#I wish false fall was real fall

[jamandjazz]

Woah I just realized how many half finished drawings and drafts I have 🧍‍♂️

[leviathans-watching]

omg i love your work!! if posisble, can you do a part 2 to touching their wings and stuff with the dateables or maybe other characters? thank you and take care :D

touching their tails/horns/etc. pt 2

includes: diavolo, barbatos, simeon, mephisto, raphael x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .5k | rated t | m.list | pt 1

a/n: i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, either because their forms haven't been revealed or just because i wanted to so just assume most of this is not canon at all lol

please reblog and like <33

➳ diavolo laughs as you poke at the gilded ends of his wings, taking in the intricate design. “it’s real gold,” he says before you can ask, gesturing to the tips of his horns, “as are these. it’s a birth present to children of our family, laced with magic that let’s it grow and change along with is. it’s a symbol of our wealth, our status.” you reach up to touch his horns, and he leans into your touch, happy to let you explore as you wish. “sometimes i think they’re a bit much, and then i remember who i am,” he continues, and you chuckle, making him laugh again too.

➳ barbatos’ tail twitches as you run your hand along it, obviously surprised by the texture. “that feels good,” he says mildly, and you give him a grin, twisting the end of each forked part between your fingers gently. if it keeps you occupied he’s happy to let you play with his tail for as long as you want. only because of that, obviously. not because he can’t remember the last time, if ever, someone’s touched him like this. or because your touch is soothing something inside of him he hadn’t known needed soothed.

➳ mephisto bows his head for you, letting you feel over the nubs where his horns should have been. “they never grew in quite properly,” he explains, sighing as you scratch gently at his scalp around them, “which is why i don’t often reveal my demon form. it’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it? of course, my parents offered to have false horns inset, and lord diavolo knows we had the money for it, but, well, that just sounded like a bother.” you press your fingers to hs head, eyes steady, and he’s glad to see you’re not thinking of him any differently.

➳ raphael unfurls his wings, and you catch your breath. he’s often been told that his wings are beautiful, richly colored like a peacock’s, and your reaction goes on to support that opinion. “you can touch, if you’d like,” he offers, and you don’t hesitate, burying your fingers in the downy feathers near where they connect to his back. his head falls back, and a quiet peace goes over the two of you as you stroke your way from base to wing tip, then back, soothing actions putting him on the verge of sleep.

➳ simeon wakes up to the feel of your touch on his wing, soft and hesitant. sometime during the night, he’d transformed into his angel form, wings splayed out and over the bed, almost covering the whole thing in their enormity. they certainly cover you, like a warm, live, down blanket. he twitches instinctively, and you pull your hands back. “no, no,” he says sleepily, “you can keep going. it feels good when you touch me.” he sees you smile and smiles too, even though he’s already being lured back into sleep by your soft strokes across the top of his wing, where the feathers are smooth and packed together.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[gremlingottoosilly]

The horror and the wild (Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) Medieval Fantasy AU

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. CHAPTER 1 Word count: 4906 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig

This fic on AO3

— I do not wish to speak about politics before breakfast!

— Your Highness, I’m afraid, politics would not be waiting patiently until you’re finished with your sweet pastries. 

— What do you mean? 

— The Emperor’s army is on our doorstep. 

The look on the face of the Princess – your Princess – was priceless. First, it was a surprise, her adorable features all twisted in a very unladylike gasp. Then, it was terror – the first time you saw her ever express that emotion since the palace was always clear of anything that could scare her royal highness, from mice and snakes, and up to severely ugly people(poor, poor Elvin – he’d a good life if it weren’t for his pointy slabby jaw). Then, and it was the final emotion on her illustrious face – it was anger. To nobody’s surprise, the anger was mostly coming at you. 

You see – you’re a Princess's most loyal handmaiden. Raised under her crib, going to the same classes, doing everything in favor of your royal highness, from warming up her jewelry and to trying the food first to see if it’s poisoned – your whole life’s goal is to make sure that the Princess is as comfortable as possible. You’re her shadow, her servant, the closest to a friend she can have – and if you were the bearer of the bad news, it’s only natural that she would be angry at you in the first instance, and not at the imperial army clashing down at your tiny bordering kingdom. 

— Where are the guards?!

— Judging by the screams I am not sure if there are any left in the outer levels of the castle. And if the King didn’t come with a usual note after breakfast, it’s safe to assume that he is more busy. 

With a trained movement, you quickly duck under the table when the Princess, naturally, throws a plate in your direction. You knew she wasn’t meaning it – your poor, innocent darling Princess, she was just as scared as you were but had not learned of how to hide her emotions under sarcasm and false calmness. Your job is to keep her safe – and calm – even if there is no royal family to serve anymore. You don’t want to think of the possible outcomes – King took you in, a simple peasant girl with no talents whatsoever, and gave you an illustrious education, the most sought job in the whole kingdom, and an allowance that would allow you to study in the real collegium, were they to accept women. You don’t want this place to fall in Northern Empire clutches – and you especially don’t want the Princess to learn the harmful ways of two pretty young women trapped in a castle full of enemy soldiers. 

— How could this happen?!

— I’d have an answer for this question, Your Highness, but you ordered to urn any mail from the Northen Empire. Perhaps, they send us quite a bit of war declarations before finally going down. 

Your hand goes to the side of your skirt, clutching on the suicide dagger – if something happens, you’d have to kill the Princess first, take the sin of killing oneself from her innocent soul – and then go down after her, hoping that your dog-like loyalty would allow you to serve her in heaven. 

The Princess has many things that she’d like to take with her to the afterlife. You better start preparing her package soon – this castle wasn’t built to be protected from the army of beasts, hiding under human skin – your kingdom never provoked any wars, always trying to search for the opportunity of negotiations – and now this comes to bite you right in your soft rear, without a sufficient amount of guards or a suitable army to protect itself. 

You’d pray for the god, but your god wants you to die. 

— Princess, we need to…

Before you could say anything else, an explosion erupts somewhere in the southern tower – the closest place to enter the Princess chambers. You can hear screaming, you can hear laughing – a foreign language, the one you are proficient with, but it never made it less barbaric, less harsh. These people talk like swords clangs against each other – like a harsh metal against your skull. You’d give up anything to not understand what they are talking about. 

There is something to be done before the soldiers arrive, finding only a few guards and two pretty, terrified young things. You might not be afraid of death, but you sure are terrified of what will come before their blades would slit your throat. You do not wish to die with blood between your legs. You do not wish that fate for the Princess either. 

“The Princess should be here.”

“Did Lord say anything about trophies?”

“Don’t take anything now. Tiger said we were never here – he would pay us later”

“What about…”

“Don’t kill the Princess either. Emperor want her to himself, remember?”

“Come on, are we here for a whore?”

“A royal whore, dumbass. Now shut up before Emperor hears you.”

They laugh and you can hear the Princess whimpering, crying softly – all of the layers of harshness are washed away with every tear rolling down her perfect cheek. You move to them as fast as you can – these stupid clothes allow you at least some freedom of movement, saved from the excessive decorations and expensive, heavy fabrics – you are only as few levels higher than cleaning rags. you could probably rip away the lower levels of your skirt and run – the Princess wouldn’t even be able to move without your hand steadying herself. 

You need strength to not slap her right now – you know that the pain on her perfect puffy cheek would help get her to listen, but nothing in your body moves to ever hurt her, no matter the cause. You push yourself to the door, thinking – your castle isn’t the highest one in the whole world, if anything, the Princess would be able to escape either via the window or the secret tunnels – but they would search for her, they would never accept defeat like that. Even if you’d stall them for long enough, pulling every bit of luck you don’t have – they wouldn’t stop if they had the goal of catching the Princess. 

— Your radiance, we have to go!

— Where? The castle is going to crumble any second now, and Mama and Papa are…

You press your ear against the tough wood, listening to the soldier’s speaking – language is even harsher now when the adrenaline runs through your veins instead of blood. You would give up anything to be strong – to have your dancing and embroidering lessons switched to sword fighting, to archery, to read dark arcana books instead of romance novels that you and Her Preciousness liked so much. Your hands are soft and delicate, only a bit harsh from occasional cleaning and serving – you’re a shame to any servant in the castle, a house pet made to entertain and please, not to fight and work. 

The Princess is a cherished treasure for your kingdom. Protected and hidden away, the King was smart enough to know that a royal gem like her would make all the old rulers of kingdoms surrounding yours go into a frenzy – so Her Radiancy wasn’t ever allowed to any royal mingling and balls until she’d reach the age of at least 21. Her birthday was next month – a small mercy, knowing that there was a possibility of never getting of that age. 

“Is that a Princess?”

You hear a woman – probably one of the higher members of the court, considering her high-pitched accented whimpers with a familiar voice. God bless her soul and dedicate her a quick death – you don’t want to think what would come of her if not for this prayer.

“Princess should be in her quarters. This one definitely doesn’t speak like a royal meat”

“How do we even know which one is the Princess?”

“She should speak like one. Would be easier if her family ordered a fucking portrait.” 

But…you were with the Princess your whole life. You know how to act like her, you know how she talks, how all royals talk. You know how manners, you know how to sing, how to dance, you received the education that allowed her to copy your study work and give it to her personal teachers – her own reflection wouldn’t copy her better than you would. 

You’re young, like a Princess, you’re pretty, almost like a Princess – and you’re loyal like a dog, itching to pay your debt to the royal family. 

— Your Highness! You need to run, please, just take the secret route through the walls and…

It was the most horrible moment for her to put her foot down.

— I…I live to serve the royal family. Dying for you will be the greatest of honors. 

— I will not just leave you here!

— They’d defile and kill us both, Your Highness. But if I just pretend to be you, they won’t come looking for you, won’t they? They would have what they wanted and you will be free.

— What about you? 

You’d feel hurt for how quickly she ran to the secret tunnel – if such feelings were normal for a servant to have. You’d feel betrayed if it wasn’t the life or death situation – if you weren’t putting on her dress as swiftly as possible before the soldiers would come running for you. It’s funny, how you always wanted to try her dress – how you were jealous of everything she had, even if you were the closest to her – you pride yourself in not caring about such silly mortal possessions, and yet, you always wanted to try something as beautiful as her dress. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror – terrified, small, ready to die at any point or to be hauled back to the Northern Empire like a piece of meat. Dress suits you, the bright pink would tell about innocence and radiance – but not it smells of blood and betrayal. If the soldiers thought that the Princess killed herself in her room, they would surely not think about trying to find her. 

