#an extra scene to tide you over

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 1

Enemies to lovers | Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Angst 🖤

Spencer isn't a fan of the BAU's new genius (you).

You didn’t have a particular like or dislike for Dr. Spencer Reid. For the most part you felt fairly neutral. He was a colleague, one of the team. The two of you weren’t super close but Garcia says that’s because there’s not enough space in the BAU for two genius’s.

He didn’t seem to care for it when you blurted out facts that Hotch asked for or knew a statistic down to a closer decimal than he did.

“If you would do your reading on rapidly updated internet databases instead of printed out media, your statistics wouldn’t be a month behind,” you sniped at him after he sassed you.

Hotch gave you a pointed look.

“He said 13.6% and you said 13.2%- that discrepancy is not one I’m concerned with. 13% would have been fine,” Hotch said and looked back down at the case file before him.

The jet hummed softly, Rossi raising his eyebrow at Reid who seemed to have something to say.

“Reid what do you know about sharp force injuries to the ears?”

“The ear canal is a sensitive and vulnerable part of the body, often associated with communication and hearing. The criminal may have chosen this specific method as a way to assert control or power over their victims by targeting a vital sensory organ. Depending on if he wound it into the brain slowly, it may have been a sadistic killing,” he answers rapidly.

“You think this was torture? It looks more like an instant death,” you answer.

“Ancient torture methods focus on the ears as a way to deal pain by shattering the ear drums and rendering the victim deaf. Given the amount of blood in the right ear I’d say it was done antimortem as a form of torture while the pick through the left ear was the killing blow. He even angled this ice pick upward and into the brain,” he runs his long fingers over the crime scene photos to show you.

You’re almost in awe that he was able to deduce that before seeing the bodies but you say nothing.

"The first two only had an ice pick to the ear which killed them," Hotch said.

"Maybe he hadn't learned yet that he enjoys the torture," Rossi adds.

“Either way this unsub has a fascination with ears,” JJ says.

“Maybe he’s deaf himself?” Morgan chimes in.

You accidentally kick Reid’s ankle while adjusting in your seat across from him, he snaps his head up and narrows his eyes on you.

The conversation spurs on all the way to Portland, Maine where the smell of saltwater invades your nostrils as you step off of the plane.

-

The following day you’re partnered up with Reid to sort through a series of clues left by the unsub. Two more bodies dropped in twenty-four hours, leaving 8 riddles on 8 bodies that needed to be decoded.

“I can take care of this myself,” Reid argues with Hotch.

“I know you can but an extra set of eyes can’t hurt, we’re on a time crunch. Monica Dentz went missing four hours ago. If he sticks to his MO, she only has ten hours left,” with that Hotch exited the room.

Reid rather aggressively tossed his should bag on the table before snatching up copies of the riddles from the table and pinning them to the board.

“I’m not trying to get in your way,” you sigh. You watch him organize the riddles on the board.

“Try harder,” he snaps.

You scoff but your eyes scan over his tall frame as he puts the board together. Nope.

“I think the first one is talking about a ship, same with the third and fifth,” Reid says as he flips a pen in his fingers.

“If you’re taking it literally. ‘Alone in the tide’ could just be a metaphor for loneliness,” you point out.

“And what do you make of ‘the bow takes charge, towards the arctic waters where she sleeps’?” He asks. He’s less condescending this time, more curious but still annoyed.

“That.. that’s probably about a boat,” you accept.

“If you look at these as a story, where you read them from the first lines strung together and then the second lines… it reads like a book. I think someone he loved died at sea,” it seems to click for Reid and he starts scribbling on the board. “And here… I think this means there was an explosion. A boiler room maybe?” He’s moving around the two boards quickly, talking fast, pushing his hair back from his eyes. For a moment you almost find it adorable.

“Maybe he went deaf in a boating accident that killed someone he loves…” you add, standing to look at the board.

He calls Garcia and then Hotch.

“He’s killing them on a boat, it’s symbolic for him. We think he was a victim of a boating accident and lost his hearing…” he continues to speak but you become distracted.

Why were you becoming attracted to him? He was never ugly but you had never noticed him this way before. He was too busy infuriating you with his attitude. Yet he was growing on you in the last few months. Weird.

“Now what?” You ask him.

“We wait for them to get names. Hotch will tell us where he needs us next, we’ll continue to work the profile from here,” he places the pen in his mouth and flips through the victim profiles again.

“Don’t you have an eidetic memory? Why do you keep going through those…”

“Helps me deduce the information,” he shrugs dismissively.

You frown.

“Ya’know,” you sigh and pull up a chair across from him. “I have no intention of overshadowing you.” He glances up from the file.

“So why do you go out of your way to correct or narrow down my answers?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question. You didn’t know why you did it.

“Habit? I’m used to being the smartest person in the room,” you admit.

“Right,” is his only response as he opens another file.

You don’t know what else to say so you take a look at the profile the team has built.

2 hours pass in awkward silence before Hotch calls the two of you to meet them at the east harbor for a raid of the now named suspects boat.

Once you arrive, Morgan and Prentiss greet you while you’re fumbling with your vest. After a moment and a frustrated sigh, Reid steps behind you.

“Here the strap is twisted up,” he says.

His fingertips graze your hip where your shirt is riding up. Your breathing hitches but you try not to appear affected.

“Thanks,” you tell him.

“Sounds like a plan,” you answer Prentiss who had been explaining the entry points.

“The two of you friends now?” Morgan asks Reid.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Reid answers stoically with his hand propped on his gun. You scoff and shake your head.

“What?” Reid turns his head to you.

“Nothing, let’s just do this,” you snipe. Morgan and JJ exchange an concerned glance.

The man was impossible. You understood if he had walls up, if he didn’t like new people or the competition. But he’s not even trying to welcome you in the slightest.

The scent of ocean air and dead fish fills your nostrils as you follow behind Morgan down the dock. Reid and JJ creep onto the stern of the considerable sized old yacht while Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss took the bow. You and Morgan are entering through the main entrance of the cabin with deadly stealth.

You hear varying 'clears' come from your coworkers before you point Morgan to a hatch leading below deck. You think you can hear shuffling of some kind happening but it's hard to tell with the sway of the ship.

The rest of the team enter behind you but its Morgan who insists on jumping down first, forgoing the small ladder.

"Randy Lional, put your hands up," he's shouting as you drop down behind him.

You raise your gun as you take in the scene, someone else drops down behind you, it's Reid based on the silver revolver in your line of sight.

The man is crouched over an unconscious Monica Dentz, one of her ears bleeding and her wrists bound. You think she's still breathing.

"Put the gun and the ice pick down man," Morgan yells and then Hotch is next to him.

"He can't hear you," you tell Morgan when Randy drags the barrel of the gun over the girl's half naked body as though he's lost in a trance. His burly back is turned to the team and the situation is so unique that none of you know how to intercept him.

You push between Morgan and Hotch to slowly approach him. It's Reid who grabs your arm and shakes his head, something like concern playing in his hazel eyes. You take your arm from him and turn to the unsub.

An idea strikes you so you pull off your earring and toss it in his direction, it slides across the floor into his line of sight, causing him to jump up and turn around.

The man's eyes are wide, dark bags below them. He's frantic as he shakily points the gun at you. His stringy strands of hair are oiled to his chubby aged face and he appears to be shocked by the FBI's presence. He's aiming the gun at Monica's head.

"Put the gun down," Morgan yells again, gesturing at the weapon.

You begin to use sign language, after putting your own gun back in its holster. Reid steps closer to you, his revolver still raised.

"I know that you're hurting. I know what happened that night. I'm so sorry about your parents," you begin to sign. "But torturing others this way is not going to change what happened to you."

Reid glances at you, seemingly impressed by your use of ASL.

"She's trying to talk him down," Reid informs the rest of the team.

"Please, drop the weapons," you sign to him again. He looks more sad, defeated than before and you're hopeful.

"Does he profile as suicidal?" You ask the team.

"Yes," Hotch answers. You swallow hard.

Just then Monica stirs awake and begins screaming against the cloth gag in her mouth.

What happens next feels like slow motion, you don't even know how to process it.

Randy raises the gun and fires at you, three shots in rapid succession before you can blink. And then Reid has stepped nearly completely in front of you, firing two shots along with a barrage of shots from the team.

You hit the floor in a daze and chaos ensues.

"We need medics!" Prentiss is screaming into her ear piece.

"Two agents hit, one victim, subject deceased," Hotch is speaking into his mic as he rushes over to you.

The blinding pain is in your shoulder, the blood hot as it oozes out of you.

"Reid," you search for him.

"Ah, I'm okay. I'm okay," he doesn't sound okay.

And then you see it, the wound in his neck, the blood pouring from his mouth. Reid is grabbing at his throat for the wound, blood coating his hand. Crimsons running down his slender wrist and long fingers. Then Morgan is applying pressure to the wound while JJ is tending to you.

You wince in pain as she is pressing down on your shoulder. You can physically feel the metal bullet sitting inside of your body, sending pain radiating in all directions. People are talking all around you, JJ's eyes are full of tears as she tries to get you to stay conscious.

"Come on kid, look at me," Morgan is pleading with Reid. no no no.

"Why did you..." you try to ask why he stepped in front of you but the room begins to spin. You start to see double and you don't know if its you or Reid groaning in pain. Reid's eyes are rolling back in his head and he's starting to go limp in Morgans lap.

Reid took a bullet for you, and it may kill him. What if he dies thinking you hate him?

A blur of paramedics enter the space before you lose consciousness murmuring Reid's name.

A/N- Hope you guys love this. I'm already working on the 'lovers' part.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; chapter 5

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Commander Snow had been absent from your life for three days. 

He had left boxes of food in anticipation but expected no reward in return. He didn’t turn up at the late hours of the night. No demands of you coming to the Compound with brownies were given.

It was a welcome change in your routine. It gave you more time to focus on your mother. She improved greatly with the extra attention and could be dropped down to half a bottle of morphling every 12 hours. 

She still needed your help to rise from bed and wash but was now lucid enough to feel like your mother again. 

You felt less isolated now that she was back. And with Edmund dropping by every day you felt almost normal. 

You gave him the spare bottles of morphling to sell. Commander Snow would drop you quickly and it was important to have some money saved to tide you over until you got your job back.

You decided to use a small portion to buy your mother fresh bandages. She would only need one more batch before the wounds on her back were closed.

The walk into town was busy but no one paid you any mind. Most avoided looking at you. 

You were used to the isolation now. It didn’t bother you as much now. 

The nice day turns upon seeing Peacekeepers in large groups marching through the streets. 

You stop walking to let people pass as they rush towards you. Peacekeepers formed groups as

you looked around, they were impossible to count. They moved too fast in and out of houses, and as you lost one, two more appeared in his absence. 

You freeze seeing Commander Snow, marching through the streets with the cavalry behind him. They break down doors to people's homes and the Peacekeepers split up into groups of four as they search the houses before rejoining the group. 

It was chaos as people ran to avoid their way. Demands of the Peacekeepers were yelled over crying children, and explanations of homeowners. You feel your heart pound at the scene. 

Such chaos always brought danger. Agitated Peacekeepers after a hard day's work are always looking for a reason to use their power over the district people. 

You press yourself against a side of a building, out of rushing people's way. You try and re-enter the stream of people but a breck never comes. More yelling is heard and you suddenly see why the rush was heading down stream. A large group of Peacekeepers all kitted up in their gear with vests and helmets come chasing the people. They grab who they can and throw them up against brick walls searching them for contraband. 

The coins burned a hole in your pocket. If found there is little chance of retaining them. 

They come closer and you try again to follow the rush but are pushed back. Somebody needed to be caught by the Peacekeepers. 

You scan the area for another escape route and see the tunnel that leads to the Capitol train route. Peacekeepers and higher officials were sure to be swarming on the other side but you could hide in the darkness that the tunnel provided until the chaos settled, 

The leader of the group blew a whistle and you took off to your path before you could figure out what it meant. 

Unfortunately, a Peacekeeper had already set his eyes on you. And watching you run and hide was a worthy enough cause to follow you. 

You barely make it into the darkness before you are caught and thrown into the wall. 

“Do you have any weapons or contraband on you?” The Peacekeeper shouted. 

He had brought along his partner who held his rifle out towards you. 

“No sir,” you answer, but he runs his hands along you anyway. He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the hard, dirty wall while the other patted down.

With your forced position, you stare at the other Peacekeeper. The uniform aged him. His face was soft and round but hidden under the shadow of the large helmet. He had beautiful green eyes that went wide just as the Peacekeeper was about to pat the pocket that held your money. 

‘Whoa!” The other Peacekeeper places a hand on his friend's shoulders and pushes him back. “That’s Snow’s girl. I’ve seen her at the Compound.”

“Are you sure?” The hand that held you was released quickly. 

He looks at you again, “I am pretty sure.”

“I am!’’

 Maybe some good could come out of your predicament. 

“Go get him. He could want her searched anyway.”

“There’s no need to go get him. I’ll go home.” You turn so you can be heard.

“Shut up.” The Peacekeeper ordered. 

Green eyes took off back down the street, leaving you with his harsher friend. 

He unclips his cuffs and locks them around your wrists, telling you to sit on the ground. 

You knew better than to argue with Peacekeepers, so you sat and waited. 

Five minutes pass in silence. 

You hoped his business would be more pressing and he would send the Peacekeeper away with instructions to set you free. But you could see his shadow coming closer as you had the thought. 

If it wasn’t for his darker uniform you would have thought he was just another Peacekeeper, and not Commander of District 12.

His eyes hit you on the ground before going up to his officer. 

“The south exit is blocked, go help the others there. Search the people.” 

They both leave with a ‘yes sir’, and a salute. 

He moves quickly as they integrate back into the crowd.

He pulls you up, hooking your cuffed hands over his neck, and presses you up against the brick wall. His hands go under your arms and cement themselves to the wall behind, keeping them pinned up on his shoulders. He keeps his body close to hinder your movement and rests his left knee against the brick. 

He kisses you so fast, you weren’t sure if he managed to pin you before or after. His kisses are fast and hard, you don’t manage to even attempt one back before he is moving again. 

His greedy lips go to your throat, placing big kisses up and down it. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks between kisses. You couldn’t tell him about the money. He was sure to demand it from you. 

“Walking,” you push back on his shoulders but it invites him closer. 

His lips go from just under your ear back down to the hollow of your throat. 

“You shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.” 

The danger followed him, not you. You had walked these streets a hundred times before without any worry. 

He finds the spot he likes, just where your collarbone and neck meet, and begins to bite down. You wiggle underneath him to no avail. The biting upon your neck hurt but he seemed deaf to your pleas. You felt only a Peacekeeper beneath you, no sign of a man you could reason with. Your head only knocked against his hard helmet, you pushed yourself up on arms covered with the soft material of the peacekeeper uniform. Even your eyesight was blocked by the Peacekeeper's rifle slung over his shoulder. 

You were in no better of a position than the people in the houses. You were offered the same situation; let them take what they wanted or suffer the consequences of them just taking it anyway. 

“I’ve missed you,” he admits, “Why did you never come to see me?” 

You let your head rest back against the wall now that it wasn’t tossing and turning to alleviate the pressure of his bites. 

The truth was not an acceptable answer. You couldn’t tell him you had no interest in seeing him ever again.

“You were busy,” you tried. 

“You could have come. I would have seen you.” He goes back to your neck. His kissing was slow and lazy

“Commander, please.” You could still hear the commotion outside. 

A whooping sound is heard from outside the ally. 

He pulls his head back in its direction. 

“What did they find?” you ask. 

“Rebels. Propaganda has been spreading around the district. Looks like we found the warehouse it was coming from”. 

He ducks his head out from under the chain, releasing you from your prison, and quickly undoing your cuffs before softly shoving you towards the street. 

“Go straight home.” 

You nod your head in agreement and watch him rejoin his army. 

You run away from the noise, dodging people as they run with you. 

The same Peacekeepers that pinned you in the tunnel waited by a checkpoint but they didn’t bother you again as you ran past. 

—------

It was the next afternoon when a Peacekeeper van turned up outside your house. Children playing ran back inside. 

The Peacekeeper politely knocked at your door. 

“Yes?” you answer. You keep the door in front of your body like a shield. 

“Miss.” He nods his head, “I am here to take you back to the Compound”. 

Your gut twisted. The holiday was over and you were back to playing puppet. 

“I’ll finish my cooking and be right over.” 

He places his hand on the door in case you try to close it. 

“I’ve been given instructions to take you. I am afraid I can’t leave without you.”

