#The Pledge of an Older Sibling

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

My hot take is that some of you who live vicariously through fictional familial relationships yearn for "a healthy loving family" the same way a lonely person yearns for the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend/partner who will sweep them off their feet and dote on them and love them always and only focus on them and take care of them and protect them and provide for them and give them a fairytale wedding

And it shows

[grimitto]

Hello. I've never posted on tumblr before but I figured I would now.

I'm trying to get a full description of Messmer's backstory plotted out and after doing some research this is what I have so far (the briefest, simplest version.)

Messmer was born with a cursed ability, flame. Much like the frenzied flame that threatens to burn the Lands Between into pure chaos. Messmer was also born with an Abyssal Serpent (Base Serpent???) inside of him, although it can manifest on the outside. (???) The serpent consumes his flames and grows endlessly more powerful. Messmer's flame and the Abyssal Serpent were very powerful, drawing ire from his mother, Marika who despises any threat to her throne.

Messmer has always been family-oriented and enjoys the camaraderie between shared bonds. Brothers in arms or brothers in blood. Before his mother's crusade, Messmer spent his time with his younger siblings and friends, and likely trained alongside them from youth. Particularly Radahn is said to regard Messmer (and Gaius) as older brothers.

"Both were as elder brothers to the lion, and both were cursed from birth. In spite of, or perhaps because of this very reason, Gaius was both Messmer's friend and the leader of his men." - Remembrance of the Wild Boar Rider

The "lion" being Radahn.

Marika, fearing Messmer's powerful flame, wanted to test his loyalty by turning him into a symbol of her wrath. Marika has always hated those who embraced unnatural and grotesque traits, wings and horns specifically, so she embarked on a crusade to cleanse these people, the "hornsent," from the Lands Between. Messmer, eternally loyal to his mother, did so without qualms. The hornsent, and any who are considered enemies of Messmer's mother, Queen Marikia, will always be enemies of Messmer.

[Of the hornsent] "A vestige of the crucible of primordial life. Born partially of devolution, it was considered a signifier of the divine in ancient times, but is now increasingly disdained as an impurity as civilization has advanced." - The Crucible Scale Talisman

Although his armies knew this war would be far from honorable or heroic, Messmer's strong bonds with his men resulted in him having a large and loyal army for his crusade. They gave up riches, titles, and faced scorn for being loyal to Messmer.

"The warriors who fought in the crusade set aside both honor and mercy to wantonly impale and scorch those deemed impure." - The Crusade Insignia Talisman

"Each and every knight hailed from a renowned family of the Erdtree's upper echelons, but were shunned and chased from their homes after pledging allegiance to Messmer as their master." - Fire Knight helm

One warrior, who became known as Messmer's most loyal, was a princess of Carian, Rellana. She abandoned her nobility to follow Messmer. Her loyalty was influenced by romantic love that Messmer never returned.

The crusade was going well (as far as genocides go), but some of Messmer's men learned of his accursed flame and the Abyssal Serpent always growing stronger inside of him and—fearing Messmer was actually corrupt or would become so inevitably���rebelled and mutinied against Messmer in an attempt to kill him. Messmer dispelled them without any difficulty (they were banished to an underground tomb), but mourned the loss of his brothers-in-arms.

The surviving hornsent and many of the general population rightfully vilified Messmer for the crusade.

His mother, learning of this growing unrest, finally found a reason to get rid of Messmer, who was powerful enough to threaten her throne. She plucked out Messmer's eyes, and replaced only his right eye with a Seal of Grace, used to weaken the Abyssal Serpent and flames inside of Messmer. Marika then rescinded Messmer's Grace and banished him to a realm known as the "Shadow of the Erd Tree." Marika also banished any of those still loyal to Messmer, including Rellana.

Messmer, forever loyal to his mother, does not scorn her for abandoning him. Although he is bitter in exile, he blames himself and his flame, he hates the crimes he committed, resulting in a strong self-resentment. Messmer took all the blame of Marika's orders.

"On his mother's wishes, Messmer made himself a symbol of fear, undertaking the cleansing crusade she desired."

"Direct thy maledictions, thine ire, and thy grief towards me alone." - Messmer's armor

Also, I haven't seen the item descriptions to back this up, but apparently the Shadow of Erdtree realm is like the afterlife for the Lands Between and Marika has assigned Messmer to rule over it. That makes more sense than just banishing him, but I haven't seen the in-game sources.

Judging by his dialogue when Messmer meets the Tarnished, I believe the reason he attacks is solely out of loyalty to his mother. As he considers all Tarnished an enemy of Marika as they are "stripped of the grace of gold," AKA they are not guided by grace because Marika doesn't like them.

He also clearly harbors his own prejudice against Tarnished, as he then destroys the restraining eye his mother put in him saying, "I will not suffer a Lord devoid of light," which means he'll die to stop Tarnished becoming Elden Lord, even though Marika allegedly wants the Tarnished to become the Elden Lord, which is fairly common, but overall confusing...

---

Anyways, this is what I personally consider to be Messmer's backstory after looking around (Credits mainly to this reddit post) and trying to compile all the random bits into a story. If anyone knows other important details or thinks something here is wrong I'd love some feedback!

Grim out 💪

[forgettingcrowbin]

Some more dragons

To give more context to people! Yes this story sounds very silly but I was trying to make things work with the tons of headcanons I have lol

Geno (sky/ice), Fresh(rain/ice), and Error(night/ice) are all half-brothers (they share the same mother who is now dead) They live in the rainforest together between the Nightwing and Rainwing territories

Geno is sickly and often needs a scarf or blankets to make him feel warmer. He sustained injuries to an attack to the rainforest and Error found out he was an animus by wishing his brother to stay alive

Fresh is a very clever hybrid who can change the colors of his scales but not as well as full Rainwings. He tends to stay either bright colors mixed with his original white

Error learned he was an animus after an attack on the rainforest, he's best friends with Ink despite always getting mad at the happy-go-lucky rainwing (Error is cousins with Cross but that'll like never get brought up or found out by any of them)

Ink is just a regular Rainwing but is friends with the hybrids out of the village so people thing he's a little funky. He's an artist through and through and Error gives him a giant brush that makes his drawings come to life using his animus powers

Dream and Nightmare are both twin Nightwing/Sandwing princes (Nightmare got bullied too hard for being a "bastard prince" even though Dream is also one) Both are empaths and can feel other's emotions!

A massacre happens in the Sandwing Kingdom when the royal family (trying to stay pure) tries to kill Nightmare when Dream isn't around. Nightmare escapes, angry that his brother got better treatment than him, while killing many other dragons in the process

Blue is a royal Seawing guard in training even though his parents wanted him to be a cook and Red is a Skywing who is captive by the queen since he was experimented on by his father (scientist)

Reaper is an outcasted Nightwing due to accidentally killing people with just a touch (animus curse by xgaster) He uses it to his advantage with his Nightwing powers by being able to prophecy someone’s future or find parts of their past. He is known as this Reaper judge that gets sent for when giant disputes happen and the Queens of the tribes need to figure out who to punish. When he meets Geno, who is also animus touched to not die, Reaper is fascinated that he is able to touch Geno

The broad animus stuff is due to Xgaster (Nightwing who is part of a split tribe situation with eviler Nightwings lol) trying experiments on Nightwing eggs to make their dragonets stronger. I imagine its a group still like wanting to be better than every other tribe and resides in the old Nightwing palace

Cross is a Nightwing who is gonna stop his dad in the big storyline

MURDER TRIO! All of them are dragons that were outcasted and seen as incompetent or needed a home. They pledged their allegiance to the Sandwing prince Nightmare and promised to help him take the throne.

Dust is an animus prince in the Icewing tribe that went crazy after killing his siblings, he tends to be calm but becomes crazed easily and can kill easily with his powers (although he tends not to use them anyways and is just a very good fighter). He created a cloak to calm himself down and he tends to keep it over himself. He actually ran away because the judge (Reaper) was going to be sent to their tribe

Killer is a Rainwing that was captured and trained to fight in the now shut down Skywing arena. He was used as target practice for his changing scales and they even burned a target onto his chest so they'd always be able to see him even when his scales changed

Horror is a bigwings who watched all his sibs die during a famine in the Mud kingdom (due to drought). Older Mudwings tried to kill him for being a waste of space but he escaped and joined Nightmare.

[serena-babes]

So i have this idea about the knights of hell. There can’t be a king and princess without some royal protection. So how do you think the others will react to a Hell Knight Reader? Like reader is like a commander of a group of elite knights. And they came to check up on Charlie and Lucifer! To see if the king and princess are okay after the attack on the hotel.

Brownie points if reader doesn’t smile and are serious all the time! Reader is very dangerous they can and will kill to protect their king and future queen! No romance of course, just platonic relationships. Like Charlie can see reader as an older sibling.

Royal Knight Reader x Lucifer Morningstar + Charlie Morningstar

platonic!˙ᵕ˙✰

Gender neutral!

1.5k

omg! this is too cute! i really love the whole knight idea! ⋆｡°✩ i did some research on the whole knight system and its SUPER interesting!

might make another one shot of a knight reader with my own little twist･°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°.

✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺✧₊⁺

Ever Since Lucifer and Lilith's fall from grace, protection has always been a necessary resource. Y/ns has been there since the beginning pledging allegiance to both the king, queen, and the then young princess serving them for centuries. Y/n and the rest of the knightage fought to make sure to keep hell orderly, or as orderly as hell can get. 

Y/n was much more serious compared to their fellow knights being a Grand Cross comes with its different sets of responsibilities that in their mind “allow for no error.” due to their seemingly frigid exterior outsiders would think Y/n was only following the chivalry code nothing more. But, on the contrary, Y/n did truly care for Morningstars.

This is why Y/n's heart dropped hearing about the extermination coming earlier than expected, it was always busier during this time of year. The number of casualties just from the royal guard was always a hard gap to fill after the massacre was over. But at least, the Morning Stars were spared. This time, however? Y/n wasn't sure everyone was going to come back alive, a direct attack from heaven? Some of their most skilled knights have fallen to the hands of exorcists. How in hell would Charlie ever come out alive? 

But, Y/n takes orders, and Lucifer stops her from interfering. 

“I don't understand why you won't let me do this,” Y/n exclaimed curtly, brows pulled tightly together. The confusion was evident in their tone, their body rigid like a sword. A still silence blankets the room after no response. Y/n, Moving forward through Lucifer's study smoothly dodging various piles of ducks. Continued.

“I am loyal to this family, eternally. And the one chance I am needed…you, tell me to stay?.. Why? She is your daughter. Do you want her blood to spill across the pavement? Because that is what will happen if you let this continue.” Anger started to bubble to the surface as they pointed an accusatory finger at Lucifer.

The silenced followed them 

“You must let me go I have-” Y/n pleading began

“Stop, I order you to stop,” Lucifer said weakly, looking away unsure. It was obvious he was going through his own anxiety and turmoil due to the extermination and the safety of his daughter.

“She has to do this, you.” he looked to Y/n glassy-eyed

“Cannot face heaven” he continued “I don't think anyone here really can… Charlie can hold her own. I mean if anything this could I don't know, um.. steer her away from heaven!” he said, his charismatic exterior seemingly returning to his body.

“Yes…but what do we do if she cannot handle it.” y/n said quietly, mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Well, who better than me? King of hell! Eh! Eh!” lucifer exclaimed loudly elbowing y/n's rib cage

“This is not a time for humor,” she responded coldly. Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully.

“ Y/n I'm worried about her too, but this is something she needs to do. If I need to I will step in. You have enough to worry about with everybody else looking to you for guidance, have faith in her. So! I order you to stay here!…. Please.” Lucifer exclaimed albeit a little awkwardly since he was not used to giving many orders directly to Y/n's face

Y/n Sighed bending down to kneel “As you wish my king.” 

“Okay okay, you don't have to do all of that! I mean, come on! You're practically family.” Lucifer exclaimed in surprise. 

