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#oc luci
summers-art · 5 months
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A selection of drawings of my OC Luci (2021 - 2023) (app created by @akapanuka )
There is too much I could say about him so just know that he makes me feel insane
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reaperkiller · 6 months
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bit of a prettyboy, isn't he?
comm of luci my oc luci by thee most talented guy ever bones @quickhacked !! very nice art and very easy to work with [: commission him if you get the chance!! 100% worth it every time
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drabbles-mc · 1 year
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OC Moodboard: Luciana Rodriguez (from an upcoming Mayans MC fic)
Luci looked up at Angel, a smirk on her face. "Since when are you so invested?"
"If my life is gonna turn into a fuckin' telenovela I wanna know about it."
Created for the Week 2 @the-slumberparty challenge Outside the Box Challenge: lip gloss
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thesquiddlesquad · 6 months
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Ten years ago today, I started writing the first instalment of The Moons of Aerith. In early September this year, I finished writing the sixth and final part. These characters (and the others that the page didn't have room for) have been bouncing around my mind like a DVD logo for almost eleven years now, and they show no sign of going away. (Not that I want them to)
From left to right: Opal, Pedro, Annika, Luci, Lee, Hannah. The three on the left are the protagonists of the first half of the series, and the three on the right are the protagonists of the second half.
Here are the notebooks I wrote each part in:
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samanatorclub · 7 months
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robdogdraws · 2 months
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she's mocking you 🧛‍♀️
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wis-art · 2 months
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girl night
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sleepukittu · 8 months
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turning heads, breaking necks
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Take the damn shot
A/N: Ohhhhh I've spiraled. Going from Mandalorian fics to writing about a radioactive cowboy with no nose within a couple weeks of each other is totally healthy :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence. Summary: A single quiet day in the saloon is all you wanted. But somehow, your Ghoul partner is pulling his gun and you're covered in another person's blood. Honestly, it's just typical.
Word Count: 1.7k+
(GIF Credit to @djo)
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The Ghoul hates to admit it, but he needs you.
In the same sick and twisted, goddamned way he needs the Vials to stay sane, he needs you next to him. When poison air grows thick and the scorching sun sinks beyond a brutalized horizon, you’re always at his side. Day in and day out, you stick around. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the fucked up world you’re all stuck in.
And Cooper’s not one for generosity anymore, but he gives you credit a lot of the time. He knows he can be nasty, and you don’t mind one bit. In spite of his callousness and general disregard for safety, you put on a chipper attitude and tug him (sometimes physically) along to the next town.  Outwardly innocent but filled with a mutual hatred for Vault-Tec and what its influence had done to the world and yourself, you’d quickly become his diamond in the rough. 
And you shine particularly bright in the shack of a building the Wasteland called a saloon. You’ve made careful friends with a couple of gray-haired biddies- presumably the owners-  in the back of the room, and chat happily with them. Cooper sits off to the side behind you, a bottle of the local brew dangling between his fingers. He’s content for the first time in a while; ass in a creaky rocking chair and boots kicked up on an old milk crate. The brim of his hat is pulled down to hide the majority of his face, but eyes wander lazily from you to the front door. 
Cooper didn’t think many things were nice any longer, but listening to you prattle on with the women warmed something in his dead heart.
“You’re awfully pretty for this place.” The older of the two women, sporting a single eye and an impressively neat beehive style, compliments you. “Gotta be out of the Vaults with that skin.”
The Ghoul tenses, knowing the mention of your 200-year prison would strike a nerve. 
“Yeah. I’m from before the war, actually.” You say it plainly and chase it down with a swig of liquor. “Fuckin’ Vault-Tec.”
The Ghoul’s familiar with your story, from you finding out about the plan to drop homemade bombs on American citizens to your confrontation with the executive group in Vault 31. Little did you know, you’d be sneaking in with no chance for escape. Cooper tightens his fist at the thought of Hank MacLean shoving you carelessly into a cryopod and slamming the button to lock you in. You’d relayed the story to him with watery eyes, and that’s something he absolutely loathed. He had enough personal beef with Hank that your trauma added to his ever-growing list of things to be absolutely pissed-the-fuck-off about.
Finch and Sparrow, as they were so comically named, clutch their pearls in sadness as you tell your story. They fawn over you, and Cooper makes out a few ‘fuck them Vaulties’ and a ‘well as much as it sucks, we’re glad you made it this far’. You sniff just barely and wipe your eyes. 
“Thanks, ladies. It means a lot.” 
