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mysticfishphantom · 8 months

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Got bitten at work again. Only this time it was a pit bull. He bit bith my knees, one bad enough i had to go to the emergency room. Current statis: floaty from the pain meds.

#fish speaks #fish gets injured #tw injure #fish in the Hospital #tw dog bite #dont worryvim not gonna post pictures #but rest assured #it nasty

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the-californicationist · 5 months

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✨Masterlist✨

This is the masterlist for The Californicationist's Tumblr & AO3 texts.

All works should be considered 18+ only. MDNI - no exceptions.

CALL OF DUTY

Novel-Length Works

Gunslinger Price/Reader - AO3 - 100k - Complete You open your home as a safehouse for the 141, and your relationship with John Price unfolds into an epic love story.

Guardian Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 45k - Complete Konig, inexplicably working with SpecGru, clears out a Konni base and finds a hostage with amnesia, only to fall hopelessly in love with her.

Guile & Guilt Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - Complete Your best friend has warned you to stay far, far away from her younger brother — infamous party boy, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish. However, when she asks you to be her maid of honor in her wedding, you and Johnny end up closer than you ever expected.

The Sin-Eater Price/Reader - Co-Author: @vampirekilmer - AO3 - WIP Captain John Price is a loving husband, a dedicated soldier, and a good man. But, that’s not all he is. Underneath his controlled exterior lurks something dark, something hungry, and something wholly inhuman. You’re his only solace during his wrath, and only you can consume the sin from his shifts.

One-Shot Works

Gauntlet (Kinktober 2023) [External Post] Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 58k - Complete TW: too many to list here 😈 A collection of 30 kink-focused one-shots

Budapest Price/Reader - AO3 - 1.2k - Complete TW: major character death, explicit sex Captain John Price comes home to you a changed man.

Going Home Gaz/Nova - AO3 - 4.3k - Complete TW: explicit sex, voyeurism Gaz and Nova spend their leave together at his childhood home. This is set in the Gunslinger universe.

Gravitational Shift Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2k - Complete TW: Space AU, includes the Force from the Star Wars fandom, force-bond sex Captain Price senses a disturbance in the force, and when he bonds with her, he decides he's never letting go.

Ground & Pound Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 5.8k - Complete TW: NC/CNC, bondage, violence Konig's ex-girlfriend shows up to the base, and Konig loses his absolute mind over her...and takes things too far.

Growl Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: pegging, femdom When you agreed to come over to John Price’s house for drinks, you had no idea it would escalate so damn swiftly.

The Orchard Price/Reader - AO3/Tumbr - 3.8k - Complete TW: CNC, primal play, bondage John Price chases you through the woods to make sure you learn your lesson.

The Fisherman's Knot Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2.9k - Complete ABO AU - Captain John Price rescues a pretty Alpha from a kayaking accident in his fishing cove, his body betrays his gentle nature.

The Honest Man Mace/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: Breeding kink Mace tries to convince you to build a life with him again, especially if it means adding another baby into the mix.

The Missed Deadline Gaz/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.7k - Complete TW: Virginity loss You and Kyle had a virginity pact.

The Fourth of July Alex Keller/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3.5k - Complete TW: Blow job You and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.

The Fox & the Hound Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.5k - WIP(?) TW: Literal porn, exhibition Your first porno shoot doesn't go exactly to plan. Your co-star, Johnny "Dangerous" MacTavish, sets his sights on you and makes you his personal project. (Labeled WIP because I'm considering a Chapter 02 moment).

The Green Light Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.8k - Complete TW: Dubcon/CNC John Price comes home with only one thing on his mind: you and those bright green panties. Even though you're sound asleep, he just can't stop himself.

The Dealer’s Choice 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.4k - Complete TW: Gangbang The 141 are stranded and you’re the safe house manager. You have fun playing strip poker.

The Simple Mistake Ghost/Soap - AO3 - 1.4k - Complete Soap and Ghost have to hide together, injured and desperate in a shelter until their rescue party arrives.

The Devil's Summer Konig/Named Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3k - Complete TW: Rape, non-consent, assault, corpses, violence, named reader A tall, foreign stranger comes to town with his masked crew of bandits. They rob the train station and the bank, but the big one… he has his sights set on a different sort of prize: you.

The Advent Calendar Ghost/Soap - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete Soap gave Ghost an advent calendar this year. It's a little more romantic than he realized.

The False Alarm 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete TW: Gangbang Cleaning the pole in the firehouse was hard work, but someone had to do it. But, when your harness broke and you were left dangling there, free to use for a firehouse full of men… you were in charge of cleaning a lot more poles than you bargained for.

There’s more, but I ran out of room! I’m trying to figure out how to fix it. Sorry 😣

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damagdsnow · 2 months

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Fix my reputation

Pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tag: fake dating, slow burn, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play, smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praise

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)

Word count: 11.3k

note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.

At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.

”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.

You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.

“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”

You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?

”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.

“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”

“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.

“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”

At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.

You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.

You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.

You felt kinda intimidated by him.

You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.

He intrigued you.

You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.

Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“

“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.

His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.

Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.

Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.

He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.

“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.

They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.

Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.

“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.

Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.

At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?

Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.

Check, check, check.

You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.

One of these included him.

Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.

The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.

Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.

You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?

No, the kiss.

The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.

Also, you didn’t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.

When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.

"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.

Of course it was not over.

He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.

You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.

Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”

Not as funny as she thought.

Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.

The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.

The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.

You were their only hope but you became the death of them.

Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.

An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.

“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.

”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.

”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.

”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.

You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.

Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?

“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.

You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.

“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.

”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.

You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.

“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”

“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.

She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.

“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented

“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.

You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.

“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”

“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?

“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”

Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”

“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”

You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?

”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.

“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”

”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.

“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.

”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.

”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”

“Well it kinda is–”

”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.

His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.

“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.

“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”

You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?

“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”

“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.

“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”

”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”

”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”

”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.

“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.

“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.

“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.

Did you just sign a pact with the devil?

He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.

“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.

You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.

“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.

“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.

“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.

“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.

”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.

”For the record, they are tasteless.”

He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.

”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”

Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.

Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.

The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.

You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked.

“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.

”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.

Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.

”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.

Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that?

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.

He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.

”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it.

“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him.

He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.

“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn.

“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.

In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.

“Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.

“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall.

You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams.

Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders.

”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!”

You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened?

What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying.

“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.

You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.

After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”

Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.

It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.

For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.

Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.

He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”

Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?

Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.

His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.

You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile.

You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.

“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.

You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"

“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”

"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”

You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.

You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.

His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.

”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.

You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.

The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."

You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.

Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.

“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.

“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.

“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”

“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.

”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.

A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”

You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.

“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.

You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”

“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.

”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”

Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”

His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.

“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.

It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.

So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.

Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.

As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him.

Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.

But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.

“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.

You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.

”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.

Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?

“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”

You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.

”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.

“He did what?”

“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”

Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.

“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.

You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?

“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.

“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.

“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.

“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”

“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.

You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.

“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.

“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.

“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.

“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”

“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”

“As the sun and the moon?”

“Maybe.”

The comparison did fit well.

One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.

Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.

Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.

Is the door locked? Am I safe here?

The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.

Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.

However, that was still his house.

Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.

Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.

You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.

“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”

So cheesy for what?

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.

“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?

You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.

“Oh so you’re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?

“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.

“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.

“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.

You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”

“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.

“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.

He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”

You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.

“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.

“Just for show,” he echoed.

You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.

“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.

“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.

You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.

First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?

That was not what the script said.

You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.

At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.

The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.

“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,” you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.

Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.

The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.

“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.

“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.

“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.

“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.

The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.

“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.

“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.

Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.

He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.

“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.

“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.

Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.

“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”

Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.

“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.

“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.

You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”

“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”

“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.

“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”

The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?

“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”

“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.

“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.

“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.

Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.

“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”

“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.

“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”

“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.

“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.

You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.

“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”

“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.

You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.

“Why? Did it turn you on?”

His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.

“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.

The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.

“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.

He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.

“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.

This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.

“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.

Fuck. That was not your plan.

You can always get back to it.

“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.

I won.

”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.

His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.

You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.

His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.

“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”

That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.

You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.

“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.

“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.

Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”

Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?

Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.

Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.

Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?

“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.

Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.

“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.

It’s just one bite of the apple.

You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.

No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.

“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.

“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.

Oh.

You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.

That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.

“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.

What was he doing?

“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.

Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.

That was his revenge.

You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.

Self sabotaging.

“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.

Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.

Who?

“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.

“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”

Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.

He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.

Fuck him.

You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.

Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.

Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”

You sick bastard.

Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.

He won.

After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.

“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.

“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”

He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.

You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.

You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.

Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.

He is the forbidden fruit.

I am tempted by thee.

A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all

ask me questions here 💌

Tag list: @daenerysqueenofhearts @snowsgames @secretsicanthideanymore @serving-targaryen-realness @rareheartsclub @metalarmsandmanbuns @jzr201 @xoxohannahlee @blueberrymuffinmouse @icedcoffee-please @xybilipid-post-blog @phoward89 @katherine101 @gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @coolcatyarb @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @phoward89 @commanderfreethatdust @thepassionatereader @anjellaufeyson @xoxohannahlee

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coryo x reader #the hunger games #coryo smut #lucy gray baird #coriolanus smut #billy the kid x reader #young coriolanus snow #politician coriolanus snow

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months

Text

Title: Saved And Fucked By The Moth Man.

Pairing: Mothman x F. Reader (Cryptozoology).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Death/Gore, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Inhuman Anatomy, Generalized Monster-Fucking, Car Crashes, Reader's Pretty Questionable In This One, and Blood.

Based On The Results of This Poll.

You thought it could’ve been a bird, at first.

A raven, or a crow – you weren’t entirely sure. Something big and black that flew so quickly, you hadn’t been able to make out anything more specific than a dark blur and the vague impression of feathers before it was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the forest before you could realize that you'd reflexively swerved to avoid it, before you could do anything to stop yourself from crashing into the base of an oak so tall and so opposing, it wouldn’t so much as shake under the force of the collision. By the time you stumbled out of your wrecked car, the windshield shattered and the engine utterly decimated, whatever threw you off-course had been gone, and you’d been left alone on a country backroad in the middle of nowhere - bruised, sore, and miles away from the nearest city. Really, the only way your night could get worse was if—

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, quaking through the otherwise silent forest. You glanced up, searching for the sky through the dense canopy of overlapping branches and finding it overcast. It’d rain, pretty soon, and you’d be left lost, injured, and drenched.

Well, at least now, it really couldn’t get any worse.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed your back against the most in-tact side of your car, checking if you had reception for the millionth time. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, your battery was in the single digits – too low to justify using your flashlight and risking leaving yourself alone in the dark with a dead phone and no way to call for help if you did, somehow, manage to make it to the border of civilization.