You push the tiny dagger against your wrist, praying to all of your knowledge of medicine that your death will be quick and as painless as possible. You left out a silent prayer – knowing that the god would only welcome you after your death. 

Not a war, Horangi corrects himself – a massacre. 

***

Tiger of the North was fucking tired.

This whole mission – declaring war that no one seen and no one wanted, marching through the street without an army behind him, felt more like a bandit’s doing than something that a general of the best army in the world would do. This whole operation is a stunt, an order from the Emperor that no one expected – seriously, sometimes he still felt like a child with new, exciting toys. For all he knew, König never saw a Princess – yet, he sent his best men to take her out, not caring that this would mean a war on the bordering kingdom.

Not his fault this shithole didn’t even bother to reply to any of the Emperor’s letters regarding the marital status of the Princess. Not his fault they don’t even have a proper army – the king died, gutted like a fucking pig, and the queen followed soon after. Their unit can count less than 20 people, with royal hounds and other animals to help – yet, no one was able to foresee them entering the castle and butchering it. It’s a hunt, not a war or even an assassination – a hunt for the Princess, the useless fucking thing. 

If they’d only bothered to get at least some portraits – something to tell what she looks like. Perhaps, she is ugly, a mix of a toad that fucked a pile of shit. Perhaps, she is crazy and eats pillows and keeps her handmaidens' heads like a trophy. Perhaps, she don’t fucking exist and the king just didn’t want to say out loud that his dick was never working enough to produce an heir. 

— Search the quarters! I don’t want them to have time to know that their precious king is dead. 

The low rumble of König beside his almost makes him dart from surprise. He wears a mask, of course, not even trusting his people to see how he looks like – perhaps, he is as ugly as a toad that…ah, shit, he is using the same comparison again. 

A faceless ruler and a faceless Princess – a match made in heaven. 

— You think other kingdoms would send their condolences? 

— I’m sure that Price is already aching to write a congratulatory letter for the expansion of the empire. A nice addition to the title, ja? 

The emperor laughs, a sword in his hand, dark from the king’s blood. Horangi still doesn’t understand why he would decide to go on such a dangerous operation – if anything, they could haul the Princess back to the capital, or at least the nearest Empire territories – but no, König decided to go here himself, searching for a Princess that would, surely, not be worthy his attention. If this man didn’t want to marry all the options other kingdoms offered him, he surely wouldn’t be satisfied with a girl from this shithole of a country. Their land is barely enough for a normal castle, let alone all of the riches that the Empire provided. 

Yet, König stumbles in every room, searching for something – for someone. Other soldiers don’t dare to take trophies in front of their emperor, knowing that this operation should be as secretive as possible – no other rulers would bat an eye for a mysterious royal passing and the quick marriage of the Princess of this kingdom, but Graves would be quite concerned and bitching about the Northern Empire coming close to his kingdom. God, if König could just bathe every last one of them in blood, he would have. 

— Sir, I believe the Princess should be here Unless she killed herself already. 

— Those people honor death more than they do life. Better be fast before I’d have to marry a corpse. 

— We could bring her back. 

— Nothing can wash off the dead smell even after resurrection. You think why Krueger can only have sex with common whores? 

They both have to suppress their laugh at the thought of the royal advisor. Poor, dead Krueger, serving a contract that even death would not be able to break – it’s a good thing to have it on their side. Provides a good amount of jokes just from being around him. 

König rushes to the door that looks the most guarded – judging only by the amount of dead servants around it. The Princess must be here and, knowing the traditions of your kingdom, he has about a minute before you’d kill yourself, yelling something ridiculous about finding solace in death and that they would never take you alive. The door comes crashing down ridiculously easy – or it’s his strength challenging in the form of barbaric savagery. When he pushed into the room, he didn’t see what he was expecting to see. 

He sees something better. 

You look divine in the moonlight, your form, draped in an expensive dress that you only managed to take on halfway through, getting stuck in that stupid corset and billions of tiny bows and cutting jewels. You look majestic, godlike, you look like something from a fairytale. He was anxious before this, thinking if it was worth it – overthinking every bit of the operations, evaluating if the enemy kingdoms would be fine with him just taking you. König wasn’t sleeping a good few nights before this – now he looks at you and wants to kneel in front of your perfect form. 

— No wonder they didn’t have portraits. They wouldn’t capture your beauty. 

He shook the knife – little thing, as dainty as you are – from your trembling hands. Poor thing terrified of him – he’d pick you up and haul you on your shoulder already, but he wants to take a moment and just admire the comparison between his huge, muscular arms and your fragile form. He knows he is big, imposing, threatening – but compared to you, he feels like a war god paying tribute to his newest sacrifice. 

You shake in his grasp, not fighting it – Princess wouldn’t fight, you remind yourself. If killing yourself is not possible, if your dignity is tarnished, the death and torture shall be met with silence – you put your lips together, as firmly as you can. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sobbing when his hand goes to cup your face – a faint trace of your makeup staining his dark gloves. 

— This is the declaration of war. You were…

— This is no war, meine Liebe. How could we fight the nation with a dead king? 

The Princess would cry, learning about the death of her parents. You try to force more tears, making yourself look as miserable as possible – it isn’t hard in this brute’s hands, with his soldiers surrounding you – but, for some reason, he doesn’t look surprised when you are not crying immediately at the mention of the death of your supposed parents. 

He laughs, cupping your face in a rough, crude gesture. He shouldn’t treat Princess like this – even you are not used to men being this vile, to speak of such lewd matters with his men. They surround you, laughing, not even bothering to pay the least bit of respect in front of their Emperor. 

He wears a hood and it makes him look like an executioner, not a ruler. But, perhaps, you would welcome a butcherer more than you would a husband. 

— Let me go! The guards shall rise to my abduction and they will not leave thou to…

You don’t even need to force yourself to speak like her – you’re royal by any means, other than blood and service. You can imitate her your whole life if needed, shadowing her your whole short existence – it only hurts you more when you are praying that the Princess, dressed up in your garments, would be able to escape. You know that someone will save her, and take care of her – it’s just like the plot of your favorite romance book. An abandoned Princess of the burned kingdom rises to be the wife of a mysterious, masked blood knight, saving him from pushing his soul into the darkness. You, in this story, would be just a minor victim for the author to kill.

— The guards would rise if they weren’t dead, Princess. Too late to call for them now. 

He sneers at this “Princess” like a snake, ready to sink her teeth into your soft, limp body. You whimper, finally trying to get your knife from his hand – as gracefully as you can, remembering that you are to stall the time for her to escape, not to actually save yourself. He laughs and lets you go suddenly – only to pick you up like you weigh nothing. Pick you up like a bride, not a pig for him to gut. 

The tip of your ears is burning – your whole face is burning, you feel ashamed, embarrassed, angry, every emotion swirls in your head as he doesn’t even try to be subtle about his affection. You thank god for the layers of skirt you are wearing – but the upper part of the dress is barely holding together, showing a scandalous amount of shoulder. You are tainted – a scandal in the court, if there was a court alive. 

— Put me down this instant. My kingdom will not just accept these levels of disrespect!

You say this weakly than you wanted to. He laughs – thunder and bear roar, ocean waves against the mountains – you whimper when his hand goes to rip the upper part of your dress entirely, leaving you barely covered, with only three layers of clothing and a corset between you and his horrible, dangerous hands. A lady should not be seen by men when she is in less than five layers of clothing – still, you feel much better when the heavy fabric lets go of your skin. Still, you feel mortified, knowing, what would happen when he started to take off your clothes. 

Well…you think you know what will happen. You and Her Highness read books with a scandalous amount of intimacy – touches, hugs, kisses even, the last book having record five instants of the main heroes being in close proximity with each other – you also know that whenever a male enemy soldier captures a woman, he is doing…something before killing them. Not quite sure what, but obviously torturous. 

— The only kingdom that is left for you, your Highness, is what lies between your legs. I’ll be sure to pay my regards later.

Before you could say something – anything for that matter, he already hauls you away, still stuck in his hands like a trophy. You thank god that he doesn’t see the difference between you and the Princess. You never knew your acting talents would be of this amount, but nonetheless, you feel complete, knowing that the Princess is safe and sound. 

— What is the purpose of your actions? 

You are weak, voice whimpering and quiet. You don’t want to touch him, but the hungry gazes of his soldiers make you weak and fragile – you cling to him, trying to cover your modesty. The corset is a part of the wardrobe that no fine lady should ever show to men – yet, this is the only thing now that is keeping your tits together, saving at least some of your dignity. The heavy skirt of the torn dress lingers on your legs, covering you as much as barely holding up fabric can. König’s chest rumbles with a laugh when he notices you clinging onto him like a helpless kitten. 

— I’m taking my bride as your parents were not kind enough to answer any of the proposals.

— Why didn’t you just visit? 

If it were for him, he would just sprawl you on the ground and take what he wants. He would, were he a simple soldier, not the North Emperor – he would if there weren’t any witnesses if there were no intentions of marrying you later. But alas, he needs your hands in marriage – he needs you whole in marriage, from head to toe, from your heart to your soul, from your pussy to that sweet mouth of yours – and he can’t have all that unless he is patient. 

— I did. Right now, for that matter.

— As the only heir to the throne, this would mean the death of my country. You can’t just…

— Who is there to stop me, little one? Your parents? Dead. Your army? They would kneel for my men were we at actual war. 

You close your mouth. He laughs again, this terrifying hood of his moving when he shakes his head. You sob, tears flowing freely down your cheeks – it’s a wonder you can still talk while crying like this, but you need to keep up the act and you need to stall the time as much as possible. His hand goes to wipe away your tears and, for a second, you almost want to bite him. But, Princesses don’t bite – they lay in the hands of their captors and wait for princes to save them. 

— The other kingdoms would protect us, we had war pacts!

— Were you loved enough to start a war with the Empire to protect you from getting married? 

— I shall…

— You’re too young to speak like a queen, Liebe. Leave that to me, ja? 

You open your mouth. 

You close your mouth. 

You open your mouth again. 

— Please, let me go. 

This is a quiet, soft sob – König stops for a second, looking at your fragile, vulnerable expression. You’re as weak as a kitten, as adorable as a bunny – and precious, his little treasure, tucked away nicely in the deepest corners of this kingdom. He almost feels bad for breaking you, for taking you away. He killed many men, the king included, and he captured more land than his father ever could dream of – the biggest empire lies at his hands and yet, he feels weak when you cry in his hands. 

