#(Rose) The Rebell in the rebellion

[wonder-worker]

"The division between the two families [the Woodvilles and the Nevilles] and their allies can be seen in the royal charters that they witnessed. Warwick, Rivers and Archbishop Neville of York, while serving as chancellor and afterwards, were fairly constant witnesses to royal charters and consequently often appeared together. This was not, however, the case for other family members and friends. From 1466 to 1469, if Scales or Woodville associates like Sir John Fogge, John Lord Audley or Humphrey Lord Stafford of Southwick witnessed royal charters, then members of the Neville group, such as John Neville, earl of Northumberland, or John Lord Wenlock would not, and vice versa. Discounting the ubiquitous Warwick, Rivers and Archbishop Neville, of the twenty-four charters issued between February 1466 and June 1469, twelve were witnessed by men associated with the Woodvilles, eight by men associated with the Nevilles and two were witnessed by no member of either group beyond the two earls at their heads and the archbishop; only two charters, both from 1466, featured associates of both families.

Such striking segregation of witnesses suggests that something more than simple convenience or availability was at play. [...] The evidence of these witness lists does show the extent of the split between the two groups from early in Edward's reign and of the need for political society to work with that cleavage in the heart of the Yorkist regime."

— Theron Westervelt, "Royal charter witness lists and the politics of the reign of Edward IV"

*This is specifically applicable for Edward IV's first reign; in contrast, the charters in his second reign displayed a great deal of aristocratic and domestic unity and cohesion.

[book-challenger]

Travel Destination: Hungary

Blood Rose Rebellion by Rosalyn Eves

16 year old Anna Arden is barred from society by a defect of blood. Though her family is part of the Luminate, powerful users of magic, she is Barren, unable to perform the simplest of spells. Anna would do anything to belong.

After breaking her sister's debutante spell, Anna is exiled to Hungary, and her life might as well be over. However she discovers that nothing is quite as it seems. Not the people around her, from her aloof cousin Noémi to the fierce and handsome Romani, not the society she's known all her life.

With rebellion sweeping the lands, Anna might be the catalyst to it all, Anna must choose: deny her unique power and cling to the life she's always wanted, or embrace her ability and change that world forever.

This Rebel Heart by Katherine Locke

In the middle of Budapest, there is a river. Csilla knows the river is magic. During WWII, the river kept her family safe when they needed it most, But that was before the Communists seized power. Before her parents were murdered by the Soviet police. Before Csilla knew things about her father’s legacy that she wishes she could forget.

Now Csilla keeps her head down, planning her escape from this country that has never loved her the way she loves it. But her carefully laid plans fall to pieces when her parents are unexpectedly, publicly exonerated.

Blood Countess by Lana Popović

In 17th century Hungary, Anna Darvulia has just begun working as a scullery maid for the young and glamorous Countess Elizabeth Báthory. When Elizabeth takes a liking to Anna, she's vaulted to the dream role of chambermaid, a far cry from the filthy servants' quarters below. She receives wages generous enough to provide for her family.

However this dream doesn’t last long and It's not long before Anna falls completely under the Countess's spell, the Countess takes full advantage of this. Isolating her from her former friends, family, and fiancé, Anna realizes she's not a friend but a prisoner of the increasingly cruel Elizabeth. Then come the murders, and Anna knows it's only a matter of time before the Blood Countess turns on her, too.

The Door by Magda Szabó

A busy young writer struggling to cope with domestic chores, hires a housekeeper recommended by a friend. The housekeeper's reputation is one built on dependable efficiency, though she is something of an oddity. Stubborn, foul-mouthed and with a flagrant disregard for her employer's opinions she may even be crazy. She allows no one to set foot inside her house; she masks herself with a veil and is equally guarded about her personal life. And yet Emerence is revered as much as she is feared.

Embers by Sándor Márai

In a secluded woodland castle an old General prepares to receive a rare visitor, a man who was once his closest friend but who he has not seen in forty-one years. Over the ensuing hours host and guest will fight a duel of words and silences, accusations and evasions. They will exhume the memory of their friendship and that of the General's beautiful, long-dead wife. And they will return to the time the three of them last sat together following a hunt in the nearby forest, a hunt in which no game was taken but during which something was lost forever.

[sonic-rebellion-official]

PAGE 3 • PART 1

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[maxx-the-queer]

One of my criticisms about Dragon Age, and this isn't unique to Veilguard, is how antirevolutionary their narratives are. (Spoilers for Veilguard ahead, naturally)

Narratively, they're not adverse to all change (since stories have to have some change in order to exist) but they're hardly accepting of it either.

Any change that happens to the status quo has to happen within the system, otherwise it's deemed extremism and wrong in universe.

Contrast that with when Anders or Grand Enchanter Fiona take actions against the systems of the Circles that spark the mage rebellion - they're vilified for it by the narrative and everyone around them. They're painted as fools at best, malicious murderers at worst. All because their steps for change were taken outside of the system. (Anders blows up a Chantry, Fiona starts a vote to disband the Circle of Magi)

In a worldstate where Leliana becomes Divine Victoria and disbands the Circles to allow for the formation of the College of Enchanters, she's celebrated because she stayed within the Chantry, rose to the top through unconventional but still allowable means, yet achieved radical societal change nonetheless.

If Dorian becomes Archon, his anti-slavery views aren't seen as unreasonable or too radical because he stays within the system. His work with the Shadow Dragons - an anti-slavery group, who by all standards aren't that different from the mage rebellion in the south, is deemed different because their leaders are still trying to work with the systems for change.

Solas gets both versions of this anti-revolutionary treatment. In Inquisition, he felt honestly quite reasonable to me in his motivations to tear down the veil, but he can't escape that same vilification as when he's trying to fit the mould of a force for rebellion, he's treated like a monster or has significantly more flaws in the narrative. When his motivations are framed as complete systematic change, he's shown to not view anyone in modern Thedas as 'real people.' In one of his approval scenes in Inq, he goes out of his way to tell the Inquisitor essentially "you're one of the good ones." He's ignorant, racist, and singlemindedly focused on destroying the world to have a second Elvhenan but better.

But in Veilguard, in order for the narrative to consider him redeemable, his reasons for wanting the veil to come down get changed from wanting betterment for the elves and restoring the Elvhen people, into personal regrets he needs to fulfill. He's no longer framed solely as a political, rebellious force for change, but as a mere man who went too far for a woman he loved. Suddenly the narrative gives the player permission to give him redemption. Because he doesn't actually want change, it's just what he thought Mythal wanted, so that's fine and different.

Your player character protagonist can never actually flat-out agree with the vilified rebel characters either. I can't have my pro-mage rights Hawke say "hey, actually, Anders was right to blow up the Chantry, I agree with him," you always have to ultimately condemn his actions, even if you agree with the outcome.

I can't have my Dalish Inquisitor or an Elven Rook say "hey, actually, maybe Solas has a point, this world does suck for elves and maybe the veil coming down would fix that," they always have to ultimately believe that the veil has to stay.

The games do everything they can to avoid letting the player come to the conclusion that revolution is a good thing. Instead, they force the idea that the only way change is ethical is if you do it within the preexisting status quo.

[andy-15-07]

Hi,

I love your work. Can we get a story about marcus conquering a city and then be in a political marriage with the princess of the fallen city ? She hates him at first and then of course they both fall for each other

The Princess of a Fallen City

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1961 | Requests are open! (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The city of Lystra fell under a blood-red sky. Marcus Acacius, General of Rome, stood at the edge of the conquered city’s grand palace, his armor glinting with the remnants of battle. Soldiers celebrated in the streets, their cheers echoing through the hollow corridors of what had once been a seat of power.

Marcus’ gaze fell on the bound figure brought before him. Princess Y/N of Lystra stood tall despite the chains adorning her wrists, her eyes blazing with defiance.

“The lion of Rome,” she said mockingly, her voice sharp as a blade. “Come to gloat, have you?”

Marcus’ lips curved into a slight smile, though his dark eyes remained cold. “Gloat? Hardly. This was a necessity, not a pleasure.” He motioned to the soldiers to release her chains. “I prefer my conversations unrestrained.”

“How generous of you,” she replied, rubbing her wrists as she was freed. “Do your victories often involve slaughtering innocents?”

“War is never clean,” he said, his voice even. “And no one is truly innocent in a rebellion against Rome.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a retort. Instead, she straightened her posture, looking every bit the queen she would have been.

Two days later, Marcus stood in the opulent hall of Lystra’s palace. The once-bright tapestries had been torn down, replaced with Roman banners. The elders of the city knelt before him, offering allegiance. But his attention wasn’t on them. It was on the proposal laid out by his advisors.

“A political marriage,” his second-in-command explained. “It will secure loyalty. The people will be less likely to rebel if their princess is bound to you.”

Marcus considered the idea, his expression unreadable. He didn’t need a wife, much less one who despised him. Yet, there was logic in the suggestion. “Summon her.”

When Y/N entered the chamber, her expression was wary. Marcus gestured for the guards to leave, leaving the two alone.

“You summoned me, General?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I did,” he said. “Sit.”

She didn’t move. “I’d rather stand.”

“Suit yourself.” Marcus rose from his chair and walked toward her, his imposing frame towering over her. “The terms are simple. A marriage between us. You’ll remain in this palace, and your people will be spared further suffering.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You expect me to marry the man who destroyed my home?”