You considered crawling into what was left of the backseat of your car, turning off your phone, and hoping someone else drove down this godforsaken road in the morning, but before you could let exhaustion dampen your better judgement, you heard something in the woods rustle, the sounds of displaced leaves and cracking twigs standing out against the stillness of the woods. Somewhat hesitantly, you turned towards the disturbance, half-expecting to see wolves or coyote or, as unlikely as it was, the same over-sized bird that’d gotten you into this, but instead, much to your relief, you found a group of three men – hunters, judging by the riffles slung over their backs, the dirt caked into their shoes. None of them were wearing visibility gear, and you couldn't say it seemed like a great idea to go skulking through the forest in the middle of the night, but you were already out of your comfort zone. You couldn’t be sure what people walking around in the woods at night were supposed to look like, and at that point, you didn’t really care.

You grinned, moving to call out to them, but the oldest of the group was already addressing you, already stepping out of the forest and onto the road. “What do you think you’re doing out here, darlin’?”

Your expression faltered, but you kept your spirits up. It was fine. This was fine. You could deal with a little backwoods chauvinism until you got to a mechanic. “Got into an accident,” you said, nodding towards where your car where it bent around the oak’s trunk. “No service, either. I guess I wouldn’t be able to bother one of you kind people to call a tow truck, would I?”

There was a long, silent pause. The two younger men exchanged a glance. Again, the oldest spoke to you. “This is private property, y’know. Not a lot of folks come through this patch of woods.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know. I… I’m just in town for the convention.” One of the younger men slid his rifle off of his shoulder, taking it in both hands. The other followed in-suit. “It’s a beautiful area. If I had to get stranded, I’m glad it was here.”

“So, no relatives nearby? Nobody who’d notice if you didn’t get home in the mornin’?”

You pressed yourself against the dented metal, your smile now strained. “You know what?” You asked, forcing out an airy chuckle. “I think I’ll just walk for it. How far could the next town be, right?”

He held up a hand, signaling to the rest of his group. You heard something click, caught boots scraping against rough pavement, and watched a broad grin form across the older man’s features. “Looks like there’s gonna be a hunt tonight after all, boys.”

Your first reflex was, somewhat counterintuitively, to laugh. The sound was jarring, too loud and too stilted, cutting your lips and catching in your throat like pieces of broken glass.

Your second, triggered when one of the younger men moved to step toward you, was to run for your life.

Without thought, without hesitation, you broke into a dead-sprint. There was a holler behind you, a round of hollow clicks and earth-shaking thuds, and then, they were chasing you.

You couldn’t be sure how far you made it. It felt like you ran for seconds, or days, or years. It felt like you traveled miles, or feet, or just a few steps. Everything looked like the same repetitive blur of trees taller than your eyes could follow and roots that jutted from the earth like pikes. Their footsteps remained constant, never growing closer or farther away, always lingering somewhere just behind you, always just barely breathing down your neck. Fuck this. Fuck your car. Fuck this entire goddamn town and their stupid convention. If you made it out of this alive, you’d spend the rest of your life as far from this state as you could get. Coming here had been a stupid idea to begin with, a spontaneous trip planned at the last minute and based on a half-baked desire to see something that probably didn’t even exist. You just thought you might’ve been able to see—

Your foot caught on a half-buried stone, and you were sent crashing into the earth, your shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. You were left on the ground, cursing under your breath and holding your aching arm as you scrambled to get back on your feet, to keep moving before your would-be murderers caught up with you. You weren’t fast enough, though – you couldn’t be, not when they’d always been on your heels, not when you’d already given them an opportunity to put their quarry out of its misery. You’d barely started to push yourself up when they emerged from the tangle of trees, guns cocked and hunting knives drawn. You shrunk into yourself, threw your arms over your face in a last-ditch effort to protect yourself, despite knowing that a bullet would tear through your skin like paper, despite being able to picture your body lying lifeless on the forest floor, bleeding out in the dirt like a wild animal. The last thing you saw was the oldest man, raising his riffle and aiming towards your chest before you shut your eyes.

You heard a shot, sudden and deafening, but the impact never came.

You felt something whip past you. There was a scream, wordless and torn and cut short with a ragged screech and a wet, visceral sound – like flesh being carved open, like teeth tearing into raw meat. It was all you could do to curl into yourself, sinking into your self-made shelter as the forest descended into the sounds of carnage, only falling silent when there was nothing left to cut down. Even then, it took you long, agonizing seconds to open your eyes, to take in the gore splattered across the grass and dirt, the guns that’d been bent and twisted into shapes they weren’t meant to hold. A disembodied leg laid to your side, the torso it’d been ripped from impaled on a branch nearly twenty feet off of the ground. Clumps of torn muscle and split entrails shined reddish-silver in the limited moonlight, but you could only focus on the gore for so long.

Only a few yards away, a man stood in front of you. Only, it wasn’t a man, not really, not when you looked beyond its – his? hers? theirs? – vaguely humanoid form. Its long legs and lanky arms were coated in a thin layer of grey, shaggy fur that grew shorter and finer over its defined chest. You could make out curved talons extending from its massive hands, a pair of ringed antennae curled back along its scalp, a pair of tattered wings folded against its back. Its head might’ve been the strangest part of its anatomy; low and stooped, too round to resemble anything human and too featureless inspire anything but an uncanny sense that you weren’t supposed to be here. From a distance, the only thing you could really make out was its eyes. They were gigantic, nearly spherical – orbs of pure crimson that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Before you could stop yourself, your attention drifted downward, to the space between its legs. It took you an embarrassingly long moment to recognize what you were looking at – the shaft absent of all veins or definition beyond a perfect spiral ridge that coiled from the base to the flushed, lilac-shaded head. The tip was tapered, ending in a sharp slant and budding with something white and thick. The entire thing looked almost painfully erect, inflating it to a size that, even when compared to the rest of its massive body, sparked a raw, preservationist kind of terror inside of you. Fear took root in the pit of your stomach, sprouting up and into the hollow of your chest, making it difficult to breathe, to resist the urge to curl back into yourself and never come out.

Second to only your fear, just as pervasive and twice as instinctual, was your arousal.

It would’ve been impossible to read its nonexistent expression, but as it shifted its weight, turning to face you, you could’ve sworn the creature was looking at you with as much interest as you held for it. Its scarlet eyes were wide and unfaltering, its gaze only growing more intense as it took a step in your direction, then another, approaching you in slow, tense increments. Despite its stiffness, it didn’t seem awkward or nervous, let alone afraid of you. If anything, it seemed like it was trying not to scare you, even if you couldn’t say there was much weight behind the gesture when you were sitting among the viscera of its last three victims. Still, you held your ground, not daring to so much as blink until it was standing in front of you.

From a distance, it’d been inhumanly tall. Now that it was close enough to touch, it seemed downright monstrous.

With jerky, unpracticed movements, it reached down, towards you. You waited for a beat, then another, and when it failed to pull away or bury its talons in your chest, you hesitantly placed your hand in its palm, a knot forming in the back of your throat as its claws folded and everything up to your wrist was completely encompassed. With a sharp tug, it pulled you to your feet and held steady you when your legs, still shaking, proved too weak to hold your weight. You let out a fleeting, nervous laugh, and in response, it chittered – the sound high-pitched and tittering. It was cute, in the way seeing a lion play with a ball of yarn would’ve been cute. You were still eminently aware that the creature in front of you could end your life, but still.

“Hey,” you managed, eventually, unable to think of anything else to say. You didn’t even know if it could understand you, but you weren’t sure what else to do. “Did you… did you save me?”

Another round of chittering, a slight glimmer in its otherwise blank stare. You smiled. “Thank you, I— I’m not from around here, and I didn’t know I’d have to look out for people like that.” You bowed your head, attempting to let your eyes fall to the ground, but rather, your eyes found its cock again, pressed against its abdomen and leaking. The adrenaline that’d coursed through your veins a few minutes ago was already starting to fade, making room for something else, something closer to an anxious sort of zeal. Something that made you want to do something less than advisable.

Slowly, doing what little you could to stop your hands from shaking, you reached out, your fingertips barely brushing against its soft cheek. It nuzzled into your touch, earning a small smile, a trickle of a laugh. “Poor thing,” you mumbled, almost comforted by the fact that it couldn’t respond, couldn’t mock your poor-excuse for a seductively saccharine tone. “Do you need help with that?”

You saw its talon’s twitch, its wings flutter almost imperceptibly against its back. You weren’t aware that you were moving, not until your back was pressed against the rough bark of the nearest oak, until you felt the clawed hand that it’d wrapped around your waist drop to your hip, then your thigh. The tips of its curved talons scraped against your skin as it ran its claws from your waist to your knee, cutting through the delicate fabric of your shorts and panties and discarding the material without a second thought. The open air was cold against your exposed skin, but something quickly replaced it – a gentle, oppressive warmth that seemed to sap the chill from your skin. Your legs were thrown over its shoulders, held in place by its massive hands as it buried its face between your thighs. You barely had time to straighten your back, to brace yourself before—

Oh.

It was more tongue-like than you’d expected.

Not to say that it was a tongue – you weren’t really sure what you should call it. Long, split at the tip, just rough enough to earn a breathy gasp, a new wave of heat rushing from your core to your head, obscuring your few remaining rational thoughts with a shimmering haze. Its tongue (tendril? proboscis?) ran over the length of your exposed slit, leaving a trail of thick, viscous saliva dripping down the inside of your thighs before jerking its head upward and finding your clit, the tip of its tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as soon as it recognized the airy sounds now falling steadily from your lips for the unabashed moans they were. It was almost experimental, the way it bent and curled its tongue, clearly working towards a quickly approaching goal but constantly looking for a way to get there that much faster, to make your legs twitch that much harder, to force the coil writhing violently in the pit of your stomach wind up that much tighter.

It was all you could do to arch your back against the oak’s trunk and clench your eyes shut, your hands falling to the softened ridge between its curved antennae. Only half-consciously, your attention dominated by the feeling of its coarse tongue swirling over your clit, you raked your fingers through its cropped fur, doing what you could to show the creature your appreciation, your gratitude. You tried to be gentle, but the curling tips of its tongue slipped into your tight entrance and the world burnt white, your body jerking forward and your nails biting into its scalp. There was a deep, guttural sound from somewhere deep in its chest, and its hands rose to your hips, claws scrapping lightly against your skin as its tongue fucked into you. It was thin, but long and so flexible – twisting and coiling against the sensitive walls of your cunt, never repeating the same blissful pattern of thrusts and thrashes more than once. You found yourself grinding into its mouth, seeking out whatever friction you could with the clumsy movements of your hips. The pressure, the weight, the sensation – it was more than you could handle. You could already feel it, a certain tightness in your chest, a tension in your core that—

Without warning, without satisfaction, it pulled away from you, leaving you empty and quickly coming down from a high that you never quite reached. You let out a long whine, more desperate than disappointed, and as if to apologize, the creature nuzzled against the inside of your thigh, chirping softly. Thankfully, your reprieve was a short one. With its hands still on your hips, your body still held aloft by its inhuman strength, you were dragged away from the oak and into its chest as it stood to its full height. Your chest was slotted against the creature’s, the pointed head of its cock pressed flush to your dripping cunt. Its wings fanned out, its hips rolling against yours, and a sharp, aching moan was drawn from your lips as it thrust into you, finally filling you to the brim.