He looked almost sorry to say it. He must have been a district-born Peacekeeper. 

You take your hands off the door to show him you aren’t going to make it hard for him.

“Okay. I’ll turn the oven off and put on my shoes.” 

“It would be appreciated, Miss.” 

He waits by the door as you do as promised. 

Your mother had only just taken her medicine leaving her dazed but still awake. You decide to tell her you’re going for a walk instead of the truth.

The Peacekeeper is kind, waiting patiently by the door without sound. He smiles at you as you near him, ready.

You lock the door and follow the officer to the truck. 

You head to the empty bed of the truck but he continues to the passenger side door, holding it open for you. 

He looked awkward as he held it, “Ah which would you prefer?”

You smile at him and take his offer of sitting up front. He shows you how to work the seatbelt as he gets into the driver's seat. 

You thank him, telling him you’ve never been up front before. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I remember my first time in a car. I thought it was amazing.”

You do not share the same enthusiasm. Being in a car only meant you were going to or coming from Coriolanus. 

“I am Y/N,” you offer. 

“People call me Smiley.” You thought the name suited him. 

“How long have you been a Peacekeeper for, Smiley?”

“Oh for about three years. I was only a grunt for a year, though. Corio-Commander Snow promoted me to officer once he got back”.

Your head shot up to look at him, after his familiar way of talking about Coriolanus. Could a man like this be friends with a man like Coriolanus?

“Did you know Commander Snow before he was Commander?” You tried to act uninterested. 

“Oh yeah! I met him on his first day here.” 

You imagine Coriolanus in the blue uniform of a grunt, scared out of his mind. 

“Used to go with him to the Hob to watch Lucy Gray and the Covey perform. He used to sneak off to see her after the show,” he laughs at the fond memory but it sent ice down your veins.

He had told you he never even met her. You have zero doubt in your mind now that he was the one who killed her. 

“Shame about Lucy Gray,” you begin, “He must have been so sad when she disappeared.” 

Smiley nods his head, “I reckon the Mayor killed her in revenge. Both her old boyfriend and the Mayor's daughter he ran off with turned up dead. There’s no way she didn’t do it.”

You wondered if Coriolanus framed her for murder so no one would go looking for her once she disappeared. If he does the same to you, would your community believe it? The girl with the baked goods stall on a Saturday, a murderer? Would they believe that yet another girl tangled up with Coriolanus could be a killer?

“Maybe she didn’t do it,”, you test the waters, “Maybe she was framed.” 

Smiley laughs, “S’pose it’s possible, but she was no stranger to killing. She was the 10th victor of the Hunger Games.”

This information surprised you. You never went to the Reapings as you had a special pass that dubbed your work too important to be interrupted, and there were few working TVs in the district. And even fewer turned them on during the Hunger Games. 

Was that her appeal to Coriolanus, that she was tough enough to be a victor? Was her refusal of him now the reason he targeted your soft demeanor? 

“Victor of the Hunger Games and a Peacekeeper? How was that allowed?” 

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he laughs again, “I was bunk mates with him. I used to hear him sneak out. Always a romantic." 

You bite back the question wrangling your tongue; You don’t think that he is acting romantic now, do you?

Instead, you try learning more about Coriolanus. 

“What got him sent from the Capitol to District 12?” You couldn’t imagine such a self-important Capitol citizen would volunteer. 

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what got him sent back here as Commander.” Smiley answers honestly, “There was a rumor that he knew her in the Capitol. Helped her in the games, but I am not so sure I believe it. Why go through all of that, and then try to get yourself sent off to District 2 for officer training? He was always planning to get back to the Capitol. Why would he do that if the girl he sacrificed everything for was here? Makes no sense to me.”

The car is let into the gates of the Compound and Smiley slows the car down as it tracks through. 

“He’s over Lucy Gray though. Hasn’t mentioned her since he got back.” 

He says after a moment, like he was worried that you were getting jealous of Lucy Gray and not terrified that you would end up like Lucy Gray. 

The office building comes into view. It stood huge and white with unnaturally bright, clean, marble steps. 

He drives right up to the steps, stopping in front of a waiting Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus opens the door before you can and reaches over you to undo your seatbelt. It feels as if he yanks you down, but his touch is gentle and unharmful. 

“Thanks, Smiley.” It was the first time you had ever heard him thank one of his Peacekeepers. Smiley places a finger to his forehead and tips it back to Coriolanus before he drives off. 

“Hey,” he breathes. He takes your shoulders into his hands and kisses you quickly. 

You don’t greet him back, still frozen from the talk with Smiley. 

Coriolanus doesn’t notice as he leads you to his office with a hand on your shoulder. 

He seemed eager to get into the room. His pace was quick and he only gave head nods to passersby who greeted him. 

He sighs as he closes the door to his office. His hand goes to the back of your neck briefly before disappearing altogether. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says like you had a choice. 

He continues his quick pace over to the couch against the wall and pats the spot next to him. 

You sit down and to your shock, he lays down across it.

He lays his head on your lap as he talks. It wasn’t enough for him as he forced your hand over his chest. 

“This week,” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, “I wish it would just end.” 

He throws his hands off his face to speak clearly, “First Tigris said that she was going to quit her job, but I called her last night, and she decided she’s not going to.”

“Tigris? Is that your girl back home?” You remembered his distaste for working women. Because she was Capitol, was she subject to better treatment than you and Lucy Gray, or did he have plans to frame her for murder as well? 

“No,” he said firmly, “No, she’s my cousin. You’re my girl.”

“Hm,” you change the topic quickly, “Surely not enough to ruin your week.”

Coriolanus seemed pleased with the attention and continued. 

“I have the Commander from District 4 visiting this week. He’s not out of the car two minutes before one of the new recruits shoots himself in the foot, right in front of him.” 

You scoff back a giggle at the image, and he manages a smile back. 

“He’s a pain, this Commander. Constantly after me. He’s heard I have a close relationship with Strabo Plinth and thinks I’ll help him make a connection.”

“Who’s-” he interrupts you before you finish. 

“I’ll tell you another time.” 

You scoff at him, “Another secret.” 

He shifts so he is lying on his side towards you. 

“It’s not a secret. It’s just complicated.” The whole Capitol knows about the district-turned-Capitol citizen fulfilling the father's role in Coriolanus' life. He would prefer to keep the clean image with you. 

“Am I here for a reason, Commander Snow?”

“All I’ve wanted this week was to see you.” 

You shift uncomfortably under him. A look of distress crossed your face. 

“What’s wrong?” he sits up beside you. 

“Am I the next Lucy Gray?” 

“Ah! Lucy Gray,” he mutters, “If I hear that name again.” 

He gets up to give himself distance from you, going over to his desk and leaning against it with his hands.  

“Don’t deny it. Smiley told me you used to sneak off to see her after the shows.”

“I once had to carry Smiley back to the compound because he was so drunk he forgot how to walk. But you want to take his word over mine?” 

“Yes. You’re a liar. Is Tigris really your cousin?” 

He throws his hands up, astonished at the question. “Yes. I have a cousin and a Grandmother waiting for me in the Capitol. Both of which you will meet when we get back to the Capitol.”

“We?” You felt your heart stop. 

He turns his head to you.

“Yes, we. Did you think I was going to leave you behind?” 

“I can’t go to the Capitol. I belong here.” You think of your mother and Edmund. 

His jaw clenched but his movements are slow as they come towards you. 

“I belong in the Capitol. You belong with me. As soon as Ravinstill dies, we are on the first train out of District 12.”

What would happen to you once he got bored of you in the Capitol? In District 12 he would cast you out into familiar streets but would he even bother to get you back home once he decided you were no longer worth the time? 

You shake your head no and he takes your face between his hands. 

“You’ll like the Capitol, I promise. Pretty dresses. Food. You and Tigris will become fast friends.”

“What about my mother?’’

“We’ll send her money. She’ll be alright without you.” 

“Coriolanus, no.” His name felt funny coming out of your mouth. 

He adjusts to a more menacing position; his fingers tightened on your face, his body stiffened into a hard stance over you and his eyes squinted down on you. 

“Do you honestly think you have a say in the matter?.” 

You begin to cry “Please, I can’t go to the Capitol.”

He softens under your tears, the tight hold on your face turns gentle, and he drops himself to your height. 

“I know this is your home, but you will be happy in the Capitol. I’ll make you happy in the Capitol.” 

He won’t ever have to hear the name ‘Lucy Gray’ again and you’ll never have to keep wondering if you’ll have the same fate as her.

The buzzing from his desk saved you from any more useless begging. 

He looked visibly annoyed at the interruption but answered it anyway. 

Releasing you with a sigh, he walks over to his desk and presses a little button. 

“Yes?” Coriolanus answers. 

“Sir, Commander Bonza is looking for you.” The female voice spoke over the intercom. 

“Show him to the conference room. I’ll be right there.”

He comes back over to you, taking your shoulder in his hand. 

“Just stay here. I’ll only be an hour.” He leads you back over to the couch and you take a seat. “I’ll have them bring in tea.” 

He doesn’t look back as he leaves the room. 

You left as soon as you thought it safe enough to do so. 

You try not to run to avoid looking suspicious but your quick pace could not be slowed. You had to get out of the compound. 

A few stare at you as you pass but don’t try to stop you.

The gate opens freely, and you turn back to ensure you aren’t being chased

As you enter the dirt track back to the district, you hear your name being called. 

Emerging out of the trees, Edmund stands tall in his worn jacket. 

You throw your arms around his shoulders and allow yourself to be kept upright by him. 

“What happened? Are you alright?” He frantically asks.

“What are you doing here?” You shot back a question of your own. 

“I saw the Peacekeeper van take off with you. Look here” he shows you the hand-held wire cutters he held, “I was coming to get you. I promise, you weren’t alone”. 

He pockets the cutters to use his hands to wipe away your running tears, “What happened? Did he hurt you?” 

You shake your head no, pulling yourself back to his chest. 

“The Capitol,” you cry, “He plans to take me back to the Capitol.” 

“What? Why?”

The sound of a Peacekeeper van approaches and he pulls you back into the trees. 

“We have to go to the mountains. We’ll take your mother, and I’ll pick up more shifts. We’ll be alright, okay? I promise”. 

You cling to him as the car rolls past, certain that they are going to jump from their van and rip you from him. 

“And if he finds us?” you ask. 

Edmund brings his hand up to the back of your head, “He won’t. But if he does, then I’ll kill him.”

You look up at his beautiful, serious face. You knew he would kill for you and you knew you would do the same for him. But Commander Snow had too much power over District 12. Even just mentioning that you wanted to kill him could have you and anyone you have ever talked to hanged. But he wasn’t going to be Commander Snow forever. 

President Ravinstill will die and Commander Snow will become Candidate Snow. 

He won’t have time to chase you up the mountains. He’ll be on the first train out to shake hands and kiss babies. 

You tell Edmund this. Going up to the mountains too early would only get you all killed. It was better to wait for the announcement of the President's death and take off then. That way you might only have to hide from Peacekeepers who don’t really care.

He would get busy with his election and forget about the girl from District 12. And you in turn would forget about Commander Snow. 

Edmund disagreed. You need to move now. But with your mother in her fragile condition, you doubted she could even make it up to the cabins. And with Coriolanus occupied with the other commander, it would allow for more time to prepare for the move.

This argument won him over even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

You knew him well enough to know that when he told you that he ‘had to get you home’, what he really meant was, ‘You’re right. We should wait. We can’t let our fear take over our sensibility’. 

As you walked back home, you clung to his arm. He must have found it difficult to walk as you wrapped yourself around his arm but he made no complaint the whole journey. In fact, he said nothing the entire journey about anything, and you made no attempts to change that. Happily walking in silence. 

You were almost disappointed when you had to release him on your front porch. 

‘‘I have to go home, but I’ll be right back. I’ve got my brother waiting for me to take him hunting.”

“Why would you be right back then?”

“You want me to stay, don’t you? After today.” 

“No.” You could almost laugh at his words if they weren’t going to make you cry. 

“No. You should go with your brother. I’m fine. And Commander Snow won’t be back tonight if he’s seen me today.” 

You brush your hands down the breast of his coat. 

“If you bring me back a squirrel. I’ll make you squirrel stew.” 

You smile up at him to see him already smiling down at you. 

“You’ve got a deal, little lady.” His hands cup your elbows as he turns stoic again, “Are you sure you will be alright?” 

You had been through so much worse just weeks prior. 

You nod your head yes. “Look, can you go? I don’t want your brother to hate me.” 

He smiles once more showcasing his slightly crooked front tooth. 

“Never” he promises, “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow yeah?”

“Through-”

“Through the back door, yeah yeah. I know.” 

He moves his hands from your elbows and grips your shoulders instead, stooping his head down to you. “I do love you. You know that, right? I always have, and I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 

You were unsure of how to respond. ‘I love you too’ seemed appropriate but you weren’t sure if they meant the same thing anymore. He takes the words out of your mouth when he kisses you.

You kiss back. His lips felt softer than Coriolanus’. His kiss is much more gentle and less needy. You wished it was your first kiss but that now belonged forevermore to Coriolanus. This would just have to go down as your first real kiss. 

Still the longer it lasted, the louder the sound of a firing squad sounded. He pulled back just before you did. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he offers. 

“Goodnight, Edmund.” 

You watch him track back down the steps and into the darkness. 

You felt stunned that he had kissed you. That you had kissed him back and enjoyed it. 

Your brother would be mortified. But no more mortified, you supposed, than the kisses received from Coriolanus. 

The rush of the kiss doesn’t wear off as you enter your home. You reimage it as you sit at the kitchen table. 

When Coriolanus kissed you, it almost hurt. They never came singular but again and again, until something else called him off. 

But at least you knew he meant it. 

Edmund's kiss was almost unsure. 

Your brother's best friend had always held a special place in your heart but could it grow into seeing him as a separate man? As your man? 

You wonder if he was thinking the same thing. If somehow he got confused amongst the pressure and took his love for you as something more. 

Would he have kissed you any other way, for any other reason, if Commander Snow wasn’t in the picture? After he was gone would Edmund kiss you again, or flee into work from pure embarrassment? 

A soft knock at the door interrupted your sprailing. 

Thinking it was Edmund again, you rush to the door. Had he come to prove that the kiss was intentional and that he planned to continue his affections after Coriolanus? 

As you opened the door, you readied yourself for another kiss. But your boss was not ready to give you one. 

You stare at her surprised. She wore her normal gray dress and black boots but carried a moonshine bottle in her hand. 

“Miss Escot.” You state. 

“You ain’t come around. Figured I’ll come to you.” She steps forward to indicate her intentions of coming in and you step aside to let her.  

“So, was it everything you dreamed of?” She laughs as she enters. 

“You were wrong.” 

She spins to you, shocked, “So he ain’t touched you.”

You felt your face turn hot and red as the subject came up. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Right, so he just ain’t fucked you, yet.” She looks surprised, almost worried. She turns back around and places the bottle on the kitchen table. 

“I was wondering why you hadn’t come running back to me for a job.” 

She sighs, sitting down on a chair that had its backing almost ripped out during the raid. 

“Get two glasses.”

You do as she asks, bringing them to the table but she doesn’t unscrew the drink. 

“He plans to take me back to the Capitol,” you admit. 

“You don’t plan to go do you?”

“Of course not.” 

“Strange man. You don’t take whores home.”

You flinch at the word but knew she meant no offense. 

“So,” she uncorks the bottle and splashes the liquid out into the glasses, “What’s your plan?”

You had thought about telling her about yours and Edmund’s plan but didn’t fully trust her enough. 

“I don’t know.” 

Your boss laughs, throwing her head back. 

“I can’t believe after all that, all he wants to do is a little roughhousing.” 

“He ain't touched me. I told you.” You insist. 

She stops laughing, “Save it for when your hickeys aren’t on display.” 

You pull your dress to hide your neckline. The heat from the embarrassment steams your face.

“So you gonna kill him?” She asks.

“Why do you care what I plan to do.” 

“Because I would hate to see you hanged and that’s what gonna happen if you try”. 

“I am not going to try to kill him, and he aint taking me back.” 

“Big words from a small girl,” your boss mocked, “Sometimes you just have to know when you’ve been beat.” 

“I would rather die then-”

“Commander Snow.” Your boss spoke in a loud hard tone, and you turned to see him in the doorway. 

A chill ran up your spine. He still wore the same hard expression from his office. 

He leaves the door open as he walks in, keeping his eyes on you. 

He turns to your little boss, glaring at her, but he keeps his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Not here to offer her a job are you?”