“Expectations are irrelevant,” Marcus said evenly. “This is a matter of necessity.”

“Necessity for whom? Certainly not for me,” she snapped.

“For your people,” he replied. “You claim to care for them, yet you’d risk their future out of spite?”

Y/N’s fists clenched. “Don’t you dare speak of care to me. You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But I know loyalty. And I know duty. Think carefully, Princess. The choice is yours.”

Her silence stretched, heavy with tension. Finally, she spoke. “I’ll agree. But don’t think for a moment that I’ll ever forgive you.”

Marcus nodded, unperturbed. “Forgiveness isn’t required.”

The days leading to the wedding were filled with preparations. Y/N’s attendants fussed over her, but she felt like a prisoner in gilded chains. Every glance in the mirror reminded her of the man she would soon call husband—a man she loathed.

Marcus, on the other hand, approached the event with the same stoic detachment he applied to war. He made no attempt to ingratiate himself with Y/N, understanding that time and actions would speak louder than words.

The ceremony was grand but cold, much like their union. As Marcus placed the ring on Y/N’s finger, she fought the urge to recoil. His touch was firm yet impersonal.

Weeks passed, and life in the palace settled into a tense rhythm. Y/N avoided Marcus whenever possible, though their paths inevitably crossed. One evening, as she wandered the palace gardens, she heard his voice.

“You find peace here?” he asked, stepping into view.

She stiffened. “Peace is a rare commodity these days.”

“For both of us,” he said, surprising her. “You think this is easy for me?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel pity for you?” she retorted.

“No,” he said simply. “But perhaps you might understand. I do what I must for Rome. Just as you would do for Lystra.”

For the first time, she detected a hint of vulnerability in his tone. She frowned, unsure of how to respond. Instead, she walked away, leaving him alone in the fading light.

Their dynamic began to shift subtly. Marcus’ actions—small gestures of kindness, moments of unexpected humor—chipped away at her hatred. He had a way of speaking that made her question her preconceptions, though she fought against it.

One night, during a formal dinner, a senator insulted Lystra’s culture. Y/N bristled, ready to defend her people, but Marcus spoke first.

“You forget yourself,” he said coldly. “Lystra’s traditions deserve respect. They are now part of Rome.”

Y/N stared at him, startled. He met her gaze briefly before returning to his meal, as if nothing had happened.

It was during a rare moment of vulnerability that the walls between them truly began to crumble. Y/N found Marcus in the war room late at night, staring at maps with a haunted expression.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked, surprising even herself.

He looked up, startled. “No.”

She hesitated before approaching. “What keeps you awake?”

He sighed. “The faces. Of those I’ve lost. Those I’ve killed.”

For the first time, she saw the weight he carried. “Does it ever go away?”

“No,” he admitted. “But you learn to live with it.”

Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them. For the first time, she saw him as more than a conqueror. And he saw her as more than a defiant princess.

Months turned into a year, and their relationship evolved. Their shared moments grew more frequent, filled with tentative smiles and genuine laughter. Y/N found herself drawn to Marcus’ strength and quiet resilience, while he admired her fiery spirit and unyielding determination.

One evening, as they walked through the gardens, Marcus took her hand. She didn’t pull away.

“I never thought this would happen,” she admitted softly.

“Neither did I,” he said. “But I’m glad it did.”

Their lips met, tentative at first, then with a passion that spoke of everything they had endured. The past didn’t vanish, but in that moment, it no longer defined them. They were no longer conqueror and captive but two souls finding solace in each other amidst the ruins of war.

As their bond deepened, Y/N began to see Marcus in his element as a leader beyond the battlefield. He often walked through the streets of Lystra, speaking to its people. Though they were wary at first, they slowly came to respect his pragmatism and fairness. It was his way of showing that he was more than the general who had broken their gates.

Y/N joined him on these walks, observing how he handled disputes and sought to rebuild what had been destroyed. “You don’t have to do this,” she told him one day.

“I do,” he replied. “It’s my responsibility now. Just as you’ve taken on yours.”

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “Perhaps you’re not as heartless as I thought.”

“Perhaps you’re not as inflexible as I thought,” he countered, his tone teasing.

The seasons changed, and with them, so did the hearts of the people. Y/N’s initial resentment gave way to admiration as she saw how deeply Marcus cared for the future of both Rome and Lystra. He, in turn, found in her a partner whose strength and compassion matched his own.

One evening, as they stood on the palace balcony overlooking the city, Y/N leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you think we’ll ever be free of the shadows of the past?” she asked.

“No,” Marcus said, wrapping an arm around her. “But we can build something new. Together.”

And for the first time since the day the city fell, Y/N believed him.

Their relationship blossomed, a delicate flower in the shadow of war. Marcus, surprised by the depth of his feelings, found himself seeking out her company. He would find excuses to visit her chambers, bringing her rare fruits from distant lands or books of poetry he thought she might enjoy. He would linger in the gardens, hoping to chance upon her, their conversations growing longer, their silences more comfortable.

One evening, as they strolled through the gardens, the moon casting long shadows across the path, Marcus stopped and turned to face her. "You know," he began, his voice husky, "I never thought I would find… this." He gestured vaguely between them.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "This?"

"This feeling," he clarified, his gaze unwavering. "This… peace. This… joy."

A blush crept up Y/N's neck. "I… I feel it too," she admitted softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Their hands brushed against each other as they reached for a fallen blossom. A jolt, electric and unexpected, passed between them. Marcus's breath hitched. He wanted to pull her close, to taste the sweetness of her lips, to lose himself in the warmth of her gaze. But he hesitated, unsure if his feelings were reciprocated.

Y/N, sensing his apprehension, took a deep breath. "Marcus," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I… I don't know how to explain it. But… being with you, even amidst the ruins, it's… it's like finding a sliver of sunlight in a darkened room."

Marcus's heart soared. He took her hand, his touch gentle, reverent. "Then let us bask in this sunlight, my princess," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

Their first kiss was a hesitant exploration, a tentative touch of lips that quickly ignited into a fierce passion. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling, their souls yearning for a connection that transcended the boundaries of their past.

In the aftermath, they lay side-by-side, the moon casting long shadows across the garden. "I never thought I would feel this way," Y/N confessed, her voice a soft sigh.

Marcus smiled, his hand tracing the curve of her cheek. "Neither did I."

Their love story continued, a delicate dance amidst the ruins of war. They faced challenges together – political intrigue, the lingering resentment of some of Lystra's citizens, and the ever-present shadow of Marcus's past. But through it all, their love grew stronger, a beacon of hope in a world scarred by conflict.

They learned to cherish the quiet moments – sharing stories by the fire, exploring hidden corners of the palace, simply enjoying each other's company. They found solace in each other's arms, their bodies seeking warmth and comfort, their souls finding a haven in the depths of their shared love.

Years later, as they sat on the balcony, watching the sun set over Lystra, a city now thriving under their joint rule, Y/N looked at Marcus, his face etched with the lines of time and the weight of his responsibilities.

"You know," she said softly, "we built something beautiful from the ashes, didn't we?"

Marcus turned to her, his eyes filled with a love that transcended time and circumstance. "We did," he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's all because of you, my love."

He leaned down and kissed her, a long, slow kiss that spoke volumes of their journey, their resilience, and the enduring power of love to heal even the deepest wounds. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a warm, golden glow, they knew that their love story was far from over. It was a testament to the enduring power of hope, a beacon of light in a world that often seemed shrouded in darkness.

[emptyjunior]

Still in hunger games analysis mode, do you guys ever think about what Seneca did Wrong. About where he failed at the job he was given.

Because I think what his true fatal flaw was, was he believed it. He believed in the game and all of the propoganda surrounding it.

And this was something that was bound to happen in Snow's kingdom eventually! He made citizens that were clueless and lost in his little cloud nine. You can't make killers out of your arrogant, privileged sheep population!

Seneca Crane believed that the games were about the great show, about making stars and entertaining the masses.

The cold truth that you and I and Snow are aware of, is that the games are one part of the great oppression machine. They're a good political tool to be in control of, they can be used as a punishment to target whoever you need to, you can manipulate the big show on screen in a crude mockery of what's going on in real life! You can crush the spirit of certain districts, you can keep other ones loyal to you. And the victors are an extremely valuable Product that you are endlessly creating, idols and mouthpieces for your horrible propaganda machine.

So that's what the games do! A good tool for a dictator to have, and if you're aware of all the context, then being in charge of them gives you a lot of power.

But Seneca?? Seemed to genuinely believe he was there to put on a big fancy show😭 He was so excited about it, he chatted to sponsors, he did the interviews, he picked themes😭

Like of course he gave Katniss a 12 after her stunt, he wasn't worried about the fire outfits or her popularity at All. Because he thought it'd be good ratings, and it was! That's what he thought the goal was: Get the best, most entertaining story possible.

All those talks in the Rose garden?

This was not Seneca checkin in with the boss, that was the boss saying Hey what the Fuck are You Doing.

Because Seneca truly did not understand at all! How dangerous it would look for someone from district 12 to rise up that fast! (And Snow most definitely understood Very Quickly because he has been dunked on before by a black haired girl from district 12😭)

But even after that Very explicitly clear talk, Seneca kept allowing Katniss chances to tell the Mockingjay story. Because he is a fool, who thought he was there to make tv😭 And did not realise that the silly story they tell in the games, has very real effects on the districts.