And so, Y/n trusting Lucifer they went back to their duties. Making preparations for extermination day preoccupied their mind most days. but silently anxiety seeped in. Truthfully, Y/n is terrified of losing Charlie and Lucifer they're the only family they've ever had. Even in life, Y/n wasn't close to anyone as much as they were with the MorningStars, which is why relief flooded Y/n's whole body hearing that both Charlie and Lucifer were safe in the end. After the hotel was rebuilt, they planned a visit to double-check. 

It was your average day at the hotel, Husk was busy cleaning the bar counter with a tattered rag as Angel Dust as well as Vaggie lounged on the couch. Angel, scrolled mindlessly through their phone while Vaggie worked on sharpening her spear. Charlie, of course, was planning new lesson plans with her father. Everything was calm. That was until three loud pounding knocks rumbled through the room.

Vaggie immediately jumped up in defense while everyone slowly turned towards the door, a menacing shadow shown through the glass. The only person who seemed excited was Charlie.

“Wait! Wait! This could be a new guest!” Charlie said excitedly jumping at the opportunity to greet the mysterious person at the door

“Okay everyone, let's remember to smile and introduce ourselves!” she smiled to everyone in the lobby, Alastor now entering the picture to observe.

Charlie swung the door wide open “Welcome to the hazbin hotel!- Y/n!!” 

Charlie embraced Y/n in a bone-crushing hug squealing and spinning both her and the reader around “I'm so excited to see you! It's been so long! Oh! Come and meet everyone!”

But just as Charlie was leading you over to the rest you spot a certain um. Eccentric! red demon

“Oh! What in the unholy hell is that..” y/n exclaimed obviously unsettled by the red demon 

Grimacing at the sight and leaning down Charlie 

“Charlie, I trust your judgment but what… what the HELL is that.” but just as y/n leaned up there he was.

“Alastor, Pleasure to be meeting you dear. Quite a pleasure indeed!” Alastor said enthusiastically jostling you around like a rag doll with his over-excited handshake.

“And who are you? The servant to the morning stars him?” he continued. Lucifer and y/n both make eye contact across the room silently agreeing about their mutual opinion of this “Radio Demon” as he likes to be called.

“More like, protector. What are you hm? The janitor? With that tattered suit, one might think you would be a stray animal who wandered in.” Y/n shot back with a frown and an unimpressed brow

“Alright! y/n! Let um let's meet everybody else! please..” Charlie said steering you away from Alastor you both looked as if you were about to be at each other throats if she didn't intervene 

“Everyone! This is y/n! They are a part of the…” she whispered over to Y/n “Is it the knightage..?”

“Yes, it's the knightage you're right.” y/n had responded quietly they were used to Charlie's struggle with certain words many nights they had to help Charlie with their spelling when she was younger.

“The Knightage! They work for me and Dad.” Everyone had gone silent at this news no one ever thought that they would be meeting the top of the food chain. Royal knights have been seen around hell usually around the time of the extermination, and almost everybody knew not to mess with them. Especially Y/n, just looking at them everyone would think they could snap someone in half without a second thought. Almost everybody there straightened their posture as Y/N's cold gaze flicked over everybody even Alastor tensed up slightly. 

“It's nice to meet everybody, Charlie is very enthusiastic about this hotel of hers, I'm glad it's made its reach to people,” Y/n responded professionally, Charlie looked over the cast of people in the room noting the uncomfortableness of everybody, She knew y/n was…Cold-looking, but she's never seen anyone react to just their presence in such a way. 

The silence lasted for what seemed like an eternity no one daring to speak up 

“So, are both your swords accurate about hitting certain deep spots, or just the one?” Angel spoke up flirtatiously everyone's heads snapping in the direction of the outburst

“What?! Just asking, geese.” replied angel

“My sword is made of iron it's manufactured to hit “deep spots” A knight does not possess two iron swords that would be .. redundant,” Y/n said calmly. Angel had side-eyed Husk when this was said triggering Husk to roll his eyes to mimic annoyance. 

“Speaking of weapons, Vaggie your spear needs to be sharpened. I suggest you sharpen it daily it'll really glide through people like butter if you do.” Y/n continued, they had met Vaggie prior to the hotel but only briefly as Charlie didn't come to the castle much anymore after Lilith left. 

“Oh! Um, thanks!” Vaggie replayed hurriedly intimidated by the tall stance Y/n possessed the heavy armor from neck to toe didn't help them look less menacing either

“By the way, thank you for protecting Charlie and everyone at the hotel.” y/n said slowly moving down to kneel “ I wasn't there myself due to my orders but I am glad to know Charlie is in good hands it brings peace of mind.” Y/n continues now fully kneeling 

Vaggie visibly flustered responded quickly “Oh! It was oh it was nothing really.” 

“Y/n?” Charlie interjected 

Y/n slowly rising to their feet, “Yes, Charlie?”

“How about you stay for dinner really.. Catch up!” Charlie said excitedly. Y/n glanced over to Lucifer who had two thumbs up. 

“Ah hell, why not.”

[ellieslittleburrow]

requested by : @skyhighwriter : Yeet what if Sam and Dean had a sibling who chose to leave to California with Sam for her music career. When Dean goes to get Sam he finds out she is playing a show soon. (Probably plays rock music similar to halestorm of the pretty reckless)

Warnings : Swearing, some family angst nothing big.

A/N : sorry you had to notify my dumbass for me to finally post it. i've been having this weird anxiety whenever i write something that pulls me miles back. Anyways, enough with the excuses-enjoy!

------

"Whoa, easy tiger."

Sam is pinned under his brother. Whom he just recognized-"Dean?" The oldest triumphantly sneers. 'You scared the crap out of me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

A few moves, and Dean finds himself pinned beneath Sam's clutch.

"Or not-" The older brother breathes a laugh. "Get off me."

Sam gets up and pulls Dean with him. "Dean, what the hell are you doing here?"

...

As the conversation went on, Dean found himself out of words, yet still not ready to speak of the main subject. Finally, he locks eyes with Sam.

'Where is...where is she?" Dean's eyes discreetly search for you but little does he know..

"she.." A nervous cough escapes Sam's throat- unfortunately for him, Dean recognizes it. "She's not here"

"Okay. " The older one nods. "Where is she then?"

Sam sighs and darts his eyes around. "Not here."

Dean rolls his eyes in response. "Okay smartass. Take me to her-come on." Before the future lawyer gets to objectify-he finds himself being nudged toward the door.

Not long after that...interaction, the car comes to a stop at a bar parking lot. And Dean's body stiffens. It's quite late. So his sister is either :

working here(bad)

Drinking her brain off(bad bad)

Working here(very bad)

All three of these send Dean into a very silent fury and Sam is quick to pick up on that. So he rests his hand on his brother's thigh.

"Don't worry Dean, it's none of what you think." The words might've sounded reassuring but Sam's voice stank of a mockery. Toned with the kind of lightness you'd use when reassuring a small child. And so Dean fully ignores it , leaving the car without a word.

As the bar doors swing behind him, he scans the room for that familiar figure he'd seen grow up. But it was nowhere to be found.

He spins around, searching for Sam. "W..Where is she?"

Sam's features soften when he notices the worry etched across Dean's face. "She'll...." Drums suddenly pierce the greenly lit space and Sam's head swings up. The hunter's eyes follow- locking onto the stage. There-There's that figure, that of his little sister.

------

Shoulders burdened by the sacrifice

O' the promises the boy and his father pledged.

But the others fought and fled. Just as the father lost his head

And the boy turned into a man, shoulders heavier as that was always the plan

And he alone he hunted, like a big dark wolf,

No vows, no voices, no one to run to.

----

Cheerfully applause fills the room as the instruments quiet down. You wipe the sweat off your cheeks as you glance around the room, your intestines tightening the more you look around. You saw someone-or you think you saw someone?

As you step off stage, you softly push through the crowd as they congratulate you until you find yourself face to face with Dean.

His face is as easy to read as a children's reading book. As emotions ripple through his face, his chest heaves. And so does yours-just when you think about it. A lump winds up at your throat and you come to a halt.

"Dean."

His name betrays you- It almost feel foreign as you haven't said it out loud in a while. Between you and poor Sam, it's usually him or he. Phrases like where is...he? And is...is he doing okay? are his only chances to exist in your world-or so you think- Always accompanied by that hesitant silence. But not this time-this tim-

Dean leaps forward and before your body gets to jerk back, you find yourself locked in his embrace. And for a moment, the silence over on your left ear sends warmth down your body-and it's almost like you're whole again, but the outside world quickly returns, causing you to push back against your brother's chest.

You're still angry at him. for what reason? not sure. Maybe because he stopped calling? Maybe because he's not supportive enough. Maybe it's simply because he gave up on you.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" You ask coldly. And Dean quickly responds with a retort, earning a disappointed head shake from you.

"I should be asking you the same question, kid, what are you doing here?"

You turn your back to the crowd and to the stage, raising your hand in defiance. "I'm where i belong, Dean. I'm where i want to be."

Your older brother scoffs and you exhale. My god is this man tired. And this conversation too, like we haven't had it a million t-

"This? You don't belong here, kid-"

"Oh i belong with you? In a fucked up world full of injustice and death, Dean? Is that where i belong?" You raise your voice, attempting to bore through the noise-and to yell at him-simply. "In nasty motels and no life?"

"You belong with us-hunting- making the world a better place- actually doing something useful-"

Your heart stings as you process his words-which he himself weighs-later than he should have-and before he continues, you tsk. "No no"

You shake your head again. "I'm not having this conversation-Not until you tell me why you're here- if it's to get me back-Dean- get out-" You violently point at the door. "Get out because it's not happenin-"

"That's not why i'm he-"

"You could've called-You could've texted, man." You cut him off. "You could've asked about how i was doing-what i was doing. But you were simply too much of a coward to reach out-"

"i had nobody-honey-i had no one left. Not you- not Sam- Not dad.You left me just as i let go of you." Dean leans in and you step back. "Do not put this on me, kid." He tilts his head menacingly and you squint your eyes at him in response. "You chose this over me. There was nothing for me to do about th-"

"So it's my fault?! Is that what-"

"THAT'S NOT-" As he's about to lose his temper, the man runs a hand through his hair. "That's not why I'm here." He lowers his voice. "Please-let's talk outside." Your brother holds his hand out, his eyes pleading but you cross your arms over your chest, looking for Sam's eyes-searching for an answer from him. He won't answer, though. He had held his head down the whole time, he wouldn't break that now.

Your cheeks puff as you blow a breath out, brushing past both of them and heading for the door.

---

Outside, you sit down on the side walk and pull out a pack of cigarettes, taking one before pointing the pack at Dean, motioning for him to make himself comfortable. Instead, he narrows his eyes at you and glares in a disdainful manner.

"Oh and you smoke too?" His voice is not so bitter but- you want to be-

"I don't recall you participating in the birth of me, Dean. You might've raised me but you sure are not my dad, so back off."

Dean purses his lips before taking a leap towards you. "That's not what i meant-dumbass." Towering over you, he pinches at the cigarette resting in between your lips. "These are not good for your vocal chords." He snatches it and tosses it to the ground and your mouth falls open. Pure disbelief!

"Oh so now you're worried for them? but earlier-" Anger resurges and you get off the cemented floor. "You said they weren't useful."

"I-" Dean starts but quickly subdues, bringing his arms down to his hips. "I didn't mean what i said, okay?"

You falter, calming down before you're even conscious of it. And something itches at you-curiosity, causing you to stare at the man-hopeful and impatient.

"I didn't mean what i said-I....I like..." He hesitates. "I like that i can very easily notice my influence on your music taste. I mean those solos and that makeup and those lyrics." Dean snorts a laugh. "That's totally me."

A tiny chuckle leaves your lips. Though the answer is not the one you wanted, it is one you expected. You glance around, away from Dean.

"I don't have..much time left before my next song, so...." You swing your foot unattentively, shifting in place. You feel Dean straighten up.

"Are you happy here?"

The question sends a shiver up your spine and for some reason, your stomach tightens again. Because yes. yes you are. But before you get to answer that. Dean speaks.