“Of course not, sir. Just visiting.” It was the first time you had ever heard your boss speak respectfully to someone intimidating her. 

“Just leaving,” he orders. 

“Yes, sir,” she agrees. He passes the bottle of moonshine to her, not wanting it left on the table for you. 

She rushes away with it in her hands but he calls out to her as she walks. 

“Oh, you weren’t the friend hiding in the cupboard the other day were you?” 

She turns to answer him but her face reads that she was surprised by his accusation. 

You mentally plead with her to say yes. She must have seen it through your wide eyes. 

“Yes, sir. I am sorry, sir”. 

You were sure the words tasted like acid coming out of her mouth. She shrinks as he stalks towards her, grabbing her by the shoulder and tossing her out. 

“Don’t come back again” He shuts the door on her

He comes back over to you.

“Imagine my surprise when I came back to find you had gone”. 

“I have to check on my mother.”

He pulls you back by your arm, “There you go again. Running away.”

“No, sir.”

“Back to sir now?”

He pushes you down into a chair and you catch yourself on its arms.

You go to get up again, making an excuse about dinner but he puts his hand out. 

“Don’t,” he warns. 

He leans over you in the chair, and you shrink back as far as you can. 

“You shouldn’t have left today.”

You nod your head, unsure of what to say. 

“Say you’re sorry,” he demands. 

‘‘I am sorry.” 

“And you’ll do anything to make it up to me.” 

His face was inches from you, if you moved a centimeter you could brush against his nose.

“Sure,” you grit. If you had learned anything, he could make you do what he wanted anyway. 

“There’s a public hanging tomorrow, I would like for you to be there”. 

“Yes, Sir”. You said a silent prayer that it was no one you knew. 

Coriolanus picks up the cups from the table and douses the floor with the moonshine. 

“And I don’t ever want you around that woman again. She’s a bad influence”.

“Yes, Sir” you doubted she would ever be back again anyway. You doubted that while Coriolanus was around, you would ever see a friendly face again.

—-----

Simley picked you up again the next morning but refused to utter a word to you. 

It was a terrible feeling. You had just hoped Coriolanus had only given him a firm talking to. You now wished you hadn’t said anything to get him into trouble.

You were dropped off at the gate of the Compound this time where it was a Peacekeeper who escorted you from the car into Coriolanus’ office. 

He was not there and did not turn up as the day went on. 

The door only opened once and it was a young girl who brought in your lunch. 

You watched from the window as the Peacekeepers set up for the hanging. The grunts laid the infrastructure of the stage and barricades while the higher-ups went around with vicious-looking dogs and metal detectors. 

It was late afternoon by the time the blue uniforms came off and the official Peacekeeper uniforms were worn by everyone. They took their positions with rifles in the watchtowers, and the other Peacekeepers formed a line across the stage. It gave them a view of the takeaway metal fence that separated the divide between the stage and the audience, leaving a small gap for a family member to come grab the shoes. They chatted amongst themselves as they waited for the gate to be swung wide for the public. 

A knock on the door told you that it wasn't Coriolanus. A Peacekeeper poked his head through the door and asked you to come with him. 

You follow him out to where Coriolanus stood in front of the stage, speaking to a man dressed in a similar uniform. 

You waited with the guard until he was finished. He takes your hand in his as he nears and dismisses the Peacekeeper. 

“They are just about to open the gate,” he says. He takes you to the front of the where the audience would stand, taking his cuffs out, he clips one against your wrist and another onto the metal fence. It was the spot directly in front of the microphone in which he was to speak into in a few moments. 

You pulled against it feeling embarrassed. You were like a dog that was chained to a post. 

 “Watch me up there,” he instructs. 

He walks up the stage, saying a few words to an officer already up there. The officer pulls out a communicator from his pocket and must have given the go ahead as the gates swung wide and the people began to trickle in. 

You took the scarf out of your hair and layed it across the chain. No one needed to know whose dog you were. 

People soon surrounded you as the small area filled. Someone important must be getting hung today. 

Coriolanus begins the opening remarks about the greatness of Panem, and the need to strive for a better future for all of us. It was a speech he repeated a hundred times and never held any meaning to him. You could see the same Commander from before standing up on stage behind him. He looked gleeful to be there and you shared Coriolanus’ same distaste for the man.

He returns to the cards as he reads out the first convicted man. 

They bring him out from the prison as Coriolanus speaks, known as the dead man’s walk. 

The man was crying softly as they forced him up the steps and onto the box. He was in his late 50’s and underfed. The peacekeepers easily got the noose around his neck despite his fight against it.

“For the betterment of Panem, and the safety of the Districts you, Benjamin Harrison, are sentenced to death”. 

The box is kicked from under him and you shut your eyes until the sound of flailing feet stops. 

They drop the body like it was nothing, but the peacekeepers allow a moment for a family member to take his shoes. No one does, and the body is dragged off stage. 

You feel the crowd rustle behind you as someone makes their way to the front. They all tried to be quiet from the disruption as Coriolanus read the next name and charge. No one wanted to be caught disrespecting the Commander, and be the next name called up. 

The person finds their way to the front, beside you. You don’t look at them, keeping your eyes focused on Coriolanus who sporadically looked up to ensure you were watching him. 

“What a lovely day for a hanging.”

You recognised the voice but you still had to look to believe it.

“Edmund,” you grit through your teeth, “What are you doing here!”

“You’re not alone, remember?”

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, but you can feel his fingertips brush yours while Coriolanus is busy reading out the charges.

You were thankful he was there, despite the danger of it. There was nothing more you hated than attending the death of another. 

You could feel Coriolanus’ stare upon you and you made a note to look back at him. 

Another man walks onto the stage with a solemn look. He is hanged without fuss and without tears. 

Edmund seemed to know him as the box was kicked, his hands latched onto the bars of the fence, and he let out a ‘tsk’.

You lower your hand and take hold of his pant leg. The small connection made you feel safer under the gaze of the Commander. You were sure he couldn’t see your hold. There were too many bodies pressed together to really work out whose hand belonged to whom.

A woman in her early 40’s was called out next and she pleaded and begged but the peacekeeper wouldn’t even look at her. She mentioned something about her son before the box was kicked out from her and the words were strangled in her throat.

Coriolanus paused upon the next name and for once he actually had your real attention. 

He clears his throat and his voice comes back strong, “Victor Tatin, a rebel and an informant to his higher-ups.”

They bring out a small boy. Doubtful he even had his name in the draw for the Hunger Games and yet still being killed by the Capitol. The shackles were too big for him and he tripped and stumbled as he walked. Edmund's hand clamped down on yours.

“Victor was the main distributor of anti-Capitol propaganda, who used his position as an errand boy here at the Compound to report back to those who wish the district harm.” 

The boy is lifted up onto the stage as the stairs prove too difficult to climb in his chains.

"For this crime, and for the betterment of Panem, and the safety of the districts, you, Victor Tatin, are sentenced to death.” 

You cry out as two boxes are moved from under him, and the small boy stops his tears. 

You look up to Edmund who had fury in his eyes. 

Coriolanus steps away from the microphone, watching as they gently lower the dead boy to the ground.

The Commander of District 4 takes the opportunity to say a few words himself. 

“Let it be known that all rebels will be caught and be brought to justice. There is nowhere to hide, and no comfort to be provided. All rebels and sympathizers will be hanged!”. 

Coriolanus retakes the microphone and wraps up the event with a statement of what was to be done with the bodies, and how the Capitol is rewarding the information given with a food drive occurring in the middle of town the next morning. 

As people left as fast as they came, you were forced to tear your hand away from Edmund. 

“Come on,” he turns to follow the crowd but you can’t. 

You check to see that Coriolanus has his back turned to talk to his officers, and you take the chance to show Edmund the cuff around your wrist. 

“He wants me to stay” you explain. 

Edmund tugs the chain as if he had the strength to break it. 

“Go,” you demand, seeing Coriolanus turn his shoulders back. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he promises. 

You were alone again but felt better for knowing that every second that passed brought you closer to meeting Edmund on the track back home. 

Coriolanus remained on stage but another peacekeeper came to undo your cuffs and accompany you back to his office. 

You break down in tears even before the door is closed. You knew the image of the small boy would haunt you. You couldn’t imagine what it would do to Coriolanus. 

Is that why he brought you here? To offer him comfort for his crimes. 

He doesn’t collect it in a reasonable time frame. You are left waiting for two hours before he comes to you. 

He looked frail as he entered. His hat had disappeared, and his commander's jacket was folded over his arm. It left him in his gray trousers and formal light blue dress shirt. 

“Everyone is gone,” he comments, throwing his jacket on the couch and walking over to where you sat in the guest chair. 

You stand as he comes closer to let him know no comfort would be given. 

“He was only a boy,” you whisper. Coriolanus nods his head in agreement. 

“I tried to send him to the Capitol as an Avox but Commander Bonza was determined to see him hang”. 

You wondered if it was a small mercy. Life as an Avox was a fate worse than death. Still, he was so small they had to use two boxes to prop him up on the stage. 

“You could have stopped it. You’re the Commander of District 12, not him.” 

Coriolanus sighs, sitting down in his chair, “And have Commander Bonza think I was weak against rebels? I need his support in the presidential run.”

“He was just a boy.” You repeat, the tears spilling freely from your eyes. 

“I know, Y/N. I know.” You could see he was getting wound up. 

“Come here,” he directs. Deciding not to push him too far, you do and he sits you on the desk in front of him. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head into your side. 

“He cried for his mother in the holding cell”. 

Coriolanus remembered crying for his mother on nights when the pain in his stomach from hunger was too much to bear. It felt almost therapeutic now to hear you cry for the boy. In a way, you were crying for Coriolanus too. 

He holds you close for his own comfort. 

“They don’t hang children in the Capitol. You’ll never have to see it again.”

You wanted to make the argument that they shouldn’t hang here but his temper was short, and your tears wouldn’t stop flowing. 

Instead, you let him hold you, gently rubbing his back. You were surprised after all the terrible things he had done that this was the burden he struggled to carry. 

He seemed content to lay against you as you comforted him. It seemed crazy to you that you were, but you felt so shallow that you allowed your default mode to take over. Besides, the sooner he felt better the sooner you could meet up with Edmund for your own comfort. 

The time passed quickly with no movement or sound from Coriolanus. 

The clock on the wall read 6:30. You decide enough time has passed to make your escape. 

“I have to go, Commander.” You rise from him but he keeps your waist in his hands.

“Stay,” he begs

You shake your head. 

“Please, just for tonight.” 

“I have to get home to my mother.”

“Tomorrow will you stay?”

“No. I can’t.” 

“You can,” he contests, “You just won’t”. 

“My mother needs me.” You tear his hands off him and he shoots out of his chair. 

“She should get used to your absence.”

“I am not going to the Capitol.” You seethe. 

“I don’t know where else you think you are going.” 

You turn to leave but he yanks you back.

“No, no. I need you to stay.” 

“Get off of me,” you demand.

“You’re not leaving me.” 

You repeat your demand and shove him harshly off you.

“You’re telling me no? After everything I’ve done for you?” he squints his eyes at you. 

“If you don’t stay with me, you can forget about food for the next month.” 

You freeze at his words. There wasn’t enough food to last a month. Maybe ten days. You would properly be ok with your saved money and Edmunds hunting, but it would be a dead give-away that you had other means beside him. 

You stop struggling against him, and his grip loosens on you. 

“Stop acting like this, alright?”

His hands go to the side of your face and he tugs you closer. 

“We are on the same side. It wasn’t my decision to kill the boy but it was something I had to do.  You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you? Can’t you act like that? Even just for tonight?”

His desperation was a dangerous thing so you nodded your head. The last time you ran from him after a hanging, he was so hurt, he made your life a living hell for months. You worried what he would do now that he has left you destitute and dependent on him. You had nothing more he could take, but the whipping post remained. 

Your complacency returns him to a less manic state. His tired eyes soften, and his body falls back to the defeated state that he came in with. 

“Okay,” he says softly and takes your hand. 

He leads you back to his apartment with your hand in his. It was small but well-built. Everything was hard metal from the floors to the dining room table. He had a small kitchen space straight to the left with an old fridge. Directly across from it, separated by the hallway was a living space that only consisted of a worn green couch facing a mounted tv, and a small table with a radio on top. 

“It’s not much,” he comments. 

You had been to houses without roofs. This seemed like a palace. 

He leads you into the center of the room, “Kitchen,” he points, “Ah, living room”. 

Taking you down the hallway he opens the first door on the right, “That’s the bathroom”. 

You peek into the small space to see a shower and a toilet. 

He reaches for the door just down to the left and reveals his bedroom. The bed was unmade and there wasn’t a single personal item left lying around. Apart from the bed and a standing wardrobe, there was nothing else in the fairly spacious room. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

You shake your head no. You weren’t sure you could stomach anything after today. 

He takes you back to the bathroom, “Why don’t you take a shower and we’ll go to bed?” 

“Towel,” he places a hand on a white towel hanging up on a hook, and then opens the mirror to show three shelves, “Toothpaste and my toothbrush”. 

Everything he offered was already something he used. You knew he at least had another towel to offer you but he wanted to share everything. 

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you to change into.” 

“Thanks,” you knew he wanted to hear it. 

He smiles and kisses your cheek before leaving.

 The steam from the shower began to fill the room by the time you made yourself take off your clothes and get in. You noticed there was no lock on the door, and you were expecting him to come back. 

He never did or at least you never noticed him. While most of the shower was just spent leaning against the wall. You did feel refreshed having fresh teeth. 

Wrapping the towel around yourself you check outside the door. Both the kitchen light and the bedroom light were on. 

If he was waiting in the bedroom you could just take the clothes and return to the bathroom. But only the clothes he promised sat on the bed. One of his white t-shirts, and a pair of boxers. 

It covered you mostly. You place your clothes and boots at the end of the bed and return the towel to the hook. 

You found him eating in the kitchen after you had done. He was eating mince from a bowl, his appetite now returned from killing a young boy. 

He grins at you as he chews. 

It makes you feel self-conscious. 

“I am going to go to sleep,” you state, although you have little hope of actually sleeping. 

“Okay. I’ll join you soon,” he takes another bite. 

You turn back to the bedroom. You even managed to lay down in the dark room but you found yourself too preoccupied with what he was doing to succumb to sleep. You could hear the shower running. What you couldn’t see was him pressed up against the glass, his forehead resting against it next to his hand while he jerked himself off. He couldn’t enter that bedroom with you without releasing first. He imagined it though. Climbing on top of you and sliding his hands under his shirt that you wore. You wouldn’t fight him but invite him closer, letting him have free roam of your body. You would beg for it. Beg him to continue. Beg him to take you back to the Capitol with him. 

He spills out onto his hand. After that, he washes himself clean and readies himself for bed. 

He worries about waking you as he enters the bedroom in nothing but a towel.  

You can almost feel him searching for his clothes. Normally he slept in only his underwear too tired to change at the end of the day, but this time he searches for his disregarded pajama bottoms. He can faintly see the blue stripes from the light outside the door and yanks them from the pile. He doesn’t bother looking for the matching top, just taking a white t-shirt from a stack. He liked that he was matching you. 

 You think he is going to undress in front of you but he takes his clothes back to the bathroom to change. 

The lights turn off and Coriolanus sneaks back into the room. He is slow as he moves down into the sinking bed, careful of waking you. 

You shuffle to let him know you are still awake. His movements turn less careful as he settles. He stills for a second but turns quickly towards you. 

He leans over you, taking the wrist you were lying against and tugging it over himself so he was being spooned. He buries your hand under his cheek and you can feel his breaths against it. 

You wonder if Edmund was still waiting outside of the Compound for you or if he had realized you weren’t coming and had gone home to his family. He’d stay. He was stubborn. 

You hoped your mother was asleep and unaware of your absence. She was only taking her morphling at night but it kept her asleep for 14 hours at a time. If she had taken it at her normal time, you should be home well before she wakes up tomorrow. 

Coriolanus’ scent fills your nose. It was oddly comforting. Every time you breathed it would come rushing up invading your senses. You could only feel him, only smell him. You went to sleep with Coriolanus surrounding you. 

—------

The beeping of an alarm clock woke your restful sleeping. 

You sit up, half unsure of what it was at first. It was Coriolanus who turned it off, but he rolled back over on the bed. 

“What time is it?” you ask. 

Coriolanus sighs, resting a hand over his eyes, “6:30.”

He looked exhausted but rose anyway. His movements were sluggish as he stood from the bed and leaned across it to flatten the bed sheet over you. You toss it off as he did. 