Like the metaphor for it could be you hire someone to make you maybe pro-military, pro-war, propaganda films, and that goes great for years until they get a few generations in and the new guys are like "oh we're just making popular films here right?" And let your direct rebel enemy, star in a touching depiction of how great rebellion is😭 And then your movie guy goes "how was that boss? Lots of people watched!" ☠️

[spookberry]

I like to be positive and imagine that most people understand that she is a complicated character with good intentions even if her actions weren't always good,, however, there is a select group of people that keep trying to Argue with me that she's actual like satan reincarnated and pure evil because she "started a war". Like god forbid a woman do anything fr

No but actually it's absurd to me the way supposed fans of the show will critique Rose Quartz and her actions in the exact same way the diamonds view Pink Diamond. "She just had to be the rebel kid and start a war meh meh meh" like are you White Diamond??? Cuz thats literally white diamond's belittling comprehension of the situation and it's pretty clear that she and the other diamonds are WRONG for that.

The war wasn't a fucking game. I don't understand how anyone can watch steven universe and not comprehend that Rose started the rebellion and founded the crystal gems, to Protect! The! Earth!!! Regardless of whether her initial love of earth and desire to spare it came from a more self-centered view of existence she still knew the colony was wrong, so she set out to stop it!! That is just blatantly good. The way people spin this to be a negative point of her character leaves me just incredulous. Rose can be spoiled and childish, but that was not the reasoning behind rebelling. It is the diamonds who treat her like a spoiled child with a toy and it's the audience's job to understand that that was them belittling and ignoring her.

Faking Pink's death to become Rose Quartz wasn't just a silly little Hannah Montana bit she did where she got to enjoy the luxuries of a being a diamond while playing pretend citizen and having her little sapphic frolics in the woods with Pearl. It was a War Strategy! She was her own built in spy and double agent. She was was an activist within gem bureaucracy as well as someone actively protesting on a ground level. It didn't matter how the crystal gems viewed Pink because that became a role she performed so she could HELP them.

We know blatantly thanks to Pearl that once it became clear that bureaucracy wasn't working that she gave up on that avenue. It's boiled down to something easily watched with an 11 minute episode however, it's clear Pearl and Rose had talked about the plan before hand. So it wasn't something she did on a whim. It was a Political Move. That maybe killing off an Important figure such as Pink Diamond would allow the fight to fall more into the crystal gems favor. It wasn't just her being silly and forgoing the privilege's of being a Diamond, it was a Threat. A statement that said "if I can shatter Pink Diamond, I can shatter any diamond, so you better fucking listen to me."

And sure you could argue here that it was a dumb plan, personally I think its pretty clear that she was desperate and if she rebelled As Pink the other diamonds would've just stepped in and "grounded" her and the war would've been lost entirely anyways. Hell Pearl even says as much. If Pink Diamond proved incapable of following orders with the colony any power she held over it would've been taken form her, Earth woulda been another one of yellow's after that. So she makes this extreme choice to make a statement out of Pink Diamond instead.

The statement has unexpected consequences. However and this is important to keep in mind, this is a story. And there's a foreshadowing set up here. Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz has to lose. It's how the story works, and how she fails is supposed to make something clear to the audience. And that is that shattering the diamonds isn't the answer. It was Never the answer, not with Pink not with White or Blue or Yellow, and that's why the finale of SU is the way it is imo. So people that are mad at Steven "forgiving" the diamonds yall are also stupid.

Anyways back to Rose. She isn't perfect, obviously, she makes choices that ultimately cause future problems for those she cares about(though arguably she had no idea the war would ever Come Back, she spent thousands of years uninterrupted on earth before she had steven). But she is a war general, she is the leader of a doomed uprising. She did what she had to and she didn't always know whether what she was doing was right or not, because no one had ever done it before.

Can i go on a rant about Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond real quick?

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Something about romance and love for people and art and humanity being it's own form of rebellion, something about both music and art being taken less seriously, something about the narrative role of a love interest, about seeing a character through someone else's eyes. Something about the protagonist being told a philosophy by the one they love, (People are okay, it's what the world dose to them{...}It's up to us to stay on the right side of that line/ Just because the sun rose yesterday, dose it mean it has to tomorrow{...} Stop that sun from rising/I want to still be me, more than a piece in their games, I want to show them they don't own me) and the different ways they reflect on and enact on them. Something about a captive capital audience during an interview and a rebel message written in orange and a boy symbolising hope and spring, something about soft, like the sunset, something about luck and coming home. Something about a girl who looked after her family forever changing history before being erased from it forever, all for knowing how to put on a show, for preforming and charming her way out of certain death, for using music and creativity to craft the song of the future rebellion, for leaving like her name sake forever a mystery to a boy she couldn't trust. Something about a girl who showed empathy for a grieving mother and sung forbidden songs and displayed her rebellion thought art being killed by poison to punish the boy she loved. Something about a boy being tortured to punish the girl he loved, a boy who painted a dead girl to hold her killers responsible and sweet talked the capital and calmed a woman he didn't know into a peaceful death and had to relearn who he was, a boy who bakes and creates and builds, who's favourite colour is the sunset on the reaping.

[candyskiez]

so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!

The Owl House

The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.

It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.

Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma

She Ra and the Princesses Of Power

Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.

It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.

Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale

Steven Universe

Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.

It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.

Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia

Nimona

Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.

It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".

Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights

feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!

[serpentface]

Taighr A Teng, current high priest of Finnerich and beloved populist monarch, posing in his eclectic mix of royal regalia, a simple commoner's cloak, and dancer's garb.

---

His career as king has, so far, been notably impressive.

He had his starts as a lesser nobleman from the plains on the northwestern edge of the region. This northern region was never directly occupied by the Imperial Wardi invaders and only loosely controlled by the tributary puppet government, and the rebellion against this loyalist government and the resulting Finnerich civil war originated here. He rose to prominence in this war, eventually functioning as the general of these rebelling forces.

These forces utilized guerilla tactics and light archer cavalry (the latter being central to the warrior culture of northern Finns) to great effectiveness, and Taighr received a bulk of the credit for this. He claimed to have been visited by the solar chief god Neghri and cloaked in his armor. He never declared himself a possible king, but his confidants (conveniently) publicly urged him to undergo a rite of kingship to prove his god-given invulnerability, and he was successfully seen to perform the naked dance through fire unscathed. This granted him acknowledgment as truly chosen by Neghri, and planted the notion of Taighr being potentially a legitimate king (a status that is usually hereditary, and only granted to high lords when not) in the minds of many of his people.

Afterwords, he prominently fought on khaitback half-naked, clad only in the garb of a dancer (Neghri is a god of the dance among many other things). His claims of divine armor seemed to hold true- he never suffered any more than flesh wounds in over three years of sustained warfare.

He led battle in which the Wardi general Odomache was captured and killed, and is heavily suspected to be/popularly championed as the one who executed her with her own handcannon. He will neither confirm or deny this, but has the gun in his possession and sometimes appears with it in public. Either way, his role in this pivotal battle, subsequent expelling of Wardi troops, recapture of the capital and eradication of the Wardi-loyalist government cemented his status in the minds of a significant majority of his people. He performed the fire dance yet again in the capital and was formally declared king in the aftermath of the war.

He entered into kingship under the near-worst of circumstances. His kingdom has been decimated and politically fragmented in the aftermath of two decades of Imperial Wardi occupation as a grain tributary/colony, and the onset of a multi-year drought began that very year.

Part of his success against this adversity rested in seizing unprecedented and wholly centralized power. The former system of kingship rested upon a council of lords that each governed their own territories, with a king's power Publicly resting in his authority as high priest but practically resting in his lords' alliance and loyalty. He declared this system to be responsible for Old Finnerich's downfall (already a very widely held belief in the general public) and executed almost all the remaining lords (who were also political rivals, having a claim to the crown more legitimate than his own by the traditional standard) and their kin under accusations of being Wardi loyalists.

These executions extended further to many lesser nobles and other identified traitors, in the end wiping out a sizeable portion of previous authority figures. He replaced executed lords and nobility with trusted loyal compatriots and popular public figures, and made efforts to legitimize his reign by taking the daughter of a former lord (who had died a martyr resisting the original Wardi invasion and was widely beloved) as his queen.

This capitalized on general public sentiment of distrust of surviving former leadership (who, if not loyalists, at least Submitted to Wardi occupation) and was a move favored by the majority of commoners (who received none of the fringe benefits that benefited loyalist nobility under Wardi rule, and this invasion occurred in the context of Preexisting tension and peasant revolts). This was not, of course, a universally accepted move, but Taighr's merciless treatment towards accused traitors along with general public favor for his action has gone a long ways towards dissuading dissent in these first years of his reign.

He has so far used his heavily centralized power to great effectiveness in rebuilding efforts and famine response. He reduced taxes on commoners, supplementing this lost income with the very substantial liquidated assets of the former lordship. Much of these assets were grain, which has been stored en-masse and rationed and periodically redistributed to alleviate the famine. The hardier, more drought resistant grain (particularly a strain of barley) has been heavily invested in planting projects. He divided the lands of his executed nobility and civilians killed in war and granted it to members of the peasantry to farm with increased status as landowners, which has caused a sizable migration to the fertile southeast of the region.