For a long moment, it was all you could do to bury your face in its chest and try to put together a coherent thought. Only half of its length was inside of you, and yet, you could practically feel it pressing into your core, rubbing against the walls of your cunt, the cork-screw ridge that ran from the tip to the base threatening to split you open. It didn’t, though, and even if it had, you couldn’t be sure you would’ve cared. Before the creature could even begin to move, to fuck into you from below, you were grinding against it, mindlessly and desperately trying to chase that fullness, that peak. It didn’t take long for the creature to answer your fervor. There was a raised notch just above the base of its cock, a notch that caught on your clit as it beat into you with heavy, rough strokes. A talon was dragged down the back of your top, tearing the fabric away and allowing its tongue to lave over your chest. All of its gentleness, all of its restraint was thrown aside as its claws dug into your hips, cutting through skin and tinting your pleasure with an intensity that wouldn’t have been possible without a drop of pain.

A scream, wild and euphoric, was torn from your throat, and you wrapped your legs around its waist, dragging your own nails over its back as you fought to keep some part of yourself grounded. Even that was an effort made in vain. You heard its wings shift, felt the air rush against your skin, and suddenly, you were breaking through the canopy – speared on the creature’s cock mid-air, being fucked against the backdrop of the dark, velveteen sky. The shock, the adrenaline, the thrill was enough to leave you clenching around the creature’s cock, your vision burning white as you came undone. You might’ve been able to come down, to melt back into its thrusts and its affection, if something hadn’t clicked in its chest, if its wings hadn’t started to move a little faster, if something hadn’t happened and the creature hadn’t started to emit a sort of reverberating droll – the sort throbbing vibration that only seemed to make the friction against your clit, the feeling of it stretching you open more perfect. You couldn’t be sure how long you stayed in that hazy, half-conscious state – limp and moaning in the arms of a monster, always either spilling over your high or riding out the aftershocks. It only came to a climax – a real climax – when the creature stiffened against you, its cock twitching violently inside of your cunt. It pulled you as close as it possibly could and, with one last wave of pulsing reverberation, released something thick inside of you – viscous and warm and translucent. Like sap. Like nectar.

Light-headed and blissed-out, you buried your face in its chest as it began to descend, the sound of your giddy laughter muffled by its fur. This time, when it pulled away from you with an apologetic chirp, you didn’t complain, only pressing one more lingering kiss into the curve of its shoulder and letting it draw back. Your legs were too weak to hold your weight, so you braced yourself against the nearest oak as the creature disappeared into the dark of the forest, returning a few moments later with a bundle of bloody fabric in its arms. A shirt – a little torn but mostly in one piece, taken from one of the hunters’ corpses, clearly meant to replace your own ruined clothes. You smiled as you slipped it over your head. It was a size too big, and it was sure to raise a few questions, but it would do until you could find help. Whatever ‘help’ meant, at that point.

When you were finished, the creature took you up again; wrapping an arm around your waist and catching you under your knees, pulling you against its broad chest. This time, as it soared over the forest, you were able to admire view, the star-lit sky and sprawling woodland before it landed where the forest had started to thin and give way to the outskirts of a small town. Slowly, carefully, it lowered you to the ground, keeping you upright when your unsteady balance wavered. You laughed and, for longer than a moment, you held its unblinking gaze, Eventually, your hands fell into its claws, your smile turning bitter-sweet and sentimental. “Will I ever see you again?”

There was a slight chittering, a gentle squeeze to your hand. You felt its tongue against your cheek and let your eyes fall shut. By the time you could bring yourself to open them again, Mothman – because it was Mothman, you could only deny it for so long – was gone, barely a silhouette in the distance. You heard the crack of thunder, and watched it fly away as the sky broke open and rain spilled out.

The next day, you would learn that a bridge about twenty miles outside of the city the creature left you in had collapsed the night before, killing hundreds.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster fucking #yandere mothman #mothman x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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cod-z · 1 month

Text

| Ch. 3 | New Friend?

Your media consumption isn’t my responsibility | TW: Inaccuracy in a lot of things, injuries (if I missed some, sorry), mistakes and repetition (spellin', names, etc etc), SLOW BURN

Pairing(s): 141 x Reader

| Masterlist | Ch. 2 | Ch. 4 | WC: 3.5k

It's been a full week since you and Johnny were stranded on that island, it was a struggle with Johnny being injured, you doing the heavy lifting for the time being as Johnny heals up, though that could take a few weeks till he's ready to help out more with intense, manual labour.

As of right now you and Johnny had resources, clean water that had been boiled, fruit for most of your meals as you both don't dare enter the jungle to hunt for meat since johnny looked like a wounded animal, also the fact that you had been seeing mysterious items being left behind for you, you think so anyways.

Another pair of knives, scraps of fabric, extra bottles, more palm tree leaves, vines, just things that you know you and Johnny hadn't gathered. Always appearing on top or in your item pile if you didn't bring it along, it creeped both you and Johnny out.

Nevertheless you both did pretty well gathering resources within the week that you've been stuck. Having made spears out of thick branches, made makeshift clothing from palm leaves that you've managed to pull down.

When you were young, your mother had taught you how to use palm leaves and other leaves to create baskets, bags while your father taught how to use leaves and waste for survival. You had a makeshift fish trap, crab trap, weaved palm leaves bags and carriers, hell you even made Johnny a makeshift cane that was just made out of branches that you bunched up together and wrapped it with vines and leaves. You'd make crutches for him but he said that it was too much and just stuck with the cane.

"Johnny, I'll head in and grab a bunch more coconuts and berries, you prepare what you need," you shout towards him from the jungle's edge, the bags prepared and the weapons laid on top of it. Johnny gives you a slight nod, giving you the green light to head into the jungle as you leave him on his own.

This was the normal for both of you, quickly adapting to it. Johnny is still adamant for you to go into the jungle without him since he wanted to protect you, knowing about the weird things that were happening, he didn't want you to keep putting your life in danger. He watches you wave before disappearing into the jungle.

He lets out the breathe that he didn't know he held in, a soft whine leaving his throat as he holds back the urge to go and chase after you.

Within the week Johnny had been seeing a new side to you, weaving baskets or traps just using the vines and palm leaves that surrounded you, using what you both find to have clean water.

He remembers when he had woken up during the night to the sound of you fiddling and weaving vines and palm leaves, muttering to yourself the little song that your mother had taught you how to make bags or the little poem that your father had sang to you with that silly voice of his on how to make traps and where to put them.

He listened to you mutter or sing. He felt guilty. Guilty that he never let you do things on your own when you were on base or during missions, leaving you left out, his reason being that he didn't want you hurting yourself. Funny, considering you're part of the Special Forces, close to nothing was safe in the field of work.

Johnny sighs as he leans against the trunk of a jungle tree, he covers his face with his hands as he rethinks of all the time he had brushed you off during missions, dismissing you when you were doing work and letting the others do it for you. It was ridiculous. How they treated you was ridiculous. The more he thinks about it, the more he grew frustrated and embarrassed, and the way you weren't reacting towards the whole thing? It made him confused, mad, guilty.

You both had been alone for a week and you have never showed any sign of aggression, anger, pettiness towards him, a part of him was glad and the other part wished that you had relished some of your emotions at him.

He lets out another sigh before propping himself up and explores the coast once more or at least go take the left turn.

A scream could be heard throughout the jungle, the sound making you jolt up and packing the last coconut before you sprint through the jungle, following your markings towards to the jungle's edge. The scream was girlish, almost like one of the actress who were pretending to be the damsel in distress, only this time - you had a damsel and you think he's in distress.

You weasled your way through the forest, memorised the path that you were accustomed to, dodging branches and jumping over fallen trees before making a sprint out into the open and follow the sound of Johnny' screams and cries.

You guessed you were only gone for at least 15 minutes before he started screaming.

"Git it off! Git it off!"

Get what off?

That's when you sprinted through the sand and took a left, that's where you saw Johnny with a furry beret on his face? You neared Johnny before quickly grabbing onto the little furrball that has latched onto his face, prying the creature by its paws to let him go, though it made the situation a lot worse.

You quickly grab out a bunch of berries from your satchel and held it out while you try calm yourself down.

"You hungry? Want some berries?" you ask the creature. Its head turning towards the berries before lunging forward at you.

It made you squeal and jolt, you shut your eyes fearing for the worse. Till you heard the pleasant sound of the creature eating the berries rather than your face or arm, you looked down and saw that the creature was a little monkey. A capuchin monkey?

"Huh? You're not supposed to be here, little guy."

"Little guy? More like the wee devil," Johnny grumbled as he washes his face off in the water, annoyed from the sudden surprised he received earlier, the fluff ball had attacked him when he had spotted something in the sand, it was a shiny object but by the time he had went and grabbed it, the little monkey had jumped him and hugged his face. It reminded him of that alien movie, the one he watched with Ghost, he can't remember the name but it left him scarred and couldn't sleep for a week.

"Whatever Johnny, but he's not supposed to be here. Capuchin monkeys live near Central and South of America," you fuss the little creature as you bring him close into your arms.

"Oh aye? Want a medal?"

You roll your eyes at Johnny's sarcasm, obviously embarrassed about being attacked by a monkey.

"You hungry little guy?"

"Wouldn' call me-self little but aye, ah am," you throw one of the coconut at Johnny's head, him ducking just in time. "Oi! Watch it!"

You scoff before turning back to the monkey in your arms. "Let's call you Dexter."

"Oh no, bonnie. Not that name," a smirk grew on your face as you knew what he was talking about, the reason why you given that name for your furry friend.

Dexter crawls out of your arms and onto your shoulder, sitting down with one paw grabbing onto your hair, firm but it doesn't hurt, it makes you giggle however at how he already latched onto you. Johnny glares at the new found member of their little group, hating the fact that little mischief maker had gotten your attention and affection.

He points his finger at Dexter while giving him the stink eye. "Ah was here first, so don't try anythin' on'em."

Dexter moved on your shoulder, your brow raised in what the little monkey was going to do before you started to laugh and giggle. Johnny was a beet-red as the monkey mocks him. Dexter had turned his small body around, on all fours before showing his backside towards Johnny and using his paws to pat his arse, what made it better was that he had his little tongue sticking out.

"Why ye little-"

"Johnny! Leave him alone, you threatened him!" you take a step back away from Johnny who was ready to pounce on your new best friend.