"Of course you are-what a silly question." He mumbles and you sigh, guilt suddenly creeping in.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"No..No-of course not-I just-" He chuckles, though it sounds sad. "I...I actually don't know what to say, kid."

"Maybe be happy for me?" The words are barely audible as you're too hesitant, eyes still avoidant.

"I am-I really am. I just-I just don't understand why you left-" Dean takes a step closer to you.

"Dean-i'm actually-i matter here-"

"But you also matter when you hunt, kid-"

You finally snap-gently-firmly grabbing his arms. "But you don't need to hunt to make the world a better place." You finally find the courage to meet his eyes. And the frown shaping his forehead makes your heart ache but you continue- "As silly as this may sound to you-i too am making a change in the world-You know what- a week ago I met a little girl who told me my music saved her-Dean-do you realize how amazing that sounds?" Your words come out faster and faster. "I am doing something-I didn't leave just for the music and the crowds. I left because i knew that i belonged elsewhere-I belong somewhere on a stage- with a mic a few inches away from my lips-I-"

As Dean lowers his head to the ground and nods, a sense of sinking-doom settles within you. And you find yourself taking a step back, unable to hold the whimpers in.

"So this is it, huh?"

You step back even further as tears gather at your eyes. "It..It doesn't necessarily have to be?!"

One more try.

"Why can't i have both of you?! The music and you? Why is that so hard to accept, huh?"

You walk back to the door, swallowing the lump in your throat. "You know what-If you still can't have that-leave right now-Dean and i mean it-do not come anywhere near this door." A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. "But if there's a chance for us to be a family again, stay. This place holds many more secrets than you think. You never know what you might find here."

----

Hurrying inside and over to the stage, you blast a forced smile as applause fills the room again. You'd look at the far back b-you can't-you can't-the reality of the situation is too harsh-it would break you. But as the song begins and the instruments pound your eardrums, a familiar silhouette you've grown up seeing keeps stepping closer and closer to the stage, to you. And just as the lights flash white-

Your eyes are met with your brother's.

-----

so so so so sorry for that delay, again 👀 i am my worst enemy when it comes to writing. Alsooooo, I wrote that little stupid verse hehe I love being extra. Please let me know if yall enjoyed this and see you next tiime! 🌹🌹🌹🖤🖤🖤

[twst-hottest-takes]

I might have missed somethings while writing this hot take.

Hot take: Sebek should like humans.

I find it weird Sebek hates humans, not just because he's half human half fae. I find it weird because this man grew up with a human father, a human loving mother, two older siblings, and it's even told in some events that Silver and Sebek grew up together.

And I would understand if Sebek didn't like human culture, or if he didn't like humans who couldn't use magic. BUT THIS GUY REALLY HATES EVERY HUMAN. And I get it Lilia pulled out the "He grew up with a grandpa who didn't like humans." But I just don't really understand it. Not only because of his family either. I don't get it because he's been away from Briar Valley before, he's been around humans (and presumably beastmen) as a child. So I really don't understand how his speciest grandpa had such an influence on him.

I also don't really understand why Malleus holds such a different opinion from Sebek. I mean the human and fae war kind of caused his mom to die. And while I don't know THAT much about Malleus's grandma, I feel like she wouldn't really like humans, considering Sebek's grandpa is arguably younger than Malleus's grandma.

And while I do know Malleus was mainly raised by Lilia, is royalty, and did have Silver in his life. Sebek knew Lilia from a young age, and knew Silver as well! If the kingdom is willing to accept a prince who likes humans, shouldn't the royal guards be required to like humans?

I do question how much time he spends with Grandpa Zigvolt.

Now, I don't collect Sebek cards or read every character vignette, but I am under the impression that Sebek just spends a lot more time with his grandfather than his older siblings. However, I don't think that answers the questions here. How much influence does that man have? How much of it is from holding grudges and has any of it been watered down after his daughter married a human? I feel like there has to be some other factor to Sebek's past that contributes to his current bigotry and overall Malleus simpery. Was he made fun of or ostracized for being half human when he was younger? Was he made fun of or ostracized for being half fae? As anon pointed out, you'd think he'd have much more going towards him being more favorable to humans.

Now this conversation has struck an idea in me and we'll see if it makes sense or explains anything:

Hypothetically: Sebek loves Malleus. Sebek wants to be close to Malleus. Sebek pledges his life into servitude to Malleus. Sebek goes to closed-minded grandpa to learn how best to be a royal guard. Sebek also learns from Lilia, but Lilia's influence is much subtler in terms of ideology whereas Baur is very passionate and vocal about his feelings concerning the inferiority of humans (while somehow not badmouthing his family?). Sebek is also very passionate and vocal and latches onto Baur's words and takes them very much to heart. Sebek, being a stupid teenager, refuses to see any nuance or notice any holes in the way grandpa speaks or treats his daughter's family and instead just spouts off a firm belief that humans are trash compared to fae. Sebek essentially took what he liked about what grandpa said and made it a much bigger part of his personality and mindset than was maybe intended and now he's an obnoxious loudmouth with incerdibly transparent bigotry.

Tl;dr: Sebek is a teenager who thinks he knows everything about something he's passionate about and had just enough influence from home to make him think he's absolutely correct and currently has little to know wiggle room in terms of his current harmful outlook. His personality might also predispose him to being very proud and stubborn on certain viewpoints once he has committed to them (most people usually have at least one thing in their lives like this. I hope the train of thought makes sense.).

The good news is, it's obviously a setup for character development. I believe he's supposed to be very immature and he'll grow out of it when he learns a bit more about things like empathy and understanding.

As for the comparison to Malleus, I think this post is long enough for now and that's something that could be discussed in a later post. Suffice it to say, it also got me thinking.

~I am sorry if I got lost in the weeds there! Thank you for the take.

(Also, in regards to the guards being required to like humans as a reflection of their prince, the answer is "No." They may be commanded to not harm or antagonize humans, but I doubt there's much in the way of rules thay say, "Human-haters can't be in the army.")

(Also, also, I am so sorry this took so long to respond to! I honestly sat on my hands too long wondering what picture to feature along with this post. *facepalm*)

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part six)🌹

Part Five🌹

PLEASE READ WARNINGS FOR THIS PART! If any section makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and stop reading. The beginning is especially dark so please feel free to skip ahead to the first line break:

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Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) Witnessed death and accidental suicide. Insanity suspected and potrayed. characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

The flowers just seemed to keep on coming. And coming. And coming.

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Of all of the Capitals wealth, the flowers were only the deep color of blood.

It disgusted you.

But that's what it all looked like to your tear covered eyes. Your vision has been blurry since yesterday morning. Since the cold metal of the golden necklace hit your neck.

Reflecting the cold body of your mother.

The funeral feels as if it going on too slow yet too fast. The fake pledges of sorrow and shows of mourning were suffocating you. But saying goodbye is coming too soon. You've had months to say goodbye and yet you chose to run away, your consciousness hissed at you.

The necklace on your neck felt heavy as you picked up the two dangling rings. Those same rings have always brought a sense of comfort and nostalgia as they were a tell tale sign of your mother. You've seen them a million times but never noticed them.

One was a deep gold with vine engravings covering the entirety of the surface. In the middle was a beautiful light green colored stone that seemed to have endless mirroring panels that shone in the light. On the inside there was a small phrase: "To love, alive and ever lasting. "

The engraved words of commitment seemed to have brought new warm and silent tears streaming across your face. The ring must have been your mother's wedding ring as that was your father's declaration to always love her in his wedding vows.

Of course, you only know this because of the countless nights he stayed up watching her withering form. He kept on re-telling her his vows, remembering every word every time.

She never said a word back.

The other ring seemed far older due to the more dusty look of the gold surface. There were engravings of a family crest, symbolizing the Emberidges. Your mother's maiden name and what used to be one of the longest standing powerful families in all of Panem.

While the family blood lived on in you, the name was sacrificed as you took your father last name, the more recently powerful in comparison: Vaun.

You knew that your mother wasn't an only child but her funeral had no appearance of her siblings. Unlike your fathers dear sister who seemed to be in the act of consoling him in the moment and who has been a crucial pillar of care these past twenty eight hours.

No, any maternal aunts and uncles were butchered in the war. Your uncle Averic was deployed to District 12 and martyred in the dense woods. That day was a dark day for all of the Capital. Not only did the head of House Emberidge fall, leaving no children, but so did the head of House Snow, leaving behind only eight-year-old Coriolanus.

And of all the deaths that day, the one that crushed you the most, the heir of House Vaun. Your dear older brother. He was only fifteen when he reportedly butchered by the rebels. They did not deem him fit for a quick death.

While her brother and nephew fought across the nation, you aunt Fiora was behind in the freezing capital like most. She was the youngest of the siblings, only a mere twenty three years old.

When news came of Alerics death, she couldn't handle the suffocation she felt. And to all of the family's pleas to stay inside, she fled. It had been days of dread and being on the look out when you and sometimes Rhayen went searching for food. The coming day of finding her was a harshly rainy one.

You were once again scouring for something to eat when you had saw Clemensia doing the same. You both had shared a look of understanding in your sunken, tired eyes. Something that should have been beyond the years of two eight year olds.

You scoured for any viable sources of nutrition, jumping over and running around the countless dead bodies. Neither of you look at them too long. The sight horrifying for your young eyes and any in general. Clemensia noticed a few bags of moldy peaches and potatoes. You both nearly ran into the nearby wall in excitement. Splitting it evenly, you bid eachother goodbye and wished thr other to be safe. The streets of the crumbled capital were crawling with vultures and bandits who were more than willing to kill for any food. It could be the peaches and potatoes in your hands.

Or more grimly: your hands.

Those thoughts were intensified when you heared the crush of glass behind you.

Please no.

Please just let me get the food to my family.

You didn't have much of a choice but to run as fast as your little legs could take you. As soon as you picked up speed, so did the clearly heavier and older feer behind you. It was clear that you couldn't outrun them so you had to do what you were always warned of: run into the alleys.

You ran through murky puddles as the rain somehow intensified. The alley twisted and curved leading to who knows where. The feet behind you were not distancing themselves from you, motivating you as you began to naturally slow. You scanned the area for any stairs or holes or anything. Down the street, you found a shaky looking staircase. It was risky, but it was a better option than being someone else's meal.

Bags of food still in hand, you forced your tiny body to march the stairs, even taking two at a time.

As soon as you began stepping on the higher level stairs, the previous wooden step broke off and shattered on the ground on impact. That only made your feet go faster. The scream of the man behind you was heard. The same could be said for the sound of his body hitting the ground.

By the time the roof came into view, you were completely out of breath and collapsed onto the solid surface. You had only grasped your breath when you realized you weren't alone. You looked up to see an extremely dishevelled looking woman. Her hair was all knotted and looked as if it was ripped out in certain parts. She was pacing back and forth mubbiling incoherently.

You weren't sure what to do, absolutely horrified by her presence but you couldn't go down the way you came as the stairs were destroyed.

The roof was completely empty expect for a small unit of machinery. Rushing to hide, you didn't notice a few stones in your path. You fell head first but saved yourself with now scraped hands. However, the thud of your body alerted the frantic woman. She seemed feral to you but as her wild eyes searched you, she was no longer just a maniac.

She was your aunt Fiora.

"Cloria? Oh Cloria you are so young!" Her tear stained eyes ran over your figure and she quickly made her way to you, caressing your cheeks. This was the first instance of the now common occurance of your identity confused with your mother.

"Aunt Fi?" You asked wearily, using the nickname to possibly bring her back to reality. But all did was enrage her.

"Fi? FI? How dare you!" Her rage fueled her hand to hit you straight across the cheek. You face felt as if it was burning and tears began forming in your eyes. Your skin felt raw in the place of impact.

But Fiora was off in her own world. Her voice softend but not in realization of her actions. She drifted off into memory and nostalgia.

"Aleric was the one who made it up. Everyone called me that but he made me feel special. He always protected me you know!" Her voice began to crack and the anger came back to fill it. "I'm going to make them suffer. Every last one of them. I will burn their woods to the ground as each of them are tied to a tree for what they did. I swear it! You hear me!" Her impossibly loud declaration was told to the wind as she seemed to have forgotten your presence.