Some of his most recent maneuvers have involved resumption of raiding Wardin and Bur's trade ships and coastlines. The piracy has been beneficial to securing needed resources and wealth, while the raids (which have largely hit villages and small towns that don't have a Lot to offer mid-drought) have more of a function of terrorizing weakened enemies and building public morale in trying times. He's also in the process of courting a neighboring kingdom of Hrolje (with historical trade ties to Finnerich) into full allyship against their shared enemies (Imperial Wardin, the Burri republic, and several Royal Dain kingdoms).

A drought (which has lasted six years so far) occurring the very year he took the crown is a spiritual issue as well as a practical one. As the people's high priest, he should have the power to commune with the gods (particularly Neghri, chief of the gods with whom he has a singular connection as king) and prevent such a thing from happening. The public reaction to this drought has been varied, but most see its occurrence immediately following the expulsion of Imperial Wardin and defeat of its high priestess as significant. Many consider this to be the foreign god Odomache's vengeance, and question why their own gods (who are much more powerful and hold total sovereignty over this land) have not intervened to help them.

Taighr's public stance is that this is not quite the case. Their own gods have sent this drought to both punish their enemies and to test the Finn people. They have not forgiven Finnerich's surrender to their enemies, and require proof of the people's loyalty and strength before they will call the drought away. This message is harsh but hopeful in tone, and has been embraced (or at least accepted) by a sizeable majority. A sense of purpose to their suffering (HEAVILY bolstered by effective practical measures of famine alleviation) has gone a long way to keep Finnerich's general populace unified and confident in their new king in the face of adversity.

He has had tremendous success so far, but his rule has clear potential for future instability. While he is very popular among the peasantry, not everyone loved the whole 'mass execution of political rivals and their families' thing. Some members of these families are known or suspected to have escaped (and potentially have more legitimate claims by tradition than Taighr does). His reduced taxation on the commoner class cannot last forever, and his functional creation of a new landed peasantry class is untested and likely will not remain stable in the long term. A small but not insignificant minority interprets the drought not as a test but punishment from the gods for the acceptance of a false king.

---

Taighr has shunned most regalia for his public image. His outfit here has only the bare minimum regalia of the torc and headdress (along with his tattoos), and the rest is dancer's garb and a simple cloak. His image is partly as a maneuver to appeal to his people, who simultaneously desire a traditional king (as their protector and benefactor who can commune with the gods) but are utterly disillusioned with their former dynasty for having so deeply failed them (and being somewhat unfavored even before their surrender to Imperial Wardin).

His choice to partly neglect a traditional 'royal' image emphasizes his outsider status from this now heavily scorned ex-dynasty, while still appearing in such a way that legitimatizes him as a king to public perception.

The arm tattoos and banded motifs on the headgear contain symbols widely used in Finn art, but are forbidden to be worn as tattoos for anyone other than kings (unless the right has been granted by a king in recognition and blessing). A kings rule is marked with arm and leg bands added for each year of sovereignty, with symbols chosen to represent the character of each year and a king's accomplishments and actions therein. These tattoos tend to be flattering in their meaning and serve to cement a chosen narrative into the king's very skin- his successes are lauded, his difficulties are acknowledged but framed as a struggle in which he remained strong/will ultimately be triumphant.

The first year shows an abstract symbol of unification and brotherhood, representing his role early in the war when he had already emerged as a military leader was first acknowledged as a potential king. The second denotes clouded skies and an obscured sun, representing the struggle and uncertainty in the height of war. The third shows victory by the arrowhead, celebrating the end to the war, Finnerich's restored sovereignty, and the expulsion of invasive elements. The fourth shows the motif of maize, denoting the sense of hope and regrowth in the first year free of tributary occupation (somewhat in contrast to the reality of the drought). The fifth shows clouded skies yet again, as this was when public elation over their victory was thoroughly quashed by the drought not only Not Stopping but having its worst year of all, one of the more difficult years of his sovereignty. The sixth shows foundations, a sense of rebuilding in regards to great public works and triumphant management of the famine, a year in which more rain came and his land/grain distribution system entered full swing. The seventh shows an abstract symbol of clasped hands in unity and arrowheads, celebrating allegiance with Hrolje and great success in raids against enemies. He is in the eighth year of being recognized as a king, and the latest one has been outlined but not completed.

The tattoos on the back of his hands mark his status as legitimate king chosen by Neghri, capable of communing with the gods and performing acts of magic. This symbol is completely forbidden to be worn by anyone besides a king (including on clothing/jewelry/etc) and is the ultimate symbol of lordship, sovereignty, and connection to the chief of the gods.

His head (not directly visible here) is artificially lengthened, having been bound in infancy. Artificial cranial deformation is a widespread practice among many of the North Viper peoples, where it tends to be associated with beauty, nobility, and/or a semi-divine status. This practice is reserved exclusively for the hereditary nobility (kings, lords, and lesser nobles) of Finn culture. The trend for most Finn headgear to be very tall and pointed is at least related, giving a person a noble and dignified bearing (regardless of their skull's actual length).

[anti-praxis-antihero]

I can't even call this propaganda "all of them have various advantages and points of intrigue" lmao but Love the tags amazing you saw through all my choices. @thecruellestmonth

I'm reanimated my Jedi Duke au. Duke heads!

ALL the other bats are Mandos. EVERY SINGLE ONE. YES EVEN THAT ONE-the one your thinking of that appeared in the 90s-00s and was never mentioned again them too

[of-crowns-and-echoes]

Magic users have always existed alongside normal humans, hidden but present. Eons ago, powerful sorcerors created a ward of magic, separating the magic from the mundane. And so the existence of Sancteiros was wiped from every map and every mind, forgotten as if it never existed in the first place.

But the wall has now fallen, and non-magicals are gearing up for an attack. You play as a Divine One, the current ruler of Sancteiros when the wall falls.

After three Divine Ones dying only a year into their rule, can you be the one to restore stability? Or will your crown fall alongside your people?

DEMO out now!

Names have power: Choose your name, gender, and appearance.

The past is never dead: Customize your character's background and past

Make magic yourself: Choose from three magical classes- mages, sorcerors, and witches.

Don't forgive, don't forget: Rule over a country that has been isolated for centuries, and decide which factions are allies and which are enemies.

No man is an island: Four characters to befriend or romance (or make enemies of)

ETHEL VIVER [m] Vibrant and reckless, Ethel's been your friend for four years now. A witch and a liar, Ethel has a reputation for being loud and knowing entirely too much.

MAREN AIREL [m] The newest recruit of the Guards, Maren rose the ranks of popularity quick. He's the reason that the Guards are known more for adventures than protection, now. He's the son of the last Chief Advisor, and has half the population of Sancteiros swooning at him.

ARTISE CORREL [f] Artise leads the rebels, but the only thing you (or anyone else) knows of her is her insignia - a white feather - left behind at every site of the rebellion. The instability of the regime has led to her growing power, loathe as the Guards are to admit it.

CEDIS DAY [f] Cedis is the second-in-command of the human ambassadors, distrusting and far too cautious. Though most of your council prefers her to the human leaders, she resolutely refuses to talk to anyone but you.

+other minor and major characters

[darknight3904]

Between the Comfort and the Chaos

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴋᴀᴛɴɪꜱꜱ (ʏᴀʏ) ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɴᴏᴡ'ꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴏ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ "ᴏʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴡᴇɴᴛ!" ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴛʜᴀᴛꜱ ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ / ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ @squidscottjeans ,ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢꜱ ʙʏ ʟɪᴢᴢɪᴇ ᴍᴄᴀʟᴘɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ʙʏ ɢʀᴀᴄɪᴇ ᴀʙʀᴀᴍꜱ.

Italics designate that it is a dream.

The sun is warm on his skin as his eyes meet yours. Musical laughter fills his ears and soft hair tickles his nose.

"What are you laughing at now?" He asked, his voice deep with sleep.

"Your hair is ridiculous, Coryo." You tease pointing at his head

"And who did that hmm? I seem to remember you pushing your fingers through it a thousand times last night." He replies shifting around in the soft white sheets so he's sitting upright.

"You lie! I'd never." You laugh, sitting up beside him, clothed in a soft-looking nightgown he picked out for you.

"Sure you would, you're a menace." He says, wrapping his arms around you and caging you to his chest

"How rude to say to the only person who puts up with that terrible attitude of yours!" You say trying to free yourself from his iron grip.

His muscles flex slightly and his fingers begin to tickle you.

"Coryo!" You laugh, wiggling around in his lap "Coriolanus Snow! I'm going to pee!"

He relents and lets you go at the threat of urine. Wetting the bed is unattractive.

Coriolanus wakes with his heart feeling full. A smile fights for a spot on his face amongst the wrinkles that have formed over the years.

"Now there's something you don't normally see on a dead man's face, a smile."

His smile falls and his gaze snaps to the voice. He groans and straightens up in the uncomfortable chair he dozed off in

"I'm Commander Paylor. From District 8. I wanted to see you before the Mockingjay executes you tomorrow."

Coriolanus isn't entirely sure what to say to the woman in front of him.