It still suits you more – a pained expression, pure terror, all the emotions that a young woman like you should experience when she is captured by someone like him – he believes in terror through submission and the tears streaming down your face makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

— I have all the right for you, little one. It’s your father’s fault that you were not protected more. 

He laughs, his large, imposing hand goes to cup your ass – you don’t even understand how his touch manages to get through this many layers of clothing. Your skirt is in complete disarray when he touches your legs, squishing and destroying the crinoline parts and whale bones. So much went into creating this skirt, a horrifying construct that never allowed the Princess to move freely, stuck in one place like a glorified little dolly – now it becomes your grave, mortifying and freezing you in one place. 

— You can’t…no, please, don’t…

He grabs your hips with the ferocity of a warrior, not an emperor. Rulers shouldn’t kidnap Princesses from neighboring countries, and they shouldn’t lead their troops on an operation that would destroy any diplomatic relationships with them – but he stands here, no more than a normal soldier, and you were never this terrified in your life before. He is a monster, a beast, an anomaly that shouldn’t exist in this world – even your desire to protect the Princess isn’t stopping you from crying and shaking. You bite your lips and sob softly, quietly, hoping he won’t just throw you to his men. 

— This is what politics leads to, no? Your father decided to stop being diplomatic…and I did too. 

He isn’t my father, you want to scream. He did nothing but take you from the streets, and slums you were scrambling aimlessly like nothing more but a tiny critter under his boots – he gave you everything, any book you wanted, the best company in the whole kingdom. He isn’t your father, still, but you pay for his mistakes – mistakes that you had no idea of. Princess ordered you to ignore any mail that would come from “This Northern brute” and you didn’t know that it could come to this. 

If only you were to steal those letters and read them instead of throwing them away…but what would it come to? Princess wouldn’t marry someone like König, she had no like for the emperor twice her age, for the human who defiled the very laws of nature, sitting in his high castle, ordering the undead soldiers around. Monster with, probably, three heads and two faces, with four hands hiding under his magnificent armor. A beast who is…

A best who is cradling you in his arms like you were his lover, not his victim. 

— Put me down. Please. 

— I’m getting tired of listening to little Princesses wailing. Tell me, Liebling, do you wish to continue this journey quietly or unconsciously? 

His hand goes to your neck – no doubt, he would be able to squish the life out of you if he so wished. No doubt, you are fucked – utterly and completely, with his ability to do whatever he wants your inability to stop him in any way. Sobbing softly, not wanting for him to continue this humiliation, you simply nod – to whatever option he deems appropriate. Princess would be screaming, yelling for help, and she would stomp her adorable feet on the ground until she’d get what she wanted – but you are no Princess, and playing pretend already makes you miserable enough. 

— I do not wish to see the destruction of my kingdom. 

— It’s not destroyed, little Princess. Merely defiled, captured and burned down. 

— You didn’t…

— Of course not, kleine Hase. I wouldn’t dare to burn the newest addition to my empire…unless you would make me to. 

It’s not a threat – it’s a promise, poorly concealed by the obvious smile in his voice. You cling to his chest and hear the rumble of his laugh when he pushes his cape over your shivering form. It’s a small form of comfort, but an unwelcome one – you’d rather be shivering, naked, and exposed in front of his troops than find comfort in the way he treats you. His cloak is heavy, more suited for the harsh weather of the central parts of the Empire – not your kingdom, mostly warm and wet, with bountiful rains and plentiful soil. You understand why he would want this land – you don’t understand why he would want you. 

— Don’t hurt my people. 

— Be nice then. You can be nice to your husband, ja? 

If you weren’t a Princess, you’d claw his fucking eyes out – get your dainty hands under his hood and scrap the pulsating flesh, turn his face into a mush of blood and gore. If you were real Princess, you would declare war on the Empire and die the protector of your kingdom – not a terrified girl. 

But you’re neither a Princess nor a commoner. 

You push your lips together, allowing König to take you away. Accepting your fate not with dignity, but with quiet, fearful acceptance. 

[vesora]

there is no past

ive been avoiding making posts because all the info u need is already posted but i saw making this post in a 'dream' so might as well

so what exactly is the past? it is an event or experience that precedes the present time.

however if you have been in the loa community for long you may have realised that the only time that exists is now. i had mentioned this briefly in a previous post but i will expand.

the past and the future are concepts made up of thought and false identification. there is essentially no proof of your past existing except from in your mind. therefore how can we be extremely sure that the past actually exists and it's not something we made up?

there is no difference between an 'imagined' past and a past you think you experienced. they both exist in the mind. it is your false identification with an illusory past that makes you believe that what you see in the '3D' is real, when in fact if you choose your 'past' to be different, the '3D' will 'change' accordingly. this is why neville introduced the topic of revision. everything in this world is malleable. the only reason you see the world as solid is because you assume it's solid. if you believed it was liquid, then it would be liquid. there are no objective facts in this world, only what YOU as the creator deems to be true.

isn't this incredibly liberating? nothing from your past holds you back, because it doesn't exist except in your mind! and guess what? YOU are in control of your mind so you can have your desired past where you experience the things you want to and which reflect on the present day.

every moment is a moment you can start afresh. every new moment is a moment you are liberated from your subconscious habits. destroy what you do not want to experience and let it be destroyed. do not come back to it, it does not exist. maybe your ego wants you to revisit it and you become trapped in the clutches of your own mind and your reality becomes a prison, but how silly is that for a God? when you wish to paint, you gather acrylics or watercolours and buy some brushes but without the action of you painting, the canvas remains empty. it remains as it was before because you did not decide to paint. you just stared at the canvas just wishing, hoping, it would change. there is no such thing as 'inspired' action or any of that law of attraction BS. what i am talking about is the act of DECIDING and ACCEPTING that YOU are the painter and the world is your canvas.

don't fall into the trap of just reading posts and understanding it intellectually, apply it. there is literally nothing holding you back, NOTHING. the human body cannot manifest but YOU can. the habits, memories, and thoughts of the mind are illusory. YOU have the power to choose what you want to experience by consciously identifying yourself as the person you wish to be and identify yourself as the life you wish to live. there is no duality, you ARE it now.

although we have said it countless times, leave the world alone. it only listens to your command. it does not exist without you being aware of it, so why not choose to be aware of something you desire? why not choose to be aware of a different past?

there is nothing to do except realise that the human body-mind is illusory. it cannot hold you back. it cannot MAKE you experience something you, as the creator, do not want to.

be free! you are in control. there is nothing outside of you. all is happening within you. you have an abundance of joy and resources within you, access it. live a life you deserve. take life easy. have fun with the human experience. be your own anchor and be grounded in your own power as god.

[nightcolorz]

Could you tell me your interpretation of why the Devil's minion split up after qotd? I only read up to that book and i've been learning through spoilers

omg I love this question! I personally think it was sort of an inevitability. Armand and Daniel were super unstable, on and off again-y while Daniel was human, and the binding factor that kept them together was that Armand was a vampire and Daniel was a human. Daniel can’t stay away from Armand for long because he’s obsessed and enthralled with everything monstrous and other about him (he’s also quite literally addicted to his blood). Daniel is so attached to Armand partly I think because he desperately wants to experience vampirism and after the affair with Louis he can’t see a reality for himself without vampirism in his life—whenever he tries to live normally he has that nagging reminder that their r supernatural wonderful things he will never be a part of and it drives him crazy.

Armand is in love with Daniel because he’s fascinated by all the things that make Daniel human. He considers him his link to the “modern age” and the thing that connects him to what he craves the most (humanity). Armand finds it very difficult to connect with people and by extension the world after how isolated he’s been for a good chunk of his immortality, and connection is very important to him. Daniel is how he experiences that. Armand also I think very much envies humans and wishes in a way to return to his humanity, and in this he finds experiencing humanity through daniel and seeing it in him very enthralling and special. Also Armand considers Daniel a mirror to how he was as a human (immature, lustful, brave, obsessed with the supernatural, doomed to failure), and Armand is very very frightened of seeing someone who he considers an embodiment of all he loves about humanity and a representative of the naivety he once had fall down his same path and loose it all to madness and immortal hell.

and obviously this is a huge issue!! Because Daniel loves Armand for his vampirism and Armand loves Daniel for his humanity, and both of them fundamentally want to abandon the thing the other prizes them for. But the tragedy there is that it’s not so superficial!! They also just love each other in a simpler, more personal sense. Daniel feels free with Armand, he feels like he can be the insane person he rlly is when they’re together. Armand gives Daniel access to the type of unhinged freedom and intense connection that he wants from life. He’s a walking subject Daniel can study, someone who never stops being fascinating (perfect for a journalist). And he loves his layers and his complexity, all the gross and horrible parts of him. Daniel first falls for Armand when he hears him genuinely laugh. <3, For armand, Daniel basically the only person who’s rlly ever seen him for who he is and loved him for it. Armand has a pattern of being shaped by people into something else, or misperceived and loved for that false image, and Daniel is in love with all the worst parts of armand. He loves him for everything he is, Daniel even says he’s an Armand expert lol. He sees it all and he loves it. And Armand is experiencing this type of unconditionality for the first time. There’s real connection there! The issue is that despite this so much of their relationship is built upon the vampire and human dynamic and it’s super hard to move past that.

The choice that Armand makes when he turns Daniel is “do I value Daniel more then I value his humanity and what that represents” and of course, Armand chooses Daniel, even tho it breaks him to do what he considers to be unforgivable to this person he loves so deeply. Armand vowed very early on that he would never turn a person into a vampire. And it’s cuz Armand rlly doesn’t like being a vampire 😭 He knows he wasn’t supposed to be a vampire, his maker goes around talking all the time about how armand was a mistake he should have never made and he’s fucked up bcus of how vampirism has affected him. And Armand knows that bcus of this he is a distortion of whatever person he could have been, and he’s always longing to understand part of what he’s missing. it’s rlly pretty sad. And so it makes sense that Armand would hate to take on the responsibility of, as he sees it, potentially ruining someone he loves. But he’d rather have Daniel alive than dead, so he turns him. Already this is hard on Armand bcus he considers it a selfish defeat to turn Daniel, choosing his own feelings over what he knows would be best for him. Daniel meanwhile is thrilled. Not off to a great start already

so Daniel was turned under insane circumstances and Armand and him have very little time to process any of it. Daniel is afraid to take life which isn’t abnormal in itself, but it freaks them both out. Once the insanity of queen of the damned settles down and Daniel and Armand r living together as a vampire x vampire couple at night island the issues begin to set in. There’s a huge disconnect now, Daniel is thrilled to be experiencing vampirism as he’s always wanted, Armand is grieving daniels humanity, neither of them r talking about it. Also, Daniel still has his addictive personality and his mental health issues which r exasperated by being a new vampire, so ofc he’s kind of loopy and kind of unstable. And Armand is realizing this and he’s thinking oh my god I’ve ruined Daniel I’ve destroyed the person I love the most, I’ve taken this person who I consider just like myself when I was a human and I’ve repeated the cycle of destruction, I destroy everything I touch oh my god. And I imagine this thought pattern led to Armand distancing himself from Daniel and being agitated and off putting, and I can say that being rlly excited about a change that ur partner is passive aggressively hostile about is like actual hell.