"Wha- IT ATTACKED ME!? And ye gave it fruit as a reward!"

"One, I gave it so HE could get off you, and TWO we're in his territory," you gave Dexter another berry as he settles down onto your shoulder again, taking the berry and nibbling on it as he watches you and Johnny.

"But you said he was from Amer-"

"Y'know what I mean, he's part of the wild and you don't know how long he's been here. He probably adapted," you murmur while fussing Dexter, using your index finger to rub his cheek as you coo at him while he eats.

Johnny wasn't enjoying this 'unfair' treatment, sure, it was a monkey but who's to say that this monkey wouldn't replace him?

He was right. He had been replaced.

It was hours or minutes since you both had started to trek towards the point that you had marked where you both were going to build a raft towards the next island, however the big dilemma was, you had completely replaced Johnny! You had been talking and laughing with that monkey as if it was an actual person when Johnny was right there!

Okay, maybe Johnny was exaggerating a bit but in fairness, he felt left out that you've been taking care of that monkey rather than him, who was injured on his side! Still healing but is helping you out to go to the other island!

He mutters underneath his breath as he stares at the ground hoping that it would give him an answer on how to get you to notice him. It did. But not the way he wanted it to. He face planted onto the ground, dropping the items he carried, a couple of fruits and berries scattered onto the sand. He felt your arms around his body as you help him up, not realising that you had rushed to his side when he had fallen and yet he, himself, worried about the fruits that were gathering sand. His eyes focusing on the berries as Dexter goes to eat the small group of fruit that had escaped, he eyes focused at yours while trying to figure out how words work.

“Johnny, it’s okay.”

The silence that he had given you must’ve been too long for your liking as you give him a small smile, pat him down from the sand and started to walk off with Dexter trailing behind you AND the bag that had the fruits in it. Johnny had never felt so vulnerable and weak before, he felt the lightness when you had taken his bag with the fruits in it, off of him. He didn’t like it.

He jogs towards you, Dexter now being on your shoulder again, and places his hand on your shoulder, making you face him with confusion plastered on your face.

“Bonnie, I’m alrigh’ just give me the bag,” he slips his hand through the strap of the bag before returning it onto his shoulder.

“Just tell me if it becomes too much.”

“It’s just a bunch o’ fruits, it’s nothin’.”

The silence that soon followed didn’t settle with Johnny, you gave him a look then glanced and Dexter before shrugging and continued to walk down the coastline as you three head towards your marking point.

The moment you arrived you dropped everything that you had near a big boulder, sighing and leaning against the coldness of the rock, letting the coolness sooth the ache in your arms and muscles and from the overheating from the sun. Johnny face plants himself into the rock, minding his injury but using the rock as an ice pack for his sore body, grunting at the pleasure of the iciness spike his body temperature.

“Right.”

Johnny glances at your figure. Your black shirt was torn at the bottom from the adventures you had into the jungle along with your sleeves being ripped apart, leaving the shirt to be a vest, your jeans no longer there but replaced with a palm leaf makeshift skirt exposing a lot of skin beneath it. Your hair was frazzled, lack from brushing it, bags under your eyes and you’ve grown skinner, not noticeable from a glance but you have, probably from the lack of meat in your system. Johnny knows he was similar to you but he still had his jeans or should he say, shorts.

“—nny? Johnny!?”

His eyes snapped towards you, he must’ve been deep in thought that he couldn’t hear you. His cheeks flushed red even though he was pretty sure the sun had perfectly burnt his skin already.

“Aye?”

“I said, Dexter ran off with the items that we need! He took the fuckin’ knife too!”

Johnny shot up before getting ready to run after that cheeky monkey. “Let’s fuckin’ go then!”

With that being said, both of you, chased after Dexter. The sound of the little chitters he makes, making it easy for you to both chase him down into the jungle. Your eyes widened at the situation before you start pinpointing certain aspects to help you get your way back to your new location.

“Fuckin’ hell, told ye we shouldn’ trust that wee gremlin,” Johnny hisses as he weaves through the trees and vines, the monkey still being faster than Johnny on the ground.

“I don’t know what got into him!”

“He’s a monkey!”

A sound of twig being snapped brought you and Johnny to halt but Dexter was no longer in front of the both of you, instead he swung up in the middle of the clearing, swaying back and forth and the items in his hands fall onto the ground. The sound of panicked chirping echoed from him, thrashing in the net made from vines, it wasn’t one of yours however.

Your brows furrowed while Johnny took the items and started to head back, but you didn’t want to leave Dexter behind.

“We goin’?” you glared at Johnny, he shrinks in his place for sounding so cruel as he did.

The line of the trap was hidden well and you couldn’t pin point where it was with the thickness of the jungle’s vegetation, meaning you had to climb up to where Dexter was. It wasn’t going to be easy considering coconut trees were hard to climb without the proper equipments and you were a bit rusty when it came to it.

The memories flooding back in from your youth when you climbed coconut trees with little to no worry about falling, your mother and father teaching you the tips and tricks on how to get up there safely.

You grab the knife from Johnny before a sigh left your lips, you look at your furry friend before hopping at the base of the trunk, your hands and feet clasped onto the bark tightly as you slowly start to make your way up to Dexter. The fuzz that poked out tickled and irritated your feet and face but you pushed forward, reaching the net’s line, holding onto the neck of the net before cutting it. Lunging forward as the weight of the threw you off balance, quickly gaining your composure back as you sit up, you set Dexter free before you threw the net at Johnny.

Extra resource.

However that unsettling feeling came back as you both can now confirm that someone else, is living with you both in the jungle, another human. Before you can even consider this being a friend or foe, you need to see them, if they dare to show themselves anyways.

Your body jolts as you slid down the tree, ignore the burn and scratch marks that will stain your leg, the moment you touched the ground you sprinted off in the direction of your items. Johnny following closely behind as he calls out your name, wondering what was wrong.

You burst through the clearing and all of your stuff was still there, you sigh in relief as Johnny merges from the jungle, heavily panting as you are. He drops the items with the other stuff that you both prepared. His hands rests on his knees as he take deep breathes in, he glances towards you direction while he heaves.

“What… was tha’ about?”

"We need to get off this island..."

Johnny pauses as he remembers the weird phenomenons that kept happening, his brain taking its time before it clicked, the trap wasn't yours. He nods his head, finally catching up to speed before he checks the supplies, making sure it wasn't tampered when you two were away.

You started to check on Dexter, see if there was something wrong with him or worse case possible, he could be some sort of spy monkey, ridiculous as it may sound, you didn't dare take any chances. If there was someone else on the island with the both of you, enemy or friend, you didn't enjoy the idea of having a spy monkey in your little group.

Seeing Dexter was clear of any chips, both in and out, you sighed in relief, though you did find a small cut on his arm. Remembering the events, you were setting up the base of the raft before something shot straight past you, thinking it was Dexter, you had ignored it. After a few more missed shots, you heard Dexter screech before running into the jungle for refuge, taking the items that Dexter was playing with or holding for you. Your brows furrowed at the memory before putting an ointment that you made to disinfect wounds onto Dexter, before wrapping a bandage over it.

You stared at Johnny. He was tying the logs together with the knots that you've taught him when he had found you weaving baskets during the night, only asking you once he saw you making traps for the next island. You smile at him, his forehead sweaty from the heat, his brows furrowed in concentration as he looks at what he's doing, the way his tongue is slightly out like a kid. You chuckle quietly to yourself at the sight.

Though your smile falters a little. Ever since being trapped here with Johnny, you both had occupied one another with bonding time, him learning things from you that he never knew, distracting him from having the talk. The talk about the others disappearances or if they were even alive after the storm, you've seen Johnny have panic attack on the third day, unable to sleep from having night terrors and the anxiety peaking at him every corner. He wanted to go look for them but you don't even know if they were stranded on an island.

The bonding that you distracted Johnny with had made him more calmer, focusing on you like he did back at base but this time, he's not worrying about you but the other way round. You didn't want to break his spirit with your doubts about the others being gone, deep down, you hoped they weren't gone, deserted like you and Johnny were.

Your train of thoughts were snapped as Johnny waved you over towards him, probably to show you he did the knots like you had shown him, you smiled at that thought though it looked like you smiled directly towards the Scotsman. You started to walk over, not even 7 steps in that you were tackled to the ground, Johnny's figure running towards you as you were attacked by some mysterious person.

You struggle underneath the weight of the person, you keep your head up to avoid getting sand onto your face, it'll leave you vulnerable if the sand had gotten into your eyes. You twist your body, swinging your elbow to hit the assailant, you elbow hitting hard on something making you wince but it was enough force for the person to grunt in pain, grabbing their face. Using the opening that was given, you push yourself up, pinning them down onto the sand, tying their wrists and ankles till Johnny arrived to use his weight to keep them down.

The mystery person had a wooden mask on, two holes for their eyes to see through, though they were closed right now. Their outfit consisted of nothing but a black loin cloth, though they had accessories, a bracelet that was black and white wrapped with a metallic object. A spear crafted with a big stick and a makeshift sling-shot.

You take note of the sling-shot. Probably what caused harm to Dexter, though you wondered what they used as ammunition. Your eyes land on the mask, both you and Johnny look at one another, thinking the same thing.

Your hands wrapped around the mystery person's mask, making them thrash underneath Johnny, though Johnny kept him locked underneath him. You slowly lift it off the stranger's face, your eyes widen and let out a small gasp, making Johnny raise his brow. Though the look you gave him, he knows, his eyes widening as his heart thrummed in his chest as you call out;

"Ghost-?"

A/N: Annoyed at tumblr for not saving the ending, it deleted it and this would've been released out hours ago but I got so mad. But yeah, it's no longer you and Johnny :)

Taglist(s): @chickennn-soupp, @scarletdfox, @rafaelacallinybbay, @the-faceless-bride, @kariiiel

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

nìnrra

nìnrra [nɪ.ˈnṛ.a] adv. proudly, with pride

Anonymous Request: Maybe you can write something about Ao'nung? Where his s/o is a Sully daughter (so a forest na'vi) and things between them are serious, but maybe his parents want him to mate with a metkayina woman instead?

Ao'nung must find a way to convince his parents to allow him to be with you, despite you not being one of the Metkayina.

TW: blood

Ao'nung wanted to scream out of frustration, but instead, he simply nodded and walked away from the conversation.

His parents just didn't understand. They wanted to pair him with a Metkayina woman, someone who had grown up with him and better understood their ways, and until recently Ao'nung had, of course, been fine with that.

That was, until he met you.

Now, he couldn't imagine spending his life with any Metkayina woman. Not when he had you.

You waited anxiously for Ao'nung's return, pacing in your mauri pod, your sister's eyes carefully watching you.

"Y/N, sit down," Kiri finally said. "You need to relax."