"You wanted to meet the monster up close?" He asks, pulling a pure white rose from its spot next to a fountain.

"Yes." She confirms.

Her voice is unshaken as he steps towards her and holds his hand with the rose out.

"Give the Girl on Fire this for me. As a gift." He requests

The woman, rebel, Paylor, slowly takes it from him, undoubtedly suspicious. He smiles when she does, a sign of good faith, but it must scare her because he can tell she's not charmed.

Unsurprisingly, his good looks had vanished years ago.

"What makes you think she'll want this?" She asks shoving the rose back at him.

"You're right, maybe she she wouldn't want it. Although perhaps she'll find me herself, then I can give it to her directly."

Paylor doesn't say another word to him and instead takes her leave. He watches her mumble something to the guards before walking. Most likely demanding that they watch him closely. Like he had somewhere he could run off to, the moment the Capitol's children were killed by bombs, he had lost any bits of support he had left.

He isn't surprised when she appears in his greenhouse. She looks laughably out of place amongst the dazzling white and green, clad in black as she admires one of his roses.

"That's a nice one."

His voice must frighten her because she spins around quickly. How easy it is to startle a bird outside of its cage. It reminds him that Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay, the symbol of the rebellion that will kill him tomorrow is nothing more than a scared little girl.

"Nothing says perfection like white." He says, wiping at his mouth, " I was hoping you'd find your way here. There's so many things we should discuss."

Katniss walks towards him as he sits down on a bench, old knees prevent him from standing the way he wanted to. She's silent but he catches her eyes and how they watch the blood on his handkerchief.

Katniss is quiet, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I was 18 when I killed my first person. It was a boy, in the arena. I was there to rescue my friend who was stupid enough to enter the arena to administer burial rights to a District 2 boy he believed was important."

"I don't care," Katniss says getting ready to walk away, clearly uninterested in his life.

"You don't want to know the thoughts of an old man? After all, I'll be dead this time tomorrow. Then my story won't matter. I'll be nothing but pages on a history book one day. You'll be the only one to know how my mind worked back then."

His words get her to stay. Perhaps she is curious about him. Or maybe she doesn't have anything else to do, now that the Districts have taken the Capitol. How terrible it must be to lose your purpose so early on in life.

"I saved him, Sejanus Plinth, that fool. I saved him only to sign his death warrant later. Plotting to escape Panem and killing the mayor of District 12's daughter. You see, Miss Everdeen, taking life without purpose is wasteful. The mayor's daughter never did anything to Sejanus."

"You say don't take life without waste but what about your Fiancee? The one who killed herself. There have been whispers about it for as long as I can remember. I've never bought that she died on her own accord."

"Patience, Miss Everdeen." He smiles, surprised that the rumor about you still has life, he could have sworn he had covered that up perfectly.

"Have you ever heard the name Lucy Gray Baird?" He asked, genuinely curious if that foolish Covey of hers had passed her name down the way her songs had swirled around the rebellion.

"No," Katniss says

"She was a victor of the Hunger Games, just like you. The first victor of District 12 to be precise." Coriolanus watches Katniss' face as she listens, "There's nothing left of her though. She is but a whisper in the wind, I saw to that myself. I must not have done it thoroughly though, after all, you know her songs. The Hanging Tree, and that sweet song you sang that little girl who died in your arms in your first games."

Coriolanus smiles as Katniss' face knits into a mask of displeasure and anger.

"Stop it." She demands, no begs.

"Calm yourself, Miss Everdeen, I'll be finished shortly."

He watches her fists clench, suffocating the stem of the rose she picked between her fingers.

"You asked about my fiance. You're right about your theory, she didn't kill herself the way the gossips spread their lies across this country say. I rid myself of her one day, it was an accident you see. She attacked me first...I regret it though. I regret it most when I'm alone."

Coriolanus sighs, suddenly overcome with sadness as he thinks of you, Lucy Gray, and even Sejanus.

Katniss is quiet for a moment. Her fingers turn the rose over in her fingers, examining it for nonexistent imperfections.

"You deserve it. You deserve every bit of pain her death causes you. You deserve to know the pain you've caused countless families by sending their children into the games. What you've caused me and my family by killing Prim."

He can hear the emotion dripping in her voice when her sister's name leaves her lips. In a way that sister is responsible for where he is now, a prisoner in his own greenhouse.

"Yes, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your sister. I was about to release an official surrender when they released the parachutes." He says, truthfully.

"You released those parachutes," Katniss says, her tone cold.

"You think I gave the order? We both know I'm not above killing children, but I'm not wasteful. I take life for specific reasons. I always have. There was no reason for me to destroy a pen of Capitol children."

He coughs, wiping at his mouth, wishing his sores would stop aching.

"It was a masterful move on Coin's part. It turned the last of my guards against me." He smiles "There was no resistance left in the mansion. Did you know it aired live?"

He watches as Katniss takes in his words, her face remains stoic but he can tell she understands him. Understands that Prim is dead because of the woman who is to take his place as leader of Panem.

"I'm sure she wasn't gunning for your sister...but these things happen in war."

"I don't believe you," Katniss says, determined to convince herself more than him.

"Oh my dear Miss Everdeen, I thought we had agreed never to lie to each other."

Sleep is something that has usually evaded Coriolanus Snow. Whether it be his old bones aching, the sores in his mouth, or just a busy mind, he hasn't had a peaceful night in many years.

Tonight is different though. Perhaps it was his conversation with Katniss, or maybe the fact that he would die tomorrow. Tonight Coriolanus Snow falls into a deep slumber, avoiding what his future holds.

Coriolanus!

Coriolanus!

Coryo!

He can't believe eyes. Here you are, healthy and whole in front of him. Not a winkle or smile line, pollutes your face.

You are as beautiful as the day you left him.

"Y-You're here...with me." He stammers, cursing himself for his blunder.

"Where else would I be, silly?" You smile "This is my room after all."

He glances around and sure enough, you're right. Your sunroom is here, he's in it. Coriolanus sits across from you on the plush baby blue furniture you hand-picked. It's color is as vibrant as ever, not faded like the last time he saw it. Your overflowing desk is to his on his right, burdened with books, drawings, and wildflowers of every color.

"You look lost, Coryo." You observe, taking a sip from the tea cup in front of you.

He takes in your appearance. A pretty sundress sits on your figure. Its yellow flowers make you look as delicate as the teacup in front of him. Your hair is done immaculately and a soft touch of makeup enhances your already stunning features.

"I'm sorry." He suddenly blurts out

"For what?" You ask

" I'm sorry for looking like this." He apologizes, suddenly self-conscious that he's an old man.

"Looking like what?" Your musical voice fills his ears.

Suddenly a mirror is there, in his lap. He looks down and is met with a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Sure, his reflection stares back at him as it always is. But, this time he is met with how he looked the day he killed you. His youth is back, curly hair a mess on his head, out of the confines of the gel he used to slick it back. It is styled just the way you like it.

"Are you sorry for anything else?" You ask sweetly

Coriolanus thinks for a split second that you're testing him. But what reason would you have?

"For everything that happened between us. I regret it all." He admits

Silence feels like a weight on his chest as he waits for you to speak.

"Do you regret what you did to me then? How we ended?" You ask

He can't look at you as he disgests your words.

"Yes." He says, his voice barely a whisper.

"Look at me, Coriolanus."

His gaze remains down, has he always been wearing blue socks?

"Look at me, Coriolanus!"

"Look at me!"

"Look at me!"

"Look at me!"

His eyes open to meet the bright light of a flashlight being shown into his eyes.

"He's still alive." A gruff voice says, switching the light off.

"Unfortunately." Another snickers " Here I thought we might get to tell Coin he died of old age."

"Stay alive, snake. We want a good show tomorrow when Katniss shoots you." The first one says tossing him backward onto the small cot that has been placed in his greenhouse for him.

"You're a monster, Coriolanus."

Your voice. It's you!

He turns around and there you are, a gray scarf has been added to your outfit. It's out of place and clashes with your pretty yellow dress. He wants to tell you to get rid of it.

"I'm not." He denies

"You are. Look what you did to Sejanus, to Lucy Gray, to me, to every child who ever stepped foot in an arena. There were never any victors, not really, only you." You hiss

"It is the order of things." He tries to defend his actions, hearing you spout this incorrect information is angering him. Every life he has ever ended has served a greater purpose.

"Snow lands on top, isn't that how it goes?"

Your words send a shiver down his spine.

"I wish I could have changed what happened to you." He says

"No, you don't. You wanted to do it. You wanted to hurt me." You spit

"No, I didn't you're wrong. I never meant for any of that to happen!" He panics, wishing your harsh tone would stop. He haunches over elbows resting on his knees, hands over his ears like a child.

"Yes, you did." You say

He looks up at you now. The ugly scarf is gone but Coriolanus wishes for its return. Deep purple bruises mar your once-perfect skin. From his position, he can see the chinks of the chain that had pressed into your skin.

"You can't even accept what you did to me. You're disgusting, Coryo."

And just like that you're gone. A figment of his imagination comes to life and vanishes just like that.

His chest heaves as he wipes his bloody lips on his deep red robe. His heart rate slows and he wishes someone would bring him a warm cup of tea to soothe his burning throat. Perhaps those guards might indulge him.