And the kicker!!! Armand’s primary mode of communication with his loved ones is the mind gift. It’s basically his safety net, in tvl it’s explained that Armand rarely ever talks out loud because he finds speaking through his mind much more comfortable. He uses the mind gift to express his feelings when he can’t with words, which is a pretty handy tool in a relationship when ur someone who struggles with verbal communication. But when Armand turns Daniel!! He can not communicate through the mind gift with him anymore!! So basically all these issues Armand is having and all this grief and stress and resentment is being left unsaid, and therefore unresolved. A couple can nottt get over an issue they aren’t talking about.

I imagine Armand felt like daniels vampirism was a huge barrier blocking him from ever connecting with him as he did ever again. Which!! Obviously Daniel will notice that Armand is giving up on him, and old patterns begin to resurface. They don’t have the “Daniel wants to be a vampire but Armand doesn’t want to turn him” argument anymore, but they do have a tension that is being left both unresolved and not understood by either party. All they know is the spark is fading and there’s resentment and there’s pain. And that tension, with these crazies, results in big blow out yelling matches and crying and “I’m leaving u for good this time I mean it!!”

so in conclusion, what I think happened with Daniel and Armand after qotd is that combined with his preexisting issues and his vampirism inflicted overstimulation, Armand’s bitterness and his distance drives Daniel to a mental break, and after some fight or another he leaves night island and vows to never return. Daniel is in a very vulnerable mental state as an already mentally ill new vampire. Vampirism has a very overwhelming effect on some people where the change to sensory processing makes it hard for some vampires to function fully on their on because of how difficult it is for them to process information. And daniels got that. I feel like he could have possibly made it through well with a strong support system, open communication, and guidance on how to navigate this new life, but obviously he didn’t have that.

When Daniel was a human he’d do this often, leaving, but then he’d realize he couldn’t live without Armand and come back. But when Daniel is so out of his mind he gets distracted by a light bulb or smth, he doesn’t come back. Maybe he would have if he was in his right mind, but he’s lost it and there’s not the safety net of Armand’s mind gift to come and locate him. So Marius finds him, decides that Armand is too broken and immature to ever care for his own fledgling, and he takes him in. And I figure that Armand’s guilt becomes unbearable after this, and he internalizes the assumption that he isn’t fit to have his own functioning relationships bcus of his issues, and he gives up on Daniel completely. Of course until the pl trilogy when they r able to re connect!

so yeah!! That’s my interpretation, loved this ask thank u for letting me yap. I hope this was coherent lol. Thank u sm!

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter seventeen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | canon typical death, violence, mentions of self harm, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow is now a peacekeeper.

「��/ɴ:」 i wrote this at four am, please forgive me if it's not good, give me your feedback!! And uhm.. i am gonna pull an all nighter, coz if i sleep now i won't be able to wake up in time tmr, wish me luck!!

Beta read by 🩶 @nowitsmissing 🩶

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Coriolanus was on the train. He had nothing but mere minutes to pack his belongings and say goodbye to his life in the Capitol. Tigris was in tears. And he knew the hug he gave grandma’am would be the last he ever received from her. Peacekeepers have to serve for twenty years after all.

He was on his way to district twelve. Not once had you come to visit him. He would lie to himself if he said he thought you would be at the train station. He expected an explanation. He was ready to accept lies. But no one was waiting for him. He was all alone.

Snow has lost his previous blonde curls as all officers had to have a buzzcut. He also had been sprayed with extremely cold water before he was given the blue uniform of peacekeepers. Coriolanus had gone over a small handbook and he realized hierarchy is everything. There are ways to raise rank but what's the point of it all?

What's the point?

He will never be president.

The Snow name will fall.

He will never have you.

He should just end it all.

That's when the door to his train cabin opens. The person who enters is completely unsuspected. Sejanus Plinth. His… friend.

Sejanus sits before him. Coriolanus doesn't even greet him. He's shocked. He blurts out, “Before you came, I was thinking about the merits of suicide.”

Sejanus replied with a chuckle, “Don't give them the satisfaction, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nods. He won't. He will make it out somehow.

“Why are you here?”

“I volunteered,” Sejanus said proudly, “as a medic. I will make a real difference like you said I can.”

Coriolanus wants to roll his eyes but doesn't. He likes the company he has right now, it's better than nothing. He smiles, all nice and fake. “Of course, Sejanus. You'll also meet your songbird.”

Sejanus Plinth blushed, “That too.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Week.

Ma Plinth sends letters regularly to Sejanus. She also sends him various goods including pastries that Sejanus shares with him. He hates it. Coriolanus still finishes his share of the sweet as it's so rare to find in the districts.

They don't have a day off yet. Sejanus hasn't found Lucy Gray. He's worried. Coriolanus speaks false words to put the poor boy at ease. It works more often than not.

The training is hard but Coryo excels. He's noticed by several of the recruits. They're friendly. He doesn't reveal that he's from the Capitol, nor does Sejanus Plinth. The gifts from his Ma are kept a secret.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Month.

Coriolanus Snow trains more and more. He trains harder than everyone. Snow eats well. He has more muscles than he had in the academy. Coryo could beat several people in combat now. He had gained the respect of his peers.

He was angry.

That’s the only reason he trained so much. Because if he thinks too much, he won't be able to live. He checks his mail every day. He gets them weekly from Tigris. It doesn't say much except the fact they're doing well.

Coryo rarely writes her back.

He yelled at Sejanus today.

It's the first time he ever yelled at the boy. Sejanus looks like he is about to cry and Coriolanus doesn't know what to do.

Coriolanus Snow is mad at you. And you aren't here to take the burn.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month.

Coriolanus caves in. He writes. He writes and writes dozens of letters addressed to you. It's about the smallest thing. How heavy the gun was for him to carry in the beginning and how it is now. How the air is fresh in some parts of the district and horrible near the factories. How bright the sun is. How pretty the flowers are. He speaks about the culture he thought district people could never have. He speaks about the people who are… kind. Different than he thought so.

Coriolanus doesn't send them to you.

However, Sejanus Plinth does.

Sej is sure you'll reply.

You don't.

He stops writing the letters.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Second Week

He begs onto the paper. So much ink is wasted.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.

SAY SOMETHING BACK

He scrawls the words roughly onto the letter over and over again. Tears falling from his eyes and ruining the ink. It makes some of the words ineligible. He doesn't care. You'll get it.

You get him.

Out of all the people, why did you abandon him like this?

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Fourth Week

Snow doesn't get a reply. It doesn't matter.

Whatever healing his soulmate scar had gone through had reversed. It was the same ugly scar now. It didn't matter. Nothing does.

Sejanus says he's colder now. Angrier. He has a temper. Coriolanus doesn't care.

Sejanus Plinth forces Coryo to enjoy his day off. He drags him to The Hob, the bar in District Twelve. He sees Lucy Gray dancing and singing around. He meets with the Covey. He laughs for the first time in a while.

The same night he kisses someone. He doesn't remember who. He hates it. It felt like spiders crawling on his skin. He vomits outside of the bar. Sejanus is concerned. Coriolanus Snow quietly cries himself to sleep that night.

He doesn't touch his soulmate's scar for comfort anymore. He wishes he could cut all the skin off from his wrist where the mark was.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; First Week

When he comes back to the Capitol, he will. He will kill you. He will ruin you like you ruined him. The next time you meet Coriolanus Snow you aren't coming out alive.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; Fourth Week

Coryo can imagine his life here. With Sejanus and the Covey. Lucy Gray quickly becomes his friend (somewhat). Maude Ivory, her younger cousin, is sweet and considers Coryo like a brother figure.

It means a lot to him.

The music they play. The cabin in the woods. The cool lake is hidden in the forest. It's nice. A life worth having (he's lying to himself).

He hates the heat.

He misses the Capitol.

He misses you. Though he will never admit it.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; First Week.

Coryo finds out what the hanging tree is named after. It's a tree used for hanging the rebels. And some rebels were caught recently. Their names were called out by the captain. And they were sentenced to death.

Coriolanus had to stand up straight and keep a poker face as they were punished. A girl calls out the unfairness of it all. Pleads that they were doing nothing wrong. Snow wants to scoff. The rebels tried to escape, flee to the north, away from the safety that Panem offered. That's betrayal in Coriolanus' book.

The girl is taken away as a rebel as well.

As it should be.

Dumb district girl.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; Third Week.

A few officials have come from the Capitol to district twelve on a mission nobody knows anything about. Coryo hears rumors about it being about district thirteen and he's reminded of you. He doesn't pay much attention to it as they were just baseless rumors. District thirteen ceased to exist and his family had to face the consequences because of it.

Commander Hoff gathers every peacekeeper in the Nauen radio station. Hoff begins with a speech, “Today I call you here to let you know about the prestigious guests staying in District twelve for the time being. It is suffice to say that they expect the best from you as one of you will be assigned to be each of their bodyguard for their safety. They're from the Capitol, remember their lives matter more than yours. Do not let me down.”

Commander Hoff calls out names one by one and the peacekeeper is assigned to the person. He calls out your name. Coriolanus freezes, perhaps he heard wrong. He looks around onto the stage where the officials are and sees you for the first time in months.

Fuck. You're so beautiful.

He fists his hands. He bites the inside of his cheeks. It takes him everything not to descend into madness.

“...is assigned to Coriolanus Snow.”

You're under him now.

Good luck.

Next Part

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Why did Felix hide from LB and CN in S5?