You took your chance to run to the hiding spot you intended. You grabbed the fallen bags and were nearly there when shrieks of insanity hit your ears. You turned to see your aunt clawing at her face while mumbling threats and death wishes.

Blood began pouring and an especially painful scream was heared as she cut her eye. But she didn't stop, the pain only seeming as more encouragement.

You could do nothing but watch the horror show.

You could do nothing as she got closer and closer to the ledge.

You could do nothing as she fell backwards over the edge.

You could do nothing as the sound of her body splattering echoed.

You could do nothing as you heard a group of men with swords ensuring themselves dinner.

Her screams kept on ringing in your ears as they began mixing in with the recent screams of your mother. They sounded so similar.

Is that how I will sound when I am about to die?

Any further thought was cut off by a hand on your arm. You look up to see who it belongs to when a pair of warm brown eyes filled with sympathy meet yours.

"The funeral is over y/n." He says it quietly in the now abandoned graveyard. What goes unsaid is now you have to officially say goodbye.

You look up to him, pleading for just a little more time. But you both know, you have to say goodbye eventually. You take a deep breath and slide your arm into Sejanus's as you walk over to the casket. You didn't know what to say as the words "goodbye" felt too heavy on your tongue.

Your finger brushed the fine wood untill your hand fully stopped on top of where you assumed her heart to be. You were speechless in sorrow and could do nothing but bend over and kiss the top of the casket, near her head. You gave one last look and turned to Sejanus. He gave you an understanding nod.

You both turned as he slide his arm around you for comfort. The walk to your car where a clearly broken Rhayen stood was silent. When you reached the door, Sejanus opened it for you.

"Are you sure you wouldn't feel more comfortable staying with us? Just for a few days?"

You shook your head in response. "I might stay with aunt Aeris with dad. But I don't want to abandon her home too." You said it heavily and he understood.

Sejanus always understood.

He gave you a small nod and weak smile as he gently closed the door. The closer you got to your home, the more gray the sky became.

How fitting.

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The silence of your penthouse was eerie. It seemed to strangle you with the lack of movement. The house felt cold and empty, void of all life. Rhayen had politely retreated to his quarters.

He had basically lost a daughter. There was no way you were going go ask him of any favors or demands. Not like you needed anything. There was plenty of food sent over by ma plinth. It smelled and looked wonderful but you weren't hungry. Your stomach was full with nausea.

You walked into the foyer, lit up by the open windows displaying the gray skies dimming the Capital. The stone was cold beneath your feet as you surveyed the darkly decorated room. It seemed that in that empty moment, every ounce of emotion rushed through your system. All you could remember was crumbling to the floor in anguish. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, but by the time you had been interrupted with a knock on the door, the windows showed a night sky. You assumed it was Sejanus or his ma checking in on you, so you just quickly wiped your face and blew your nose and not taking a real moment to clean your appearance.

Your feet took hurried steps to the door and opened it to see two tall blondes staring back at you. Tigris and Coriolanus are definitely not your expected guests.

Tirgis took one look at your state and leaned over into your space to give you a comforting and genuine hug. You were slightly suprised but readily returned it. You felt protected in her hug, a feeling you've felt absent of lately.

She pulled back to look into your eyes and check over your face. You nodded in reassurance that you will be fine and shifted focus to her cousin. In his hands were stunning white roses.

"We know how hard today has been for you and we don't wish to stay long. We just wanted to give our sentiment and see if you needed anything." Coriolanus said in a tone of fright that he will make you uncomfortable.

You smiled, something that seemed to surprise you all. "Thank you both truly. Please come in!" You opened the door wider so they could follow you but they shared a look of discomfort.

"Y/N, thank you but we wished to just drop by quickly. We don't want to be a burden. You don't have to treat us with those guest pleasantries." Tigris contrasted.

"You said you wanted to help in any way you could correct?" The pair nod in agreement. "Well I think if I had some company would certainly help me right now. Being on my own doesn't seem to be the best option." You softly confessed. There was a shared look between the two before you grabbed Tigris's hand and dragged her in, Coriolanus following after.

Your three walked into your foyer that opened into your kitchen. You motioned for the two to get comfortable as you took the flowers out of the younger cousins hands. Taking a closer look, you realized that these pearly white flowers looked home grown. You laughed grimly.

"A bouquet of grandma'ams roses."

Tigris looked between the two of you, with a sad expression as she took in your deflated form and Coryo's clouded over eyes.

You turned to find a vase to put them in as the tall boy mumbled. You couldn't really make out what it was but Tigris heard him loud and clear.

"You weren't supposed to get them like this."

He shook his head in defeat as you began watering the precious roses, your back facing him.

You turned back around as you placed the case down in the center of the cabinet island.

"Please tell grandma'am thank you, it means a lot." Tigris smiled back in response with a promise to relay your gratitude. The sound of grumbling stomachs filled the now empty room and you jumped to action.

"Y/N please! Just sit down, we will be out of your hair in no time, please just rest!" Tigris was quick to intervene as you scurried around the kitchen, fixing the two a plate from the plentiful food Ma Plinth cooked up. You refused any sort of opposition and claimed that it would be a waste of such food.

Tigris turned around, expecting support from her younger cousin but was met with nothing but distracted eyes. He knew what you were doing.

If you stood still too long, you would begin thinking. Thinking would lead you to drowning in your sorrow. That's why you took any distraction and threw yourself in it. He knew it wasn't healthy and reality would hit you hard.

But maybe when it does, he will be there to help you back up.

For now, he looks at you with such emotion and rawness in his eyes as he thanked you.

You felt that he was the one who deserved thanks, letting you work out your emotion. Eventually, Tigris realized that she wasn't getting anywhere and surrendered to the delicious meal set in front of her. You placed a small amount of food for yourself to not make them feel awkward. However, much to your relief, your conversation was anything but.

The topics ranged from literature to the most recent capital gossip and everything in between. Who would have thought that on one of the worst days of your life you would be laughing so hard. You may have drowned yourself in guilt if you thought too hard on it but it was impossible with every quip and bicker between the three of you.

It was a few hours in when the sudden thought of Coriolanus's pen hit your mind.

"Oh Coryo, I completely forgot to give you back the pen I stole!"

That made Tigris laugh a bit more. You seemed so concerned for such a small matter. The boy who was supposedly "robbed" try to assure you that no harm was done but you refused.

"I'll be right back! Please feel free to grab anymore food and don't you dare be shy!" You demanded as you walked backwards and turned around when you hit the stairs, rushing up to your room.

The path to your room wasn't very far and as soon as you entered, you saw the shiny white and red pen on your desk. It had been a useful distraction yesterday in the painful drive back to your home infested with death and sorrow. You took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts and grabbed the pen.

You walked back out in a fast pace until you came to a sudden stop. You stood right infront of the doorway of your mother's old makeshift hospital.

Oh how quick the new becomes the old.

The room looked as if it had never even been touched. No cords, pillows, tissues, or mess anywhere. Clean, tidy, and no trace of a cold, decaying life. You weren't sure how long you stood brooding before the sound of glass shattering shook you out of your haze.

In a panic, you rushed down the stairs to be met with the screams of your enraged father. Rhayen was also there and seemed to try to calm him but he kept pushing the elderly man off of him.

"How dare you both! I know the Snows never had any shame but how dare you walk into my home after such a tragedy! Were my son and wife not enough for you?! What need do you have to take the last good thing in my life?!"

You could hear the rage clearly but the heartbreak in his voice was even more evident.

What broke your heart was the sight of Tigris, clearly holding back tears as she thought over all her actions to see what she did wrong. Your eyes shifted slightly to Coriolanus who no longer held the soft expression he showed around you and his cousin. He had his mask shifted back into place, simply taking the attack from the older man.

"Sir please! I know they meant no harm, they are friends of young y/n!" Rhayen's pleas did nothing more than shift your father's anger towards him.

"Friends? And you knew of this and yet did nothing?! You vowed to protect her and you let her associated with such monste-"

"STOP! They are nothing of the sort and simply came to check in on me! They care for me. Nothing but pure and good care and concern!"

You felt your emotion being held back but such a slim shield you put up to ensure as much authority and confidence in your voice.

Your sudden presence shocked your father as he tried to get you to go back up to your outright refusal. His patience had worn thin.

"Your mother is barely cold and you have brought shame upon her memory!"

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They weren't violent as you would have expected but silent and delicate. Your body felt nauseous and faint as if you had just been pounced on. The words cut your already shambled heart and formed little scars of pain.

With a deep breath, you looked past your so called father.

"Thank you Tigris and Coryo." You put and emphasis on the nickname as a message to your father. "I am so sorry, please make it home safely."

They both nodded solemnly and Rhayes began to show them the door before being violently pulled back by the man he was now employed under. Even after everything he said, your father still felt the need to show that the Snows were not even woth a servants time.

Tigris looked straight ahead as she walked past the hate filled man and a quick look at you, which you met with an apologetic smile. Coriolanus, however, met his eyes with no sign of emotion expect defiance. You knew how proud Coryo was of his family's name and it was one of the few possessions of his that he could flaunt.

And to have it so openly dragged was not going to be let down easily. You wondered if he would it against you.

But right before he would have vanished from your viewpoint, he looked back at you with those ever melting deep blue orbs. Even after all he endured, he wanted to check if you were okay.

Any possible communication you could have sent his way was cut off by your father moving in between the sight of you two. The blonde boy got the message and with a soft scoff, made his way out the tension filled apartment.

As soon as the door shut, your father turned his gaze to you. Noticing you were still crying, he softened. But you didn't care. You just shook your head and Rhayen's arms came over your shaking body in comfort. Even in the silence of the penthouse, it was hard to hear your paind and soft voice. But they were sharp enough to cut your father's fury.

"I miss mom.You made me realize just how much I miss her."

You didn't want to see his expression or hear any lecture so you made your way up to your room as fast as you could.

You broke away from Rhayen's embrace, leaving him to be in the uncomfortable presence of your father.

"I did the right thing Rhayen. History was repeating itself!" He tried to justify his actions towards the young heirs of Snow.

Rhayen walked past the disgruntled man to the kitchen where the shattered vase and flowers now lay.

When your father walked into your home looking for his daughter, he was met with two blonde heads who looked far too comfortable for his taste. Then the sight of the pristine white roses came into view and memories flooded his system and rage. He couldn't throw the vase against the marble fast enough.

Rhayen sighed, exhausted as he swept up the victims of anger. "You can't say history is repeating if it isn't the same story. Different story, Tyre."

The man in question wasn't convinced and kept on going, pacing back and forth on the other side of the mess.

"I thought she was with Sejanus. He is a good boy. She is safe with him. Why can't she be satisfied with safe? And his parents love y/n! They always rave about her, especially his mother. It even makes me feel jealous!" That made Rhayen scoff.

Oh Tyre sure was jealous but not of the Plinths.

The glass was nearly all cleaned up now, the long serving man was just taking extra measures as Tyre couldn't seem to stop ranting. He knew the man was struggling with the loss of his wife and taking it out on young y/n was just an unfortunate reaction to it.

"Do you know what Casca told me? The Snows are poor. Dirt poor Rhayen! And that peasant has the audacity to walk in here and act as if he is worth a second of my daughter's time! And did you see the way he looked at me! THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER- Hey! Throw those out! I don't want to see them for a second longer."

Your father declared his distaste to the flowers Rhayen had brushed off and ensured protection.

"I am sorry sir but they seem to be gifts to miss y/n. And if what you heard was true, such roses as these must have been quite expensive and precious, a luxury the Snows could not afford. Yet, the bouquet was gifted." Rhayen offered and began his trudge up the large stairs.

Tyre Vaun couldn't think of anything that would change the elder man's mind. However, at the top of the stairwell, Rhayen turned with one last message.

"The boy grew up without his father. And I think in this case, it was for the best."

Maybe in the case of the son of Crassus Snow, growing up without the cold father really was for the best.