A low whistle reaches his ears as he fiddles with the string that sticks out of his pillowcase.

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary.

It's why I

Need you-

You're as pure as the driven snow.

Lucy Gray Baird's sweet voice fills his ears for the first time in decades.

"Hello, Coriolanus." She greets him, stepping out from behind a display of roses.

"What do you want?" He snaps

"Well now, there's no need to be rude." She scolds

"Say your piece I'm tired." He says, uninterested in playing her games

"Ah, did she tire you out? She's feisty. I understand why you went back to the Capitol for her." Lucy Gray says

"No, you don't. You barely even met her." He says

"Now thats where you're wrong. She and I know each other well. After all, we're connected through you." Lucy Gray taunts

"You're not real!" He exclaims. "You're gone! Nothing but a whisper of songbird chatter left behind in the woods of District 12!"

His outburst doesn't faze Lucy Gray Baird who smiles at him.

" I can see you're not interested in talking to me the way you did her."

"You're right, I'm not," Coriolanus confirms, wishing Lucy Gray would disappear again.

"Very well, then. I'll leave you to it, then."

The rest of the night is sleepless for Coriolanus. He lays on his back and tries to shake the whispers that flood his mind. Your voice dances with Lucy Gray's tonight, taunting him, driving him mad. Lucy Gray's singing swirls through him like a thick fog over city lights and clouds his mind. At some point, you join in and Coriolanus can't even fathom how you've learned the words of a ghost's songs.

The sun has arisen by the time your voices finally go quiet. He suspects the guards that stand outside his greenhouse doors will come to lead him to his execution any moment now.

"Did you ever stop and think that what you were doing was wrong?"

Sejanus Plinth. He should have known his mind would save the most annoying for last.

"I've never viewed my actions as wrong. Maybe I didn't mean them all but they all served a purpose." Coriolanus affirms, not bothering to look at Sejanus who is apparently behind him.

Sejanus lets out an amused laugh and Coriolanus feels his blood boil. What does a dead boy have to laugh at? He is the one who got to live a long life, not Sejanus Plinth.

"You meant every wrong you've ever committed, Coryo. You're a monster that's going to burn in the deepest pits of hell."

He finally turns, ready to rip Sejanus apart for his words and the use of his personal nickname, a name reserved for you only. He is ready to send Sejanus back to whatever corner of his mind he resided in but is met with nothing but roses.

He runs a hand over his face. Coriolanus Snow has never felt more weary than he does now. He wishes to bury his head beneath his blankets and let the world melt away.

He never gets a chance though because as he relaxes back into his mattress, the greenhouse doors open, signaling his time here has come to a close.

"Get up." a voice orders "It's time."

Coriolanus can see Katniss Everdeen growing closer with every beat of the drums that play. The bow in her hand is as pitch black as the costume she wears. A soft breeze threads its way through the tense scene as he awaits his doom. He's not so worried about it now, his mind has dragged him through the dirt so much within the past twelve hours that he wants an out. He never wants the ability to listen to Sejanus' garbage or Lucy Gray's sweet voice, Coriolanus doesn't even want to have another conversation with you in your sunroom.

No that's not it. Perhaps he was wrong. Maybe he does want some of those things back. Maybe not Sejanus or Lucy Gray but he does yearn for you. He wants you to wrap your arms around him and tell him it's alright. He wants to sit down with you and exist with you in between the comfort and the chaos of this world. He wants you to stay by his side and say that you didn't mean to say that you disgust him.

Maybe none of it was real. No none of it was. You had left him that night in the basement. Your eyes had glazed over and you had stopped fighting him and the chain that brought about your doom.

He can feel hysteria creeping into his mind as Katniss Everdeen stops walking. Behind her, the victors that escaped him stand tall. He catches the gaze of Peeta Mellark, the boy he had kept in your room after he used tracker jacker venom on him.

Three birds fly over him, they flap their wings in perfect harmony. Their black feathers are a stark contrast to the light blue sky that he stares up at now. Coin's words fall on deaf ears as he ignores her whole speech.

"Mockingjay...may your aim be as true as your heart is pure."

Coriolanus watches Katniss Everdeen release her arrow. He expects something, perhaps a dazzling white light or maybe even pitch darkness but it never comes. Instead horrified gasps fill his ears and the thud of a body.

Coriolanus doesn't have to even try to turn around to see what has happened. He knows what the Mockingjay has done to what was Panem's future.

Time slows down as the mob behind her rushes forward. The birds have flown away, off to start a different life, away from darkness and all things bad.

His laughter rings in his ears as his eyes comb the crowd. He can't see much but the red rouge of an academy uniform catches his eyes, accompanied by a flash of rainbow. Sejanus, Lucy Gray. What were they doing here? They couldn't possibly be in the crowd that was running towards him.

They're growing closer, the mob that will end his life. He looks at them, ready to let go. They collide with him, their fists are brutal but justified and he can feel his end rapidly approaching.

"Coryo."

And there it is, at last. Your sweet voice is calling him home.

Thank you for reading this little bonus story. If you enjoyed it please comment, like, or reblog! I love getting feedback. Follow me for more content or check out my master list.

Taglist:

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@imnotafishimamermaid

@marecaltrashhh

@livingdead-reilly

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[withallthingslove]

I really trust your judgement - can you give us your theories for episode 4 to 6 especially for Nick and June ?

Sure! I haven't listened to some of the new podcasts and interviews but have read Reddit comments summarizing, plus based on the new trailer footage

Episode 4

June obviously doesn't go back to Alaska and stays at the Mayday base with Luke and Moira. Luke is determined to do something which frustrates the fuck out of her

I think Luke will frustrate her a lot but they will have a conversation about their relationship where they agree to fight for Hannah together

I think maybe there will be intel that the commanders they want to kill are going to jezebels so the plan is made for June and Moira and Luke to go undercover

Lawrence is promoted to high commander for NB

The cracks start to show with NB and Lawrence's position

Wharton knows/suspects that Nick shot the guardians

Idk why I just imagine that Nick possibly finishes the job and kills the guardian in the hospital

Episode 5:

June, Moira, and Luke go back into Gilead but separate once they are there.

June and Moira are at the jezebels and maybe they meet Janine there

While killing commanders is on the list of possibilities I could see where the initial plan is to get information or supplies. Regardless they kill someone and put him in the furnace

Something goes awry with pickup or maybe killing someone that way wasn't the plan. They see Lawrence (I guess it could work they see Nick) and June has Lawrence take her (and maybe Moira) out

Lawrence takes them to Nick's house (maybe Rose and Wharton are away for something??) to hide out

Serena's consequential choice is she accepts Wharton's marriage proposal or something that ties her to Wharton and further entrenches her in Gilead

Nick's consequential choice... is it to hide June at his house? Is it something to do with the guardian? Is it something to do with helping Tuello? A few weeks ago I thought his choice was THE betrayal but I think now it might be a decision that puts him in a position to betray June (like hiding her puts him in trouble with Wharton/Rose, or ending his agreement with Tuello makes June angry with him at his house and they leave on bad terms).

My guesses are it's accepting a promotion to lead fertility/security stuff in NB, hiding June at his house, doing something to help June that gets him in trouble, or ending his deal with Tuello

Episode 6:

June hides out at Nick's house or an empty house in NB. I'm a bit confused by this timeline because when she gets to his house she's obviously wearing the martha disguise (which is why I thought originally he was at the jezebels and saw her) but in the kissing scene she's back in her black button down (unless it's a different button down he loaned her). And when June sees Nick in her martha disguise he's in his typical commander suit, but in the kissing scene he's back in his driver shirt

Also where is Moira? Does she refuse to go with Lawrence?

I think Nick and June will fuck lol but I also think they will have a discussion where they are a bit at odds. I can see her wanting him to fight or wanting to become more entrenched in the rebellion and he pushes back. Not in a "for Gilead" way but in a "I can only trust myself" way

If this scene of them undercover is in episode 6:

Then that mean his betrayal is right at the end of episode 6 or in episode 7 right after this takes place? And if this scene isn't in episode 6 that means this scene comes after episode 8

Right now my guess is June hides with Nick at least for a night, he does go on a mission of sorts with her and helps but they are kind of at odds during it with their different perspectives, and he takes her to the boston globe either as a new hiding place or for her to meet up with other rebels

Nick's betrayal

Based on comments by the cast, right now I'm leaning towards he either shuts down new arrivals/people leaving NB, or he does something that brings Handmaids and aunts to NB and makes it a more dangerous place to be (which then pushes Lawrence to ally with Tuello)

My other guess is he does something that disrupts the plan to murder commanders at jezebels. Like maybe June and Moira don't finish the job but get info for it, June hides with Nick and he helps her with something and then takes her to the boston globe, and when he leaves he is supposed to do something for June but he doesn't

I think Janine being picked up by guardians in one of the trailers is tied to Nick. Maybe instead of helping he has the plan shut down which leads to Janine getting in trouble, or by bringing handmaids and aunts to NB he has some handmaids from jezebels brought which could be seen as "these women are getting another chance to redeem themselves and get a fresh start in NB" (can see Wharton advertising it like that

Other notes:

Does Wharton saying the "this lie will put you on the wall" look like it happens in Nick's house?