My dear anon, I wish I could provide you with an explanation full of such profound wisdom and clarity that you would speak my name with reverence for years to come. Alas, I cannot because, when viewed as a complete whole, Felix's season five actions make absolutely no sense from any perspective other than, "Well, if he acted logically, then the season would be over in about five episode or, at the very least, Adrien would have learned the truth which would lead to an identity reveal and we can't have that!"

To explain, let's quickly go over the various assumptions one might have made as season five went on and why they all fall flat by the end of the season:

At the start of the season, Felix's hiding away made some sense if you assumed that he was hiding from his uncle. This was a logical assumption since Gabriel should have viewed Felix as a massive threat that must be eliminated. After all, Felix was clearly no fan of Gabriel's and Felix also knew everything one would need to know in order to bring about Gabriel's downfall. None of that actually panned out - Gabriel basically ignored the Felix issue for the entire season in favor of being the world's most obnoxious Adrigami shipper and Felix, well, we're about to get into that- but it was initially a valid assumption.

Continuing along the logical path from our ultimately erroneous fear-of-Gabriel assumption, one might think that a person who was terrified of Gabriel would go straight to Gabriel's enemies for protection. However there was an argument to be made that Felix feared Ladybug and Chat Noir's wrath just as much as he feared his uncle. This was also a fair assumption. Felix had just betrayed them plus, in those early episode, most of us assumed that Felix was going to refuse to make sentimonsters of his own, so he'd have no protection if Ladybug and Chat Noir immediately went on the attack. These assumptions all proved false in the end, but they were all reasonable when the season started.

Another initially valid assumption was the assumption that Felix's ego mania and self-serving world view meant that he only trusted himself to take down Gabriel. After all, past seasons had shown Felix to be clever, resourceful, and deeply devoted to his mother, so it made sense that he'd be working on some brilliant plan to bring his uncle's downfall and restore his aunt if only for love of his mother. You could even add an assumption he even wanted to keep everything quiet for sake of the family image or just a simple desire for personal privacy.

These assumptions and all of the others stopped holding water after Emotion. In that episode, Felix was shown to be fine making sentimonster, fine outing his own secret identity to the world, and fine confronting his uncle directly without a real plan for stopping him long term. The closest thing to a grand plan that we get in Emotion is Felix demanding Ladybug give him her miraculous:

Argos: Ladybug! Good. Now we just need to wait for Cat Noir and you'll both give me your Miraculous! Ladybug: (livid) So that's it then?! You're working for Monarch! You're the reason why I lost the other Miraculous in the first place! And why he took them!! You gave them to him without any regard for the consequences it might have with the people of Paris! Argos: True, except I work for no one.  I only helped Monarch cause it served my plans! I needed the Peacock Miraculous and today I need yours and Cat Noir's so I can make my wish!

But if this was his master plan, then why did he do the Red Moon thing? That took Gabriel by surprise, but it didn't knowingly do the same for Ladybug or Chat Noir. Without knowing their identities, there's no way for Felix to reliably find them during the Red Moon incident since he's snapping everyone he sees out of existence, making it somewhat likely that he'd accidentally snap the very people that he's looking for. You can't even go the snap-everyone-and-look-through-what-remains-to-find-the-miraculous route because he snaps the person and all of their accessories, too. Otherwise he could have snapped Gabriel and gotten all the miraculouses back in one go, then grabbed the Ladybug miraculous as a fun little bonus.

In other words, everything about the Red Moon plan was focused around making a big, flashy entrance for Agros and little else. It's not even focused on stopping Gabriel since Felix doesn't seem to have planned to snap everyone away long term or at least I think that's what's going on here?

Kagami: Happy? When there's no one left?? Adrien: How can I be happy without my friends, without my father, without the girl I love?! Argos: You really think I'm that evil? (goes to open the trash bin where he hid Marinette...) Ta-da! (...only to find it empty; Adrien and Kagami peek inside, too) Huh? That's weird. (snaps his fingers in hopes of bringing back Marinette) Huh?! I don't understand! (backs away from the trash bin) She should come back! (continues to snap his fingers) Something's wrong! I can usually bring back whoever I want, but it's like she's nowhere! Like she's completely gone! (apologetically) I'm sorry, Adrien! Kagami: Sorry? You're sorry?!?! Adrien: You're not even in control of your own power! Don't you realize what you've done? Bring everyone back! NOW!!! Argos: Okay, okay, alright. I never meant to hurt you two...

Well that was anticlimactic....

Note how Felix doesn't take this opportunity to explain the danger his fellow sentimonsters are in before bringing back the people holding their remote controls? And what about his mother? Did he snap away his mother, too? And did he initially plan to perma snap everyone or not? If not, then what was the goal here?

This episode is confusing and could even be argued as a single, giant plot hole because it reads like a mental breakdown episode, but it's also a meticulously planned attack that was hinted at all the way back in Multiplication. So which was it? What was the master plan here? What's going on? Did the writers seriously do all that Felix stuff back in season four without fully thinking through how to make that work in season five?

After the mess that is Emotion, Felix basically gives up on whatever he was supposedly doing in Emotion. There's no master plan to stop Gabriel or make the world-changing wish or anything interesting. Instead, Felix is just there to be Kagami's Adrien replacement. Much like Adrien, Felix has no motive beyond "date the pretty girl and do whatever she asks of me." I guess it's a family trait.

One would think that this would lead to Felix making some interesting new plan to stop Tomoe or even joining forces with Ladybug and Chat Noir since he knows that Tomoe is in on whatever Gabriel is doing (Kagami wouldn't exist otherwise), but that's not what happens. We don't even get Felix going full senti's only because Adrien is left in the dark, a fact that doesn't seem to bother Felix or Kagami. They're too busy being in love to actually do anything to back the nonsense claim that they care about Adrien, but it's hard to blame them when it is so glaringly not their fault.

Letting these two have the sort of active role that would make sense for their characters would ruin the story the writers are trying to tell. We'd probably never get that whole "girl power" Bug Noire thing the show wanted to end the season with because Gabriel would have been stopped way sooner. It would also mean that Adrien knows things and the show can't allow that to happen even if it makes everyone involved look like massive tools. Let this be a reminder to you that you have to let your characters shape the path your story takes. If a character knowing X ruins plot Y, then you can't have both.

In summary, Felix's actions initially made some sense depending on your point of view, but as soon as he became a real part of season five, his character stopped making any sense. The reason for this seems obvious to me: you cannot write Felix logically while also actively including him in the show, keeping Adrien in the dark, keeping Gabriel a threat, and keeping Felix from flat out winning because the peacock is so ridiculously over powered. They wrote themselves into a corner and dumbed Felix down to get around the fact the same way Alya got dumbed down to make the Lila stuff work and Nathalie got dumbed down to make Gabriel's plot work. These writers aren't consistent at writing things like lore or characters, but they are incredibly consistent at the type of bad writing they have to fall back on. Expect to see more of these issues in the future.

[saneandrocking]

Dead Stanley AU

Au where Stanley tragically passes away in his early twenties before becoming a criminal. Overwhelmed by grief, Stanford makes a deal with Bill to bring him back to life or alter his timeline. This leads to a conversation between the alternate universe Ford and our original universe Ford in a different dimension.

Alternative Stanford: So, how did you ended up here, another me?

Our Stanford: Bill.

Alternative Stanford: God dammnit with this fucking isosceles.

Our Stanford: He feels like a equilater, if that makes any sense, that one-eyed freak plane figure.

Alternative Stanford: All of this because I missed my brother, how could all of my versions be so naive when it comes to Bill?

Our Stanford: You mean Stanley? That deadbeat…what is there to miss? Selfish prick is the sole reason I'm here.

Alternative Stanford: Why do you mean by that? How can Stanley be the reason you made a deal with Bill if not by trying to get him back?

Our Stanford: I asked for help when my assistant gave up and this bastard just made me fall into the portal. Why would I want to get him back? Back from what?

Alternative Stanford: Oh. Wow. You're the first me that I've met that still has Stan. That's…nice.

Our Stanford: Can you just be clear? Do I have a version of me that is slow, is that what's happening?

Alternative Stanford: God, you…I can be arrogant. Stan was right.

Our Stanford: Real clever of you.

Alternative Stanford: My Stan is dead. He died a little while before dad tossed him out of home, he was assaulted by a robber when he was sleeping in his car while I was already away in colege. He was found dead with a false ID, which caused a delay to recognize him and contact his family. Mom was the one who told me about it.

Our Stanford: ….

Alternative Stanford: The last time I saw my brother was in a photo in his own funeral. I was trying to bring him back from the past since then.

Our Stanford: I-

Alternative Stanford: I guess your Stan must be very different from mine. I wish that we have never had that fight.

Our Stanford: Uh. Yes. I think we're talking about different outcomes, really.

[qiu-yan]

there is no such thing as a singular "true nature"

recently saw a (or rather, yet another) post dunking on jiang cheng for blaming wei wuxian and trying to strangle him after the fall of lotus pier. which is fair, because that honestly was rather terrible of him.

however, one specific aside in that post stood out to me:

as i saw in the post i'm now being a hater about, antis have the tendency of boiling down an entire character to just their worst moments. but the section i highlighted above interests me precisely because i think it sheds light on what logical fallacy causes the anti tendency towards this boiling-down.

one common thread i've seen across antis of all sorts of characters - whether the characters they're bashing be jiang cheng, jin guangyao, su minshan, or wei wuxian himself - is this idea of a singular "true nature." the idea is that people have a "true nature," which is typically hidden by polite manners and civilized society, but may then be exposed during moments of stress in which those manners are stripped away.

the implied corollary to this idea of a singular "true nature" that is only revealed on occasion, then, is the existence of "false natures": if the self that is exposed during moments of high duress is one's "true nature," then the self that is seen during moments of normalcy is not one's "true nature." one's "true nature" is determined from solely these moments of high duress; the "nature" implied by one's actions during all other times does not count. if we follow this framework, then the you who goes apeshit after a bad day is closer to your "true nature" than the you who has a normal day of fun with your friends; the you who goes apeshit after a bad day is more real than the you who has a normal day with friends; the you who goes apeshit after a bad day matters more in the cumulative assessment of your existence than the you on every other day of your life.