The conversation turns back pleasant for the most part, and you’re enthralled as the women pull you into the town gossip. Cooper begrudgingly gets up to piss, comfy as he was, but stops at your side to hand off his bag first. You take it with a nod, more interested in the rumor mill than his whereabouts for the moment. He swaggers to the back door of the saloon, where wind whips sand against his jeans and patters the leather of his boots with tiny rocks. 
Voices drift out the door from inside as Cooper yanks his zipper back up. 
“Is it true what they say ‘bout Vaulties?” It’s a man’s voice, gruff and demanding in comparison to the happy lilt of yours. “Heard your story and always been… curious.”
“If you listened, you would know I ain’t no Vaultie.” Your reply is instant, but the edge in your voice has Cooper stepping a little faster down the short hallway. He reemerges to the sight of a suspiciously dressed man leaning against the wood beam beside your table, a little too close for comfort. 
“Sure you are, darlin’. I can tell by lookin’ at’chya.” The man’s face is half-covered by a bandanna, and a pair of sand goggles are pushed up on his forehead, “Like they say.. everything’s… softer.”
There’s suddenly a hand landing on your shoulder, and Cooper sees red. His gun is pulled before he knows it, leveling at the man’s forehead. 
“Hands off the girl.” He growls. 
On closer inspection the man is probably close to the age you appear. Above the bandanna, weatherbeaten skin turns into frizzy ginger hair. He’s wearing a typical duster type coat, and the goggles are leaving red marks in his forehead. Cooper decides he’s taken shits more attractive than him. 
Probably smarter, too. 
“Fuck off, Ghoul.” Is the reply Cooper receives, sending  a flash of white-hot anger through his already irradiated body. “I wasn't talkin’ to you.”
It was all too common, being brushed off. At this point in his life, it actually brings a smirk to his face. Your mouth is even tipping up at the edges, having had many interactions with the can of worms this guy was prying open. 
“Listen man, I think you should let it go.” You warn and try to stand from the broken chair you had been carefully perching on. The red-head doesn’t relent, and pushes you back down into the chair. It wobbles dangerously as Cooper stomps closer. The movement prompts your captor to pull his own gun. It’s a crudely made pipe pistol, but able to shoot flying projectiles into your brains nonetheless.
“Get your goddamn hands off her before I decorate that wall with your fuckin’ skull.” Cooper yanks the hammer back on his pistol, hesitating at your close proximity.
The redhead pulls his bandanna down and Cooper watches you lean away as you recognize the scent and characteristics of a Fiend. His teeth are hanging loosely at crooked angles, and the pock marks around his mouth from scratching his skin open drip blood and serous fluid. His gun is trained on Cooper, but he freezes when he sees the Ghoul shift forward. 
“Ah ah ah. How’d you like me to put a bullet in her instead?” The Fiend tugs you to your feet and nuzzles at your hair as he presses the barrel of his gun to your ribs. “I’d love a taste myself.”
The suffocating need to keep you safe and at his side fills Cooper’s corroded veins as you scowl at the Fiend whose nose is pressed dangerously close to your cheek with rotten teeth bared. Rage ignites from the anger he’s already feeling. 
BANG. 
Cooper’s watching when the red spray of blood washes over half the saloon, but still doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened. His gun didn’t fire, but the scent of ignited powder fills the air. You fall to the floor along with your captor, and the aforementioned rage boils over. He holsters his gun and scrambles to pull you away in the chaos.  
Thankfully, a quick once-over shows you to have no injuries, but the same can’t be said for your attacker. A foot away the Fiend lies still, about five pounds lighter from the gaping hole in his chest. Gore from his wound is splattered thick across your face and neck. Your eyes are pinched closed to avoid anything unsightly entering them, and you lash out blindly when Cooper grasps your arms. 
“Let me go, you rotten bastard!” The Ghoul catches your right hand before it can hook into his jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.”
“Quit squealin’ sunshine, it’s me.” Cooper growls
While he’s getting a handle on your flailing limbs, a shadow covers the both of you. Cooper glances up at the one-eyed old woman who’s sawed-off shotgun is still smoking in her left hand. 
“I know your brain is shrunken and all, but next time take the shot sooner.” She bites. “And feel free to clean up my damn bar.”
Cooper is torn between staring at the older woman- Sparrow, he thinks-  and trying to contain your squirming. He’s not too fragile to admit he really doesn’t want to take a punch from you right now, so he wipes the back of his hand across your eyes and tugs you to sit up beside him. 
“Cooper?”
He huffs a laugh at your incredulous tone and flicks away the remnants of blood littering your skin “The one and only. Open your eyes.”