"How can I!" you replied, practically hissing at her, and instantly felt bad for your reaction. It wasn't Kiri's fault that you were so stressed out - you were just so worried about how Ao'nung's conversation would go with his parents.

As the eldest son of the chief, Ao'nung's future had been planned since the day he was born - and you knew you were disrupting that by being in love with him, but you just couldn't help it.

Even though Ao'nung had annoyed you at first, and you'd thought him arrogant, the more time you spent around him, the more you realized he was just trying to live up to the pressure put on him.

You were just about to sit next to Kiri, when Neteyam ran by your mauri, sprinting and hollering about something - it was so fast, you couldn't understand.

"Probably Lo'ak," Kiri said, rolling her eyes, but the both of you jumped up to follow your twin brother. He was running towards the beach, and Lo'ak was just behind him.

"Or not," Kiri amended as you followed.

There was a small gathering on the beach, and you followed your brothers as they wove their way through the crowd.

"Y/N!" Neteyam yelled, turning frantically to look for you. "It's Ao'nung. Quick."

He grabbed your arm, and you rushed forward with him.

Lying on the beach was Ao'nung, and there was a large gash across his chest, and blood was pouring out of it profusely. Roxto sat next to him, also scratched up but not as gravely injured.

Quickly, you knelt next to Ao'nung and pulled off the top you were wearing, pressing it onto the wound.

"What happened," you asked quickly as you worked. While Ao'nung replied, you asked Kiri for a few specific things, and she took off to get them, probably from your mother.

"Fishing accident," Ao'nung said, and you looked to Roxto for a further explanation.

"He was mad. We got careless. The spear slipped."

You bent down, listening to his heartbeat. "It's missed anything vital. We just need to stop the bleeding. Roxto, apply pressure here." You removed your hands as Roxto's hovered, and you pressed his down over the bloody clothing.

Kiri returned swiftly with what you needed, and you got to work, applying agents that you knew would slow bleeding and promote clotting, plus ward off infection. You lay clean cloths over the wound, as the bleeding slowed. Ao'nung was silent, his teeth gritted, through the entire process. Many watched, and you knew he wanted to look strong for them.

Finally, you allowed yourself to look into Ao'nung's eyes, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

"You will live to see another day, Yawne," you said, and he reached out to grab your wrist and hold it tight. You were still applying pressure t the wound, but he was certainly out of the woods. The amount of blood had been alarming, but his greatest risk would be infection, not death from blood loss.

"Thank you, Yawntu," he said, his jaw finally relaxing, almost managing a smile.

"Everyone, shoo!" you said, turning to gesture with your arms wildly at them. "Give him some space."

As you turned back to him, his mother arrived.

"Where is my son!?" she yelled, as the crowd began to dissipate. She knelt down opposite you, and you backed up a little bit - or tried to, until Ao'nung reached out, grabbing your hand and stopping you from moving further away.

"I'm okay, Mom. Y/N has healed me."

She moved the bandages out of the way, closely examining the wound. "It needs closed."

You nodded, and held out the needle and thread you had been just about to use, once you got some privacy. "I wanted to move from the beach, ensure the wound was clean first."

She peered at the wound, her son, and then you.

"This is fine work, Y/N," she had to admit, though she seemed to do it reluctantly. "Come with me."

She stood and turned. You jumped up, pulling Ao'nung with you, and you followed her back to her home. She instructed Ao'nung to sit down, and told you to proceed with cleaning and closing the wound.

"This will hurt," you told Ao'nung as you ensured your needle was sharp enough. You reached out, putting a hand on his cheek. "Tell if you need a break. It's going to be many stitches."

He nodded, gritting his teeth, and you began.

Not so much as a sigh came from Ao'nung's mouth as you put 23 stitches in his chest, slowly, to ensure the wound was lined up and would leave as small a scar as possible on his broad, beautiful chest.

When you were done, you cleaned and dressed the wound, and you had almost forgotten Ronal was watching over your shoulder.

"Beautiful work," Ronal said, examining closely once you were done, and you slumped back against the soft wall of the mauri, exhausted from worry and stress.

"Leave now, girl, I must speak to my son," Ronal said, without so much as look towards you, and you didn't have to be asked twice.

You washed yourself clean, and hovered in the water awhile, joined by Neteyam.

"You were in there a long time," he said. "What happened?"

You described the scene to him, and he flinched when you got to the part about Ronal's dismissal.

"Well, if she doesn't let you two be together now, she's a fool," Neteyam said with a comforting smile. Something above your head caught his eye, and you turned to see Ao'nung approaching.

You sprung up, rushing to him, and heard the splash of Neteyam swimming away.

"Don't get the wound wet for a few days!" you exclaimed, pushing him by his shoulders away from the shoreline.

He smiled at laughed. "I know, I know, mom told me."

You sighed. "Are you okay?"

"Are you? I've never seen my mother scrutinize someone so hard, for so long."

You let out a long exhale. "I feel like I could sleep for three days straight."

"And you should. But first, I should tell you, we have my parents' approval."

That certainly woke you right up. "We... what?"

"My mother said she'd never seen such a promising tsahik before, and we would be a fool to let another clan have you when our people could use your skills here."

Your mouth hung open. "So, she finds me useful?" You had to chuckle.

"Useful enough to be my mate."

You fell forward into his arms, careful to avoid the bandages on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to him.

"We can have everything we want," he whispered, and your heart felt as if it may burst from joy, after the insanely stressful day you'd just had.

You felt like you could cry, or maybe pass out, or both.

"I love you, Ao'nung," you whispered, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

He kissed just below each eye, removing your tears, then your nose, and finally, a gentle kiss on the mouth.

"I'm so proud to call you mine, Y/N. I will love you forever."

Proud was just how you felt, as well. Proud of yourself, proud of your future mate, and proud to become one of the Metkayina.

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #avatar #avatar twow #ao'nung fic

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potat0bag · 17 days

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someone asked for a lore dump of my sea monster au in its current state, so here’s a dump from my alt retrospring a few days ago:

TW: injury, blood mention

Frye (human) lives on a nearby bay and is a fisher with a cute lil boat. One day she gets a tip about some sunken treasure and goes out with the intention and promise of paying off a debt. She takes the map she's given and goes out under the cover of night. It's a long search, but she eventually finds the point marked on the map and lowers a hook to see what she can dislodge. She hooks up something pretty damn heavy and connects the dots and assumes it to be the treasure, but on the way up it seems to snag on something. She tries to wiggle it free of whatever kelp it's caught in, but then it starts getting pulled down. She guesses it's probably just a sea creature and, getting desperate, takes out her harpoon and makes a shot in the dark before the treasure can be pulled away any further. And the water stains darker.

Surprise surprise, she's able to pull up the crate but an injured Shiver comes with it and she's initially alarmed that she shot a diver, but when she hauls them into her lap she realises from scale and tendril that they're decidedly not human. She hit them square in the eye - they're still breathing but are barely conscious when she hauls them up. She looks into the crate and sees that it's weighed down by rock and sediment, not gold or silver. She'd been scammed. She's gonna return empty-handed, unless... she barely considers it for a second before she looks down at the sea monster weakly gazing up at her with one less eye. And she makes a decision. She covers their eyes to try and prevent them from struggling and making the damage worse but it just makes them panic more. "Hold- still- you're gonna hurt yourself more-" and just wedges the handle of an oar between their jaws for them to bite down on assuming it's her arm. The wood cracks beneath their teeth.

Frye does her best with what medical supplies she has to patch them up and remove the spear from their face, and when she uncovers their eyes and pulls away the oar they shove her away and go to dive off before realising they probably won't be able to make their way back home with their limited eyesight. So it's just this silent temporary truce, they don't say a word to her as they guide where to steer and eventually make her halt. Glances at her once, and dives away, supposedly never to be seen again. Frye just feels guilt and- faint longing. It's a fascinating encounter. And it leaves both of them curious.

The next day, she goes out fishing in the noon (having slept in from her late night antics) and something tugs on her line and startles her awake. She goes to reel it in, but a hand comes with it. A familiar, clawed one. She watches the scarred face peek up from the waters, studious gaze barging into her. And they pat the boat. And she lifts them on board, remarking how heavy they are. They snap that they're not, and conversation quickly spirals out, initially panicked and confused, but then. Softening as Shiver asks more and more questions, trying to understand her intentions. She profusely apologises, and they're fascinated by her and become a regular appearance for her.

That's me trying to break it down anyway. They're really cute. Frye has that "shot them in the face with a harpoon" rizz.

#tw blood #splatoon #sea monster au #shiver splatoon #shiver hohojiro #shiver #frye splatoon #frye onaga #frye #shivrye #shiver x frye #fryever

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beanibon · 10 months

Note

I see you’ve got requests open and your Mermaid AU has me hooked 👀 Could you write about Mer!VashOr Mer!Knives with an s/o that’s part human (whatever the other part is can be up to you :})? literally go nuts with this request tbh-

Oml yesss!!! Also I have to stay true to my mermaidness, so reader is gonna be half-mermaid!

So reader essentially is human appearance, but with colourful webbed fingers and feet to help swim, and when they're in the water gills will open on their necks. This is how Mer!Vash and Mer!Knives children would look like in their respective lil headcanons (not saying that reader is their children, let this be separate from those ones xD)

TW: none really, just mating bites, a little suggestive in Vash's :3

You were a bizarre sight, unlike the other humans who overlooked him and his brother. You had a kind of aura that intrigued Knives, that seemed oddly familiar as you went about your work, following Rem as you assisted her in regards to the brother's.

The moment you revealed what you actually were, as Knives dragged your unaware body into the freezing depths, pausing as gills opened along your neck.

Curious chirps sounded as Knives squinted at you, flipping you this way and that as he studied your now prominent mermaid features.

You were patient, laughing as the usually aggressive mermaid circled you, poked and prodded you in his confusion. Not to mention Rem had made no effort to help you, the woman remaining at the observation pools edge.

When his own webbed hands grabbed your webbed hand, Knives huffed. Boredly swimming away, he made his presence scarce around you since then.

It wasn't until weeks later, being informed the news of a severely injured Knives who got into a scuffle with another of his species, defending Vash who 'stole' a prized shell, that you had to look after him.

No one else was allowed in the recovery tank, Rem tried at times but Knives' aggression was too much for her this time, and she didn't want another oxygen tank exploding within the tank and shattering it. That's where you came in.

Entering the tank, you slowly approached the injured Knives, flinching at his high-pitched shriek. It wasn't until you replied with your own did he simmer down, reluctantly allowing you to treat his wounds.

This continued on for a couple weeks and each visit resulted in Knives slowly looking forward to your visits, so much so he'd curl around you while you just kept him company, updating him on his worried brother.