as you might expect, i don't agree with this worldview. i don't condone boiling an entire person down to their single most extreme moments, not only because it is uncharitable, but also because i don't accept this idea of a "true nature" to begin with. to make such sweeping statements about an individual's "true nature" is overly simplistic and reductive of the full complexity of humanity. furthermore, in order for the idea of [a true nature that is only revealed in moments of duress] to work, one must rank all of the actions and behaviors of an individual from least to most "true," as described above - but, in fact, everything an individual does makes up who they are.

there is no such thing as a singular "true nature." you are not some fundamental "true nature" hidden away under layers and layers of pretense. everything you do - not just the things you do in moments of duress - makes up your character. you are the sum of all of your actions, both mundane and extreme: the you who has a normal day with friends is very bit as true, as real, as the you who reacts in extreme ways in extreme circumstances.

jiang cheng is the person who blamed wei wuxian for the fall of lotus pier and tried to strangle him for it. jiang cheng is also the person who spent his childhood shielding wei wuxian from dogs. jiang cheng is also the person who loves jiang yanli and sincerely wishes for her happiness. jiang cheng is the person who repeatedly tried to warn wei wuxian from messing with lan wangji and who carried wei wuxian after he got beaten by the lan. jiang cheng is the person who feels his father loves wei wuxian more than him. jiang cheng is the person who failed to stand up for mianmian out of concern for his own sect. jiang cheng is the person who ran restlessly for seven days to rescue wei wuxian (and lan wangji) from the xuanwu's cave; jiang cheng is also the person who resented not being thanked for his hard work. jiang cheng is the person who spent 3 months tirelessly looking for wei wuxian. jiang cheng is the person who allowed wei wuxian to secede from yunmeng jiang without any support in order to keep yunmeng jiang safe. jiang cheng is the person who helped jiang yanli sneak into the burial mounds so that wei wuxian could see her wedding clothes. jiang cheng is the person who blamed wei wuxian for jiang yanli's death. jiang cheng is the person who led the first siege of the burial mounds. jiang cheng is not the person who killed wei wuxian.

jiang cheng is the person who blamed wei wuxian for the downfall of lotus pier and then tried to strangle wei wuxian for it. jiang cheng is also the person who, barely a few hours later, sacrificed his everything in order to save wei wuxian from the wens.

both of these statements are true. all of these statements are true. the fact that one of these statements is true does not stop any of the others from being equally true. the reason why i dislike this "true nature" framework so much is that it cherrypicks certain moments as unique truths at the cost of all others - it centers one specific moment as indicative of an individual's entire nature, and in doing so discards all other moments as mattering less. in favor of a singular, easily digestible statement (eg. "jiang cheng's true nature is one of selfishness"), it erases the full complexities and contradictions true to humanity.

it is erroneous to say that "jiang cheng trying to strangle wei wuxian indicates his true nature," because of all the other shit that jiang cheng did. it is ALSO erroneous to say that "jiang cheng sacrificing himself to save wei wuxian indicates his true nature," because of all the other fucking shit that jiang cheng did. the fact is that jiang cheng did both of those things and also a whole bunch of other shit, and we all just have to accept it.

what's funny here is that this same "true nature" thinking also gets applied to wei wuxian himself in-universe. to the general public in MDZS, wei wuxian is the guy who invented demonic cultivation, who created the weapon of mass destruction that was the yin tiger tally, who killed jin zixuan, who got jiang yanli killed, and who in a moment of extreme emotional distress killed over a thousand people at the nightless city pledge conference. in their discussions of wei wuxian, the public centers these specific acts as indicating wei wuxian's singular "true nature." everything else wei wuxian was - his inventiveness, his kindness, his selflessness, his playfulness, his genius - gets dismissed as "false natures" in comparison to the one "true nature."

but this isn't an accurate description of wei wuxian, because to take just wei wuxian's very worst moments and then make those moments his entire being is not fair. wei wuxian tortured countless wen cultivators during the sunshot campaign, wei wuxian killed jin zixuan and heavily injured jiang yanli before her death, wei wuxian killed over a thousand people at the nightless city pledge conference. wei wuxian also sacrificed his everything for jiang cheng, abandoned the easy way out in favor of protecting innocent people from suffering, and has repeatedly chosen to help others when he could have easily not done so. all of these statements are true. the fact that one of them is true does not prevent any of the others from being equally true. the wei wuxian who chose to help the wen remnants is every bit as real as the wei wuxian who killed over a thousand people at nightless city, and to take either of these moments and assert that it alone reveals a "true nature" while ignoring the other is to commit a logical fallacy.

tl;dr - people contain multitudes.

regarding what the op of the screenshot actually said: they are correct in that jiang cheng does display a repeated pattern of behavior in which he blames wei wuxian for his family's misfortunes and thus lashes out at wei wuxian. but the degree to which wei wuxian is actually blameless for this misfortune, i think, is much greyer than the op said.

[sarahisslytherin]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART III)

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n' angst! a/n: third part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II

You hung your coat up on the rack, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. You made your way into the parlor, lifting a hand to dab the sheen of sweat on your forehead. Your mother and father’s muffled voices could be heard from one of the rooms, but you had no time to eavesdrop.

You scurried up the stairs to your bedroom, anxious to read your letter, to hold it close as if holding your admirer’s hand. He (whoever he was) was your comfort, a safe place. You swung the bedroom door open and rushed to your bureau, your eyes widening in disbelief. It was gone. You searched through the drawers, beneath your pillow, in the pockets of your coats, but it was nowhere to be found. But it wasn't until you heard your mother's displeased call for you downstairs that your heart sank entirely.

You fled down the stairs to meet her. There she stood, fire in her eyes and your letter crumpled in her fist. “Tell me, what is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

“I, I-”

“I tire of begging that you see suitors, that you find a suitable gentleman to marry. But no! You’d much rather waste your youth away on meaningless words scribbled across a parchment!” she cried. “Well, I’ll have you know that this nonsense will go on no longer!”

“Mama, please!” you begged, tears now streaming down your crimson cheeks.

“I won’t hear it, young lady! You will forget about this mystery man who delivers only false promises and pretty prose. You will go to the Bridgerton ball tomorrow night and you will dance with whichever gentleman will have you!” she yelled, and with that, she tore the letter in half before letting it fall to the floor. It was as if you had felt the tear straight down the middle of your heart, and you sank to your knees by the foot of the staircase.

After a moment, you both caught your breaths. Your mother placed a shaky hand upon your head and spoke with a more empathetic tone now. “I only wish the best for you, you must know that. You deserve a good man, something real and tangible that will give you peace of mind and a worriless life.” You nodded. You understood, but you couldn’t bear the thought of a life without love. It pained you so to envision one for yourself. “Breathe, child.” she cooed.

Your father’s voice boomed from the far end of the hall, calling for your mother. She gave the crown of your head a chaste kiss and ran off to your father. You were still on the floor, a creamy white pristine as your future if you could find someone to court you tomorrow night. Pristine and so incredibly dull.

You wiped the remainders of your tears away, your cheeks sticky from where they had poured like two waterfalls. How would you go on without your letters? Without the breathing, living proof that true love did exist. But your mother was right. It wasn’t proof. It was an illusion, a trick of the light; pretty prose and nothing more. You knew this, yet you couldn’t help collecting the two large scraps of parchment by you on the floor. You held them up, pieced them together.

My Dearest, 

I wish I could find the words to express just how much I wish to be with you. I wish mine to be the last face you see before bed and the first you see in the morning when you arise. When I see you, a fire burns deep within me. A desire to reach out, stroke your cheek, to scream “‘Tis I who sends you these letters! ‘Tis I the fool who does not dare approach you!” Well, I’m done with that. Truly, I am. This is my last letter to you. I will not torment you any longer. I will be there, at the Bridgerton Ball. I will find you and reveal myself. If my feelings are unrequited, worry not, darling. One word from you and I shall leave you be. But, if the opposite is true, I would be the happiest man alive. Until then, my love.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd

[writingsofwesteros]

Is it ok to request a lil something? You can take as long as you want. I was just wondering. Imagine…. An AU where Aegon and his wife didn’t have children yet. For whatever reason.

So when Daemon said “a son for a son” he meant she would have his instead of Aegon’s. Imagine how the poor lady felt, being taken by Daemon. Then shamefully watching her body change. Knowing it can’t be her husband’s

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

It was a miracle, they said. The Lords and Ladies of Court as well as the members of the small council; including her good mother. None were more surprised than her husband. “Thank you.” Aegon had whispered as she broke the news before falling to his knees; a kiss was placed on her stomach but all she could think about was the moon before.

FLASHBACK

A larger, rougher hand fell on those soft lips of hers. The act broke her from the sleep that she had finally found after so many nights awake and frightened of the war breaking out around them. It did not help that Aegon had no time to gift her comfort; if he ever did at all. Her mind was flooded with panic as her eyes flashed open - a part of her had hoped it was her husband on top; returned from the brothels. The darkness engulfed the room; the candles had slowly died down as she had rested and left her helpless. “Shh, pretty Queen, stop - before you hurt yourself.” A sharp gasp was muffled by his hand as she realised who the man on top of her was. Daemon. A dark chuckle echoed in her ear as the rogue Prince realised she recognized him. 

“Unfortunately, we do not have much time.” He whispered before his free hand was roughly travelling south. Still, she wiggled; an urge to fight overwhelming her but Daemon was strong. His weight was completely on her and she struggled to even breathe. “Oh you are feisty. Such a waste for you to be with my nephew.” “Such a waste he has not bred you yet,” Daemon purred and her sweet eyes could only widen at his words. “Oh, he has done, has he?” The rogue Prince darkly chuckled as he read the expression below him. His words only caused her to be more distracted as she cried out when his larger hand cupped her pretty, bare pussy.

“I do wish we had more time but I shall make it somewhat enjoyable.” Daemon purred; his hand reached for the cloth he had brought and she did not have a moment to realise the act before the gag was in place. His head turned towards the door; his own heart pounding in his ears as he groped her cunt again. This time ripping her dress and allowing those soft, ample breasts free. Breasts he had stared over the dinner table they last shared before his brother’s death. Fuck, he was hard, the Prince thought to himself as his fat cock was soon free from his breeches with his mushroom head already leaking. Not that she could see but her eyes widened once more at the feel of him brushed against her bare, inner thigh. 