[spookierdeer]

my internet was down recently so i redesigned some miraculous ladybug characters from memory. details of this spur of the moment au below ⬇️⬇️⬇️

this is kind of off the cuff and wordy as hell, but it was what i was thinking about while drawing. i ran out of steam to draw anyone else but if i were to revisit i would probably do this in a different art style lol i tried to make them match but it's too samey to me and got boring working on this fast </3

marinette is 16-17ish instead of 13-15, most of the cast are this age except a few like luka who are 17-18

ignore that marinette isn't fully colored in the first image, i saved it before deciding to fully color everyone LOL

instead of general education, they go to an arts school the first akuma attack was focused on a private school nearby which adrien, kagami, and chloe attend with adrien and chloe being transferred afterwards to the art school (adrien and chloe both put in the fashion design course by their dads)

marinette is in the fashion track, alya in photography/video editing, nino, luka, and rose are in music, juleka and marc in writing, and nathaniel is in illustration/animation. other characters either fall into other tracks as well, attend the private school, or another nearby school that isn't arts focused. if a character fits something else better than what i said then pretend i said that instead 👍

marinette's interest in fashion design takes more of a front seat, i feel like it isn't brought up much in the show for how important it seems to her. instead of a 14 year old designing an album cover and whatever other insane opportunities she's gotten, i think those opportunities might come from businesses and celebrities working with the art school and marinette having a track record of lucking out in her work catching the eye of the people interested

kagami in canon is extremely autistic teen girl coded to me and therefore my favorite so i double down on that here

-her hair is short because in one of the only times she's actively rebelled against her mother's wishes, years prior to this au, she cut her hair short on her own because the feeling of it touching her neck and shoulders was constantly upsetting her. when her mom finally noticed she took control over this act of rebellion and took kagami to a hair stylist to get a haircut she found more appropriate; kagami has been getting it cut this same way since then.

-after moving to paris she had to give up a lot of the norms she found comfort in. i think she would have taken incredible care of the backpack she was given when she first started school and it's become somewhat of a comfort item. the private school would be pretty strict about dress code, but as long as the backpack didn't look sloppy and was in one of the allowed colors, she could use it- so even if she didn't use it much in middle school i could see her returning to it to have as a piece of home in a new place that's otherwise incredibly overwhelming.

-even if she isn't interested in it, she listens to her mom and does as she says which has her even more quiet and reserved than she would be normally. shes good friends with adrien, he's actually one of her closest friends, but she doesn't open up much more around him and he can tell. she meets marinette through him and while she doesn't magically blossom into a different person, she definitely speaks her mind more when around her and eventually adrien- marinette's personality connecting with her own just right and that makes her feel safe in a deep way.

-marinette inspires her to push boundaries, one of the first ways she rebels (considered so in her own mind) is wearing a friendship bracelet marinette makes for her despite her school not allowing jewelry like that. another is a "good luck" charm key chain she keeps latched to a zipper inside her backpack.

-i don't remember, but in the show i think kagami might model with agreste brand in some way? she might do that here too since her mom and adrien's dad are close, but she prefers modelling for marinette's projects even if she's shy about it at first. they're usually alone during this and kagami sometimes helps by wearing marinette's WIPs as she works and during those times kagami finds she laughs and smiles the most.

-i'm rambling now, but kagami reflects marinette in a lot of similar-but-opposite ways i didn't get into here and i need to stop talking about kagami and marinette or i'll be here all day.

idk what all to write for adrien bc i dont keep up with the show anymore so idk what his deal is rn, BUT here i would explore his experience with unspecified depression- he would have so much lust for life and joy but between his mom recently passing and his dad being a quiet megalomaniac with his only real parental support being his dad's assistant and his own bodyguard- he just doesn't feel much excitement with life despite how he might express himself in front of his friends. i think getting transferred would be, unintentionally on his dad's part, the biggest boon possible for adrien bc he would slowly regain that excitement in regards to just living his life- even if gabriel squashes it often with rules and tiring modelling work. becoming friends w nino, marinette, and everyone else would bring him out of his shell just like kagami even if it's in a different way.

luka is one of my faves too so he was one of the first i designed; he's not incredibly more important in this au, but i'd want to focus more on the eldest sibling in a single parent household stress of his character. a wonderful son and brother with a lot of skill and patience who's willing to lend an ear to any friend. lot of stress would pile up and i like thinking about him finally finding out who his dad is- that he's met the guy and it's one of his musical idols. and the man never said anything. and how that would upset him. and being the backbone of not only his family, but his friend group as he's stressed about going out into the world on his own soon in an unstable field and now he has to cope with that too...

instead of meeting alya at school, marinette and alya have been best friends since childhood which brings a bigger stress on marinette when she can't even tell the one person in the whole world her biggest secret- especially since alya IMMEDIATELY becomes ladybug's biggest fan and defender and they never would keep secrets before- and alya could tell she wasn't saying something. i like imagining the added stress of losing that confidant marinette would have had for years and years and having to handle some of the most stressful things she's ever experienced on her own save for tikki with alya slowly worrying more and she can't say a thing. alya got into photography in middle school during projects with marinette and ended up wanting to study it, but seeing ladybug only fuels her love of it- running the ladyblog and social medias about the hero while marinette watches on wishing she could tell alya for the longest time. eventually she does but that's down the line lol

nino is still adrien's first friend in the new school and he meets everyone else through him. i think nino and luka would be fairly close in this au with them working together whenever the other needed help on projects or just helping the other out with learning new skills. i'm not sure how to write it here but i like thinking about alya and nino's dynamic as a couple since what i remember of the show was mostly them together then talking about adrienette instead lmao

one of the biggest examples of missed potential in mlb to me is chloe, so shes rewritten as bully with hero worship of ladybug(/baby's first lesbian crush) only to have her dreams crushed when ladybug takes back her miraculous and says she doesn't think she'll be able to trust her with it again. not sure if she would let it fully go to her head here or if she just suddenly found comfort in pollen only to have ladybug take the kwami away without listening to her side of things. i have a whole thing written for her in my notes app that ill never share just know shes fleshed out here way more than in canon- i already rambled too much about kagami so i'll hold myself back here LOL

marc is such a fun character to me but i REALLY don't like his look in canon and he's one of the main characters i wanted to redesign so i let myself have a lot of fun with him to make up for the years of looking at his canon one

nathaniel is similar, i don't want to change too much about him but i think he's a fun character and his blazer/tshirt/skinny jeans/converse fit in canon pissed me off for years on the back burner lmfao... i think i might've leaned too far away from a style his canon counterpart might choose, but he goes to an art school and if his multiple of his friends being in the fashion track and his partner being an alt kid can't stop him from wearing a plain tshirt and blazer then idk what could

JULEKA..... why does her first saga design look like a sims 4 townie that's goth and into track? not even current sims 4, 2014 sims 4. sims 4 fitness stuff. i'm getting to the characters i wouldn't change a ton about story wise now clearly, i just think their drip is nonexistent, barren. i think her going from near full coverage purple and black goth to bright pink clown when akumatized is a fun dichotomy. i don't think i'll be redesigning any other outfits (or characters for that matter), but that drastic of a change is very fun. i could see her occasionally wearing a privacy mask like marc on days she feels too socially anxious.

i think a modern take on rose would almost inevitably lean into lovecore, but i tried to keep her more simple. i will always love purple/pink ships and the tall, dark, and broody looking juleka who's mostly just quiet and shy and rose who's short, bombastic, and kind with a huge heart is a very sweet and fun pair. in the show she has an unspecified illness which could be any number of things, so i thought maybe she would need to bundle up more than the others (granted there's a lot of long sleeves here lol)- more layers than usual to regulate in the cooler months and the opposite during the warmer ones. i kind of drew these with spring in mind, so she'd probably be wearing thicker leggings or something here- she still REALLY wants to look cute even if her body is mad at her (relatable).

i'm intentionally not getting into the miraculouses or akuma or kwami or the whole (gestures vaguely to gabriel and lila and everything else) here since i'm already yapping more than this justifies for an au i'm not doing anything with. just had a lot of thoughts while designing these. i didn't get a ton into ships here aside from the last few, but i also don't really know how i'd deal with the "love square" since i was never invested in that and instead liked lukadrienette and marigami more lol... i'd also want to explore marinette finding out about chloe's one sided crush on ladybug and her reaction vs chloe dealing with the fallout of hero worship. if you read all of this thank you ilu mwah mwah

[mothiir]

homecoming

For @remembrancer-of-heresy

Hope this is okay ! I’m not completely pleased with it but if I don’t publish it now I never will.

cw: threats of cannibalism, dubcon.

Sevatar, like all his brothers, is accustomed to a war fought from the shadows: striking into the soft underbelly of the foe, departing like mist at dawn, leaving them to find the strung-up bodies of their children in the rafters, and warnings daubed in blood on the floor. If you do not obey the Emperor, you earn his justice — so goes a somewhat tongue-in-cheek saying from Nostramo, for only the most starry-eyed idiots of the legion truly believe that what they do is just. 

To be a Night Lord is to be a killer: a defiler, a flenser of flesh, a bane of the innocent. Sevatar has known this to be true since the moment he took the midnight; indeed, he knew before that, when he was naught but a neophyte, battling for scraps with his brothers, all fresh-grown muscle and sharp teeth. 

