safe and ushering them off of earth and out of the way of the moonlight. if reader were a Twilight, when they met Moon Sans they’d probably say something like “silver linings make for beautiful chains”, sort of as a way to show they understand at least a fraction of what he’s going through. another side idea on Twilights is that if the Sun takes pity on a dying human, they can be reincarnated as sunlight. these “rescued” souls are almost always Twilights from the get-go, and sooner rather than later wish they could go back to being human. there’s lots of stuff humans need emotionally that gods just don’t.

also one more side idea, I think Axe would be the Rain/Snow/Storm god and Red would be Wildfire

thank you for coming to my TEDTalk djjsjd

THIS IS SO NEAT!! The idea that sunlight ages with the day and changes colors, very pretty hehe, and the twilight is very interesting! The younger ones spritzy and full of life while the older ones are more disillusioned and wise…

also other Sanses ooheheh

#ask #moonlight #like the color changes #i myself have the idea that their light changes on the where and when #cool concept :> #reverse harem in this au…….. wonder how itd go