“Go back to sleep”. 

You tell him you’re already up and rise from the bed. 

He was too tired to argue so he went about his morning routine. He takes a fresh uniform out of the cupboard and tells you he’ll be back. 

You dress back in your clothes too. Feeling better for it. 

You make your way to the main area and hear the tap running in the bathroom. 

After not eating dinner, your hunger bore a hole in your stomach. 

You check the fridge to find it is surprisingly bare. Two metal trays sit on top of each other, the food was mainly in tack but you could see small bits torn off. A half-bitten sausage, the grease of where food once sat on the small metal compartment. You unravel tin foil and find a half loaf of pre-cut bread. 

You smell the leftover food, judging it right for consumption. 

It takes you a bit to find your bearings in the kitchen. The top cupboard held food staples; flour, salt and pepper, oil. While the bottom cupboards held the pots and pans. There were only a few and they were worn down by the years. 

They cook just the same, and you fry the mashed potato that was left, and reheat the sausages. 

Coriolanus returns to the kitchen with his Commander jacket in his hand. He looked surprised to find you cooking. 

He drapes the jacket over the back of one chair as he speaks, “I was about to go to the mess hall and bring something back but that smells too good to pass up.” 

He comes over to you and stands behind you with his hands on your hips, placing a kiss to your cheek. You dip the stale bread in the grease of the sausages and fry it.

“Thank you.” 

You were pretty sure it was the first ‘thank you’ you had ever received from him. You rack your brain for another time but only his hits and threats come to mind. 

You stand silent. He was not welcomed to your cooking.

He moves from you at his own free will and goes to a small black machine on the kitchen counter. He is rough as he sets it up. 

Dark liquid pours out and the smell of coffee battles with the smell of oil. 

The first sips pleases him, and he turns to see you looking at him.

He offers you a drink from his coffee cup but you refuse it. 

“Can you get the plates from the top? I can’t reach them”.

He does as you ask, bringing down two white plates and setting them on the counter. He reshuffled the items in the cupboard, so the plates were on the bottom shelf where you could reach. 

You don’t talk further as you plate up the items and take them to the table. You place them opposite to each other, sitting down before he could move them. 

You eat quickly while Coriolanus takes his time to chew. 

He takes a break from his food and has another sip of coffee.

“You see those pants,” he nods to the folded pile of gray pants on the chair and you nod, “Can you iron them for me?” 

It wasn’t a request so you confirmed you would. 

“And my shoes need to be shined for tomorrow.” 

“Sure,” you grit before softening your voice, “After that, I was thinking I would go home to my mother. She needs her next morphling dose soon.”

You have not told him that your mother was now only on one bottle a day. He would properly stop the supply altogether if he knew and you needed the money from selling the extra bottles. 

Your real concern is that she would wake up and find you still not home. 

Coriolanus takes a bite of his sausage, he looked to be thinking about your request. 

 “That’s fine,” he finally said. 

He looks at his watch on his wrist before getting up and placing his dish in the sink. 

“It’s Commander Bonza’s last night here. He wants a farewell ceremony. If you hear gunfire that’s all it is.” 

He turns back to you and takes his jacket off the chair and slips it onto himself. 

“I’ll visit when he is finally gone.” 

You nod. At least you will be back on your own turf. Here you felt like an intruder. 

He lifts your chin and kisses you before leaving. 

You remained at the table but he could hear you had gone to wash the dishes as he closed the door. 

His hand stilled. What if he needed you during the day? What if he managed to break away from the attention of Commander Bonza and could come back?

He wondered what you would do back home. Your mother would be close to dead. Would you bake? Go for another walk?

He felt sour. You were more important here than you were there. 

Here at least he knew what you were doing. You were washing dishes, ironing, taking care of him. 

If he let you roam free over the district, who knew what you were doing or who you were talking to? 

The metal pan clanged as he twisted the lock with his key. 

It was Commander Bonza’s last day, he couldn’t be distracted by these thoughts. Today he just needed the comfort of knowing you were here for him. 

—

You rush through your chores without noticing the locked door. You find the laundry room next door to the bathroom and come across a stack of neatly folded towels. Shaking your head you grab the iron from the built-in white shelf and take it back to the living room where you had more space. 

You finish the pants in no time but the shoes proved hard to shine. When you finally got them bright enough it was nearly 9 o’clock. Your mother would be awake soon and the walk home was still 20 minutes. 

The cold that shoots through you when the door fails to open was one of the worst feelings you had ever felt. You yell, bang, and twist at the door but it remains unopened. 

You wait, thinking that maybe he wanted to ensure that the work was done before letting you leave. But lunchtime passes and he doesn’t return. 

You try wedging the door open with a butter knife but it bends the metal. The windows were sealed shut in the air-controlled room, and there was no back door that you could try. 

From the window, you could see a group of Peacekeepers carrying a long and heavy wooden table. You bang on the window, gaining their attention. 

They freeze as if you were a ghost before moving on. 

—-

The ceremony turned into a party. You did hear the sound of saluting gun fire in the late afternoon but soon after it, you would hear the faint sound of music and dancing. Peacekeepers had strung lights across the compound. They were round and shone a dim yellow. 

As night fell they became the only light over the place. You still were sat at the window, waiting for Commander Snow to return and release you. 

Your mind drove you mad. Images of your mother crying out for you. Trying to walk on her own causing herself harm. She would definitely be up by now. Would Edmund tell her where you were or would he try to shield her from the truth?

She would be by herself surely. He would have had to return home to his own family. She would be by herself, worried sick. She wouldn’t believe Edmund no matter how good of a lie he told. You could picture her in bed with her sore back, crying. 

By the time Coriolanus finally arrived home, you were a bilthering mess. 

He drops his keys at the door and comes rushing over to you. 

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t catch your breath through your tears. 

“Hey, what happened?” he brushes your tears away with his thumbs.

You bash him in his chest for his dumb question. 

“My mother,” you gasp between tears, “I need to go home. She needs me.” 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, ‘I’ll take you now.” 

He takes your wrist into his hand and leads you out of his apartment. He doesn’t bother to lock the door. There was nothing to steal anyway, and the men here weren’t stupid enough to try. 

You could hear the men over the music as you walked through the compound. Coriolanus must have left early. 

A few Peacekeepers hid in dark corners smoking, only the light of the cigarette giving them away. You passed two, who scrambled back trying to go unnoticed as they carried their drunk friend back to the barricades. 

Coriolanus doesn’t notice any of it. Or at least he pretends not to. You noticed he was far more observant then he led on.  

He takes you to a two-story building that still had people working inside. He doesn’t take you in but around the back to a large shed that housed the cars. 

He walks along a row of cars before coming to an acceptable one. It was a common patrolling car, with a cage in the back for rebels. 

He looks at the number painted on the side, and leaves you by the passengers door. 

“Wait here. I’ll go get the keys.”

“Hurry,” you tell him but it places no pep in his step. 

There was no way she would have been able to eat anything. Her morphling dose was due hours ago. Even if she managed to get up. She wouldn’t be able to eat from the pain. 

You thought about just leaving him and trying to sprint back to the house. But even with his slow pace the car would be faster. You were outraged by him. You were under the illusion that if you played to his wants, you could continue with your life with minimal distribution. But there was no leniency with him. He had a child-like temper. There was no give and take, there was only take with him. 

He does return moments later with the keys and opens the passengers door to let you in. 

“I’m sure she is fine,” he says as he buckles his own seat belt. 

You don’t speak to him the whole journey, despite his attempts. 

The only sound you made was upon seeing the red sign that marked the beginning of your community.

He parks outside of your house and you rush to get inside. 

“Mum,” you called out before you had even opened the unlocked door.

You gasp as you see Edmund standing in your kitchen. He looked just as shocked to see you. 

“Where have you been!” he demanded. 

You try and shoo him, but Coriolanus was only two steps behind you. 

You feel a protective hand go on top of your shoulder. 

“She’s been with me. Who are you?”

“He’s the maintenance man.” You lie. 

You feel Coriolanus’ hand tighten on your shoulder. Edmund knew the danger he was in. One wrong move and he would be sent to the noose the next morning. 

“I was just fixing some damage in the roof. The door was open and I heard her mother calling out,” he showcases a couple of tools on the bench. You thank God that he did actually take the time out today to fix something, “Normally, Y/N is here. I got worried when she wasn’t.”

“And she planned to pay you with what? She has no money.” 

“Food!” You call out, “I make food for his family in exchange.”

Coriolanus looked unsure but had no other proof he could object with. 

“Go tend to your mother. I’ll make sure the work is finished.” Coriolanus ordered. 

Torn, you don’t make a move. The sole purpose of your trip was to ensure that your mother was okay but you weren’t sure if you could leave Coriolanus and Edmund in the same room. 

“No need. I took care of her. She’s asleep now”. 

“All day? What a loyal friend”.

“Yeah, well someone had to look out for her.” 

Coriolanus takes a step forward, positioning his body so it hides you behind it. 

“Coriolanus Snow.” He held out a hand to shake. 

“Commander Snow, you mean. The mighty Commander of District 12” Edmund holds his hands out in front of him, “I am unworthy to shake such a hand”. 

Coriolanus keeps a still face as he withdraws his hand. 

“That might be true,” Coriolanus shakes his finger at Edmund in an accusing manner, “Didn’t I see you next to my girl at the hanging?” 

Edmund shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve stood next to many people, at many hangings. It all begins to merge into one.”

“I know what you mean,” Coriolanus agrees. 

Talk of hanging makes you nervous. 

“Coriolanus,” you pressed your hand against his shoulder and urged him forward,“How about I make you a cup of tea?” 

He lets you push him to the table, and sit him down.

“Sure.” He answers but his eyes remain locked on Edmund as if he was the unwanted guest. 

You felt better with him sitting. It would at least give Edmund a head start if Coriolanus decided to attack.

“I’ll have one too” Edmund states, turning with you into the kitchen but you stop him with a hand. 

“No” you state, pulling items out of the fridge and placing them into Edmunds hands, “You’ve got to get home. That wife of yours must be cursing your name.” 

Edmund silently begs you to let him stay with his big brown eyes. But you couldn’t. He had to leave before he got himself killed. 

Coriolanus on the other hand looked smug. He sat proud and upright in his chair.

“I’ll show you the door.” Coriolanus looks to get up, and you feel a rush of panic go through you. 

“No need. I built it!” Edmund snapped. 

As much as you would have loved the protection of Edmund, sending him off was the best decision. It had barely been 5 minutes and Edmund was already losing his temper.

“Then you should have no trouble using it”. 

Edmund gives you a pleading look to change your mind but can’t.

“Thank you for your kindness today. I am glad someone was here for my mother”. 

“I still have work to do.” Edmund tries. 

“You can come back tomorrow”. You push your friend to the door. He turns back to you once out of the threshold. 

He says your name softly before the door closes in his face.

You turn back to Coriolanus who looked like the boy who won the biggest prize at the fair.

“I don’t want him in the house if I am not here.” He calls as you make his tea. 

You try to act nonchalant as you answer, “Fine.” 

You finish Coriolanus’s tea and bring it to him at the table.

He tugs your wrist as you pull your hand back and invites you onto his lap.

“You seemed close with the maintenance man,” he states, taking a sip of tea. 

“Not at all. He’s my brother’s old friend. We’re just old acquaintances.”

He rubs your arm, “Why don’t you go pack a bag to take back”.

“Back? I thought that was a one night thing.” You bolt up out of his hold and he continues to sip his tea unbothered. 

“You think I am letting you stay here after finding a man lingering in your house?” 

You doubt if that was his plan long before Edmund was introduced. 

“I told you who he was. My mother needs me here. She can’t even get out of bed by herself”. 

“She seems to be standing just fine now.”

You follow his eyes to the hallway where your mother leaned against the frame out of breath. 

You rush to her, trying to help her back to bed but she resisted. 

“I was so worried,” she huffed. 

“I am sorry.”

Coriolanus rises from his seat to join you and your mother in the hallway. 

“She’ll be coming back with me, ma’am. You are welcome to visit anytime.”

Your mother wanted to argue and scream, you could see it on her face but she bit her tongue.

You spoke for her, “I am not. I am staying here”. 

Coriolanus pushes past you to your bedroom where he yanks, opens the closet and begins searching for something. He tossed things out onto the floor before growing impatient and swifty going over to your bed and stripping the pillow case from the pillow. 

He stuffs the things thrown on the floor into the case. Your underwear, and spare clothes are stuffed into the small sack. 

He leaves the room to head to the bathroom and he sees you still with your mother as he passes. 

He takes your toothbrush and a hair brush laying on the sink, packing it in the case. 

“Lets go,” he demands with a strong hold on your arm. 

You felt so frustrated as he pushed you forward. You scream and pull against him. 

Your mother looked physically pained kneeled over the door frame. She looked as if she was yelling but no sound could come from her mouth. 

You scream at him to let you go but he practically carries you out the door by your waist. He lets you go as if you were going to walk yourself only to pick you up by the waist again and throw you forward towards the car. 

‘‘Let go of her!” You hear Edmunds voice before the force of his hit sends both you and Coriolanus off balance. 

Coriolanus lets go of you to defend himself against Edmunds attacks. He grunts as Edmund gets a good shot to his mouth. His lip split instantly. 

Coriolanus was stronger though. Well fed and well trained. He dodged the next swing and shot back one of his own. It landed against Edmund’s eye. It gave Coriolanus time to distance himself from the car. Now that he wasn’t backed into a corner, Edmund couldn’t rely just on his brute strength. 

He lunged forward again but Coriolanus jumped back in time for the swing to miss. 

With a clear shot to his face, Coriolanus throws his fist into Edmund’s nose. Blood gushed from it, leaving a large red patch. But it doesn’t deter him. He licks the blood off his lips and runs at Coriolanus with his shoulder. 

Edmund’s tackle sent Coriolanus to the ground with an soft groan. With his knees cemented into the ground below, Edmund takes hold of Coriolanus' collar and uses it to bring his face up against his fist. 

You could feel people watching from their houses but none came to help. 

Not even whe Coriolanus managed to reverse positions. He didn’t make the same mistake as Edmund, he kept his body weight centered. One knee kneeling on the ground while the foot of his other leg stayed flat against the earth’s floor. It would be harder for Edmund to roll him over. 

Coriolanus’s fists pounded into Edmunds face. You could see he was losing focus and his body lost power. 

He was going to kill Edmund if he continued. 

You throw yourself over his head, covering what you could with your own body. Coriolanus doesn’t swing down at you. Letting go of Edmunds hair and standing up. 

He spits the blood from his mouth out on the ground, standing tall above you as he drinks in the position you were in. You could feel Edmund raise his hand to your shoulder, his tight grip bunching your shirt. 

Coriolanus’s breathing was heavy but Edmund’s breaths were soft against your ear. 

His lip was bleeding still into his mouth, and he had a cut above his eyebrow that he smeared across his face as he wiped it off. 

You swore you heard him laugh softly as he picked up the pillow case and stuffed the lost items back in before throwing it into the car where it spilled once more. 

He holds the door open for you, his hard stare telling you what to do without words. 

You tear yourself from Edmund who was reluctant to let you go. 

“No,” he groans but you follow your instincts and get into the car. 

The door slams shut and you peer out the window to see Edmund trying to stand on shaky feet. The word must have felt like it was spinning for him. 

Coriolanus gets in and begins driving without a word. 

“Ah,” he sighs, wiping the blood off his lip. 

You choke back tears as you watch Edmund fall down in the mirror. 

“Kill them and you kill me,” you threaten, “I swear, there is not a single thing you can do that would stop me.”

Without your mother, without Edmund, there would be no point in being alive. 

Coriolanus doesn’t answer you. You take it as a sign that he meant you were serious. 

You both fall into silence on the drive back to the compound. You wondered if Lucy Gray was subjected to the same treatment. She was stronger than you were though. She was the victor of the Hunger Games, while you stood there frozen while two men tried to kill each other with their bare hands. If she couldn’t survive him, what hope did you have?

—------

The nightmare returns again that night. 

It starts as it always does. He is in the forest hunting Lucy Gray as she taunts him with her song.

“Are you, are you comin' to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.” 

He stalks through the vegetation.  

“Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me?” He feels her once again, as a hand on his shoulder, a wet rasp in his ear. He spins with his gun to the air. 

It was a fatal mistake. He feels the thick rope loop around his neck and yank him up to the trees. He drops his gun in an effort to loosen the knot around his throat. 

Lucy Gray had strung him up in the tree like his father. 

He gasps as he wakes from it, startling you too. 