He knows who he is, and he feels no shame in it. He knows what sort of war he is bred to fight, and he feels no shame in that either — the term ‘fair fight’ is a tune that means nothing, sung only by fools. 

And yet there are times — like this — when he cannot help but bemoan his lot just a little. This campaign is challenging; they face not an isolated world in rebellion, but a confederation stretching across worlds. A whole system, grown complacent and fat through Imperial protection. They stopped paying their tithe, and the Emperor was merciful, sending a diplomatic envoy to explain the error of their ways. 

The diplomats were executed as the red sun rose, and the message could not have been clearer: we do not want your peace. 

And so the Emperor had sent Konrad, instructing him to keep as much of the infrastructure intact as possible — this is a valuable system, rich with resources, with cities that span entire continents. This is no barbarous benighted rock, which Mortarion can scour clean with his latest pet virus, or the Lion can turn to charred rubble. 

No: this operation requires a scalpel.

All of this to say, that Sevatar has been busy these last few weeks. Skipping from world to world, with barely time to clean his blades between kills. He led his claw from assasination to assasination: flaying some noble in his quarters, leaving his lover to wake up beside a red raw corpse; obliterating an entire barracks worth of elite soldiers, sparing only one to carry the story on. He has not stopped; he has not rested. He has subsisted only on nutrient paste and the occasional bite of one of the rebels.

By the time he’s arrived back in his quarters he’s half-delirious with exhaustion, ravenous, and twitching with the desire to gut something. You’re sprawled out on his bed, snoring softly. It’s unusual to see you splayed about like that; whenever he is around you curl in on yourself, knees to chest, forehead to hands. 

Seeing you sprawled out, legs akimbo, hair sticking a little to your face…it’s decadent. Saliva pools in his mouth. You’re the most appetizing thing he’s seen in weeks, and he focuses on removing his armour to avoid doing something he will probably end up regretting. 

He murmurs the rites to appease the machine spirits of his armour as he disrobes; unlike other legions. Night Lords wear armour designed to be removed without the assistance of a tech-priest. No son of Nostramo worth his salt wants to be dependent on another for help clambering in and out of the suit that will save his life. 

The bodysuit is left in an ignoble pile of fabric by the bed. You’ll pick it up in the morning, tidy it away. He missed that when he was on campaign; those tiny insignificant acts you perform that make his life that much easier. 

Not that he needs you there, of course. It’s just pleasant not to have to think about these things. 

The only light in the room is the faint neon lights from the power-cables running along the walls; but to his eyes, it’s bright enough to see you in intricate detail. The slight downy hair on your cheeks; the movement of your eyes beneath your lids. Your breathing, steady and slow. 

He sniffs along the curve of your neck, your skin goose-pimpling at his exhalations. You smell sweet as cinnamon. He’s careful to suppress his Betcher’s Gland, not wanting to drizzle acid onto your flesh — but he is still drooling. Moisture drips onto your shoulder, runs down towards your clavicle. You twitch at the movement, starting to blink towards wakefulness. He hears your heart-rate change, speeding up; your scent spikes with delicious stress-hormones. This does nothing to assuage his hunger — fear makes every meal that much sweeter.

“Shhhh,” he breathes, his nose buried in your hair. “Do not leap away.”

His blood is up; he has more control than most, but he is still a hunter. Should you bolt like a prey-animal — well. He cannot be responsible for his instincts. 

You’re well-trained. You freeze at once, every limb rigid. “My lord,” you whisper. “Welcome home.”

He hums softly, still sniffing along your throat. The blue of your jugular is a tempting velvet ribbon, begging to be torn open and sucked dry. 

“Welcome me properly,” he coos. He’s teasing, though you would be forgiven for thinking it a threat. The hissing cadence of his voice always sounds like it promises swift violence. ”Like I showed you.”

You’ve been in his keeping for a little over two months, plenty of time to learn precisely how he likes you — and you’re a quick study. Without a moment of hesitation, you roll onto your belly, lifting your hips up in clear invitation. Your spine is one elegant curve. He runs his fingers along it, feeling the knobs of your vertebrae through the thin fabric of your nightgown, reminding himself that you’d make a brief meal —

(—a delicious meal—)

— a brief and unfulfilling meal and then he would have no one to arrange his bodysuit or polish his armour or swallow his cock down at the end of a long day. 

He plants a kiss just behind your ear, before reorientating himself, kneeling behind you, dragging you into the V his thighs make. He flips your nightgown up, revealing soft, plush flesh — and your cunt, hidden away. He never gets tired of the sight of your cunt before he wrecks it: pink and soft and small, and yet capable of taking so much. His thumbs dig into the cleft of your arse as his fingers splay down your thighs. 

“You’re so tiny,” he says, half to himself, pressing your cheeks together and pulling them apart once more, just to see how your cunt twitches and stretches. “You’d barely be a mouthful.”

Your body floods with cortisol; your heart rate spikes. Testament to your self control — and survival instinct — you do not attempt to squirm free. Instead, you go limp: utterly pliant. Fight, flight, freeze: those are the options humans pick from, when all else has been stripped from them. All those ancient chemicals squirting around in your amygdala, keeping your pretty heart beating. 

“My lord,” you say, your voice a little muffled against his bedding. “I don’t think —“

”Hush. I’m not planning to make a meal of you,” he says — but immediately contradicts himself, sinking his fangs into the warm flesh of your upper thigh. You stifle a scream into your palms. Normally, he’d rebuke you for that — he likes the miserable squeaky noises you utter — but he’s too busy sampling fear-ripe blood, swallowing down a drought like he’s one of Sanguinius’s self-righteous self-depriving bastards. 

When he pulls away, his chin is scarlet. 

“Not yet at least,” he says — you peer back at him, wild-eyed, unable to see anything in the gloom but his pale bulk. You cannot see the grin he throws your way, insouciant and knowing. Still, you don’t do anything as embarrassing as beg for mercy — so he assumes you know he is joking. 

He nips at your buttock, then licks a broad stripe across your cunt. This time, your squeal rings sharp and clear. 

Sevetar licks his way into you with very little grace, more concerned with loosening you for his cock than bringing you to climax. One hand holds you open, the other strokes his cock, and by the Throne, he’s as eager as a neophyte about to take his first skin. He’s practically quivering. He wants to cram himself inside you, fuck you until you scream and beg for mercy and that will only make him fuck you harder —

A few more shoves of his tongue, then he’s pulling back, spitting noisily onto your hole to give himself a little more lubrication. You whine protest at the loss of his mouth, lifting your hips, seeking out more sensation — then, too late, you realise that you are demanding something of him, and you begin to gibber an apology — 

“My lord, forgive me —“

”Hush,” he says, smacking your thigh affectionately, a honeyed mess of your slick and your blood dripping down his chin “Nothing to forgive. Missed me, did you?”

“—yes, lord,” you say, hesitating slightly. He imagines your fretsome mind whirling, trying to work out what it is that he wants you to say. He licks across your neck, drinking in the wine of your terror-sweat. “Missed you my lord, I —“

He pushes in, and you gasp, words lost in your sudden exhalation. Your cunt is a panicky clutch around his cock, trying to keep him out, but only succeeding in drawing deeper, inch by inexorable inch.

“My lord,” you manage, propping yourself up on your elbows “I —“

Sevatar adjusts himself minutely, careful not to bring his full body weight down on you, but eager to cram more of himself into your guts. Your breath staggers out in pained bursts, like you can’t heave in air around the girth of him — as if, against all biological probability, he’s fucked your lungs flat into the top of your rib cage.

“Take it,” he growls, like you have any choice in the matter. Halfway in, and he pulls himself out, slowly, slowly, slowly, watching your flesh cling sweetly to his prick — and then in again, just as slowly. Only this time, he fucks in a little deeper. And then he does it again. And again. And again. Your huffing breath soon   turns to squeaks, and then full on cries as he sinks deeper into you. 

“Y-yes, my lord,” you manage. “Th-thank you and —“

Your voice breaks into a cry as Sevatar fucks into you harder, losing himself in the delicious cling of your cunt; the feeling that nothing — not battle, nor torture, nor even the momentary approval of his Primarch’s gaze — can best. Your innards are warm, pliable, perfect, shaped around every thrust — with just the right amount of resistance to add the thrill of conquest. 

“—thank you,” you whimper. And — and —“

To be a Night Lord is to be a flenser of flesh, a bane of the innocent; sadism comes as naturally to Sevatar as shadow-stalking and skin-carving. You never sound sweeter to him than you do when you’re like this: pinioned under him, whimpering and hiccuping. His only response to your aborted attempts to speak is to fuck you harder, grabbing hold of the headboard to steady himself. His balls slap against your thighs with obscene fleshy sounds; his exhalations are more snarl than breath. 

“ — and — my lord — welcome home.”

Pleasure overtakes him in a blinding wave; he cums so hard that for a moment he sees the silvery outline of stars, a flurry of crows taking flight. His cock pulses his release into you, filling you to overflow. 

“Welcome home,” you repeat. He pulls out, and luxuriates in the sight of your puffy fucked-out cunt leaking his spend. It drips down your thighs, snagging on the wounds his teeth left. Briefly, he considers scooping it up, pushing it back inside you — but he decides against it. After all, he has been away for too long — and he has more than one load to cram inside you tonight.