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You stared up at your textured ceiling as you twirled Coryo's pen in your hand. You stopped thinking a while ago. You just let your mind be taken over the fog as your finger played with the odd texture of the pen. There was clearly something engraved but due to the white surface, you couldn't tell what.

Your little escape of peace from today's activities was interrupted by the knock and subsequent opening of your cream colored door. You turned your head and a relieved sigh was breathed between your lips. Rhayen walked in with one hand behind his back.

He opened the small light near your desk for some light in your dark room but not the overhead ones as to to not burn your eyes. The small action brought a small smile and warmth to your heart.

But that warmth spread all over as you saw what he was hiding behind his back. The beautiful roses of Coriolanus. You looked up at him with a look that you warm even the coldest of men.

He smiled at your joy. "I couldn't save the vase, but I think these are what matter." You take the roses in you hands as you just sat there astonished.

Even though they were flung across the room and smashed, they seemed even more beautiful than before. In the dim dark light, their little rips and dips just added to their radiance.

You were so engrossed with the roses that you didn't notice Rhayen leave your room, closing the door behind him. Getting up, you moved the bouquet to the vase that stood proudly in the middle of your vanity with the other white flowers Coryo picked for you on your walk.

It brought you a great amount of joy that the flowers that joined it were from the same charming boy.

When you walked back to your bed, a small note caught your eye. You unraveled it and a shiny ring fell out. In fear of losing it, you quickly pick it up. Taking a brief look, it was a bright silver with small dazzling blue diamonds surrounding the surface. Your attention is returned to the note.

"This was gifted to your sweet mother when she was your age. You wear her face, her character, and now her rings. It would be an offense to her not to share this last part of her. Don't tell your father but be patient with him. And remember your mother's words: don't change sweet girl."

The letter wasn't signed but you could tell from the slightly messy and angled handwriting it was from Rhayen. He had taught himself to write and you knew he would use the skill whenever he had the chance. And you were most glad that he used it now.

Even though the note and the words within them suprised you slightly. You put the note by the flowers and took the ring in your hands.

Beneath the light, all the details were brought out. The small diamonds were more than there for show. In fact there placement was quite intentional. It seemed that thousands of miniature diamonds were placed to form a beautiful shape, each a bit different than the others on either side.

As you slid the ring in place with the others on your neck, you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. On either side, there was a golden ring but in the middle stood out a bright silver.

A ring that dazzled in the light and the dark.

The ring of a thousand snowflakes.

The ring of Snow.

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A/N: Hey guys! Sorry if you got notification that it posted earlier and saw nothing, tumblr was freaking our on me and kept on posting my drafts! I know this was far longer than the last part, thank you for reading. And I am sorry if this was a bit too dark but I think it's important for context later in the story and especially readers struggle with the Hunger Games and morals. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Much love! ❤️

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹

[ianblogs4]

Royal blue - Shang Qinghua (moshang?)

Shang Qinghua was a mere child when he met his king.

Let's just rephrase that

Shang Qinghua was stuck on his own world, on a mere child's body that was destined to be killed before he hit 30 because he was just traitor scum and his king just got bored of him.

He was now seeing the man that will once kill him, and he was very amazed by the natural beauty that Shang Qinghua just stayed there, very in awe because of what he later explained as "seeing his OC for the first time"

He was so in awe that he didn't realize when all of his mates were finally dead and he had to pledge for his own life.

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Even after more than 7 years working as a spy for his king, Shang Qinghua never stopped realizing that his king was dazzling, amazingly beautiful like those amazing royal blue flowers that bloomed in the "summer" in the eastern garden that Shang Qinghua secretly tended to everyday, from the moment he realizes that the lilac leafs could, once again, be seen from his office window until the stunning royal blue flowers were finally ready to be buried by their caregiver while he said the last goodbye.

Qinghua was surrounded by people but still very alone, the flowers reminded him so much of his king that he befriended the plant. He talked to it everyday, sometimes he started singing to it, because when he was little, his older sister told him that singing to plants helped them grow. That did not work with the succulent plant that lived around two weeks with this pair of siblings, but it looked like that did work with this rare plant friend.

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Hello! My first short fic :D

It's actually not moshang but Shang Qinghua does say that Mobei-jun is very beautiful

[eyesofshan-if]

pengu!! about the oathstones, are they purely to represent a romantic bond or can they be platonic too? cuz now im imagining a young so and mc pledging to get married when they're older and giving each other oathstones as a promise but then the war happened and mc was taken and so never gave up on trying to find the other half of their soul and in this essay i will

no, they don't!! oathstones represent oaths, usually between two people - they can be between siblings moving to different tribes promising to never forget each other, spouses dedicating their lives to the other, friends vowing that no matter how far apart they are, part of their soul will stay with the other.

to carry an oathstone is to carry the half of the other person's oath with you. and in shan culture, the half of the oathstone that you wear carries half of that person's soul with you

so... what do you think so is doing, right now?

[apompkwrites]

Part 2 of Actual Villian Black Sheep

☆☆☆

Disamonia

Sukuna!Older!Draconia

Sukuna!Draconia is selfish, cold-hearted, immoral, and exceptionally sadistic. Due to his immense power, he rarely cares about the consequences of his actions, even if these affect his younger brother, Malleus. Sukuna!Draconia is aware of his immense power and is quite arrogant about it, brutalizing his old advisor while being patronizing and proclaiming his superiority over them. For this reason, he is highly dismissive of his opponents and rarely takes them seriously, even explicitly stating he would kill Malleus if he ever disappoints him. However, these brutish traits are not to be confused for stupidity. Sukuna!Draconia is highly intelligent and manipulative. He has also displayed the ability to acknowledge and praise his opponents. The only one he seems to acknowledged as his companion is Alucard!Vanrouge and does seem to acknowledge Yuu's existence as they had stop Alucard!Vanrouge from killing Ace and Epel.

Alucard!Older!Vanrouge

Alucard!Vanrouge is violent, sadistic, and masochistic, often belittling opponents after allowing himself to be shot to bits by them before regenerating his wounds. He's not just cruel towards faes - he's cruel to humans, too. If Yuu hadn't stopped him, he would've killed both Ace and Epel. He abhors cowards and treats his enemies extremely brutally, enjoying both inflicting pain and taunting them, especially those who can't control themselves; all accompanied by his sarcastic humor. One such example is Riddle and Jamil, to which Alucard!Vanrouge calls them cowards and belittles them. The only he acknowledged is Sukuna!Draconia as his master, but he does find amusement in Yuu and their determination to stop him from killing their friends.

Blade!Silver

Blade!Silver is swordsman who abandoned his body to become a blade. Birth name unknown. He pledges loyalty to his old kingdom and possesses a terrifying self-healing ability. Blade!Silver wields an ancient sword riddled with cracks, just like his body and his mind. He also pretty chill whenever he's not in battle or locating one of his targets. He also "blessed" with some form of immortality, but sees it more as a curse than anything.

DUDE imagine Sukuna!Draconia who is so feared amongst all of Briar Valley that he becomes a bad omen, a story to keep children in check lest the "demon of Briar Valley" haunts them. And all the while Sukuna!Draconia relishes in the attention, but he hates that he's mostly used as a children's tale.

Alucard!Vanrouge is definitely just a pawn to Sukuna!Draconia, but what does he care? I love the parallels between Lilia and Alucard!Vanrouge and their relationships to their respective Draconia. Like, Lilia serving as a father figure to Malleus and being a guiding force for him, while Alucard!Vanrouge is just a plaything, a stepping stone for Sukuna!Draconia's plans.

NO THE ANGST POTENTIAL THAT BLADE!SILVER HAS OML !!!!!! Like, I can see Lilia knowing Blade!Silver, either fighting against him or stumbling upon him after finding Silver. I can see Lilia gathering stories about Blade!Silver, hoping to one day share them with Silver, but he quickly abandons that idea when he sees who Blade!Silver used to be (or, at least, who Lilia assumes him to be) and now he can't bear the idea that he might have very well cost Silver a sibling.

[honeyynymphh]

| The Mark of the Beast |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E chapter word count: 3k total word count: 5k chapter 1 of 2 tags/warnings: dom copia, he's a dickhead, humiliation, inappropriate touching, abuse of authority, hair pulling

An imposter has apparently been hiding in the abbey, and there is only one way to prove you're part of the congregation. And that is to submit yourself to an examination to find Lucifer's mark upon your body.

read on ao3

I sat just outside Sister Imperator’s office, patiently—or not so patiently waiting for my turn. I was last and had spent the entire day on edge, unable to pay attention to my chores or lessons. Nobody had really been able to pay attention, not since this morning’s sermon. And it hadn’t really been a proper one. Papa Terzo had been interrupted halfway through by Sister Imperator, who had rushed in late—a disturbing thing in its own right. Sister Imperator was never late!

Her hurried and whispered words with Papa had left the rest of us whispering in the pews until Papa had turned to face us, looking confused. He had told us we all needed to submit to an inspection—apparently, an imposter was amongst us. Spreading falsehoods and lies about our Dark Father. The whispers had grown even louder then.

Over the next few days, we were all to submit for an examination to confirm that we were all truly siblings of this abbey. And the only way to prove that was for our bodies to be stripped and searched for a mark—the mark of the beast. A mark bestowed upon our skin when we had pledged ourselves to Lucifer. My stomach had twisted just as my hands in my lap did now.

Some of my other sisters had proudly shown me theirs. I had not been a sibling for very long and I had heard a few remarks about them but nobody had ever said that everyone had one! I thought it was something only the higher clergy were gifted with. Last night, I had twisted myself in circles like a dog chasing its tail trying to find some mark upon my body. Anytime I had spotted a blemish I had felt a momentary rush of relief only to realise it was simply another freckle. I had asked Sister Rosaline, whom I shared my room with to check me over and she had found nothing. Her suspicious eyes and cold voice had made me reluctant to ask anyone else.

Would they throw me out? I knew in my heart I was no imposter, and I had taken my vows. But still, my heart was gripped with dread.

The door was suddenly opened and another Sister walked out, giving me a smile before she skipped in the direction of the papal suites. A ghoul followed, not even glancing at me before it slunk down the halls. Sister Imperator soon followed but before she could hurry out her eyes fell on me.

“Sister!” she said, raising a hand to her forehead in surprise. “I thought Sophia was the last one today.” She sighed. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting but I must go speak with Papa Nihil urgently.”

I tried not to let it get to me. “Should I return tomorrow morning?” I asked as I stood up. 

I did not want to wait a whole night for my fate to be decided, I was anxious enough as it was. This whole ordeal needed to be over!

The older woman shook her head. “No, no, no.” She looked across the hall at a closed door. “Cardinal Copia can check you, we have too many siblings to get through and I want this dealt with quickly.”

“Cardinal?” I squeaked out. I did not want that man anywhere near me. He was terrifying. And I certainly did not want him to see me naked! “But, Sister, I would much rather it be you.”

While the smile she gave me was kind, she was clearly tired and I could tell she had better things to worry about than my embarrassment. 

“Dear, he’s very efficient,” she said, giving me another smile. “You’ll be fine.”

“Or Papa?” I asked. “Can he not check me?”

Sister snorted. “Ha. No. This is not an excuse for Terzo to fuck the entire congregation. We would be here until spring if that were the case.” She gave me a quick little pat on the shoulder and then prodded me in the direction of the Cardinal’s office door. “Cardinal Copia is a professional. And he has finished with everyone else.”

I went to open my mouth to protest but she was already waving me off and hurrying down the halls, her shoes clicking behind her. I stared at his office door. Maybe I could just go back to my room, but I knew it was pointless. I had to be checked and I didn’t want to disappoint Sister Imperator—or have her think I was silly. If it had been Papa Nihil I think I would have been less hesitant. I shuddered at the thought.