The moment he could return to the ocean, Knives missed you already, knowing you couldn't visit as often now that he's recovered. So he gives himself minor injuries, pathetic scrapes, or even purposely slapping a sea urchin or two onto his tail and presenting it to you with no evidence of it hurting.

Rem was quick to catch on, offering you longer breaks to be with Knives so he'd stop injuring himself no matter how minor the wound was it was making other employees wary whenever he appeared. And Knives couldn't be more happy when Vash dragged him away from a toxic jellyfish to you, instantly having the larger twin latch onto you with excited chirps and purrs.

Eventually Knives and you marked each other, sealing your mateship as he nuzzled contently into you, purring non-stop while you combed his hair.

Vash tends to wander, his favourite place is a large reef just a few kilometres from the observatory, where he collects shells, avoids getting into fights with other mermaids and just harasses the local fish.

That's where he bumped into you, literally. You were diving along with some close friends, friends that knew what you were and made sure to keep you safe. So you can imagine their surprise when a curious mermaid collided into you chasing a parrot fish.

Vash startled very quickly, hiding between some coral when he realised the group was staring at him, you were rather curious going to follow only to stop when Meryl stopped you. She signed it probably wasn't a good idea, but you at least wanted to apologise for startling him.

Approaching his hiding place, you gained his attention by sliding an iridescent shell between the spines of coral, to which the quivering mermaid chirped, revealing himself as he studied the gift. You gained Vash's attention, frowning as you chirped back at him, broken merfolk language in form of an apology.

You were very inexperienced with your father's tongue, but you knew enough to form small conversations.

The look Vash gave you was full of astonishment, eyes sparkling as his lips formed a massive smile. Placing his shell into his seaweed satchel, Vash spun you around, tugging you upside as he admired your legs. You yelped when he innocently spread your legs, trying to communicate how inappropriate it was, only this new friend didn't listen. Not until your closest friend, Wolfwood stepped in.

The overly friendly mermaid screeched at the burly man putting him in a headlock, signing if you were okay. Of course you were, just startled this curious creature was so forward.

Asking Nicholas to free the distressed mermaid, he obliged yelling as Vash hid behind you, rapid chirps and shrill clicks shot his way. You knew they were a lecture of sorts, with some colourful language that made you snort, but that's how Vash made a friend of you.

You frequented the reef often, as it was home to your father before he was poached, now the reef was under protection of the observatory a little further out. So you often visited Vash, allowing him to appropriately admired your legs and any other features he took interest in.

He'd bring you colourful shells and pearls as gifts, whereas you'd bring him either food or items he'd be allowed to keep in the ocean. It became a small tradition, one that lead to Vash making a bold move on his part.

It was another day that your friends took you for a dive, also befriending the blonde mermaid. It wasn't until you entered the water, instantly seeing Vash making a beeline for you. You were happy to see him, yelping as he collided with you, growling the moment his fangs sunk into your shoulder.

Your friends had never seen you be aggressive, not in your mermaid half way at least. When your eyes slitted, teeth forming sharp points as you screeched at the mermaid, causing Vash to return the sudden aggression as he felt justified in his actions.

Nicholas and Meryl tried separating you two, but when you surged forward sinking your own teeth a little too painfully into Vash's neck. Only then did the two settle, Vash's annoyed pouting and clicks turning into happy wiggles and nibbles of your flesh.

You still held a small grudge to being marked without warning, not that you opposed the idea, a heads up would've been nice. Now you endured endless teasing from Nicholas, proudly showing your other friends Vash's mating mark with no shame.

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silversatin2105 · 5 months

Text

Inspired by the response from Grand line dreams Angst ask about severely injured reader

Writer’s comments:

This is a response to the ask answered by the user known as @grandlinedreams, this is my take on a best case scenario, thank you so much for your permission to post

TW: Angst, mentions of medial stuff, potential character death, if I’ve missed anything please let me know and I’ll add them to the list

It had been two weeks and three days since (Y/N) had been severely injured, you had survived the reaper’s scythe that night, its amazing how you did, you were decimated, deep lacerations on your arms and chest, before Law even got to you half a pint of your blood had already been spilled, without hesitation that day Law had carried your dying form to the Polar Tang and emergency surgery had to be performed.

Blood had to be warmed and prepped, bandages had to be removed and the wounds under sutured after Law checked for signs of internal bleeding and any shrapnel that entered the wounds had to be removed and then fish skin was placed upon the wounds before being re-dressed, when the blood was ready it was allowed to flow into your veins as the other arm took in IV fluids, no need for a sedative you were already out of it.

The first night was always the fist challenge you would face, At this moment deaths embrace felt comforting, the natural next step but what about him?

Law had always feared that your devil may care attitude would lead to calamity and so right he was, you fucked up and now the Captain of the Polar Tang had to deal with the very real threat of loosing you, On one rare conversation he would tell you of the brave man whom gave him a second shot at life, to tell you the truth that’s the first time he opened up to you, hearing his story you vowed to do anything for him, become anything for him and right now there was a very real chance that would be a corpse.

No were the thoughts in your mind as you channeled all your energy, all your might, everything into breathing, you were not going to add to the myriad of mental scars to him, NO MORE SUFFERING, breathing in and out you fought, the heart beating in your chest like terrible thunder as in the reality that your coma had sealed you from, you lay heaving concerning law.

“Damn have you developed an infection?” Law asked wiping your brow with a clean cloth, the male grimaced lip bitten as he checked your wounds, a few were red and hot to the touch so he applied IV antibiotics to your course of treatment, the second hurdle in your journey to spit death in the face and draw another waking breath, raw emotion galvanizing your resolve, fight on, live on.

After a few days the antibiotics took effect, the second hurdle back to the land of the living almost cleared, Law was still taking his meals by your bedside, still cautious- On alert, and He left the running of the ship mostly to Beppo after forming a plan of attack for the next moves to make, like before he spoke to you, Asked what was going thought your mind?, No doubt he’s seen some wild occurrences, since his alliances with straw hat, but in truth, seeing you that day on the battlefield, he never dared to hope that you’d draw another waking breath.

Heck he was so worried that he had taken to shifted bathroom breaks with other members of the crew watching you and this was the norm for two weeks and four days, He must have had too much coffee that morning as he couldn’t wait for cover, he made his apologies to your sleeping form and bolted for the bathroom, as he walked back to the med bay he sighed- I better get another cup of coffee later for tonight..im so fucking tired …when’s the last time I slept, were his thoughts as he walked into the room where you were being kept, his tired and drained eyes gaze out to a surprise.

It was you, sitting up in bed your (insert color) eyes looking at him with a sort of tired look, you had seen better days then again so had he, he looked disheveled, sleep deprived and honestly so fucking done, in that moment no words were spoken, just a quietness as your eyes locked, ten minutes had passed and then it happened, you began to speak.

“I’m so sorry captain, I messed up… their Haki was too strong, I promise it won’t happen again” you told him an apology, one of the things you fought through death for, Law was stunned, the first thing from you after three weeks was an apology.

“Is that it… after three weeks the first words out of your mouth is an apology, We’ve all been worried sick, you damned idiot !” Law went on to say in a harsh tone, cold words masking the internalized concern he daren’t let himself feel, the emotions he stonewalled from his own heart, Law in this moment was as before romantically hidden behind a sheet of Plexiglas.

You looked up at him with shock in your eyes, you expected this but you didn’t expect it to hurt so much, tears welling in your eyes you slid back onto to the bed clutching the blanket to your chest, Law grumbled and sighed laying his hat on the bedside table resting his head by your side, a hand timidly reaching out to yours, within a moment, you felt the roughness of his fingertips upon your hand, the hand of your captain, you froze in response, you go to turn to look at him.

“D-don’t look at me right now. Please…” Law orders as you oblige him to take in the warmth of your hand, the pulse on your wrist, a pulse that those three weeks ago could have been taken from him, could he finally bring himself to hope now that you were once more amongst the living, fifteen minutes past as he assessed you, got his heart ready and then he began to speak.

“Listen up, I am going to say something, take it as you will…the truth is (Y/N) I feel deep kinship for you, since you joined the crew you’ve shown unwavering loyalty, courage in the face of adversity. What I mean to say is…I love you”

Law speaks to you, the world in that moment shattering, your eyes widen as he presses his head close to you back, and you blush as Law finally falls asleep after three weeks of hell.

You go to move and as you do, you feel an arm move carefully around you, light snoozing sounds from the captain of the heart pirates can be heard, and so in that moment you smile lightly and fall asleep again.

“It’s easy to promise someone that you’d die for them but even more difficult to promise that you'd live for someone"

END SCENE

#one piece #law x reader #law x y/n #inspired by #Grandlinedreams #angst #writers gonna write #fan fic

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oliversrarebooks · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless

tw: forced drugging, restraints, medical whump, forced brain surgery, implied mind control, stun weapon

It was like hitting a brick wall.

One minute, Toshiro was slamming into henchman after henchman, taking them out at a speed faster than the human mind could comprehend. The next minute, his face was rapidly meeting the floor.

His ears were ringing, his vision blurring as his eyes threatened to close on him. His muscles were weak, and it was if someone had pulled the plug on the nerves connecting his brain to his body. The tile floor was cold against his cheek as he fell to the floor with an embarrassing thump, as gracefully as a sack of potatoes, and equally able to move.

Some kind of stun gun. Stunning... thing. Vibrations. His newly fogged mind tried to reason through the situation. He was in the middle of Dr. Moon's lair, and although he'd cut a wide swath through her armored goons and lab interns, he hadn't spotted the good doctor herself yet.

Which meant that this was probably all a trap, and he had obligingly raced into it at top speed.

Fuck. Whatever that weapon was had rendered him helpless. Unless he could recover quickly, he'd be screwed.

He struggled to regain his bearings through the dizziness, managing to force his weakened arms to push him up off the floor, when the low, strong vibrations racked his body again and knocked his tenuous grasp on control far away.

"Well, now, I'd call that experiment a rousing success," said a familiar and infuriatingly smug voice.

Toshiro struggled to focus on the clean white sneakers that stepped in front of his face. Dr. Moon crouched down in front of him, grabbing his chin and directing his blurred gaze into hers.

"Did you enjoy it as well?"

"Fffff..." Toshiro tried to get his mouth to cooperate enough to at least tell her to fuck off.

"Fantastic? Fabulous? Is that what you're trying to say? I think that's what you're trying to say," she said, nonchalantly snapping thick metal restraints on Toshiro's wrists.

Oh, this situation was getting better and better, wasn't it? He could probably use his supersonic vibration to break these cuffs, but it would take some time, and that was at full power, which he most certainly was not. He was still stunned enough that he felt like he might pass out at any moment.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands now, my dear little hero," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Katie, can you get my guest his little party favor?"

A young woman in a lab coat looked confused by the request. "Party favor...?"

Dr. Moon sighed. "The IV. I'm talking about the IV I had you prepare."