Your frightened figure was a welcomed sight to Coriolanus who scooped you up from the bed into his arms. His hold hurt you. It was far too tight, and his hot sweaty body overheated you. 

You couldn’t tell him though, you doubt he would even hear you over his loud shaky breathing.

He presses his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. 

He couldn’t have that cabin, that forest, that girl, haunt him the rest of his days. He would have to conquer this fear. 

He would go back with you, where he would face Lucy Gray or leave the ghost of her in the trees. 

taglist:

@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw

@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

@urfavnoirette

 @aleemendoza2425-blog

@hiatuswhore

@jacesvelaryons

@swimmjacket

[justiceforanders]

Tides of Fate

Part of the "Unwritten Chapters" Lucanis x Rook Stories

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook (she/her)

Rating: M

Words: 1.8k

Available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60680923

Summary: Adrenaline runs high as Rook and Lucanis end up in a gondola after fleeing from the Antaam. They get a little carried away.

Tides of Fate is part 2 of the "Unwritten Chapters", a short series exploring extra romance scenes between Lucanis and Rook, as seen in the Veilguard story sketches by Nick Thornborrow.

The night was alive with tension, the narrow streets of Treviso echoing with the distant shouts of the Antaam. Rook’s breath came in sharp bursts as she raced after Lucanis, his silhouette barely visible in the dark. He moved like smoke, slipping through the maze of alleyways and over rooftops with a confidence born of years of training. Rook trusted him implicitly, following him through the darkness even as her muscles ached and her heart pounded with exhaustion.

“Here!” he hissed, reaching for her hand and pulling her down a narrow flight of stairs. They emerged by a canal, where gondolas bobbed gently under a large bridge. Lucanis climbed into one, his movements fluid despite the unsteady rocking of the boat. When he turned and extended his hand to her, Rook took it without hesitation, the boat dipping precariously under their combined weight.

“Stay close, lie low,” he whispered, crouching beside her. She settled beside him, their shoulders brushing in the cramped space. Her pulse raced, though she wasn’t sure whether it was from the chase or the heat of his body so close to hers.

Above them, heavy boots thundered on the cobblestones. The Antaam’s voices grew louder, orders being given in crisp, urgent Qunlat, the clang of their armour making the air feel even heavier. Rook held her breath, willing herself to be as still as stone. Lucanis was unnervingly quiet beside her, his eyes fixed on the shadows overhead.

Minutes passed, or maybe seconds – it was hard to tell. Finally, the noise receded, the soldiers’ footfalls growing fainter until the canal was silent again.

Rook exhaled in relief, her shoulders sagging. “That was…” She trailed off, her lips curving into a wry smile. “Well, I think we can call that a close one.”

Lucanis didn’t answer immediately, his attention still fixed on the darkness above. Rook’s gaze flickered over him; moonlight spilled through the gaps in the bridge, illuminating the angles of his face – the sharp line of his nose, the faint glimmer of blood on his cheek, the way his hands rested on his thighs, still tense, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Lucanis tilted his head slightly, catching her staring, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. His smile faded, replaced by something deeper, darker. His eyes, those rich, half-lidded brown pools, locked onto hers. There was a flicker of something in his gaze that made her pause.

Rook couldn’t look away.

This had been building for weeks – the lingering glances, the brush of fingers when passing a weapon, the way his voice always softened when he said her name. Every time she’d stepped too close, he’d retreated, putting up walls she couldn’t scale. But here, in the silence of the canal, with no space left to run, those walls seemed to crumble.

Lucanis’ gaze dropped to her lips, and her breath caught. He blinked and shook his head, but it was too late. She’d seen it – the longing, the weight of something unsaid. He was watching her, and for once, he hadn’t been able to hide how much he wanted to look at her.

1. 👍: Thanks for not letting me get caught back there. Let’s finish this. 2. 🎭: Remind me never to try navigating this city without you. Know a way out of here? 3. 🛡️: The Antaam won’t stay distracted for long. Let’s move before they double back. 4. ❤️ Express romantic interest in Lucanis. (Does not commit to a romance.): Do you know you always look at me like that?

“Do you know you always look at me like that?” she asked, her smile wavering. The tension of the chase lingered in the air between them, electric and undeniable. Rook was acutely aware of how close they were in the narrow boat, his damp hair clinging to his forehead, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

His jaw was tight, a tension in his frame that betrayed him – Rook had known Lucanis long enough to recognize the cracks in his armour. The air between them felt different now, heavier somehow, and her skin prickled with awareness. When their legs brushed, the spark it sent through her was unmistakable.

Rook’s smile faded, her chest tightening. She wanted to touch him, to close the space between them, but would he let her?

“Lucanis…” she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Lucanis didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at her then, fully, and the way his dark eyes searched hers made her throat dry. He looked like he was fighting himself, as if he wanted to reach for her and couldn’t – or wouldn’t.

The longing between them was palpable, a tether drawn taut with every glance, every almost-touch. Rook felt it too, the weight of everything unspoken pressing against her chest. For weeks, they had danced around this, circling closer and closer, and now…

Something bold and reckless stirred in her, and before she could overthink it, she moved. Shifting forward, she climbed into his lap, her knees pressing into the hard wood of the gondola.

“Rook…” His hands caught her waist immediately, his fingers tightening as the gondola rocked beneath them. His voice was low, rough, and the sound sent a thrill down her spine. “You don’t understand…”

“I do,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “I do understand – and I trust you, Lucanis.”

“Rook,” he said again, his tone gentler this time, even as his grip on her tightened. “This is…” His breathing was uneven, his forehead dipping briefly as if trying to collect himself.

“Dangerous?” Rook offered, her lips curving into a teasing smile.

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Yes.”

Her chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. This was the man who faced death and gods without flinching, yet here he was, terrified in the face of desire – not of what might happen to him, but of what might happen to her.

1. 👍: It’s okay, Lucanis. I’ll be here when you’re ready. 2. 🎭: If this is your way of scaring me off, you might need a new strategy. 3. 🛡️: If you need space, just say the word. 4. ❤️ Express romantic interest in Lucanis. (Does not commit to a romance.): We’re fighting gods. I’m not afraid of danger.

“We’re fighting gods,” she whispered, leaning closer, her hands sliding to his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of danger.”

It was all the permission Lucanis needed.

He surged forward, his lips crashing against hers with a fervour that left her breathless. The kiss was a collision, desperate and unpracticed, their lips meeting with the urgency of too many stolen glances and too many words left unsaid. The kiss wasn’t gentle – it was raw, desperate, as though he was pouring all his fear and longing into this single moment.

Rook responded just as fiercely. Her hands flew to his hair, her fingers threading through the dark strands and pulling him closer as if proximity alone could quiet the pounding of her heart. Lucanis groaned, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close until there was no space left between them. His hands slid down to her hips, his grip firm but reverent. Her own hands roamed – his hair, his shoulders, the curve of his jaw. They moved with the recklessness of people who knew better but couldn’t stop themselves, the gondola rocking precariously as they shifted ever closer.

“Lucanis,” she breathed against his lips, and he froze, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze.

“No, no, no,” she immediately added, terrified that he would once again pull away. Rook tilted her head, her thumb brushing along his jaw. “Don’t get lost in that head of yours. Be here. With me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes widened slightly, his breath hitching as if her words had pierced something fragile inside him. Then his lips were on hers again, hungrier this time, his hands sliding up her sides, his fingers tangling in her curls.

She leaned into him, her legs tangling with his, their bodies pressed so close she could feel the hammering of his heart against her chest. Her hands slid down his back, his shoulders, desperate to anchor herself to him, to this moment.

The gondola rocked sharply as they both rocked their hips together, a lurch that nearly sent them both tumbling into the canal. They broke apart, laughing against each other’s lips, the sound breathless and warm.

Lucanis sat up first, smoothing back his hair with a shaky hand. “We’re going to sink this thing.”

Rook laughed softly, leaning back against the gondola’s edge, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”

The tension that had ignited between them still hummed in the narrow space, like the last glowing embers of a fire. Their movements were slow, almost hesitant, as they straightened their clothes and adjusted their weapons. Now and then, their eyes would meet, and a quiet laugh would escape when one of them was caught looking. Rook felt her cheeks flush every time, though she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

Lucanis reached for the tie that had slipped from her hair, his hand hovering just short of touching it. “May I?”

Rook’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to…”

“I don’t,” he interrupted quietly, his eyes meeting hers. “But I want to.”

Her chest tightened at his tone. She nodded and tilted her head, blushing fiercely as she allowed him to retie the loose strands. It felt even more intimate than the kiss, the way he fixed her hair with a gentleness that made her chest ache.

When he finished, his hands lingered near her shoulders, brushing against the fabric of her tunic. She glanced up at him, her pulse quickening when her gaze dipped, catching the slight redness of his lips, still swollen from their kiss. The air between them grew heavy again, their shared silence saying what neither of them dared to speak aloud.

Rook reached up, her hand brushing against his wrist. “Lucanis…” she began, her voice soft.

He drew back slightly, his jaw tightening as though wrestling with himself. “Rook, this…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing as his hand curled into a fist against his thigh. “I…”

Her lips parted, a faint smile playing at their corners as she tilted her head, her voice a gentle whisper. “I know.”

He gave a faint, shaky laugh, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. But before he could respond, the distant clang of boots echoed down the canal. The Antaam weren’t far off.

The assassin in him returned in an instant. His shoulders squared, his gaze sharpening as he handed her her staff, his smirk tugging at his lips despite the tension. “Ready to fight more Antaam, Rook?”

She took the weapon, her fingers brushing his as she mirrored his grin, her eyes bright, her blood pumping, her magic thrumming in her veins. “You know it. What is it that Teia and Viago always say? The Crows rule Antiva…”

Lucanis’ answering grin was blinding, even in the dark. “And Treviso will be free.”

[unwritten chapters: part 1 | part 2 | part 3] & [other lucanis x rook stories]

[thelarriefics]

SUMMER FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find fics that take place in the summer, or have summer scenes. (Part I)

📖 On The Horizon by FitzAndLarry (261k)

Drunk, loose, and excited on the first night of his two-week-long cruise, Doctor Harry Styles finds himself with a little extra company on what has turned out to be a lonely experience. Louis, the pilot who helped fly him across the Atlantic, is the object of his fling. Thus begins an adventure filled with laughter, sun, and trauma rearing its ugly head. Deadline on their companionship, the pair commit to enjoying their time - and Harry, the screw-up he is, can't help but lose himself in the fantasy.

📖 love is a word, you gave it a name by @larrydoinglaundry (158k)

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

📖 blue moon by @aquietlarrie (152k)

or the self indulgent 50’s au where i wanted a safe space to explore the culture, history, and sexuality of being gay in a time when it was extremely difficult to do so. includes, lots of questionable dancing, healing your inner child, and one heck of an emotional ride.

📖 a cycle of recycled revenge by @broken-beaks (103k)

Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

📖 gloominess of summer days by @adoremelikeasunflower19 (90k)

Following a devastating and unexpected split, Harry finds himself rewarded by the mysterious ways of Faith in the form of an inheritance of his Uncle’s house in a distant country Wolveheuls. Dismissing his initial scepticism, he chooses to seize the opportunity. He starts a journey of self-discovery, relearning the meaning of loving and being loved, moving on from the painful past, and making his place within the eccentric small-town community. Between his efforts, his path crosses with Louis Tomlinson, a town native, known for his ridiculous number of jobs, incomparable wit, and profound adoration for the cottage lifestyle.

📖 Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes by @starryhaze28 (82k)

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

📖 your memory over me by @shimmeringevil (64k)

The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

📖 hope your life leads you back to my door by wildestdreams (56k)

Harry Styles set out to be a doctor; a steady career and a good living is all a young person could ask for. What he hadn't set out to do was to spend his summer holiday on a trekking trip in Spain with a group of people he barely knew. And he certainly didn’t plan on having his heart stolen by Louis Tomlinson, class clown, and secret crush, in such a way that he feared he might never find it again. ft. cheesy chat-up lines, a big desi wedding, falling in love, and growing up.

📖 A Golden Goal by a_momentwitme (55k)

"Even they, as free as you think they are, don't always get to love like this, in the true meaning of the word, of the feeling. Not some diluted version that some settle with for their entire lifetime. I mean love in its purest form, which still grows every day despite the problems, barriers and annoying habits you discover in your partner. A love that refills your heart after you pour it out or makes you go on during your worst days, knowing that your best is expecting you at home."

📖 where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords (53k)

Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

📖 sent by the sun by @givesuethemoon (51k)

In 1970s Los Angeles, Harry is a groupie who aches to feel alive. Louis is the lead singer of a rock band who aches to know him.

📖 Suddenly Last Summer by @disgruntledkittenface (44k)

Louis is bored, rich and lonely. He has no reason to expect that this summer in the Hamptons with his friends will be different from any other – until he meets Harry. Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

📖 Awake Dear Heart, Awake by She_bear (35k)

Cute, fun, sexy and at times emotional AU where Harry and Louis meet as strangers on holiday in Greece and find themselves stuck on a remote beach together. An initial misunderstanding gets them off to a bad start. Both at a turbulent point in their lives, they are forced to confront their internal struggles and of course each other.

📖 He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie (32k)

 the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

📖 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 (30k)

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore. Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

📖 Dancing With Masks by @softfonds (18k)

With awards season coming up and new films on the way for both of them, Harry and Louis' managers decide it's time for them to date for publicity. They don't mind, given that they are best friends and have known each other for ages. Besides, after years of sexual tension built into a fake relationship for press, what could possibly go wrong?

📖 Come on in, the water's fine by @greenblueish (9k)

or, the one where Louis is set on enjoying his last summer jobbing abroad as tourist entertainer and it only gets better when a mysterious hotel guest with overly expensive sunglasses keeps coming back for his drink recommendations.

📖 Black Leather, Blue Lace by @insightfulinsomniac (8k)

aka: a pwp in which new soulmates farmer!Louis and city girl!Harry are filthy exhibitionists.

📖 Near You Now by @beyondxmeasure (8k)

When a leaky bathroom sink turns into a minor flood, Harry has to act fast. So, he thinks of the closest (and most unlikely) way to find home repair help… Grindr. The last thing he expects from this quick fix is to find anything long-term.

📖 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all. This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

[wheels-of-despair]

A Quiet Place: Day One's bonus content "varies by retailer", so here's what I can confirm without buying anything:

Apple has a few featurettes, which you can watch for free.

Update: Bonus content becomes available after purchase.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Amazon/Prime Video also shows a few free featurettes.

Update: It's just these three.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Fandango at Home / Vudu has bonus features with purchase.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

YouTube and Google Movies do not mention any bonus content at all. Update: Because there isn't any.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Microsoft has bonus content with purchase.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

xfinity won't tell you anything unless you're signed in, which I am not.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

50 minutes of Bonus Content will be on the physical releases (4K and Blu-Ray; not DVD) coming on October 8.

Day Zero: Beginnings and Endings—Hear from John Krasinski, cast, and crew as director Michael Sarnoski takes the reins for this character-driven prequel. (7 minutes)

In the City: Chaos in Chinatown—See how the production crew recreated Manhattan from scratch in order to destroy it. Plus, hear from some new and familiar faces from the franchise. (7 minutes)

The Exodus: Against the Tide—Go behind-the-scenes of the exodus sequence that employed over a hundred extras and a clever mix of practical and visual effects. (6 minutes)

The Long Walk: Monsters in Midtown—Meet Frodo the cat and the animal trainers behind the fantastic feline performance. Plus, filmmakers detail Sam, Eric, and Frodo's long walk through the city. (7 minutes)

Pizza at the End of the World—Hear from cast and crew about why a quest for pizza when the world is under attack poignantly speaks to our humanity. (7 minutes)

Deleted and Extended Scenes -The Back of the Bus—Sam returns to the bus disappointed after the show, but notices something peculiar happening in the back. (extended, 2 minutes) -Take Off Your Shoes—Sam notices a stranger following her and tells him to remove his shoes in order to make less noise. (extended, 1 minute) -Finding the Farm—Eric is returning with Sam's meds, but takes a detour to the creature feeding grounds to find Frodo. (extended, 2 minutes) -New Shoes—Sam and Eric try on new shoes. (deleted, 1 minute) -Poetry at Patsy's—Sam and Eric have a heart-to-heart out in front of Patsy's Pizzeria. (deleted, 8 minutes)

If you purchase any of the digital versions and bonus content becomes available to you, please share with the class!