They flicker open slowly, and you pout at the blood congealing on your clothes. “I just got these pants.”
Cooper sets a hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. “I’ll buy you a new pair. S’Long as you promise not to get Fiend all over those ones too.”
You thrust an elbow into his ribs at the jab and climb to your feet. Cooper follows with a dramatic groan. 
“Old man.” You tease over your shoulder, observing the carnage from Sparrow’s well-aimed shot. A kick to the corpses’ ribs follows, sending a splatter of blood across Cooper’s pants. You shoot him an insincerely apologetic look. “She’s right, you know.”
The Ghoul follows your gaze to Sparrow, who’s hollering at any remaining patrons that dare tread too close to the mess, damning them for tracking blood around the bar. 
“‘Bout what?” 
You lean into his space, the scent of blood thick in the air. “Take the damn shot sooner.”
Cooper grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward in a hard kiss. The blood transfers easily onto his lips, and he licks it off while pulling away. “Fucker deserved more than one shot.”
Possessiveness floods his mind and he squeezes the soft flesh beneath his fingers. 
“I’da strung him up by his balls if I got my hands on him.” He mutters, tracing another finger through the blood and popping it into his mouth. “After grabbin’ onto you like that.”
You lean into his chest and let a smile curl the corners of your lips up. “All for little ol’ me?”
The Ghoul pinches your bloody cheek. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
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thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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reaperkiller · 10 months
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THE CHILDREN OF THE VIDAL FAMILY - WANTED ON NUMEROUS COUNTS OF THEFT, ARSON, AND ASSAULTING OFFICERS. $100,000 REWARD. APPROACH WITH EXTREME CAUTION.
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cloudywriting05 · 3 months
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one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.
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we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.
part two published, read here.
cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc
words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.
tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.
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“Hey, Snow.” 
The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.
You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 
The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.
So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 
“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 
“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 
He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 
“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”
“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 
“So why did you do it?” 
“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”
He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”
“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 
“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.
You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”
“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.
“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 
“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”
He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 
“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.
He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 
You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”
“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”
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It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 
You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”
“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 
You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 
“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”
“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 
“Perfect.” 
You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 
You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 
He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”
You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”
“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.
“Yeah, I guess.” 
His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”
You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.
You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”
He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”
“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.
“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”
You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.
He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”
He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.
He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.
“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.
“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 
You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 
He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 
You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 
He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”
You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 
“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.
“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”
“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”
You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.
“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 
You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.
“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.
“Say please.”
“Please, please?”
“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.
His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.
He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”
He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.
“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 
You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 
“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 
He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.
“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.
You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.
“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 
He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.
“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”
“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.
“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 
You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 
“You wanna feel me?” 
He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 
“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.
He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.
His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.
You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.
Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 
“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”
“I know, shut up.”
He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”
“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.
You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.
“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”
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pt2 published…. read here.
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thesquiddlesquad · 1 year
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Open magic vs closed magic
I’ve been thinking about how magic works in Moons of Aerith, and I’ve decided that it presents in different people in two main ways.
Open magic: These people’s magic is easier for them to access and use. They find it easier to psychically connect to others, or to psychically attack, and are more likely to receive visions. However, they are more susceptible to mind-reading and psychic attacks, as well as involuntary power use.
Closed magic: These people find it harder to draw their magic out, and it can seem weaker at first. It takes them more practise to be able to connect to to others’ minds. However, they are much harder to attack psychically, and their thoughts are well guarded. They’re also better at concealing themselves from other magic users.
Anyone with magic can learn to use any of the techniques, but most people have a natural aptitude for one style over the other. For example, Annika’s and Luci’s magic is more open, while Lee’s and Opal’s is more closed.
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
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i love soft!coriolanus. big bad mean man being so sweet?
something where maybe you're sick? nothing major but something where he gets to dote on you?
watch over me |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above, you're sick and coriolanus takes care of you.
contains: slightly dark!coriolanus. possessive and manipulative-ish coriolanus and slight paranoia. past mentions of lucy gray. mainly just fluff.
“Is there a reason you decided not to show up to the luncheon today? Left me sitting there like an idiot without you.” Coriolanus was annoyed, beyond annoyed- tone clipped with irritation, stomping through the suite that was just for the two of you. 
He didn’t see you in the living room, not lounging on the couch or even in the sun room. His bristling exasperation grew to raging fear. Sickening, haunting what if’s slammed to the front of his mind, painstaking memories of Lucy Gray’s disappearance. History had repeated itself again, he was sure of it as Coriolanus barked out your name, turning the corner furiously. 