"Oh, yes!" she said. "Right away, doctor."

"And let's make him more comfortable! Can two of you get him onto the surgical table?"

"Yes, doctor."

IV drugs? Surgical table? Toshiro's blood ran cold. What the hell was she planning? Her experiments had roughed him up many a time, but she'd never done anything like this.

"Whaaaa..." he slurred pathetically, flopping like a dead fish as a couple of henchmen lifted him onto a padded table. He was still too numb and dazed to fight, and his window of escape seemed to rapidly be coming to a close. As a couple of scrawny scientists effortlessly held him down on the table -- humiliating enough that his embarrassment fought with his growing fear -- Katie returned with a large bag of translucent blue liquid on an IV pole.

"Oh, you're going to just love this, Toshiro," Dr. Moon said, brandishing the IV line's needle with theatrical flair. "You never get enough breaks, do you? I'm about to give you a nice long one."

Toshiro couldn't help his composure breaking slightly. It was one thing to be injured while fighting, or even to be captured and tortured. It was another thing entirely to be rendered unconscious, completely defenseless against whatever the mad scientist wanted to do with him.

"No need to look so upset. This won't hurt at all. You're just going to get very, very sleepy. You'll be just a bit drowsy and slow for the next, oh, let's say the next while. I wouldn't operate any heavy machinery."

She was bringing that IV needle closer to his elbow. He summoned all of his strength to try and pull away, knowing that as soon as he had that drug pumping into his body, it'd all be over. Unfortunately, his muscles were still largely unresponsive from the double stun just a few minutes ago.

Damn it, he had to -- !

The doctor effortlessly got the IV into his vein with a practiced hand, taping it down securely. He looked on in horror as the light blue liquid snaked down the tube and into his arm, willing the drug to somehow stop before it reached him. His arm felt cold and heavy at the injection site as the sedative began to flow freely into his system.

"That should kick in long before you get your bearings from my wonderful stun weapon," she said, stroking his cheek and looking down at him with malicious glee. "And I want to drink every last drop of your fear as you go under."

Toshiro glared as best as he could, testing his powers. Maybe if he could get his supersonic speed working, he could dislodge the IV from his elbow before he absorbed too much of the drug. His fast metabolism meant it took a lot to put him down, anyway.

He was already so groggy from being stunned, and so focused on forcing his uncooperative body to move, that he didn't even notice the buzzing in the back of his skull until it was too late. In seconds, the buzzing transformed into a deep drowsiness, muffling his thoughts like a blanket of fresh-fallen snow, draining him of energy, making his eyelids droop.

"And there it is!" said Dr. Moon with a cackle. "Isn't that the most delicious feeling of helplessness? You look so tired already. Don't fight it, now. Just let my beautiful drugs sing you to sleep. A nice little lullaby..."

Toshiro's efforts to try to shake the IV off had turned into a desperate struggle against the urge to give in and go to sleep. He was so exhausted, and he could feel his mind zoning in and out, his eyelids threatening to close. But he couldn't give in.

"Don't worry, you'll be sedated, but not entirely unconscious. We can't have you fully under for brain surgery, you know."

The shock of adrenaline forced his eyes back open. Fuck. Anything but that.

"No need to panic, it's not a lobotomy. We don't use ugly words like that here. And my methods are far more precise," she said, as Toshiro's heart raced. "I'm just going to... slow you down. Make you more malleable. Easily influenced, let's say. And at only a small cost to your intelligence."

His half-asleep mind woke up enough to panic. Suddenly, he could move. He felt strength in his arm again, enough strength to try and shake free of the IV line that would be the end of him.

He had to get it out at any cost. If he didn't, when he next woke up, he might be some stupefied henchman to his archnemesis, his faculties cut out and left on the floor of her lair. A fate far worse than death -- at least in death, he'd be remembered as a hero. Not remembered as a drooling, dull-witted minion who used to be a hero, cut down by one of his former comrades.

No, he couldn't allow that.

His powers responded, and he willed his super speed to vibrate his arm hard enough to loosen the tape, to dislodge the needle. As soon as he got rid of the threat of the drug, he could break free of the bonds and escape.

"Oh, dear," said Dr. Moon. "Katie, be a dear and take the fight out of our guest again."

Toshiro's eyes widened just before he felt the stun weapon rumble through his body. His hold over his power slipped, his limbs sinking back onto the table. Disoriented and unable to move, the sedative quickly took hold of him once again.

"There, there." The doctor replaced the tape on the IV line. "Just relax, go to sleep, and it will all be over soon. Poor, helpless hero."

He groaned weakly, Dr. Moon's evil grin fading from sight as his vision tunneled.

"He's almost out. Finish preparation in the operating room," she said over her shoulder, before turning back to him. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, running a hand through his hair. "If all goes well, you won't be waking up as yourself ever again," she cooed. "You're going to go to sleep, and I'm going to win."

Her voice sounded muffled, from far away, and his tongue was too thick and clumsy to respond back.

"Go to sleep. Just go to sleep..."

----

I've been struggling a bit with writing and the Febuwhump prompts looked delicious, so I decided to do a few of them!

New Bookseller chapter soon, promise.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday1 #helpless #whump #whump writing #superhero whump #medical whump #laboratory whump #drugged #sedation #capture

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mysticfishphantom · 10 months

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I got bitten by a feral cat at work yesterday, no excuses I was neing stupid and not thinking, went to a clinic and they gave me a medication which has a side effect of making you more sensitive to sun. I am already very white and very sensitive to the sun. This will be great fun just so much fun

#fish speaks #fish life #tw injure #they put me on the medication right away cuz it was a feral cat #otherwise they woulda said wait for symptoms to appear before taking

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shinjisdone · 6 months

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Hii! Hope youre having a marvelous day. Is it ok yo request Thorfinn x nun!reader? In a scenario where Askkelad and the others raid a church, and the reader notices Thorfinn is injured so she rushes to help him, showing compassion to the people who are destroying their holy ground,,,, and Thorfinn is like, infatuated with how delicate the reader is with him.... pretty please

S1!Thorfinn with an Nun!Reader

Kinda hesitated and didn't wanna put too many religious things here.

TW: Heavy mentions of religion, killing and raiding, religious objects belittled in the eyes of the vikings, the line 'love your enemy' Is used as a reason to help Thorfinn, mentions of Thorfinn being your savior

This one is really interesting.

Imagine the Danish vikings invading an English coast town and moving their way to the church. They only act as mercineries yet still they chose to be brutal.

Thankfully, all you could do was hide and so far no one seemed to have found you. Staying here was a death wish, for the vikings would take their time to gather anything of value, anything covered in gold. That included your holy intruments.

Sneaking out as best as you could, you quickly found all exits to be crowded by them. They knew survivors were here and knew they'd want to leave.

It seemed pointless. You were destined to die here in the church.

Though maybe fate had a different plan for you.

Stumbling across a young man - leaning against the wall, injured and panting. Something urged you to help, to guide. After all, you were taught to love your enemy.

Quickly you hurried to his side. The blonde startled and a part of you knew you were doing something foolish. The blood, the clothes, the dagger in his hand.

And when you touched him, he spoke unintelligable words to you.

Clearly this man was part of the vikings that are attacking your holy ground.

Still, you choose to love your enemy.

Your touch was gentle even as you hauled him into a safe room. You patched him up using the church's belongings.

The rest of the band is heard screaming on the other side of the door. Yet you chose to stay here, treating him.

Thorfinn cursed at you. Can't you see that it isn't safe here?! Just a second too late and one of the men are going to barge in and kill you!

You aren't safe here! Even you cannot be that foolish to not know!

He belittles you in Nordic. Though you may not understand, you do get that he isn't very pleased. Whether or not he tells you to run or threatens to kill you himself, is something you cannot tell.

Instead you gently responded in English. Thorfinn only knows a few words but not enough to understand what you are saying either.

You are both foreigners to one another. Hunter and prey.

Still even in his injured state and stubborn mind, the man's eyes widened. Your touch was the most gentle he has ever felt as you treated him, took out a needle and sew each cut shut - so softly, akin to a sigh that hit his skin caked with blood. As if you weren't allowed to have him feel any more pain.

His grunts slowly subsided and he simply watched you tend to him. Shouts and screams continued outside, both of you clearly heard metal clanking and furniture tumbling down. You acted as if they didn't exist now.

You acted as if nothing but Thorfinn existed here.

Lips pressed into a nervous line, the pain ceased as he started to feel his heart beat against his chest instead. He shifted in his position and you asked if something was wrong.

His pupils widened as the blonde made a face. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as his breath got caught in his throat again and again.

It frustrated him but he managed out a careful: "...Thank...you..."

His pronounciation was awful but you smiled at him nonetheless. It made his heart beat faster. The warmth in his chest was all he could feel.

Getting up and inspecting the work youve done, Thorfinn grew quiet. Standing still in his spot, he hung his head contemplating.

For a moment you grew frightened as he drew his dagger yet he took your hand with his other. You couldn't understand what he whispered but he was already dragging you behind him, with you having no chance but to follow.

It was as clear as they that this young man was part of the band that is attacking your church - yet as he rushed through the hallways and dragging you with him, contantly on the lookout for his bandmates while keeping you close to him - it felt like he was a hero sent only for you.

Thorfinn made sure to be out of anyones's sight at this point. If one, no matter who, was to spot him, he was ought to kill them and that was something he hesitated to do in your presence. There was no need to upset you, especually when he was trying to find a damn way out of this place.

He took you and ran - ran and ran and ran beyond the church doors and beyond the town up until a place seemed the most safe to him.

The young viking looked at you and spoke, even as you understood nothing. With a few more words he pointed towards north before pushing you to its direction but staying back.

There was a soft gleam in his eyes and you reckoned there was hesitation in his heart as he reluctantly let go of your hand. His fingers slipped off yours as he stared at them as if it hurt to even part from your touch.

Again, he eyed you up and down before pointing forwards. First he ordered in Nordic, then in English.

Thorfinn stood as unshackable as a mountain but his eyes showed longing. Still, he pointed.

"...Run...away."

Your enemy became your savior.

#vinland saga #Request #thorfinn karlsefni x reader #thorfinn karlsefni #thorfinn #Vinland saga x reader

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nat-1-whump · 1 year

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🌊 Whump for mermaids

Fantasy whump ideas no. 3

(Both because it's Mermay and to celebrate finally finishing AP exams. I'm using the word mermaid as gender neutral here.)

Mermaid Whumpee gets caught in nets or garbage. Maybe they got captured, maybe they just got tangled up in something floating around, but either way, they're stuck. It restricts their movement so they sink, pinning their tail against itself. They become more vulnerable to Whumper. They panic and start desperately thrashing, but they can't get out, possibly injuring themselves in the process. The thing they're trapped in can cut them, block circulation, suffocate them, etc. Caretaker tries to free them, but they might end up making it worse.