[hunxi-after-hours]

hello. no one asked for this but the purpose of this blog is so I can turn my brain upside down, shake it vigorously, and dump out all of my thoughts such that each day I may come closer to my greatest life aspiration (being a himbo) SO. it is now time for me to do a far deeper dive on the production and fight choreography of the 《逆流而上》 performance from season 4 of 《披荆斩棘的哥哥》 / Call Me By Fire than anyone really cares for

still with me? have a drink close by? all right (holds out hand) let's get egregiously deep in the weeds together

BACKGROUND / CONTEXT

《逆流而上》 (something like "Upstream" or "Against the Tide") is all of a four-minute performance by 石凯 Shi Kai, 井胧 Jing Long, and 阿如那 Aruna. combining singing, acting, and some legitimately very good stage combat, the performance presents the narrative of a plucky young upstart gangster (Jing Long), who steals something he probably shouldn't have from a seasoned mob boss (Aruna), and in doing so pulls his friend and maybe gang leader (Shi Kai) into the battle

(where are you getting this plot summary, hunxi? from my brain. unfortunately. because I've watched this performance several dozen times. that is not an exaggeration. this is however simply my interpretation of the performance so Costco container of garlic salt etc etc)

BLOW-BY-BLOW (hah)

aka hold my hand, I am going to walk you through the entire performance

but it's only four minutes! you protest

did I stutter? are you still holding my hand? is now the time to warn you that this post is over five thousand words? well let's get moving then

0:11 - 0:40 Opening

here we are, setting the scene:

jing long's character returns from the street (hear the sirens and street traffic) to their warehouse hideout, carrying a mysterious duffel bag presumably crammed full of whatever he stole from aruna (likely cash, given the lightness of the bag)

glancing over his shoulder, he checks that no one is following him before throwing the bag to his back and skipping his way into the warehouse. he scans (a badge? some other form of RFID?) his way into the front door, swings from an overhead pipe, and slides down the fireman pole to make his entrance onto the stage proper

shi kai's character is established with his feet on the desk, watching security footage and toying with something in his hand (we hear a burst of static and the bleep of a walkie-talkie)

so already! we have learned the following:

jing long reads very much as a cocky young upstart, everyone's little brother who's too hot(headed) and too cocky for his own good

shi kai reads as slightly older, more responsible, more cautious. though he slouches leisurely in his swivel chair, he is still keeping a wary eye on the security footage around the warehouse

in addition, I would like to express my respect and admiration for the costume designers of this piece — note that all of the performers involved in fight choreography (named actors and stuntspeople alike) are dressed in long sleeves, long pants, and sensibly closed-toed shoes. given the physicality of the performance, you'd definitely want clothing that can protect easily-skinned areas like elbows and knees. also, longer (and looser) sleeves and pants can handily hide other padding if needed (e.g. elbow or knee pads, or just extra layers of clothing)

shi kai is dressed in a baggy brown coat over a relatively high-necked black shirt, as well as baggy pants and black leather gloves. the looseness of his outfit leaves much more room for potential padding underneath, which makes sense as the "bruiser" of the two with much more fight choreography. I would dock points for the silly little bandana (what are you wearing that for, your opponent to strangle you with?) but it's a fun accent piece so we'll let it slide on style

jing long is dressed more "stylishly" or roguishly, with a white tank top under a leather jacket that is pushed up to almost his elbows. he also wears full leather gloves, but with holes around the knuckles; so, clearly not a bruiser or someone who punches things with regularity. while the leather jacket is good for protection, it offers much less padding than shi kai's coat. this then comes back to bite jing long, who gets flung to the ground later by aruna and takes a solid moment to recover

0:41 - 1:20 Establishing the Jing Long - Shi Kai Character Relationship

in this sequence, we begin the singing (something that I personally find deeply hilarious is how the lyrics have almost nothing to do with anything that's happening onstage. we could unpack this for a while but for now I get a good laugh out of it), but more importantly, we get into the acting:

as jing long walks across stage toward shi kai, high five-ing shi kai on the way over and spinning him around in his swivel chair, jing long does so with a swagger, evidently proud of his heist

shi kai appears to be more skeptical; as jing long sits on his desk and unzips the bag to show him the spoils, shi kai instead raises his eyebrows and gestures at the security footage, as if to ask "well, were you followed?"

jing long's character rolls his eyes and crosses the stage to the couch, where he flops and sulks about shi kai not being appropriately impressed

shi kai gets up and follows him, and though the lyrics rapped here have nothing to do with the plot beyond general vibe, the moment reads very much like shi kai lecturing jing long about the need for caution and discretion. fascinating moment where shi kai's character is clearly saying something but the words coming out of his mouth are not what he's saying diegetically (except maybe "back off")

jing long is evidently fed up with shi kai's nagging, until they both hear footsteps in the scaffolding overhead — someone has followed jing long back to their hideout

I do love the detail of jing long looking up, directing our gazes to the mooks running through the catwalks. jing long gets up to go deal with them — again, hotheaded youngster — but shi kai pushes him back onto the couch with a pointed look which very much reads as "older brother once again cleaning up after younger brother's impulsive decision"

now that we've done all the set up! let's get punchin'

1:21 - 2:04 Fight Sequence 1 (Catwalk Fight)

in which jing long gets to sit on a couch and do vocal acrobatics while shi kai cleans up his mess

the degree to which this set is almost completely OSHA certified but also Strategically Not OSHA Certified in certain places brings me so much joy and anger, but it's nothing worse than what the original Next to Normal set on Broadway pulled, so I will put my hard hat down

shi kai climbs up the stairs to the upper level of the warehouse, where a bunch of convenient mooks/stuntpeople await him to be mowed down one by one. this sequence is very much reminiscent of platform fighting games

A NOT-SO-BRIEF ASIDE ABOUT STAGE COMBAT: one of the reasons why I absolutely love stage combat is because, done right, it is the biggest inside joke you can pull off in front of a live audience. the audience is convinced that these two characters are Legitimately Trying to Hurt Each Other, but the performers are secretly in on the joke — they are executing a perfectly and exquisitely choreographed movement sequence in which they hoodwink the audience together. for a medium that is premised on hoodwinking the audience together, stage combat is extra fun because the hoodwinking is dialed up to eleven. it's not just convincing the audience of the immediacy and urgency of a fictional world, it's also convincing the audience that you hate each other's guts when secretly you're trying not to break out into a huge grin (or maybe other people are better at staying in character, I was never cut out for acting). it's ALSO making the audience think that serious injury and damage has occurred, when in reality nothing of the kind has happened. it's the wordless trust and synchronicity that your scene partner will be exactly where you both agreed they will be, just as you will do exactly what you promised to do

in stage combat, none of the blows actually hit with the level of force they appear to — this is incredibly important in live theater, which is performed night after night for days to weeks to months in a row. the fight choreography must be sustainable. that means no performer can be a hero and say "oh you can hit me for real, I can take it" because the body reacts instinctively and if you know physical contact is coming, it doesn't matter how good of an actor you are, at some point you will not be able to suppress the flinch. also, you have to be onstage doing this again tomorrow, or even tonight, and if it's a blow that will injure or bruise, you can't keep taking damage in the same spot repeatedly and expect to make it through the run

which is to say — stage combat should be safe. it should appear to be violent, feral, unhinged, vicious, whatever the scene needs, but it has to be safe and sustainable. what that also means is that the ferocity of the attack, the damage of the blow, the lethality of the strike depends less on the attacking performer's "strength" and wholly on the "victim" selling the force of the hit. cradling your face after a slap (conveniently hiding that your cheek is not even reddening because there was no contact made). doubling over after a "blow" to the solar plexus to sell that gut-punch. depending on your genre, maybe even doing a gratuitous backflip off a platform if you've been "sent flying." half of stage combat is camp (the other half is knapping)

so! shi kai mows his way through a series of stunt performers, who are really doing the lion's share of convincing the audience that his character is a competent brawler. no shade to shi kai — the man is also singing through much of this sequence

most notably, shi kai is singing as he delivers that flying kick at 1:49. the audio cuts a bit strangely here, which allows you to hear the strain in his voice as he jumps into half of a pull-up and kicks a stuntperson in the chest

if you've gotten way too deep in all the extra behind-the-scenes material for this performance, you'll know that this was a sequence that shi kai really struggled with because the director kept asking him to kick the guy with more force and shi kai felt guilty hitting the stuntperson every time. it wasn't until the stuntperson confirmed that he was wearing chest padding that shi kai finally relaxed and felt like he could put more force into it

most of the choreography has the combatants coming at each other with a big ol' overhand haymaker/icepick attacks (whether with a steel pipe or a closed fist). this is a classic stage combat move, partially because it looks Big and Scary and Impressive, partially because it's extremely impractical in an actual fight: it's slow, utilizes an excessive amount of wind-up, and leaves a huge opening where a fast attacker can dart in for the advantage while your arm is still in the overhead swing, which is what shi kai does with the first stuntperson

I am fairly confident that they are adding additional sound effects for punching, hitting the ground, and later, jing long strangling aruna — partially because I don't think we'd actually be able to pick up those sounds in the general noise of a live performance, but also primarily because they sound, um. somewhat canned

give it up for the professional stuntpeople who are really selling this performance, and also because of how extra they are across the board in "being defeated." I'm specifically calling out the second guy at 1:36 for his little foot twirl when shi kai gives him that head smack, and the last guy at 2:01 for bouncing off the edge of the platform where there is deliberately No OSHA Protective Railing. like my guy you could've just somersaulted onto the mat that's presumably discreetly laid out below, the bounce was completely gratuitous

speaking of moments where you can spot the "seams" of the fight choreography: watch this enough times and you can see how the stuntperson doubles over and waits for shi kai to knock him off the platform from 1:59 - 2:01; the slight pause there is partially hidden by the rapid cuts, but if you watch the stuntperson you can see him holding the position in preparation to be kicked off the platform

2:05 - 2:50 "ARUNA!!!!!!!!!"

time check: we are now two minutes. into a four minute performance. and only now does aruna, our third character, show up, and what an entrance it is. in the performance cut that aired, the editors briefly flash to the greenroom, where the other contestants of the show, watching the performance live, erupt in cheers for aruna's arrival. shouts of "he's coming, he's here!" and "ARUNA!!!!!!!!!" briefly interrupt the performance's audio as the other contestants clap, yell, and rise from their seats in primal enthusiasm. one gets the sense that aruna is not only a fan favorite contestant, but also a cast favorite as well

it is exceedingly difficult to get screenshots of the fight choreography since it all blurs. you will simply have to trust me and watch it

aruna's entrance + first lines are maybe the closest the lyrics actually come to making diegetic sense hhh

aruna's character rolls up with an entire crew, only to wave them off, presumably because he thinks he can take care of these upstarts on his own. to be fair, he's not completely wrong about that

I love the way they did the first moment of eye contact between aruna and jing long; aruna, high up on the catwalk, looking down at jing long on the warehouse floor with a nonzero amount of scorn. jing long, in contrast with his earlier insouciance and general slouchiness on the couch, now sits up, slightly hunched over, with what looks like fear in his eyes. as it turns out, he didn't pull off his heist as cleanly as he thought he had, and now the consequences are coming (literally) to beat his ass (literally)

they also take time to establish the location of shi kai's character, high up on a catwalk on the other side of the stage. this raises the possibility that the earlier mooks he dispatched in Fight Sequence 1 were simply a distraction aruna sent ahead; more importantly, it means that jing long will have to fend for himself against aruna until shi kai gets there

but not to worry! jing long and shi kai's side ALSO has disposable mooks (very hardworking stuntpeople). note that these stuntpeople (unlike the, uh, assorted 小鲜肉 in the background who wear tank tops) are dressed with sensible coverage

aruna one-ups shi kai's initial fight sequence by taking on three people simultaneously, more or less in a melee (they do attack him very politely in sequence. this is choreography after all). the first person he dispatches with a spinning kick, which is tremendously impractical in real life (slow! difficult to aim! not actually more forceful!) but looks cool in choreography

the second person comes at aruna with an openhanded haymaker, which makes it tremendously convenient for aruna to get inside that stuntperson's range, twist him around to feign a joint lock, and use him as both shield and leverage to kick the other two guys (the joint lock is feigned because it's real easy to get injured in a real joint lock. later, the two of them also untwist the "joint lock" to get better and safer leverage on the shoulder throw)

blink and you'll miss it — when the stuntperson hits and breaks the coffee table behind him at 2:46 - 2:47, you can see him briefly check over his shoulder to make sure he's falling where he wants to. I can only hope that the coffee table was pre-broken for the effect

the shoulder throw at 2:48 looks pretty gnarly, but if you slow it down you can see the stuntperson strike the ground feet-first to absorb the impact before pretending to crumple. that being said, the speed and the force of the impact are probably enough to rattle his bones a little

after summarily dispatching the three stuntpeople, aruna points at the bag by jing long's feet and gestures an unimpressed "give it back"

2:51 - 3:26 Fight Sequence 2, Electric Boogaloo (The Showdown)

you know it's a Big Fight Scene when they take a break from singing to do a pure instrumental + fight choreography interlude. after aruna summarily dispatches three stuntpeople and tells jing long to return what he stole, jing long, true to his character, flings the bag at aruna in a "fine, take it!" and goes in for the attack

aruna dodges easily, and as he goes to the side, he picks up a plank of plywood that he swings at jing long

it passes way over jing long's head, because jing long has planted one hand on the ground to slide by underneath

side note: in the behind-the-scenes material, shi kai was the one practicing a sideways knee slide. considering that 1) no knee slide made it into the final choreography, and 2) jing long is the one doing this close approximation here, that makes me wonder if a) jing long and shi kai at any point switched roles, and b) at what point the set was finalized vs. the fight choreography set, because there isn't enough space in the catwalk fight sequence for shi kai to slide safely or practically

but that's neither here nor there

aruna swings at jing long twice, and jing long ducks out of the way both times. props to jing long for making sure he comes back up between swings before ducking again, because otherwise it would make aruna's character look a bit foolish for repeatedly swinging at empty space

on aruna's third swing with the plank, he shatters it against jing long's left side. I'm hoping the plank was either really thin or pre-broken because that is a hefty cloud of dust

jing long then comes at aruna with — you guessed it — a haymaker, which allows aruna to grab him by the entire forearm and sock him in the stomach. this makes jing long double over, conveniently setting them both up for—

the next stunt these two pull involves partnerwork and coordination; aruna falls backwards, dropping his center of gravity to the floor and pulling jing long forward. he then gives jing long a boost with his foot (ah, my bad. "a kick"), which allows jing long to flip over him in a very showy manner

if this was actual combat, aruna would have probably kept hold of jing long's forearm in order to slam him against the floor. but since this is choreography, aruna lets go of jing long's arm, which allows jing long to catch himself on his hands and turn that into a forward somersault

don't be fooled by how far jing long rolls. after the first roll to dispel momentum from the flip, he's doing the rest of the rolls on his own merit

again, the "ferocity" or "strength" of an attack is sold by the "victim," so by lying on the floor for a bit longer and struggling to get up, jing long is selling aruna's fighting prowess. also, even if this is meticulously planned stage combat, the performers are still absolutely getting their bumps and bruises

shi kai enters — somewhat tardy, but I love this entrance because it's so funny. a plywood (?) siding hits the ground with a cloud of dust, presumably bashed in from the force of the two stuntpeople colliding with it, who then fall to the ground as shi kai struts in. the two stuntpeople roll around on the ground as if shi kai just pummeled them into the wall, but in reality the three of them were probably j chilling, waiting for their cue, before the two stuntpeople jumped at the plywood shoulder-first to knock it down for shi kai's entrance

again, stage combat is a huge inside joke! what looks like shi kai kicking ass and taking names as he comes to his lil bro's rescue is actually just the stunt crew going "nah man leave this to us, we'll make you look cool" and shi kai going "oh ok you guys sure?" and them going "yeah!!" and yeeting themselves at the wall

neither here nor there but I love shi kai sprinting across stage to get to aruna. it really builds up the momentum and intensity of the fight. the fact that he does this while spitting "now call me by fire" is. well. pretty fire

aruna's turn to throw a haymaker! shi kai easily ducks under it for the waist tackle, which 1) helps transfer all of his sprinting momentum to twirl the two of them around, and 2) results in a net zero change in positioning. throughout this whole performance, aruna is consistently positioned on stage right (frame left), and shi kai / jing long are consistently on stage left (frame right), just to make "who's on whose side" a bit easier for the viewer to track

aruna even does a fun little jump/flail to dissipate shi kai's momentum, which I find delightful. throw the didis a bone, aruna, they already can't beat you two-on-one

shi kai does a little jump + snap kick, which aruna easily parries with his hands. choreography!