I had only ever been in Cardinal Copia’s office once before. It had been when I had first joined the abbey and was a fresh-faced novitiate. He had been talking of rituals—explicit ones—and I had been unable to stop fidgeting in my seat, unable to really concentrate. I had been sitting so far back I do not know how he had noticed me, but he had. And the Cardinal had requested to see me after dinner that night in his office. The old church I’d left behind had instilled in me a sense of shame that had been hard to ignore during those early days—especially when my thoughts would turn to the more lustful. Whenever the Cardinal would speak, I hadn’t been able to control the way I would press my thighs together. I didn’t really care what he spoke of, only that he did. But when he spoke of rituals out there on the sacred grounds, bodies naked in praise of Lucifer, how was I supposed to concentrate? I had never heard such lascivious talk before, and certainly not from a man wearing a cassock!

I didn’t know what I had expected when I had arrived in his office, but having the back of my hands struck with a ruler had not been it.

Lack of discipline, he had told me. I should pay attention and not fidget during lessons. It had been mortifying. But not because he had struck me like an errant child but because it had made my mind immediately think of being bent over the desk and him striking my backside. I never wanted to go into his office again.

That was a lie. I did. But he couldn’t know that. I had witnessed a few hopeful siblings sidle up to him after an impressive sermon, surely emboldened by his passionate words and that wicked look he would get in those mismatched eyes. All of them had been turned away with a snide remark. I had no desire to be mocked or to embarrass myself in front of a high member of the clergy. So I didn’t dare approach him. 

I knocked on the door politely until I heard the sharp command to enter. I did so, letting the door shut softly behind me. The Cardinal was at his desk, bent over some document and scribbling furiously. I stood there awkwardly for a moment before I cleared my throat.

“Cardinal—“

He held up a hand for my silence but did not look up. I bristled but kept my mouth shut, hoping he would finish quickly.

I glanced around the office. It was very much like Sister Imperator’s office with dark wooden panelling and numerous shelves full of books and other odd trinkets. But the Cardinal’s space had a ridged neatness about it, I felt sympathy for the maid who had to clean in here. I suspected he was rather pedantic about everything. My eyes continued to roam until they fell on a high wooden stool off to the side. It looked out of place compared to the Cardinal’s high wingback chair and the hard uncomfortable chair that sat in front of his massive desk—I suspected this was a deliberate choice in an effort to discourage others from staying long. When my eyes fell back to his desk, the Cardinal was placing his fountain pen away and finally acknowledging me with a raised brow, gloved hands folded in front of him on the desk.

“Sister,” he said, “what do you want?”

“Sister Imperator was meant to see me—for my mark,” I said quickly. “But she was called out urgently. She said I could see you instead.”

The man regarded me a moment before he let out a suffering sigh and waved a gloved hand at me.

“Si, si.” He stood, his grucifix clinking against the many buttons of his black cassock. 

It was then I realised he had already removed his biretta. I’d so rarely seen him without it when he was wearing the regular clergy attire. The soft lamplight made his hair look like burnished wood and I could see the greying strands at his temples. I clasped my hands in front of me and tried to not think of how it would feel to run my fingers through it.

He moved around the desk and past me, leaving a trail of heavy incense and leather in his wake. There was a scrape and I turned to watch him grab the stool and place it before his desk.

“Do you know if you have one?” he asked in a bored voice but then he smirked. “Unless you wish to confess to being a virtuous little idolator now?”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t find one but I’m no imposter, Cardinal.”

“We shall see.” He pointed at the stool. “Take off your clothes and sit.”

I stood there stunned by his brash attitude. He scowled at me impatiently.

“Hurry up, girl.” He waved a hand at me impatiently. “I do not want to be here all day.”

I quickly stepped out of my shoes, taking my veil off as I did. I angled my body away from him ever so slightly, not wishing to look at him, though I could feel his eyes on me. The skin on the back of my neck prickled and a shaky breath escaped my lips. I undid the top few buttons of my habit before unceremoniously tugging it over my head. It was nothing, I told myself. Many people had seen me naked since my time at the abbey, I had become more comfortable over time. But still…it had never been in front of Cardinal Copia. I folded my dress over the nearby armchair with my veil before I moved to sit on the stool but his words stopped me.

“Dai!” he snapped, coming towards me and pulling up my bra strap so that it flicked down hard against my shoulder. “The rest of it as well.”

“What?” I said, shocked.

“Remove the rest of your clothes,” he repeated, voice tinged with irritation. “Satana salvami dalle bambine stupide…”

While I didn’t speak Italian, I didn’t need to in order to guess what “stupide” meant. But I wasn’t going to sulk, I just wanted it over and done with. Ignoring the embarrassment already welling somewhere in my chest, I took a deep breath and undid the clasp of my bra, grateful that my fingers didn’t fumble with them. The flush of humiliation was rising up my neck and I could feel it suffusing my cheeks. It’s just like a medical exam, I told myself. A very strange one. I glanced at the Cardinal and he was staring at me with a blank expression. I couldn’t just stand here forever so I decided to just treat it like a bandaid and gathered whatever courage I had to push my knickers down my legs and step out of them. I kicked them towards the rest of my clothes and immediately used my arms to try and cover my breasts with my hands clasped in front of my sex.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Sister,” said the Cardinal, bored disdain dripping from his words. He pointed at the stool. “Sit.”

I awkwardly perched myself on the stool, my hands in my lap and keeping my thighs pressed together tightly while my feet dangled. I didn’t know where to look as he approached me, engulfing me again in that delirious scent of his. It made my skin prickle and I tried to think of anything that would distract me. I was all too aware of how bare I was and didn’t need my stupid body to give me away. Thankfully, he walked behind me and I felt myself relax somewhat. It didn’t last long. Suddenly and without warning, a leather-clad hand was gripping my shoulder while the other touched my bare back. I couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden contact.

“You have not been here long, Sister.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” I replied as his hand pushed me forward slightly. “I only joined a few months ago.”

“Most marks are on the torso,” he said. “The mark isn’t used much in these modern times but everyone is gifted one.” I felt the leather glide down my back, making my skin break out in gooseflesh. It felt unbearably soft despite his precise movement. “Sometimes it is like that of a burn—a branding—or it can be like a tattoo or birthmark. But it’s always His sign.”

It was easier to try and pretend I was merely in a lesson, or perhaps mass, and not sitting here naked while his hands roamed over my skin. He grasped my shoulder again and pulled me back upright. A gloved hand swept my hair to the side and trailed gently over the back of my neck. He moved methodically but I couldn’t deny how every touch sent my nerves alight. Occasionally when he moved closer, the grucifix he wore would swing forward and I’d feel the cool bejewelled cross graze against the skin of my back.

When he tilted my head to the side to look behind my ear I had to bite my lip. The patch of skin there was too sensitive and again my body was tingling. I tried to squeeze my thighs together and then abruptly stopped—I was completely bare, I told myself, and couldn’t hide. He would notice. I tried to think of anything to distract myself: Nihil naked, the smell of rotten eggs—anything revolting I could think of. But it was too hard to conjure up anything disagreeable with those hands on my skin and his scent enveloping me.

“Nothing yet, Sorella,” he hummed. He sounded a little gleeful, as though he was hoping to be the one to find the imposter in our midst. “It could be on your head,” he continued thoughtfully, hand grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging me back so I had to look up at him, “we could chop it all off but that would be a shame to have you looking like Papa Secondo.”

He let out a bark of laughter and moved in front of me, letting go of my hair. I still kept my hands in my lap, trying to salvage whatever modesty I had but he grabbed one arm and stretched it out. I didn’t know where to look so I just stared below his chin at the top few buttons of his black cassock. He twisted my arm and then spread my fingers before he dropped my hand unceremoniously and began doing the same to the other.

It felt like a slight reprieve to have him checking my arm and hand. It didn’t make me feel as delirious as his touching of my back and neck. But too soon he was done with the other arm. I couldn’t place my hands back in my lap so I just gripped the side of the stool. The Cardinal was already tilting my chin up so his fingers could glide over my throat before they dipped over my collarbone. There was a rustle of fabric as I heard him lower himself to the ground before me. I kept my head slightly up, staring at a small brass globe sitting on a shelf behind his desk. One of his hands was gripping my waist while the other flittered over my chest. He muttered something in Italian under his breath.

“I have yet to find a single mark on your skin, dolce,” he said and I still refused to look at him.

“There will be one,” I replied even as my breath hitched.

The feel of his thumb digging into my hip was driving me insane and I tried to take in a calm and even breath. But I lost any composure I had when his thumb accidentally swiped over my nipple. I sucked in a sharp breath in an effort not to moan, my whole body trembling at the contact. 

“Keep still then.”

I bit my lip again as leather moved underneath my breast. How was I supposed to keep still? Surely he didn’t need to touch what felt like every inch of my skin? It was torturous. 

His careful and businesslike touches should not have had me dancing precariously on the knife’s edge of arousal but they did. I was praying that he would find it soon, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. My stomach was tense with building desire and the throb between my legs was getting insistent, I knew I was already soaking wet. Sneaking a glance down at him, I could see his face was set in an expression of focused concentration—his heavy brow furrowed as his eyes swept over my legs. A hand glided up my shin and gripped the side of my knee, fingers tickling the back of my thigh.

He hummed in thought and when I saw his finger move between my pressed legs I nearly cried out.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

No way, I told myself. I was not parting my legs. It was too humiliating. But he just glanced up and caught my eye.

“Do it now, Sorella.”

That frightening face just watched me, seeming to dare me to defy him. I parted my legs barely two inches. His face was directly in front of my shamefully soaked pussy and I was terrified he would notice—and even worse that he would make some snide remark about it. But I knew he had to notice, there was no way he couldn’t smell it. If I could, he certainly could. I wanted to run, but his grip on my leg was firm.

An irritated huff fell from his lips before his large hands swept up my legs and gripped my knees. He forced my legs apart and I nearly tipped off the stool with the sudden force of it. My face flushed again and I readjusted my tight grip on the seat and stared up at the ceiling. The humiliation had me breathing hard. I couldn’t even try to pretend I had any composure left as soft leather-clad fingers moved over the inside of my thigh. I glanced down again unable to stop myself and saw him lean closer. His finger paused—it was right in the crease of where my thigh met my groin. His hand was so close to my dripping sex I was ready to scream. He tapped my skin and I squirmed in my seat.

“I think this is it, dolce,” I felt his breath against my folds and bit the inside of my cheek. How was he doing this? How in heaven was he so calm? “But I have to check for sure.”

“How?” I managed to ask. I didn’t even sound like myself.

As with earlier when he had first begun, there was no warning from him. His head just moved forward as his hands dug into the flesh of my thighs before I felt his mouth kiss against the skin. His cheek brushed again my pussy, sideburns tickling and teasing my flesh before it was suddenly gone. I’d been unable to stop the soft whine of protest that fell from my lips, I prayed that he hadn’t heard.

Suddenly it stung hot and I gasped. I looked where he had touched me—there was a small mark—three sixes intertwined—which blared red for a moment before it faded to look like a regular birthmark. It also sent a rush of pure, unfiltered pleasure through my entire body—a body that was already on edge. I shuddered. The temptation to just scoot myself forward an inch or so, just so that the Cardinal’s large nose was buried against me was overwhelming. 

But he stood abruptly, smoothing his hands over his cassock not even phased that he had left me a wanton mess. I just sat there, still breathing hard as I tried to come to myself.

“You can go, Sister,” he said, moving towards his desk. He glanced at a clock on the wall and grabbed his biretta before placing it on his head and giving me another withering look. “I’m already late for dinner.”

thanks for reading! will hopefully add the rest soon :) apologies for any errors.

Dai! - Come on! Satana salvami dalle bambine stupide - Satan save me from stupid little girls

chapter two

[silkendandelion]

I was inspired to write up some more OCs so here we go, some new, some old

Darling: Former Legate, Legion runaway, lifelong cowboy. Real name Shenandoah, but he admits no one’s ever really called him by his first name since his family died, and now he prefers Darling because it’s easier. Absolute sweetheart, he loves Sunset Sarsaparilla, cigarettes, and hot showers (has a running joke of getting naked immediately when they find a motel, vault, or safe river because he always wants a bath). Prefers to cook breakfast, which is good since Kane prefers to cook dinner. They keep Arcade fed between the two of them. The gun-slinger of the group with the highest agility and highest repair skill.