Continuing with nets, getting captured by sailors and getting pulled up onto their boat. Maybe one of the sailors is kind to them and tries to help, but the others treat them like a prisoner, excited to show off their rare catch when they get to shore. Mermaid Whumpee is mistreated horribly, locked in a tiny crate of stale water, fed nothing but whatever scraps the sailors don't want.

Underwater dangers. Mermaid Whumpee can get bit by a shark, scraped on underwater rocks, stung by venomous jellyfish, and more! Since they can't go onto the land to get help, they're stuck trying to treat themselves in the water. Their hands shake as they try to wrap seaweed around their injuries.

Or, if they somehow do end up getting help on land, medical whump (TW for blood). Caretaker tries their best, but they have no idea how to treat a mermaid. Mermaid Whumpee ends up in a little tub of water with barely enough room to move. Blood leaks through the soggy bandages and stains the water red.

Getting beached or washed up on the rocks, struggling to breathe as they frantically try to scramble back towards the water.

Tanks. They get put in a tank that is much too small and gives them no space to hide, putting them on display for Whumper. Whumper taunts them by getting them one of those little fish houses that is much too small. They try to escape by jumping or climbing out, but soon they find that they can't open the door to the room Whumper is keeping them in, and time is running out.

Scales. Mermaid Whumpee's tail is covered in beautiful scales, which Whumper occasionally plucks out to torture them. Their scales might also make them a target for sailors, other mermaids, etc.

Freezing. Since Mermaid Whumpee is pretty much always in water, it's not super hard to freeze them solid. Maybe someone else accidentally turns them into an ice cube while using some ice-related magic too close to the water, or maybe Whumper freezes them in there on purpose. (Look I just really like cold whump okay.)

Actually, just temperature whump in general. Some types of fish need super specific temperatures and can die if the water is too hot or too cold. Whumper can use this to their advantage, threatening to dial up the heat or drop ice into the water depending on which would hurt Mermaid Whumpee more.

(Feel free to add on! Mermaids are more whumpable than I expected lol.)

#mermay #mermaid #mermaid whump #aspen's fantasy whump #writing prompts #writeblr #fantasy writing #fantasy writing prompts #fantasy whump #magical whump #whump prompt #whump community #whump #whump writing #mermaid whumpee #mermaid whumper #aspen's writing ideas

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thevoidscreams · 7 months

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Hello 🌺 How are you? I hope you are doing well✨ I'm not sure that you can write requests so often. But I dreamed about this plot and have been spinning in my head for a couple of days😅 I need to share this with someone)) Sanguinius / reader (not officially married, but live as spouses). As soon as peace negotiations were held on the entry of a rich and developed planet into the Imperium, everything went smoothly and the government surrendered quickly. Thus, Sanguinius and his Astartes did not have to show their tough fighting side. Everyone on the planet considers him a peaceful, calm person with a beautiful appearance. So it is with his legion. And so, while the last negotiations were taking place, the reader (she constantly accompanies the primarch on his campaigns when the fighting remains on the flagship with trusted bodyguards) is walking with several Astartes through the water gardens when she is attacked by a group of dissenting rebels. Although they are quickly disarmed, they manage to injure the reader. How would Sanguinius react and what did he do? Maybe he fell into the Black Fury? And let him, as a result, be very worried about what the reader now thinks of him. But she will say that in anger he looks even hotter and sexier than usual)))

I like this idea :3 I kinda diverted a bit, though. Sorry.

Also, I'm sorry they keep taking so long.

TWs: Gore, blood and death. (You live though bby don't worry 😘)

It was like the stories of old. The fall of the mightiest angel of God.

His wings blotted out the sun as you feebly looked up from the blood-stained water of the cute fish pond you'd been admiring, not even five minutes before.

Your blood flowed from a gash across your chest and over the opulent white marble and mingled with the blood of the rebels as your guards cut them down.

Your smile was one of shock, and your head felt light with blood loss. He was coming to save you. He didn't draw his sword to fight, and you were certain, in your heart, that he would scoop you up and fly you away to safety. But he didn't, and you became entirely aware of the horrors before you as you saw the love of your life land in the fray, rending tiny human forms to bloody piles of meat and sinew and bones by hand. Steaming, stinking offal was scattered over stone and foliage as he ripped his way through terrified men and women. His eyes black as pitch and his pristine white feathers that had been so clean and perfectly preened through all the peace talks were now stained a violently bright crimson. He opened his mouth, and your whole body rang as he roared in furious hatred.

Now you understood why he'd never let you see him after a fight. Why you always had to wait for him to wash and clean his armor after taking the field of battle.

But what you weren't prepared for was the sheer animalistic nature of the man you loved. As he tore the upper half of a man away and poured the blood into his mouth, squeezing the body to paste to get even more of the coppery liquid.

A shakey hand raised up as your fingers slid over the gapping wound in your chest, and your stomach turned.

There was so much violence around you that you figured you'd gotten lost in the uproar. But those pitch black eyes found you, bleeding and alone by the water side. His face softened, and something like sanity returned to his face, then guilt and terror and panic. He stole towards you, his arms reaching out for you. You felt a pang of fear lance your racing heart, as you tried to push yourself up your shoulder was caught by the heavy boot of a fleeing rebel and your body slid over the edge of the pond.

It was deeper than you thought it'd be, the pond that is. It was at least ten feet in the little divet your body settled in. It was oddly quiet, too. The sound of bolters was muffled by the deep layer of water, and the pressure made your ears pop. Bubbles flowed up from your lips and rose happily towards the surface. But they were broken apart by a massive golden gauntlet. The gauntlet became an arm and then a shoulder and then the rest of the primarch as he came in after you.

The fresh crimson was diluted in the water as he scooped up your small delicate form and hauled you out from under the surface with ease.

"Darling?!" He called down to you. Your eyes glazed and unfocused. You must have looked like a drowned rat in his arms. The last thing you remember as the world went dark around you was the look of shock and pain in his eyes as he shook you gingerly and called your name. Then, nothing but fragments of hectic scattered dreams and dark eyes and crimson stained lips.

The medical wing was never a comfortable temperature, and the beds were always a bit too hard for your liking. So it surprised you to wake up in a comfortable bed in a comfortable room. It was dim, and your eyes were blurry, so your surroundings were a bit hard to make out.

You were dry and in a fresh medical gown. The gash in your chest was sore, and the stitches were still fresh.

As you got up, you realized you were tied to several machines that read out your condition. Heart rate, blood pressure, and other things you weren't sure what they were.

With a tug, you pulled the sticky pads from your arms and unlocked the finger monitor. The beeping became a quiet alarm as the rate on the monitor dropped to zero, and you giggled as you watched the line go flat.

Just as you were about to turn to look for someone to ask about the events prior to you waking up here, the door burst open. Sanguinius stood in the doorway, his wings puffed up with panic as he surveyed the room, which you were just realizing was yours and his.

His ruffled wings calmed as he made his way around the bed and scooped you up into loving and gentle arms.

"Please, don't do that again." He kissed the top of your head as he returned you to the mattress and pulled the blankets up over you.

"What happened?" You asked, Sanguinius looked a bit uneasy at the question and took a deep breath.

"You were attacked by a group of insurgents who were unhappy about the union of their planet and its government and the imperium." He watched you carefully as he gave his answer and then you asked another question. One that made his hearts drop.

"And what about you? What happened to you down there? I've never seen you like that before."

Sanguinius looked ashamed, like he'd been caught in the act, doing something indecent. He sat on the edge of the bed, and his head hung low, wings similarly drooping.

"I... " He wasn't sure how to begin, but he knew he could no longer keep it from you. His beloved one, his own angel. His light.

"I lost control, I fell to my rage. After I heard over the vox that you'd been attacked... that you'd been hurt. I fell to the darkness inside me, and I let it guide my actions." He breathing quickened. And he turned to look at you, his eyes sincere and brimming with tears. "I would never hurt you. I promise, my rage could never be for you, I love you, and I would die before I lost control like that around you ever again. I promise you are safe." He assured. Sanguinius seemed almost desperate for you to believe him, as though your belief would make it true.

"I believe you, Sangy. I love you too." You got out from under the blankets again to go to him. Crawling onto his lap and pulling his arms around you. "Thank you for coming to save me."

The angel seemed surprised and then very, very happy. "Of course darling. I would never leave you for dead."

"I know you wouldn't." You assured him and took his large hand into yours. "If I'm being honest... I kinda liked it." You admitted quietly.

Sanguinius face twisted to an expression somewhere between horror and revulsion. "What could you possibly mean by that?" The primarch asked, his voice still gentle despite his sudden sinking, disgusted feelings. How could you have enjoyed a display like the one in the gardens?

"You were angry; angry because I got hurt. You loved me enough to tear the gardens apart to save me. I liked that you love me enough to feel that kind of anger. It proves to me that you really do view me as more than just another base line human." Your cheeks felt warm as Sanguinius hugged you even closer.

"Well of course, but I would have thought that would be evident by all the other things we do together."

He kissed your cheek, then moved down to your throat and kissed it too.

You sighed happily and shivered with pleasure. You still couldn't help but feel a certain sort of heat as you pictured his angered form descending from above to destroy his enemies and protect you.

"There's also a certain kind of beauty to your rage. A dark beauty that feels forbidden. And the danger of it is alluring."

"You're playing with fire here." He whispered against your tender neck. Feeling his fangs score your skin, you shivered again, half in fear and desire.

He laid you back but stopped suddenly as he heard you hiss in pain.

"Darling?"

"Just the wound." You admitted sheepishly.

"Ah, of course. I am sorry for my thoughtless behavior, I should not be getting riled up when you are this injured. Forgive me." He placed you down so softly, so sweetly, you could have never been mad.

"All is forgiven, although you didn't need my forgiveness." You kissed him, and he felt that bone deep need to care for and protect you. His most precious one.

Sanguinius stayed until you were asleep again, leaving you with a soft kiss on the forehead.

"I will be back soon my dove."

The planet's leaders had been truly contrite about the garden incident. Handing over all of the surviving rebels to be dealt with as part of their deal to keep peace. Sanguinius had demanded it, demanded justice be left to him to deliver. They'd agreed, not wanting to anger this angel of death.

Sanguinius made his way down to the Red Tear's brigg, his anger growing as he went. He'd have his justice for you himself now that he knew you'd live. He'd not even let himself consider the other side. Losing you. And his heart was ever so lighter for not losing you.

But still, that darkness roiled under the surface, the need to punish them for trying to kill you growing with each step.

By the time he'd made it to the cells holding them, he'd made up his mind. For your sake, he would be just... and make it quick.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #40k #fanfiction #primarchs #primarch #primarch x reader #sanguinius x reader #sanguinius #my writing #he bout to kill them bitches #he really does love you

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