His pre-cum spreading across her soft skin as she arched from the bed; muffled whimpers falling from her with ease. Her legs were pushed apart with ease as if her body had already given up the fight but she shook her head still. Daemon could only allow himself a moment to look over her body as his cock twitched at the mere sight. “Shh, there….fuck that’s it..” He whispered; gently tapping his fat head on her pretty clit and his dark chuckle returned as a gush of wetness flooded his length. “Oh, you are so sensitive, poor little Queen.” Her hands reached for his chest as if to push him away but Daemon only looked at her in amusement and desire that only grew darker.

Her body shook as his attention returned to her pretty, pink pussy that seemingly drooled for him and wanted to welcome him. “Your sweet body seems to know the real King.” Daemon purred; a dark smirk on his face as he bottomed inside her pretty, spasming pussy in one stroke. Her cry sounded out but he did not care now. No, blood and cheese kept guard as he bred the new false Queen. His hand reached for her sweet, bouncing breast as he roughly began to thrust. He could not be gentle nor slow; there was no time. It did not seem to matter as his length was covered with her wetness; the obscene sounds echoing in the room. “Such a fucking whore.” Daemon groaned and the sight of her tears had his desire running wild.

“Do you know why I am here?” He grunted; hips moving as he pushed deep. Her toes curled with each stroke as he perfectly hit her soft, spongy spot. All she could do was shake her head; sobbing whilst the pleasure she did not want rushed through her. It was nothing like she had experienced with her husband and the pounding had her forgetting the question. “It seems your husband is incapable of many things - breeding you being one of them.” He groaned; hand reaching for the headboard now as he pushed deeper. A ring of cream formed around his length as his free hand pressed against her stomach causing her to squeal. His thumb brushing against her clit; the ability to play her body so well had her in shock.

“My wife is owed a son..her son shall be King. My son shall be King.” He whispered into her ear before he soon resumed his fast, deep pace. Daemon gently pulled the gag from her and before her lips could part; he captured them. His tongue invades her mouth as she whines; drooling for him as her climax comes quick. Daemon only grunted; pushing deep and fast as she tightened around him. Her orgasm ripped through her with ease as she squirted. Gods, he was enjoying this more than he thought as he hiked her leg over his shoulder. The makeshift gag returned to her mouth as his cum flooded her with ease. “Fuck!” He had released quicker than he thought but it was for the best - if only they had more time. “I could come up with such threats, little mouse..but you don’t need them, do you?” He hummed; amusement dripping from his tone as he slowly removed himself. All she could do was stare wide eyed; hardly believing this had happened. Daemon groaned as he looked down at her bare body; cum dripping now. “Hmm, I may have to come again.” His warning was whispered into her ear as he gracefully stood and all her body could do was shake and reach for her gag. Daemon only had to raise his eyebrows for her arms to fall away. Her eyes were wet as she shakily moved to sit up; the robe a complete mess as he pulled his breeches up.

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it. 

Well, not until a few years later. 

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room. 

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted. 

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney. 

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for. 

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him. 

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!” 

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach. 

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away. 

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time. 

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman. 

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice. 

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago. 

Yes, this has been going on for that long. 

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.” 

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable. 

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for. 

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear. 

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see. 

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him. 

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you. 

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying. 

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” 

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop  his forehead. 

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?” 

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…” 

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle. 

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.” 

“Sidney…” 

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be. 

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course. 

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.” 

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?” 

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake. 

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—” 

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?” 

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.” 

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?” 

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.” 

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?” 

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?” 

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?” 

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney. 

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo. 

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you? 

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy. 

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest. 

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father. 

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.  

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons. 

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks. 

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one. 

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name. 

“Taylor.” 

She wastes no second, “Is it true?” 

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer. 

“Come in.” you say. 

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities. 

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies. 

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work. 

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen. 

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over. 

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it. 

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy. 

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand. 

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization. 

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer. 

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?” 

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time. 

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.” 

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him. 

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side. 

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.” 

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.” 

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke. 

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you? 

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it. 

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him. 

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?” 

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.” 

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.” 

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under? 

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed. 

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you. 

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name. 

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-” 

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.” 

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you. 

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left. 

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was. 

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season. 

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living. 

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college. 

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed. 

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter. 

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees. 

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t. 

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years. 

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell. 

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words. 

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket. 

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.” 

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home. 

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight. 

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with. 

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell. 

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five. 

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”. 

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand. 

“No, it’s all right.” you say. 

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched. 

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands. 

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.” 

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind. 

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered. 

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him. 

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel. 

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.” 

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?” 

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing. 

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?” 

He sees you nod. 

You give him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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note: patience patience patience. thank you all! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

[halucynator]

False Fronts II

part 2 of 4

pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

warnings: kissing, pda, swearing, fake dating, not proof read (as usual) and my writing

there will probably be a part 3 (if im feeling nice).

summary: Being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. You, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to Theodore Nott.

the lovely lovely dividers have been created by @cafekitsune. here is the post with these exact dividers!

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4: fluff angst

Theodore's departing silhouette dissolved into the Hogwarts corridor, leaving you with conflicting emotions. A grin tugged at your lips—Theo had asked you to team up in this wild charade! But there was also this weird flutter in your stomach. Fake dating Theo? This was something straight out of a fanfic plot. (i wonder why?)

The agreed time rolled around, and you headed to the spot Theodore suggested—a tucked-away alcove away from the Hogwarts chaos. Your heart raced a little faster as you spotted him already waiting, a mix of uncertainty and determination in his expression.

"Hey," you said, aiming for a casual tone despite the bundle of nerves inside.

Theodore turned, a faint smile on his lips as he nodded. "Hey, thanks for showing up."

There was this strange tension between you, the weight of the plan hanging in the air. It was like the beginning of an unknown adventure, the kind that either makes you or breaks you.

Sitting down, you both seemed at a loss for where to start.

"So," you ventured, breaking the silence, "how are we playing this out?"

Theodore leaned in, lowering his voice. "Let's keep it simple. Act like we're together, maybe hold hands when people are around. Just enough to sell it to Jess."

A jolt of nerves mixed with a weird kind of excitement surged within you. Pretending to be Theo's other half felt like stepping into a storybook—exciting but also a tad scary.

"Sure," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "We'll make it work."

Theodore nodded a grateful glint in his eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I owe you for this."

And so it began. There were these subtle gestures—his hand grazing yours, the occasional kiss on your cheek—but it never ventured beyond that. Just enough to plant a seed of jealousy in Jess.

Yet, it ignited a storm of butterflies within you. You knew it was all a mistake, falling for him in this make-believe charade. You knew it was a terrible idea. You knew it. Yet, each touch, each gentle kiss left you breathless, wanting more.

You reminded yourself it was all a facade, a performance meant to fool others. But for some reason, it felt real. You wished it were genuine. The line between what was fake and what you craved to be real blurred with every tender moment, making you yearn for something that was never meant to be. It all felt real. You wanted it to be real.

The question was, did he?

You knew diving into a conversation about his actual feelings wasn't on the table. He'd made it pretty clear: this was all part of the fake dating deal. Plus, the last thing you wanted was to weird him out by dropping the "Do you like me for real?" bomb.

If he caught wind of you wanting something more than acting, he might bail and rope someone else into this mess, leaving all the effort you'd poured into getting close to Theo in the dust. And you weren't about to let that happen.

Not now. Not ever.

Days turned into weeks, and the fake dating charade continued. You and Theodore fell into a rhythm, a seamless blend of staged affection and genuine camaraderie. It was a delicate dance, playing the part of an infatuated couple while maintaining the facade for Jess's benefit.

But amidst the pretense, something unexpected happened—the lines between what was feigned and what felt real started to blur. The stolen glances, the shared laughs, the moments when the act seemed to dissolve into something unscripted—all of it stirred a confusing mix of emotions within you.

Theodore's touches became less rehearsed, more natural, and each time he'd take your hand or wrap his arm around you, it felt oddly comforting. There was a warmth in his gestures that made them seem genuine.

Thing is, as much as you reminded yourself it was all a big show, there were moments when it felt too genuine, too sincere to be just an act. Those brief touches and the laughter that felt more genuine than staged—it all made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something brewing beyond the act you'd both signed up for.

Theodore escorted you towards your dorm, the air heavy with an unspoken tension that lingered between you two. The quiet stroll through the Hogwarts corridors felt different tonight—moments of comfortable silence interjected by furtive glances and lingering touches.

As the entrance to your dorm loomed closer, you felt the weight of an impending confession pressing against your chest. This might be the moment—the perfect opportunity to spill everything you'd been holding back.

"Theo, I have to tell you something" You blurted out.

"Hm?" He questioned.

"I- I lik-" You began.

"Stop right there bitch. Get the fuck away from MY boyfriend." a voice shouted.

It was Jess.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hello! finished reading this? read part 3 next!

[americanwh0rerstory]

Hi there beautiful!!

Can you do Evans character's reaction to their s/o wanting divorce/breakup?!

(like they were sitting in their bedroom until she walked in and told them she was tired of their relationship?!)

Love your work,

Real artist

the evan’s: breakup

contains: tate, kyle, james, kai,

Content warning: angst. a lot of it. murder, kai anderson is a warning himself.

A/N: tysm!!! im glad you like my works and i hope you like this one too. requests are open for anyone to send <3

Tate Langdon

“no. don’t do this, please Y/N”

would cry in front of you

if you’re a ghost he’ll follow you around the house begging for you to talk to him

he’s like a lovesick puppy.

you’re all he wants, all he needs

basically the same as the end of murder house + what we see in apocalypse towards violet

fratboy!KYLE SPENCER

“did i do something wrong?” he’d ask, wanting to know if he can change.

he just wants to make you happy

wouldn’t tell his frat brothers at first, not wanting them to hit on you now you was ‘available’

would cry silently in secret when alone

despite how sad he is, he’d wish you the best and want you to be happy.

JAMES PATRICK MARCH

“but why dearest? what have i done to fill you with such dread that you wish to leave me?”

he’d kill you without you knowing it was him, just so you’d have to stay at the cortez forever.

blames your murder on another ghost

would kill anyone who tries to date you

yet again blames it on another ghost

like the countess, you’d have dinner with him once a month

he’d give you lavish gifts he stole borrowed from his latest victims

he’d try and win you back with the gifts and the dinners

remember when queenie left with michael and he had to play solitaire? that’s the face he would make

that’s the face you’d get

KAI ANDERSON

no

you don’t get to leave him

did you seriously think you could break up with kai?

he’d initiate pinky power, find out why you tried to leave him, and use it to his advantage

he’d change for a week or two to lull you into a false sense of security

once you trust him again he’d instantly go back to his old ways

and you, the ever so trusting lamb, would fall for it. you love kai, right?

at least that’s what he’s lead you to think

A/N: i’ve never written this type of thing before so i hope it was good! if anyone wants more like this then feel free to ask

[bookofbonbon]

all a lie - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Abusive relationship. Death. Descriptions of dead person. Spoilers for TBOSBAS.