aruna then goes for shi kai's leg to take him to the floor (what's with this choreography characterization. in less than two minutes aruna has gone to the floor at least three times. let the man rest)

I guess in a real fight it might make sense for aruna to use his greater strength and mass to pin his opponents to the floor, but that requires following through and punching their lights out, which he, uh, does not

shi kai's spinning flip is "assisted" by aruna — the quotation marks is because that maneuver requires anchoring one's weight on the leg that aruna's holding, but because shi kai's doing it with that foot elevated, it's much harder than it would've been if shi kai's foot was just on the ground. trust me on this one. it's all about core strength and leverage

much like how aruna politely let go of jing long's arm while flipping him, aruna politely holds shi kai's leg long enough for him to flip as well

they use this moment to briefly split apart and breathe for a second in the choreography

shi kai's turn to throw a haymaker! in an echo of earlier, aruna grabs that arm and puts it into a (very loose) joint lock, and loops his left arm around shi kai's chest in a "headlock." I would like to praise aruna's fight choreography technique here, because he is executing a lovely fake headlock — arm barred across shi kai's collarbones and shoulder, not actually anywhere close to shi kai's throat. likewise, shi kai's free hand is on that arm, which anchors both of them relative to each other and also allows for shi kai to "struggle" without being in danger of dislodging aruna's grip to somewhere more dangerous

aruna then pivots them and "kicks" shi kai onto the couch — either he misplaced his foot or he's really selling it, but that flail does not look very controlled hhh. meanwhile, shi kai finally gets to flop on this very squishy-looking couch, which jing long has been monopolizing for this entire performance. again, it's shi kai's job to sell the force of aruna's kick, so he whiplashes very convincingly onto the cushions

this is also a classic of stage combat: "throw" your opponent into what is actually a soft landing place with very little real force, and let your opponent control the force and direction and theatricality of how they land

aruna, stumbling back from kicking shi kai, has his outstretched arms caught by two of the stuntpeople he laid flat earlier. also another visible "seam," as he essentially backs into their arms so they can catch him

he then flings them off, which is tremendously unrealistic sdlfksdjls but we can cut the man a break, he's been onstage for a minute and a half and that minute was almost entirely fight choreography

side note: you can hear aruna's heavy breathing, which means that they decided to keep his mic on during this fight sequence?? well I hope they turned aruna's mic off shortly after this for the next stunt they're about to pull

the flying kick + punch combo is also tremendously unrealistic (like, way to cancel out the force of your own strikes as you try to go in opposite directions simultaneously), but it looks showy. if you watch carefully, you can see the second stuntperson (who presumably gets socked in the face) do his extremely extra flip while he goes down just a hair late

3:27 - 4:08 (end) Finale

and now it's time for the big finish! I do love the editing on this performance, since no matter who's currently engaged in a beatdown, they'll periodically give shots to the third person so we know where they're positioned. in this case, we saw jing long levering himself back up during the aruna - shi kai showdown and gearing himself up for—

jing long runs at aruna and launches himself into the air to lock his legs around aruna's neck

moment of silence for aruna's neck. and all the rehearsals they had to go through while jing long figured this out

another visible "seam" — as aruna backs up towards the center of the stage, he's subtly checking over his shoulder (the wrong shoulder, likely on purpose so that he can still be taken "off guard" by jing long's attack) and killing a few seconds while jing long gets a running start

to be honest the spinning leg lock just looks fun. probably not for aruna but once they get into position jing long lets his arms go like "wheeeee"

letting his arms go is also important for weight distribution, balance, and lowering himself to the ground once aruna's spun them enough times. hey can someone send a memo to 偶像剧 that this is clearly the superior form of the 公��抱 + 转圈圈 combination

aruna goes to the floor — again — to let them both down and they roll away from each other to disengage. hilariously, at some point in this scuffle, aruna loses a shoe. you can spot it by shi kai's foot in the next shot, and also when aruna stands, facing the didi gang, his right (shoeless) foot is visibly smaller than his left

this manuever also yanks the earpiece out of aruna's ear — at this point I'm just impressed that all of their microphones stayed on their faces

while shi kai helps jing long get to his feet (love that you can hear the unsteadiness in jing long's voice. that doesn't stop him from being exquisitely on key or belting), aruna goes and grabs the duffel

I am also irrationally charmed by how shi kai mirrors aruna's chin-jerk. in my personal postcanon imagination for this stupid four minute performance I like to think that they follow the 不打不相识 rules of friendship, and aruna takes these two chuckleheads under his wing. oh wait that's what already happened in the rehearsals for this performance. anyway

a moment of appreciation for the dynamism of the last shot — in the ringing silence after the last note, aruna hurls the duffel bag behind him with a yell, and the two sides charge at each other as the stage goes dark. this must have been a late add, because their dress rehearsals have the didi gang getting up in aruna's space and surrounding him, and the stage goes to blackout in that stationary image. ending on this clash is such a lovely evocation of movement and further story as both sides throw away the original "goal" of this confrontation (the duffel) for the thrill of the fight

OK SO THAT WAS A LOT OF RAMBLING, NOW WHAT?

you know, I wish I knew what the point of this exercise was too beyond trying to shake all of these thoughts out of my brain. all I know is that I watched this performance a couple of weeks ago and it's now become my entire personality. I think about it multiple times a day. I've watched it so many times I know all the cuts, and maybe most of the choreography by heart

I think there's something about the rawness of this performance — both in a primal, punchin' kind of sense, but the relative lack of artifice. this performance is very much a back-to-theatrical basics; a rare piece that doesn't rely on an overabundance of flashing concert lighting or pyrotechnics to elevate the atmosphere of the song. much like the barebones aesthetic of the set (mostly scaffolding), this performance relies on very little special effects beyond good old-fashioned theater. legitimately, I'm not sure they had many lighting cues beyond "lights up" and "lights out," which is tremendously refreshing to see.

and of course, naturally, I've been obsessed with the fight choreography. hopefully the several thousand words have convinced you that the choreography is well-made and well-crafted within the context of the song and performance and narrative; I think for me, it was the refreshing novelty of seeing actually good fight choreography in cmedia. it's just been. so long?? since I've seen down and dirty fight choreography that hasn't been stylized and slow-moed to hell and back, strung up and strung out on wire work and wind machines. there's also a down-to-earth-ness to the stage combat here — reminiscent of HK gangster flicks, for sure, and their overlap with kung fu action films — from the lack of wild stunts and acrobatics that feels especially appropriate to the presented narrative

and it helps that everyone brought their all to the performance! aruna, shi kai, and jing long's characters all shone through easily, subtly, in embodiments that felt effortless, though jing long would be the first to argue otherwise (he struggled quite a bit, and went to Professional Screen Actor Aruna for advice). and even if the characterizations felt seamless, I loved being able to see the "seams" of the performance; how they put the fight choreography together, the little tells where you can spot the immense amount of work that went into honing this performance into something stage-ready. the effort everyone put into this is palpable, from the shortness of breath to the strained voices and strained back muscles (big mood, jing long). it's the fly on the painting that brings it to life; it's sneaking a peek of the human effort and time and work it took to put this together

I am rapidly running out of words to explain why I love this so much, but to actually explain all of it feels like it would strip away the emotion and render it nothing more and nothing less than appreciation. but there is a healthy mixture of all of that: appreciation, admiration, enthusiasm, knowledge, satisfaction, that makes my deep affection for this performance that much stronger, that makes me stop my workday whenever this comes up in my playlist again to watch it all again, even if I already know every grunt and every thump, every run and every belt by heart

(bows to an empty auditorium) thank you for your time as I yammer on about another niche interest. I'm off to go elevate my watch count into the triple digits (kickflips off stage)

LINKS

纯享 4-minute performance video

full episode (their section begins 41:20 and runs approximately to 1:00:00)

extra reactions from the greenroom

additional rehearsal footage

[campbyler]

ch09 extras

hello!! while we all wait for chapter 10.1 to be finished (we are so close!), we wanted to share some extras from ch09 to tide us over in the meantime 💌 please enjoy a short deleted dialogue scene and the original ch09 outline below the cut!

DELETED SCENE - MIKE TEACHING WILL HOW TO DRIVE (disclaimer: please do not learn how to drive manual from a fanfiction. i do not care if this is wrong. thanks <3)

Mike doesn’t even have the opportunity to respond before Will is turning the car on again, miraculously doing so successfully without having to ask Mike for instruction.  “Look at that,” Mike exclaims, genuinely impressed, complete with a low whistle. Embarrassingly (for Mike), the car isn’t the only thing Will turned on. “You’re already getting the hang of it!” Will resists the urge to roll his eyes, because he is also proud of himself, regardless of how small of an accomplishment it is. “Turning the car on isn’t impressive,” he says dismissively, because he is nothing if not humble. “It’s better than what most people can do,” Mike points out. “Do you think that Lucas knows how to start a manual car? I’ll answer for you – he doesn’t. He’s a loser.”  Will barks out a laugh, a little surprised at the animosity towards Lucas this afternoon. “What do you have against Lucas?”  “Nothing,” Mike says quickly. “He’s my best friend, even if he is a loser who can’t drive stick.”  “I’m telling him that you said that,” he threatens.  “It’ll be nothing he hasn’t heard before,” Mike says, the picture of unbothered. He gestures towards Will's feet again, ready to move on from his Lucas slander. “Anyway, before you let off the brake this time, remember the drawbridge.” He lifts both hands up, mimicking the same model drawbridge he had earlier when he’d first been explaining. “When you’re lowering it back down – releasing the clutch, in this case – you’ll want to do it slowly. Ease off it.” He mimics his words with the motion of his hands, miming the drawbridge slowly lowering down. “Once you feel the clutch engage – and you’ll know when, because it’s almost like the car is biting – then you can let off completely. Does that make sense?” “Slower release,” Will repeats, nodding his head slowly too, getting into the idea of it “Got it.”  “I don’t want you worrying about the gas pedal at all right now,” Mike continues, wiggling his fingers around his head in a motion that Will translates as: get it out of your mind. “You’re going to let go of the brake, forget the gas pedal even exists for the moment, and peel off the clutch – slowly – until you feel that bite.”  “Okay,” Will says. He clutches at the wheel a little tighter, like maybe the intensity of his grip directly correlates to how well he’s about to do. “I think I’ve got it.”  “I believe in you,” Mike says encouragingly, shooting him two thumbs up.  Will shoots him a small, nervous smile and turns back to the matter at hand. He lets go of the brake, and the car instantly responds, beginning to crawl forward again at what Will considers to be a wonderful, beautiful speed – 3mph. He starts to ease off the clutch, making sure to go slower this time, waiting for the feeling of the bite Mike had promised – but he must mess up somewhere, because the car lurches forward again, coming to an abrupt halt. 

CH09 ORIGINAL OUTLINE + AUTHOR'S COMMENTARY

[sideblogdotjpeg]

feeling like. ep 60 was such a fantastic arc finale battle ep. and auugh. like so many things. LIKE .

the slow build up of tension over the ep felt really good and perfect, as it escalates from alexandrite being silly and goofy to. gargantuan cyberflesh horror. and how the dice were UNCANNILY perfect for it all. like. the nat 1 vs nat 20 roll for the town and suddenly the entire mood shifts and the stakes are so much realer, and personal. followed up by the nat 20 for the town! followed up by TWO callie crits and her dealing 130 DAMAGE like each turn!!!! like!!!!! AUGH... the. just the beats of it all was soo good and.

tying to that .. the character moments for this ep were so good !!! every character got their moment to shine in the battle. already discussed callie absolutely whomping fucking ass, but of course the smaller moments as well. offering to go and defend calders town. seeing the faewild sky and "i think i needed to leave to become worthy of it" - like and as the culmination of callies arc. from someone who was so scared and running away to. staying, standing, fighting, protecting. AND ITS GOOD.

then of course theres calder. i mean also the . ARC. of the only thing he wanted was not to be overprotected. wanting to be useful - like his brothers, people who had strength and value in the eyes of their people, big enough to defend their town. and he has come all the way here. he changes the tides of the battlefield in the town - and he does it with the attachments of his friends and the love of his family. and like... god. really crystalising his ethos in a way that is foiled so well against gowan. gowan who was too proud to ask for help. vs "i cant do it without you" "but damn does it feel good when your friends have your back" ... !!!! AYYEARGH. like. hes becoming the protector of his home! but maybe now, his home is so much bigger than the ice knife, and hes not fighting alone .... YOU KNOW.

AND SOL!!!!! sol to my knowledge only deals 30 damage this battle but. as a resident sol enjoyer i !!! am VERY MUCH CLAPPING AND CHEERING!! at the deeply supportive role he took on for this fight. like hes the first to get the ice knife away from alexandrite, he gives callie an extra smite, silvery barbs.... ! like the short rest realisation of how different the battle wouldve gone without that silvery barbs is .... ! SO ITS GOOD. and at the end that he was the one to get the final blow on alexandrite and it was for swag is ...

and! that part was obviously a joke! as is the entire "keep em guessing haha alexandrite cant predict what were doing!!!" thing. HOWEVER. relistening to the ezry arc, and their first interaction w alexandrite as we now know her ... i just. REALLY feel like this is the spiritual successor to "were duck team and were messy and were friends and we do everything together and we absolutely suck shit all day long and all night baby". theyre so fucking stupid is the thing. and theyre messy and stupid and constantly saying things that are weird and make no sense and completely and utterly baffling .... and thats DUCK TEAM!!! (theres also a point here where im overreading somewhat. but the part about Keepin em Guessin... one could POSSIBLY argue it interacts in a MAYBE DEEPLY INTERESTIGN WAY with . the idea of the calculated certainty of the AI, the calm and cold prediction of the diviners, and the wild freedom of the peregrines. idk!!! maybe!!! maybe you cld even say that what lies at the heart of duck team is their messiness and outofplaceness and love and care and refusal of the tragedy!!! even!! maybe!! but YEAH. lol random XD ! keep em guessin!)

also the thing that made me write all this which is like. ! the final victory lap scene is just. so wonderfully cathartic, esp with how tense this entire arc has been. its just. fuck yeah we won and all our friends and family are here and safe and riding on mammoths!!! i mean. FUCKING ALBINS BACK!!!! GREGORS HERE AND KICKIN ASS!!! THE MA GOBLIN BRIGADE!!! A WIN. and ... that bit of callie just sitting on the roof playing a guitar as she stares into the fae wild sky is ... its good.. its good..

and all that is maybe. half the reasons why ep 60 is so good. i didnt even get around to talking about the fucking EMILY AXFORD SONG WHICH IVE BEEN PLAYING NONSTOP ALL DAY SO. yeah. so i like this ep i guess

[freedomfireflies]

Okay but I’m still praying for a peachy subspace extra 🫡

Like the emotion Harry would feel realizing she trusts him enough to let herself fall into her subspace and be truly his. Especially the first time she would slip. He’d be so whipped and soft with her I know it.

No because it would really surprise him at first because she's normally incredibly vocal in bed. Telling him what she likes, whining, whimpering, so on and so forth.

And neither one of them really ever considered it, especially Peach because while it's happened before, it's not very often. And Harry never finds himself with partners that slip because he (truthfully) never has the kind of connection that would make them.

Today is different.

He notices that she gets super quiet and has this kind of far-off look in her eye, and he's worried he might have pushed her too far. So he turns off the camera and starts to cool down, touching her less, moving back.

But she starts to panic, thinking she's done something wrong. She's upset him. And it's such a strange color on her. Because Peach is never one to be this submissive, especially after he's turned the camera off.

And when he sees the tears well in her eyes while she grabs onto his hand to nuzzle her face into it, it hits him.

He freezes, eyes wide, blinking quickly. Trying to wrap his head around how they got here. Feeling an overwhelming sense of pride over how much she must feel safe with him but also slight terror because he hadn't thought their scene was that hard. But it must have been if she felt it best to slip away...

But now she's upset because he's pulled away and he needs to fix this. So, he kisses her. Kisses all over her face, her cheeks, her nose, her temple.

Tells her, "Hey, hey. S'okay, Peachy. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Just wanted you to take a breather. Make sure you're okay."

And she sniffles and says, "I'm okay. Wanna be okay for you. Miss you."

He smiles. "Yeah? I'm right here, my love. Don't have to miss me."

She pouts.

"Or do you mean you miss my cock, hm?" And he lays her back down, gentle hand guiding her thighs apart to see that she's still swollen and throbbing. "We can finish the scene if you want, honey. But only if you're sure."