Kane: Enclave defector from Illinois, one of many thousand genetically augmented "Cadmus Children" from Project Cadmus, later called the Spartoi colloquially, one of the Enclave's many failed attempts to make a super soldier. Kane is still the best combatant of his friends by a wide margin due to his dulled sense of pain from overuse of chems. Call sign "Lover Boy", because as a child he would never fail to collect the dog tags of his fallen siblings. Other Spartoi, including the three who held Harrisburg with him during an Enclave raid, say there's "something wrong with him", that the brainwashing didn't take. He loves his "siblings" despite it all, remembers every life he has ever taken, and now spends his evenings cooking dinner for his friends.

Nero: For a long time, Nero was the man Caesar left in charge of the East, and Nero took advantage of the fact that Caesar rarely visited (if ever), declaring himself a pseudo-emperor and stocking his Praetorian’s with loyal supporters. Upon Caesar’s death, he removed officers he knew he couldn’t control, including having Vulpes Inculta and Lanius arrested for incompetence and brought to Ft. Carson, Colorado, where the fort functions as his “palace” and a training center. Nero is an older man with a soothing voice and a soft-spoken cadence, calm and cruel, with 10 charisma. Despite Caesar’s teachings, Nero loves so-called degenerate pleasures, and keeps his troops tightly controlled with vices and anti-Caesar propaganda.

Romulus: Praetorian, a hulking, might-makes-right man who says he has no scars because he has always been the strongest person in the room. A violent, yet obedient man who despite his larger stature, obeys Remus’ orders because he has never beat him in an armed fight. When Darling is recaptured by the Legion on the Colorado-Utah border, Romulus voices his pleasure in beating him because he quote “never deserved to be Legate”. When Darling says Nero will not want him harmed, Romulus lies to him that Nero only stated “alive”, and does not tell him the true orders: that Nero wanted Darling hurt so he would be more likely to act docile for the sake of safety. Kane absolutely beat the brakes off him in trying to free Darling the second time, but Romulus lived and will come back in later scenes.

Remus: Romulus’ “brother” (they are of similar age and are from the same dissolved tribe), a smaller, more pleasant man who values duty above all else. He served Caesar faithfully and pledged his allegiance to Nero after Caesar’s death, who then named him Chief Praetorian, of which he gives the officers orders in the emperor’s absence. Never cruel, endlessly fair, but completely loyal to his orders. When Darling was recaptured, Remus furiously scolded Romulus for his harsh treatment and even gave Darling medical care, right before carrying out his orders and escorting him to Moab to be received by the Emperor (they did not succeed and Darling escaped again). If he wasn’t ride-or-die Legion, Darling would really like him.

[tastesmes]

hey, isn’t that SAVANNAH CLARKE, who looks a little like SADIE STANLEY? i hear SHE is a TWENTY FIVE year old CIS WOMAN who works as a WAITRESS @ UNCLE SAM’s DINER who has been in town for TWO WEEKS. they AREN’T a member of one of aspen creek’s founding families. you can usually find them at WILLOW STREET or THE COZY NOOK CAFE. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of HALF PACKED SUITCASE ALWAYS BY THE DOOR, CRUMBLED BUS TICKETS, A FLICKERING NEON SIGN BUZZING FAINTLY IN THE DISTANCE, HOMESICK BUT NOT KNOWING WHERE HOME IS. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through!

BIOGRAPHY

triggers: drug addiction, mentions of verbal abuse, foster care.

her life had always been tragic. a father who disappeared right after she was born, a mother who constantly made a pledge to stop steering down the wrong path — only to make those sharp turns away. on and off, it’s what she did. looking at her kids, a promise to be better but never actually keeping it. at least savannah has her old sibling. someone who made their life feel a little less like hell. she depended on them. looked at them the way she should’ve been looking at her mother; a parental figure. a caretaker. a sibling. light in all the darkness.

only that light disappeared one day. sav's last memory of them being a smile as they walked out the door — an unspoken promise that they’d be back .. only to never return. at first, this seemed like the wake up call her mother needed. her oldest child missing, desperately wanting them back home but as the years went on— no answers— things only got worse. sav no longer had someone to lean on, to shield her from what was really going on. day and night, dealing with her mother and having to deal with the verbal lash outs.

then came the time when she was removed from the house. word finally getting around about what was going on behind closed doors and with no other family, savannah was placed into the foster care system. it only hurt more to see that her mother hardly put up a fight and solidifying her biggest fear: her mother didn't love her. not like she did her older sibling. there was no fight for her back, no attempt to try to get better. only a woman who could barely look her daughter in the eye as she was dragged away.

bouncing from home to home, each home worse than the last became the new norm. sav began to fold into herself with every house she went through. there was no attempt to make friends, no trying to please the foster parents of the month. gone was the sweet little girl who tried and in her place was a child who became known as a problem. a troublemaker. having a poor attitude, picking fights, not taking up chores or doing her best at school.

by eighteen, she obviously was never adopted and never found a family that could picture having savannah apart of their life. thus, leaving her to fend for herself. she had no goals, no clue what her next steps were and decided to merely do something she's never done before — travel. by her own means. she took up multiple part time jobs, saving up money and eventually saved up enough money to begin her travels.

there was never a destination in mind. constantly hopping onto buses or trains, and going wherever felt right at the time. every destination she'd stay a couple months in a motel, or temporarily roommating while working a simple part time job and experiencing whatever this town or city had to offer. though, the issue was — savannah never felt as though there was a place that ever felt right. no place that made her feel like it could be a place where she could live forever. on top of that, sav always felt the urge to run whenever people got too close. when growing up and never understanding what it means to be loved, she'd pack up and leave whenever she feels like people are getting to close for comfort. her walls built so high and has no idea how to allow herself to let them down.

MISCELLANEOUS

to be announced.

[scribbling-dragon]

for the fic requests: i’ve personally been kind of craving a grian & jimmy siblings fic that isn’t all like the “wholesome” or overprotectiveness that i see a lot in the tag, sibling relationships can be pretty nasty but still have that underlying affection or familarity to each other because of shared life experiences etc,, i think a dynamic like that (especially in any of the life series with the added stress of being in a death game, you can choose whatever setting tho because i think those two are just Inherently Fucked Up) would be cool to read about if you’re up for it

are you really siblings if you don't try and kill each other on the regular?

summary:

“Nah, most he’d do is scam you out everything valuable you own.”

“And leave me for dead.” He finishes.

“Well, I never said anything about you not dying to something stupid, just that Scar wouldn't kill you.”

“Wow,” he mutters, “what care and concern from my dearest older brother, truly, I have never felt more loved in my life.”

(ao3 link)

(2,080 words)

(reblogs are also appreciated <3)

The sand shifts beneath his feet as he steps onto it. The grains immediately worm their way into his shoes, through some strange impossibility that should mean that sand shouldn’t currently be in his shoes. There’s no way for sand to be in his shoes, yet he can find the grains itching at his feet almost immediately- within seconds of stepping foot onto the first patch of sand.

He grumbles under his breath, stepping further and further into the desert, squinting his eyes against the offensive sun that does its best to blind him the moment he looks up. The sand continues to sink around his feet, grains worming their way into his shoes and sticking to his feet.

It’s Grian’s stupid fault for choosing to live in such a hostile environment- seriously, there were so many better places for him to pick to live in and yet he chooses a desert? The man’s supposed to be smart, or something, and yet he chooses the biome that is potentially the most hostile to beings living in it (other than, maybe, an ocean. Choosing to live in the middle of the ocean is also a pretty stupid idea, but he’s also pretty sure Grian’s done that too). Maybe the man isn't so deserving of the clever title everyone gives him; maybe he’s just an idiot.

He glances up again, taking his chances with being blinded by the sun to see how much further he has to go. Monopoly Mountain still looms on the horizon, a seemingly insurmountable distance away. It feels as though he’s hardly made any progress with his journey across the desert, and the constantly shifting sand beneath his feet does nothing but add to the nightmarish trek.

He begins to curse Grian out beneath his breath.

“Now that’s just plain hurtful.” He startles, twisting to face the new arrival.

Grian’s perching on a nearby cactus, hand lightly resting on the top of it for balance. His talons curl around one of the arms of the cacti. It doesn't look at all comfortable, and Jimmy hopes he’s picking cacti spines out of his feet for the next week.

“You chose to live in a stupid place.” He complains. “Seriously? What’s wrong with a- a nice forest? Somewhere that’s not this hot or difficult to walk through!” He kicks at some of the sand, which only succeeds in shifting it slightly and adding to the slowly growing desert in the base of his boots.

“It’s for exactly that reason we chose to live here, Tim.” Grian cocks his head to the side. “Don't exactly want everyone wandering on past our base, especially not with so many red lives running around.”

“Hardly anyone’s going to be running past your base with Scar there.” He scoffs. He’s almost tempted to kick at the sand again, but that’d do nothing but make him more annoyed at the existence of a desert. He pledges to himself, then, that he shall never set foot in another desert unless it is with the sole purpose of eradicating every grain of sand from within it. Can't be a desert without any sand, can it?

“Or me.” Grian grins. “More than a few people are wary about me after that enchanting table trap.”

“You give yourself far too much credit.” He laughs. “I was the one that set that trap off- it didn't even work. Everyone overestimates how far you plan ahead.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds. This desert really is far too hot, he can feel the grains of sand beginning to collect between his feathers. Something which is going to be a pain to get out once he’s returned home and is safely away from this hellspawn of a biome. “You don't plan ahead at all.”

“Don't I?” Grian tries to sound surprised, raising his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. It’s done with the sole intent of irritating him. And it works. Irritatingly. Grian just knows how to get under his skin, managing the feat with nothing more than a few expressions and carefully spoken words.

“No,” he can feel his feathers begin to fluff up a little, “you don't. Have you even thought about how this is going to end? About how all of this is going to end? Because I know you haven't, you never think that far ahead, never beyond the next trap or prank you're planning on pulling, hm? What happens when your contract with Scar runs out? What happens if he’s the one to kill you? What happens if you're the one to kill him?”

“It won't come to that.” Grian frowns at him, wings twitching. The hints at his annoyance are subtle. Everything about him is subtle, subtle up until the point where it is not, and you're left wondering where all of the sudden annoyance came from. “It won't.”

“But it might.” He shrugs. “What happens if you and Scar beat each other to death, hm?”

“The same thing that will happen if you and Scott beat each other to death, Tim,” Grian looks at him. “You die, and you move on. Game over, you go home.”

“And everyone else forgets this even happened in the first place.” He says, shoulders sagging. “Everyone goes home, none the wiser. As though they never disappeared in the first place, because it’s so easy for you to do that.”

“You make it sound like I enjoy that.”

Jimmy sighs. “I know you don't. But you don't think about these things. How are you meant to stop yourself from getting hurt if you don't think about it?”

“Isn't that what you're here for?” Grian asks. He hops down from the cacti, stretching his wings out as he lands. The wingspan is far larger than he normally has, tawny brown feathers so different from the usual bright reds and yellows of his wings.

His own are the same as they've always been. Unchanging. The bright yellow remains unaffected by whatever magic forces Grian to adapt- he’s not sure what he’d prefer; the unchanging warning of his own wings, or being forced to adapt with each different server, changing as he moves between them. 

“And here I thought you actually appreciated my company.”

“Of course not,” Grian scoffs. “Now, what was it you needed? Unless you just felt like complaining at me.”

“Uh,” why was he in the desert in the first place? He hadn't done anything remarkable that day, certainly nothing that he would have decided to trudge out here to inform their allies of- “Oh! Scott wants more sand, says our supplies are running low.”

“And he sent you to do it for him?”

“He’s doing enchants,” he says. “You know I can't do those very well.”

“Oh I am aware.” Grian laughs. “Your attempts are still as messy as when you were ten, I take it?”

He grumbles in response, which only prompts Grian to laugh more even though it isn't really that funny.