Summary: Your relationship with Coriolanus Snow was all a lie.

Word Count: 1k+.

A/N: Sad girl hours. I found the angst fic. I HAD TO THROW IN THE DESTIEL LINE HAHAH (please tell me if you catch it - it's very obvious lmao).

Your engagement to Coriolanus Snow was an arranged one. It was no secret. Everyone in Panem knew. History would report that it was a pre-arrangement between best friends and co-creators of The Hunger Games, Crassus Snow and Casca Highbottom.

Details would emerge how when Crassus Snow’s wife birthed a son and Casca Highbottom's wife a daughter, the pair of bestfriends wanted to join their families; intertwining two of Panem’s most influential families for an eternity.

Feature after feature of the upcoming wedding would be written and published; networks broadcasting far and wide for all to see. It was of course, a bonus that the couple were also in love.

The headlines would call it things like fate and true love, and the people of Panem would fall head over heels for it. 

It was all a lie of course. A lie conceived by Coriolanus Snow. The arrangement, the engagement, being in love. None of it was real.

“I chose her also because I hate her,” you’d overheard him one day. A long pause; the drawn out silence broken only by the sound of his haughty laughter. You could hear the smugness in his voice. “She’s perfect.” 

None would know that the arrangement itself was false but you were constantly reminded by those who were privy to the true nature of your relationship with him that you should be grateful. How lucky you were that the noble Coriolanus Snow would honour the wishes of his great father for you after the shame your own brought.

“You should be thanking me,” Coriolanus hissed, face close to yours and his grip tightening around your arm. “Your father damned you. If it weren’t for me, if I didn’t come up with this arrangement for you, you’d be nothing. I saved you. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

The hardest part was that you were starting to believe it too. Reality and make-believe blurring into one - it was becoming increasingly more difficult to discern what was real from what was not; unsure of right from left, up from down. Everything snatched away from you in a moment's notice and you should be grateful. Everyone in Panem is happy for you but, you.

But, Coriolanus lied about the engagement, he was probably lying about that too. 

Of course, it hadn’t always been this way. There was a time that existed when the two of you were friends, genuinely. Your father’s were friends, the very best and so were the two of you - you think.

In hindsight, you wondered if the downfall was inevitable, given the history; something broke down somewhere, your father’s weren’t particularly cordial in their later years. You had never thought that it would affect the two of you as well but, pinpointing when your own friendship with Coriolanus shifted into other was easy - the beginning of your mentorships for The 10th Annual Hunger Games and over the course of the next two months following that until it was dead… along with you father. 

You groan, loudly and keel forward. 

You press your free hand to your forehead but it doesn’t stop the barrage of images of your father’s lifeless body from coming to mind; slumped over his desk, nose bloody, face blue and a blank stare.

A journal would later be found amongst his belongings when Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus volunteered to clear out his things from the academy; a journal full of the ramblings of a mad, drug-addled man, that damned your father all to hell as a rebel. You were sure it wasn’t his - you couldn’t prove that it wasn’t. 

But one thing that you were certain of in all of that, was that there was only one common denominator - Coriolanus Snow. 

You try not to think about how his resentment for your father grew tenfold between reaping day and your father’s last, festering into something rotten. How this entire arrangement was likely revenge so, he would have you, Casca Highbottom’s daughter under his thumb and locked in his cage for the rest of your life to make up for the years of your father’s torment.

The newspapers would report The Revered Dean Casca Highbottom Succumbs to Morphling Addiction, despite the toxicology report finding traces of rat poison in his system; despite your father divulging that Lucy Gray used rat poison to win, smuggled in by Coriolanus Snow; despite you seeing Coriolanus Snow leaving your father’s classroom just moments before you found his body. 

“Snow lands on top.” you’d watch him taunt your father’s grave on the day your engagement was announced.

Coriolanus Snow was never really your friend.

You think you might be sick.

You remind yourself it’s all hearsay and speculation, the official reports read accidental overdose and you’d push that small voice that told you otherwise further and further into the darkest crevices of your mind because Coriolanus Snow saved you. 

“Darling,” Coriolanus calls, voice mechanical. 

You remain seated with your hand pressed to your forehead for a few seconds longer until it clicks - he’s talking to you. 

Hand sliding down your face, the band of your engagement ring is cool against your warm skin. Your elbow digs into your thigh as you rest your chin on your palm and look up at him  with what you hope appear to be sober eyes and as best of a smile as you could muster, given your current state. 

“The Vickers and Creeds are about to leave, we will see them out.” 

Not a question but a command as he holds his hand out stoically for you to take; eyes swimming with restrained rage - had they always been so cold? Perhaps or perhaps not - not that you particularly cared at the moment, you just wanted everyone to leave. 

If you could’ve, you yourself would’ve left the party a long time ago - a luxury unfortunately, not afforded to guests of honour. Not that you felt like a guest of honour. Quite frankly, nursing a migraine in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other whilst avoiding your guests for the duration of the night was not at all how you imagined your own engagement party to be but, that was exactly how it was.

There’s a familiar burning sensation in your nose, a prickling at the back of your eyes, the feeling of something stuck in your throat. 

You hiccup and something akin to concern flashes in Coriolanus’s eyes but it's gone as quickly as it came - you were probably imagining it.

“Put the glass of champagne down,” he tells you and you do.

You want to laugh- or maybe cry but, instead you take his hand, intertwine your fingers, hold his hand loosely and your jaw tightly and let him lead the way. 

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

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LETTERBOXD

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Grade A

11.   Turning Red 12.   The Menu 13.   Babylon 14.   Hit the Road 15.   Cow 16.   Watcher 17.   Funny Pages 18.   Mad God 19.   On the Count of Three 20.   Armageddon Time 21.   Terrifier 2 22.   Marcel the Shell with Shoes On 23.   Smile 24.   Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery 25.   Holy Spider 26.   Aftersun 27.   The Fabelmans 28.   Breaking 29.   Decision to Leave 30.   The Whale 31.   All Quiet on the Western Front 32.   Brian and Charles 33.   Piggy 34.   Saint Omer 35.   Thirteen Lives 36.   Men 37.   The Fallout 38.   Resurrection 39.   Causeway 40.  The Black Phone 41.   Official Competition 42.   Nope 43.  Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio 44.   Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood 45.   Till 46.   TÁR 47.   Happening 48.   A Love Song 49.   The Outfit 50.   The Innocents 51.   Jackass Forever 52.   BARDO, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths 53.   Montana Story 54.   Three Thousand Years of Longing 55.   You Won’t Be Alone 56.   The Sadness 57.   Halloween Ends 58.   Pearl 59.   X 60.   Vesper

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Grade B

61.   This Place Rules 62.   Fresh 63.   Windfall 64.   Kimi 65.   No Exit 66.   Top Gun: Maverick 67.   “Sr.” 68.   Farha 69.   The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 70.   Weird: The Al Yankovic Story 71.   Nitram 72.   Speak No Evil 73.   Run Sweetheart Run 74.   She Said 75.   White Noise 76.   Puss in Boots: The Last Wish 77.   V/H/S/99 78.   The Wonder 79.   Women Talking 80.   Hatching 81.   Soft & Quiet 82.   Scream 83.   To Leslie 84.   Hustle 85.   Chip ’n Dale: Rescue Rangers 86.   Dual 87.   God’s Country 88.   Emancipation 89.   Vengeance 90.   Fire of Love 91.   Bullet Train 92.   Incantation 93.   The Valet 94.   Hellraiser 95.   Christmas Bloody Christmas 96.   Significant Other 97.   Cha Cha Real Smooth 98.   Lucy and Desi 99.   Not Okay 100.   A Christmas Story Christmas 101.   Blonde 102.   Deadstream 103.   Sissy

Grade C

104.   The Bad Guys 105.   The Cursed 106.   Empire of Light 107.   A Man Called Otto 108.   Broker 109.   Black Panther: Wakanda Forever 110.   The Princess 111.   Beast 112.   After Yang 113.   RRR 114.   Fall 115.   Jackass 4.5 116.   Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe 117.   Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness 118.   Jennifer Lopez: Halftime 119.   Lightyear 120.   The Pale Blue Eye 121.   The Woman King 122.   Violent Night 123.   God’s Creatures 124.   Ambulance 125.   Elvis 126.   You Are Not My Mother 127.   Emily the Criminal 128.   Crimes of the Future 129.   The Apology 130.   The Lost City 131.   Wendell & Wild 132.   Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 133.   The Found Footage Phenomenon 134.   See How They Run 135.   Spiderhead 136.   Studio 666 137.   Bros 138.   Spin Me Round 139.   We’re All Going to the World’s Fair 140.   Paws of Fury: The Legend of Hank 141.   Honor Society

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142.   Thor: Love and Thunder 143.   Summering 144.   Strange World 145.   Glorious 146.   The Gray Man 147.   Devotion 148.   Clerks III 149.   The Forgiven 150.   Enola Holmes 2 151.   Father Stu 152.   Jurassic World Dominion 153.   DC League of Super-Pets 154.   She Will 155.   The Bob’s Burgers Movie 156.   Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody 157.   Hellbender 158.   Samaritan 159.   Day Shift 160.   Sonic the Hedgehog 2 161.   Prey for the Devil 162.   Troll 163.   Uncharted 164.  Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile 165.   Dashcam 166.   Firestarter 167.   Do Revenge 168.   Catwoman: Hunted 169.   The Munsters 170.   Amsterdam 171.   Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

Grade F

172.   Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris 173.   The Bubble 174.   Dead for a Dollar 175.   Jerry & Marge Go Large 176.   Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul. 177.   Infinite Storm 178.   Marry Me 179.   Don’t Worry Darling 180.   Spirited 181.   Disney's Pinocchio 182.   Alice 183.   Black Adam 184.   Orphan: First Kill 185.   The Adam Project 186.   The Invitation 187.   Texas Chainsaw Massacre 188.   Ticket to Paradise 189.   The 355 190.   Umma

Bottom 10

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