Your tiny squeak of a response came from the ensuite bathroom, muffled by the closed door and high ceilings of your bedroom. Coriolanus bounded towards the bathroom, yanking the door open with a fury, softening once he saw you, crumbled on the bathroom tile. Your head pressed against the clawfoot tub, stuffy nose sniffles that had him cringing. 
“Darling,” Coriolanus watched you carefully. “Are you alright?” 
You lifted your head, eyes red rimmed with irritation. You looked pitiful- Coryo cursed the way it made his heart swell and boast with pure adoration. “I think I might have the plague.” You sounded like your nose was clogged, voice scratchy and soft, looking at him helplessly. 
Coryo grinned, a small huff of a laugh, walking over to you. “The plague?” He repeated, pressing a hand to your forehead- the skin clammy and hot. “You feel feverish.” 
“I am.” You croaked, leaning into his touch. “I had the doctor check on me. I have the flu. I-I meant to call you, but I got really cold and then hot, and-” 
“-That’s alright.” Coriolanus shook his head gently, thumbs massaging your temples in a soft way that had you mewling, head lolling into his touch. “I hate that you’re not feeling well, my love. Did the doctor give you anything?” 
“A shot.” You rasped, eyes closed, body pressing further and further into him. “I think my fever broke. I got really hot so I decided to lay in here. The tile is cool.” 
“I could have brought you ice.” Coryo muttered. “I can have the Avoxes bring you an ice pack for your head.” 
“No, I-I’ll be alright. I feel better now.” You were lying, Coryo knew that, but he didn’t correct you. Not now. Not while you felt so ill. 
“I’m sorry I missed the luncheon.” Your eyes rounded when they met his gaze. 
“None of that. I won’t hear it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead. Were you too hot? What did too hot feel like? Should he call the doctor back? His own worries mixed with his sinking guilt made him feel uneasy. 
“You need to rest.” Coryo said firmly. 
“I-I’m alright. Just let me bathe, and I can make it to the dinner-” 
“-Don’t be ridiculous.” Coryo scoffed, a hand on your sweat soaked back, pulling you up, holding you firmly to his side as he walked you towards the bed. 
You clung to him, walking stiff from the tightness in your joints, a little dizzy from the medicine and the sudden movements. He loved it, pulling you closer to him. How pliant you were, how easily you obeyed and relied on him. 
“You are to stay in bed until you feel better, do you understand me?” Coriolanus commanded, flipping the covers back, helping you into your side of the bed. 
You fell into your pillows far too easily, no fight left in you, body flooded with fatigue. It was so easy to let Coryo take control of you like this. Let him take care of you, tell you what you should and shouldn’t do- do it for you without asking. You supposed you shuld feel trapped, and maybe at times you did, but at moments like these, your heart filled with nothing but fondness. 
“You tell me if you feel anything, anything even the slightest bit off.” Coryo’s hand pressed to your warm cheek, your eyes glazed with fever. “Are you listening to me?” 
“Yes.” You hummed, eyelids drooping. “I will let you know.” 
“What do you need now?” The bed dipped, Coriolanus taking a seat next to you. “What can I get for you?” 
“I’m just going to rest, Coryo.” You muttered, settling into the soft pillows. 
“I’ll get you a glass of water.” 
“Coryo, I’m fine.” You grinned sleepily, heart bursting with warmth and adoration for him. “I just need to rest.”
Coriolanus allowed it, commanding his protempore to bring him his work, rescheduling the meetings for the day so he could work at the small desk in the corner of the room. Carefully looking over schedules and statements and militia plans, while also watching you. Every snore, hum, sigh, toss and turn, sound coming from you had his attention peeked, ready at any moment to scream for the doctor. His mind raced still, even with you in front of him, possibilites of horrendous outcomes and terrifying scenarios. 
Until you woke up, greeted by a small bowl of soup- one his Grandma’am used to make him and Tigris when they were ill. “I can eat on my own, Coryo.” You shook your head lightly at him, accepting another spoonful of the warm liquid, sighing at how it soothed your aching throat. 
Coriolanus didn’t respond, bringing the spoon to your lips instead. And you let him, of course you let him. When he was so gentle like this, fussed over you this way, gave you his undivided attention. 
Contentment settled over both of you behind the closed doors of your home. This type of softness never to be seen outside of here. Tomorrow, Coriolanus would order three executions in the Capitol, striking even more fear over the Districts and weeding out the rebels. He’d be merciless and cold and cruel out there, but for you- for now, he’d be gentle.
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