“Sand?” He prompts, when he realises Grian’s just going to keep laughing at him. At this rate, he’s going to pass out from a lack of oxygen, or the heat getting to him, before Jimmy can even secure the goods and been on his merry way back to his distinctly not sand-filled home.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon,” Grian beckons him to follow, and he does, falling into step behind him. Grian moves with ease across the landscape, somehow managing not to sink into the sand as deeply as he does. Maybe it’s something to do with not wearing boots, though he’s certainly not about to risk burning his feet to test it- he’d rather Grian doesn't laugh at him anymore. “I don't see why you couldn't just dig up some of the edges, why come all this way to find me?”

“I'm not about to die because Scar found me digging up part of the desert.”

“He wouldn't kill you for it,” Grian sighs.

“Uh, yes he would. Have you met the man?”

“Nah, most he’d do is scam you out everything valuable you own.”

“And leave me for dead.” He finishes.

“Well, I never said anything about you not dying to something stupid, just that Scar wouldn't kill you.”

“Wow,” he mutters, “what care and concern from my dearest older brother, truly, I have never felt more loved in my life.”

“Oh, knock it off,” Grian nudges him far harder than necessary, pushing him into a small pile of sand that flies up as he kicks it, getting in his eyes and his mouth. He spits the sand out, feeling the grains catch in his teeth as he grimaces.

He stumbles after Grian, just to shove him back, watching him stumble slightly, teetering a little to the side. Grian shoves him back, as though Jimmy’s own shove wasn't revenge already.

He jabs an elbow into Grian’s ribs in return, digging into the spot he knows is especially sensitive after Grian cracked three ribs while attempting to fly for the first time. Grian shouts, loud and wordless, which is all the warning he gets before Grian leaps at him, shoving him down into the sand.

“Grian!” He cries. He can feel sand nestling amongst his hair, digging into his feathers. “Hey, hey!” He shoves at Grian, attempting to dislodge the avian. It doesn't work, and they simply end up rolling around.

Grian kicks at him, talons scratching down his trousers, no doubt ripping his jeans- something he’s going to have to explain to Scott later, no doubt. He kicks right back, shoving at Grian’s face as he goes to bite him, shoving him away until he’s at a safe enough distance that he won't - literally - go for the jugular.

Grian licks his hand.

He pulls it back with a shout of disgust, kicking at Grian hard enough to dislodge him, scrambling to his feet before Grian can lunge at him.

“What was that for!” He yells, hopping back a step when Grian still looks tempted to lunge for him.

“You jabbed me!” Grian yells back, gesturing wildly with his arms. His wings flap too, stirring up the sand and stinging at his eyes.

“And you tried to bite me!” He doesn't shriek- he doesn't. Grian is a known liar, so even if he does go around snitching on him, not that he shrieked in the first place, no one’s going to believe him. “How many times have I told you not to go for the throat!”

“How many times have I told you not to elbow me!” Grian shrieks back at him. “I wouldn't have to bite you if you didn't elbow me!”

“You shoved me first.” He crosses his arms. His wings twitch behind him, feathers ruffling as he tries to dislodge as much of the sand as he can.

“And? It’s my desert.”

“It’s not your desert.”

“Uh, yeah it is?” Grian tips his head to the side. “I live in it. It’s my desert.”

“Whatever,” he throws his hands up, turning around. “I give up! Keep your stupid sand!”

“What are you gonna tell Scott?” Grian yells after him. He ignores him, stalking across the sand, gritting his teeth every time it slips beneath his feet.

When he does arrive back at their base, Scott is still enchanting, nose deep in one of the books and glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose as he leans forward to read it, quill and ink set aside for the moment.

He looks up as Jimmy enters, eyes widening in surprise at the state of him.

“What happened to you? You look like you had a fight with a bucket of sand and lost.”

“Grian.”

“Ah,” Scott nods his head along sagely. “That certainly explains why you've come back dripping sand, yet seemingly lacking in it.”

“It just wasn't working out,” he waves Scott off. “I'm going for a lie down.”

“Alright,” he nods, watching his husband go. One of his trouser legs was torn, as though it had been ripped to shreds by a wild animal, or a particularly vicious bush. He has a feeling it was neither of those, though. He supposes he must give Grian credit where credit’s due, though he’s not sure what the man gets out of beating his brother up.

It simply makes him all the more glad to be a single child; he can't imagine the hassle of having a brother that seems hellbent on killing you at every turn.

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

it's really interesting to think about avatar in the context of the mid-2000s when it came out, specifically its relationship to the war in iraq -

like, it's a show that comes down hard on the side of "war and imperialism and colonialism are wrong", in a time period when the US was heading off to imperialist war. there's even an episode where we get a look into a school in the imperialist nation and see kids reciting a thinly-veiled analogue for the pledge of allegiance and being taught that the people they invaded had more military power than they really did. it's honestly kind of radical - you could get in real trouble for refusing to say the pledge, but here we have a kids show protagonist who doesn't say it and that's portrayed as a good thing. the US justified the invasion of iraq by claiming they were building weapons of mass destruction, and here we have the show's villains exaggerating their victims' military power to justify war. doing what the US did is bad guy behavior.

but on a different note -

i was watching katara and hakoda's reconnection scene on youtube at one point and i saw a bunch of comments from people saying the scene reminded of their own relationships to their fathers in the military. i can't find the video now, but i've been turning that over in my head a lot. hakoda leaves his children to go to war because of a devastating attack that kills someone he cares about. kids in the early-mid 2000s may have also experienced a parent going off to war because of a devastating attack that killed people. those kids would probably relate to katara and hakoda's relationship.

and yet that feels like a really strange reading combined with the all the stuff about the fire nation being the US. hakoda goes off to fight the nation that's committed genocide against his people, that's hardly the same as someone in the US going to fight in the iraq war. is the show pro-iraq war because hakoda is portrayed as a soldier leaving his kids to fight a noble fight? or is it anti-iraq war because its villains are imperialists that use the same propaganda as the US?

or, for another example: there's a strong theme in the show of cycle-breaking, of not responding to violence with more violence. zuko has every reason to want revenge on his father, katara has every reason to want revenge on yon rha, aang has every reason to want revenge on the fire nation (as represented by ozai) but in all of their pivotal confrontations, they choose not to follow through. plenty of americans were certainly feeling ready for revenge at the time, and here comes a show saying pain and violence should not be answered with more of the same.

that's an anti-war message, but it feels like a similarly strange reading. all of these characters are victims of the fire nation's imperialism - comparing them to people in the US post 9/11 feels wrong. their desire for revenge seems far more justified.

but the parallels are there, and i don't think they can be ignored. that was the context the show was created in, and as much as it depicts victims of imperialist war, its target audience was kids in an imperialist nation. the seemingly contradictory nature of of these interpretations makes total sense when you take that into account.

as someone who was a kid in the 2000s (9 years old the year atla starting airing) the things that kids could reasonably know about the war included:

there was a scary attack where a lot of people died

people want to fight the bad guys who did the attack

adults in their lives- their parents or friends' parents or their older siblings - might be going off to fight

everyone is super intense about saying the pledge of allegiance

the bad guys are Very Scary and Dangerous, at least that's what people say

and the show speaks to these realities. it depicts a school that teaches lies and forces kids to recite a pledge of allegiance analogue, it depicts characters dealing with a desire for revenge, it depicts a parent leaving to go to war. it prompts kids to question what they're being taught, helps them understand the pain of people around them, and provides them comfort and assurance that they're still loved even if their parents are absent.

it's not like victims of imperialism being relatable to the target audience of "kids in an imperialist country" is a bad thing. it doesn't detract from the show. atla's cycle-breaking theme is still powerful because it's just well-written, we can really feel the characters' pain and understand why revenge isn't the way for them to get justice and closure. hakoda and katara's relationship is still compelling because there are plenty of reasons a loving parent might have to leave their children and plenty of ways that even people that love each other can have a fraught relationship. it never comes off like the colonized are just as bad as the colonizers, even if their stories do have some parallels to US soldiers and citizens.

i feel like the show's resurgence in the 2020s has led to a lot of really great discussion of its themes, but i feel like its fandom here skews a little younger and might not be as able to look at it through this lens specifically. and it's an important one, and a fascinating one.

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

Some Modern Aegon ii Headcanons:

Hey y'all! Finally got internet in my new place! So I'll be able to post the rest of my headcanons in the next few days. I've done Aemond, so I'll continue with the 'A' name theme, and do Aegon ii next! He was pretty fun to write for honestly. Hope y'all enjoy! :)

Business major, for sure. Maybe Finance major? Partly because it fits the frat boy stereotype, but also because Viserys and Alicent want him to take over the family business one day. And he really doesn’t even know where to start with all that. Tries to convince them many times that Aemond would be the better fit. (Aemond agrees)

Has seriously considered starting an only fans... He's pretty much got a username, and plan made out, he just hasn't committed to making it.

When Aemond gets his own apartment, Aegon decides to just move into the frat house he’s a part of, it’s easy, and he’d still get his own room. Plus he’ll probably be the president at some point so really he’s just prepping for that. But he'll probably get his own place at some point again fairly soon after.

As I mentioned in my hotd headcanons post, Aegon would take the party themes very seriously, and that extends to the planning as well. He has a very specific drink list. With certain brands and flavors. He briefs the pledges that man the door, and let people in. Basically, he tells them all girls get in, most guys too, as long as no one is being a problem. Aegon just likes to have a good time, he doesn't really care too much about the guest list.

Has a shelf/container in his bathroom of different designer colognes. He picks a different one depending on the mood he’s in, and what he’s doing for the day.

I think he'd be into pretty much anyone. We all know Aegon likes a good sneaky link, but I think he does long for something more sometimes. Sure he has fun, and it's a stress relief for him maybe. But as he gets older, he gets lonelier.

In certain scenarios I see him going for someone who would be very opposite him. Someone more serious, and studious. Maybe fits into that "nerdy girl" stereotype. He'd find it fun to make them flustered. When he "accidentally" runs into them at the library he tries to play it off as a coincidence, but really he just wanted to see them.

Maybe they meet through Aemond, or they had a class together. If they did have a class together, he would at first be sitting several seats away, but every class he moves a couple chairs closer. Until he's eventually right next to you, which would be when his flirting begins.

Aegon would be so clueless in the romantic/boyfriend category. He's a professional at flirting, and getting people in his bed. But he gets super nervous to ask you on a first date. He worries you won't think he's serious. And when he finally does, he spends several days planning the date, to make it perfect. He's very excited.

He seems like a guy who would fall hard, and fall fast. Maybe a little clingy, especially at first. But he learns overtime, and becomes more secure in himself as a boyfriend. He might just need some reassurance every once in a while.

Like Aemond, I think one of his love languages would be gift giving. Maybe it's cause they both have money to spare? But I think Aegon preferes words of affirmation most of all. He compliments you all the time, and loves it when you do the same to him. "Is that a new top? Cause damn babe, you look good".

He knows he's not the golden child (that title probably belongs to Aemond or Helaena), but he wants to still make Alicent proud of him. He might just not know how to do that yet. He might joke about how his family is annoying but deep down he really loves them.

Sometimes he wishes he was closer to his siblings. As the eldest he feels like he needs to be better about being around, and making an effort. Like going to get a coffee with Aemond, or lunch with Helaena. Maybe even drive Daeron to his fencing lessons.

This man loves a sugary drink or snack. If you go to Starbucks, he's going to get some hella sweet frappuccino with whipped cream and toppings. And if y'all walk by a bakery or candy store he might just drag you in there.

He's oddly good at English? Like in high school, and your teacher would ask something like "and what does the blue door represent to the protagonist?" Maybe it's just cause he's good at bullshitting things? But he's oddly very perceptive/good with literary questions like that.

He likes to wear his hair longer. He likes the look, and I've got to say, I agree. Alicent likes his hair shorter, she tries to convince him it's easier to manage. Plus that's how she'd do it when he was a kid. But Aegon won't budge. "No, no Mom, it's sexy". She rolls her eyes to this.

All in all, it might take him a little longer to find his way and to be more secure in himself. But ultimately he's a sweetheart, a romantic, and a sympathetic guy. He just wants his mom to be as proud of him as she is his siblings, and he wants to be a good older brother. But he loves his family, and he loves his s/o too. He just needs some extra love in return sometimes.