"I'm sure," she nearly gasps, greedily grabbing at his shoulders to pull him down. "I'm sure, I'm sure. Please....please, Daddy."

And how could he ever say no to that face?

OKAY THAT'S JUST A SMALL SOMETHING TO TIDE US OVER UNTIL THE LARGER EXTRA BUT THAT'S BASICALLY HOW IT WOULD GO ASEFJEJF

[goddesspharo]

↻ FLIP FLOP: Jake's Pov from when he's awakes in Vegas.

[ask me for extras about my fics!]

↻ FLIP FLOP: the flip side of the waking up in Vegas scene at the beginning of can't fake what you can't break up with in Hangman's POV

(Also here now for housekeeping purposes!)

Jake's first extremely dramatic thought upon being yanked out of REM sleep by Phoenix's equally dramatic shrieking is that it feels like something died in his mouth and then that dead thing was unceremoniously moved to a shallow grave in his brain and now, in the cruel light of day, it is slowly rising from the spongy matter like a body washing up on shore at low tide – only there's not enough room in his scalp to accommodate the flotsam so his head feels like it's being split apart from the inside. He needs more sleep and a cup of industrial strength espresso, but he'd settle for Phoenix not ruining this for him – the this in question being Natasha looking flushed all over as she stands in the middle of his hotel room in her underwear and points menacingly at him with her phone while threatening to murder him for the crime of rocking her world – by reading Instagram captions out loud like he fucked a delusional Kardashian last night instead of her. (Jake blames Sammy for the fact that he is immediately able to clock that Khloe would be the delusional Kardashian who couldn't take a hint the morning after.) With a groan, Jake reminds Natasha that it's not a Vegas vacation if at least two people don't drunkenly wander into an Elvis chapel and take wedding selfies with The King. His mother has albums full of Jake dressed like Woody from Toy Story when he was in the first grade – that doesn't mean he was spending his days solving crimes instead of figuring out how the hell subtraction worked. Jake tells Natasha that the institution of marriage requires a little more than "pics or it didn't happen" to be valid while slowly stretching out his sore muscles. She has finally stopped yelling at him for three seconds – no doubt to marvel at the legal expertise he culled from watching reruns of The Practice – but when he looks up, what he discovers is even better than Phoenix losing the power of speech over his genius. Natasha Trace, the woman whose response to him flirting with her has always been to remind Jake that she'd be hard pressed to spit on him if he caught on fire – is shamelessly checking him out like someone who went for a test drive and now can't hide that she'd pay sticker price to drive this Mustang off the lot immediately. "I'm going to hop in the shower." Flashing Natasha a grin that is sure to infuriate her, he drawls in a low trickle, "Want to conserve some water with me?" Her face turns murderous within seconds as Nat slips on a hotel robe and loudly plots his demise. He'd make a crack about foreplay, but her grip on the hanger seems deadly. Jake settles for sauntering to the bathroom while whistling the Usher song that Gina played on repeat when Jake had a crush on the college sophomore his parents paid ten bucks an hour to teach them tennis one summer. Phoenix can deny that she's not hot for his bod as much as she wants, but his back looks like a subway map when he catches a glimpse of it in the bathroom mirror. It takes everything in him not to cry out when the scalding hot water hits the scratches, but Jake can't find it in himself to be too mad about it when he finds a red bird sketched onto his skin like a brand. Jake is still laughing about how proprietary Natasha is when he steps out of the bathroom a few minutes later and immediately needles her with, "You won't believe this, but I think you tried to draw a phoenix on my ass with a Sharpie last night!" He doesn't expect her to find it as funny as he does, but Jake is caught off guard when Natasha starts raging about paperwork instead.

[pinkestmenace]

+3 Weatherproof Outfits!

An adventurous life means visiting many environments. Now, sure, she's not made of Kleenex. Of course she's sturdy enough to survive something silly like the weather, teehee! ...But that doesn't mean a little extra protection isn't welcome. E-Even if it's just to tide her over until her body adjusts to the new planet's climate! (Use sunscreen and shade when you go to the beach, people. Or shrivel up into a crunchy li'l lobster, I guess. (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)ﻭ)

(I realised she's kinda, uh, bare when she's unarmoured. So how about some different outfits for different weather? I almost gave her a hawaiian shirt for the beach scene for maximum dadcore tourist vibes, but it became too visually busy with the shoes and the flower crown and glasses. That's gonna have to wait for the barbecue scene! (...I lied. There is no barbecue scene. (人✧⁠ω✧⁠) Fufufu...))

Masterpost

@kirbyoctournament

[celebratebleach]

I have enough theme suggestions left over for an extra day:

High tide

A moment in the rain

How a character's relationship with another has stayed the same.

Three characters giving up in different ways.

Fave scene from the Thousand Year Blood War Arc

Opposites

Swimwear

Sea creature

In Another World

A new look

Something silly

' If miracles only happen once, what are they called the second time?'

'...from the instant you find yourself on the battleground, both sides are evil.'

'And what of this 'despair'? I know it all too well… Because up until now. I've climbed up, kicked it in its teeth, and I've surpassed it over and over again just to make it to this very moment!'

If the first option of this poll wins, I'll do what I did with the other days and chuck these themes into a randomized generator and the top 3 results would be the themes for the day. Alternatively, we could vote for the top 3 themes; let me know if you'd prefer this (if I get more than 5 comments/reblogs saying they want to do this and the first option in the poll wins, I'll open a new poll for the themes tomorrow).

[dangakkisland]

Speaking of Nekomaru and Nagito, I really like the scene at the end of the Hope Arc in DR3 where Nagito talks to Makoto at length, and Nekomaru (and Akane) lift him up and carry him to their battleship. Since Nekomaru was the one who beat Nagito after the first trial in the school trip and left him unconscious, tied up and abandoned in the old lodge, I'm sure he didn't want to get involved with Nagito at that time, but the scene in the Hope Arc gives me the feeling that Nekomaru has accepted Nagito as his comrade and he thinks he should take care of Nagito himself. Also, Nagito shows no resistance when he is lifted up, so it feels like he trusts Nekomaru and Akane. It's a very short scene, but I think it shows that their relationship has changed, so I really like it. (Sorry, this isn't a question or anything, but since you said you like seeing them get along, I wanted to tell you that I'm also thinking about their relationship. I want to draw them one day!)

[You don't need to say sorry, as you can see I put my all into this, it was really fun I love asks like that! I love investigating my opinion with certain characters ❤️]

That was one of the reasons I liked the ending (mostly) of the Hope arc, they show interesting dynamics (even if it only shows in one scene for 1/30 of them). Actually, I was really interested in them, especially in chapter 3, I really hoped Nekomaru 'survived' the fight maybe he could sympathize with Nagito when they got despair disease...And everyone too; Akane would be an interesting one for him to see for sure!

(Since they both have illnesses that can kill them if they aren't careful enough and I am holding myself in a thin middle of Nagito never or rarely lies since when he got a despair disease and he became the liar type, he might have all those things he says...And he just over-dramatized some mental and physical disorder he has but that's a tangent I won't allow myself into)

They might have bonded in Hope's Peak/Despair arc for the same reasons and guarantee he speaks to everyone because a team with members who don't support each other isn't a team but a bunch of strangers, some members just need a push-in in the right direction. It was truly a shame everything happened so fast that we couldn't work out a way to show the dynamics when Nagito was in a calm and controlled environment before he exploded the gym plus ruined all the relationships he could have had at Hope's Peak Academy

That happens to Nekomaru too, I wished there was some extra content...He has a straightforward but complete story on why he is this way; It compels me more that he isn't harsh in his own right, more of a '''protective type''' but more allowed to be part of the group. It happens when you are in a hospital a lot you get protective of those around you clinging onto them when you feel like it got worse however it also makes you ''carefree'' in a sense when it is a chronic disorder you discover and you learn to have fun with it even with its limitations.

And Nekomaru's hospital buddy! I love him! I don't even know how he looks like! He sounds sweet and fun! Sweet and fun people only can make sweet and fun people..The only exception is when you are stubborn!

And I can't help but wonder if Nagito would have been different if he had someone like that and he was still alive...And I entered a tangent again! It's so easy to fall into rabbit holes when I talk about my favorite characters and their friendship and bonding, I love them having a great time.

About the scene itself (Apologies).. I have the belief that Nagito holds extreme respect for Akane for surviving the mystery he put on in chapter 5, she didn't solve it herself but by all means, she managed to push through to the end of everything even if the tides were pointing against it, Nekomaru not only put him on the abandoned building but sacrificed himself so they could all escape and not die of starvation which was a true act selflessness I would be surprised if he didn't hold them into high regard at all!

Compared to the first section this was comically short

Summary: I love them! I wish there was more content for them, they connect nicely with each other! People don't dare analyze Nekomaru enough, I really like him, Akane is also cool and awesome and Nagito is a member of the team like anyone else (when he is not committing arson and attempts of murder, he knows he needs to be absolutely contained)

And it was supposed to be longer...They are sabotaging me!! I can't even put it back it was the longest one..Ough.

[wings-of-ink]

First Devlog?

Hello everyone...boy, there are a lot of you already, still trying to digest that...

So, I gather that I should do these logs on occasion. I do not know how often, perhaps just when I have a few things to say. I will try not to ramble too much, but my fingies like to talk.

Anyway, I am working on chapter 3 right now. There’s some fun moments so far in it that I hope you’ll like, and we’ll get to meet Zahn, Duri'naan, and then Rundis. I’m trying not to rush because there are some exciting scenes that I’m eager to get to. I’ve outlined them to tide myself over until I get that far. There’s some quiet moments you’ll get to have as well, and right now I feel like that’s what I’m struggling with. Those areas of my story are like bridges to the next, more exciting, parts and sometimes I feel like they fall a little flat. But, I’m trying to keep in mind this is my first draft. I’ll go through it another time or two to perk things up. Those moments are still important for letting the MC get to know each RO.

My mind has been in a million directions lately too, and I’ve had a lot of ‘duh’ moments. I’ve done so much world building since I started this last year (around August/September I think), that I have pockets of important details that I kinda just forgot! So, I plan to re-read all the notes I’ve made and try to also put them into one place. I have some in my phone, in a notebook, and in no less than three folders on my laptop. It’s a wonder I have survived this many years…

What you can expect for coming updates…

-A couple fixes, of course – thank you to those who found some of those pesky buggy bois for me.

-A nicer front page, instead of being slapped with my ramblings, I’d like to actually have a nice start page. I’ll figure it out eventually, lol.

-I’ll be adding a name bank to the MC’s Nameday scene that will also show you what each name means, so if that is important to you, it’ll save you the internet search. If it tickles your fancy, the name selection will correspond in some way to the marks (names meaning "night" or "storm," etc.) so you can theme your MC a bit.

-Extra coding in case you decide to shorten MC’s given name to just “Ravi.” I did not once consider that anyone would do this, and my first play-tester – my own spouse – did….He told me about it since it made some dialog with Oswin make zero sense, and then I published the story without fixing it because I completely forgot about it.

-Different contrast color for dark mode links. I feel like I have drastically improved this with a new gold color. In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t use the gold before. I love it as an accent, I use it all over! The blue never felt 100% right, but my brain shut down after thinking about it too long. Here’s a sample and a (M) Zahn tease:

When can you expect an update?

I’d like to make my next update during the Amare Games Festival, ideally containing both chapters 3 and 4 since they go pretty tightly together. This will also insure that you meet the rest of the posse. It’s a tall order for both chapters to be submitted on time, and I don’t want to rush them either, but I’m going to try really really hard, lol. I will focus first on polishing chapter 3, so that no matter what, I can at least get it out in time.

Here’s a link to the post about it:

And this is the submission time frame: open from March 31st 2024 at 11:00 PM to May 1st 2024 at 12:00 AM

As a side message, should you want to read on…

I also wanted to give you all a big, like really big, heartfelt thank you. I have received so many kind messages and comments that I just can’t believe it. I am so happy (and honestly, genuinely shocked) that you’re enjoying my IF, and I’m motivated to work hard so you also enjoy each new chapter of your journey. There’s so many secrets I want to share with you about the world, and I am struggling to be patient myself, lol.

I am not usually a very open or social person, and I was scared for a long time to share anything I wrote. I reached a point in my personal life in the last few years where I just needed to embrace what I loved to do and share it with a community that shares in that love. I encourage you to do the same whether there is a story in your heart, music on your lips, or a paintbrush in your hands. Life is NOT about your 8-5. We may not be able to survive without it, but whatever moment you can, do what you actually love. Put away the those things that don’t matter, the things that stress you - including people, and make time for who you are.

Thank you all and take care!

~Lunan

[chairteeth]

Okay but consider: ASTRONOMY LESBIANS

This specific post is going to be me gushing over the astronomy potential Touka and Nemu have with each other and why it makes me feral, it's more me pointing out some things than any actual analysis. Still, here you go, have fun!

So, this is the thesis: Touka is the sun/day and Nemu is the moon/night.

First of all, night and day are intrinsically connected. The sun's light gives the moon its glow during the night and the moon remains present and visible during the day, if a little harder to see in the full light of the sun. The former sounds an awful lot like how Touka gave Nemu visibility to the general public through the website for her books and continues to do so on the regular, dutifully, and the latter is to me the same effect as any scene they're in together; everyone in-universe and outside of it always pays more attention to Touka, because she's the more boisterous one, louder, etc. The radiant sun, too bright to ignore compared to the soft glow of the moon.

Now, I love the moon's effect on the oceans on Earth. Its control over the tides is due to its gravity being strong enough that the tide is pulled slightly closer to it. If you look at when the tides are highest, you'll see that tides are always highest when the moon is directly overhead, but there's also another high tide on the opposite side of the planet. If you mapped it out, you'd get this oval shape of the tides, where a "tip" of the oval is always pointing at the moon. Well guess what, the SUN also does this! It's just less noticeable, but it's why low tide doesn't always happen when you think it would. And since they both do this, their effects can be combined! This is why the highest of tides always occur around full and new moons, with the effects being even stronger during lunar eclipses, and with solar eclipses being the strongest of them all, which probably added to the effect of ancient civilizations freaking out during them cause the tide was so high, it just added to the chaos of the sun being blocked out too. Tides are highest about the full and new moons because that is when the moon and the sun are lined up. Gee doesn't that sound familiar and like it could apply to a certain pair of idiots who work really well together (as per Ui's words).

Here's a helpful visual gif for the tide thing and some quotes from the National Ocean Service:

Together, the gravitational pull of the moon and the sun affect the Earth’s tides on a monthly basis. When the sun, moon, and Earth are in alignment (at the time of the new or full moon), the solar tide has an additive effect on the lunar tide, creating extra-high high tides, and very low, low tides — both commonly called spring tides. One week later, when the sun and moon are at right angles to each other, the solar tide partially cancels out the lunar tide and produces moderate tides known as neap tides.

And as a fun extra:

Once a month, at perigee, when the moon is closest to the Earth, tide-generating forces are higher than usual, producing above average ranges in the tides. About two weeks later, at apogee, when the moon is farthest from the Earth, the lunar tide-raising force is smaller, and the tidal ranges are less than average. When the Earth is closest to the sun (perihelion), around January 2 of the calendar year, tidal ranges are enhanced. At aphelion, when the Earth is furthest from the sun, around July 2, tidal ranges are reduced

So like. I don't think I need to point out the moon's distance from the sun and its effects here. Now let me go to something else: Touka and Nemu have a dual unit, the attribute of which is darkness. Here's a tidbit about it that I yoinked from another post:

Your pupils contract in response to visible light, but not all of the sun’s light is visible. During an eclipse, your pupils widen because it’s dark, but there’s an outer layer around the sun that mostly only puts out light that’s not visible to us, but that can still damage your retinas. Thus, looking at an eclipse makes your pupils open up like it’s dark, which lets more of the invisible damage beams in. The sun doesn’t get a critical multiplier on its damage when HP is low. Equipping the moon gives the sun a bonus to backstab.

And then I pointed out the dual unit and its attribute, like an eclipse. Such an apt metaphor. Now, this isn't all, though the astronomy rant is far less connected and organized than the other more essay-ish posts, but I just wanted to cover at least some of the bond things before I yell about why each of them fits their assigned astral body/time so well. Actually... Let's consider the solar wind for a second.

So, for those with less astronomy knowledge, here are the basics. The sun releases a continuous outflow of particles and radiation that we call the solar wind. The solar wind washes over the planets, moons and other bodies in our solar system, and every object, planet or person traveling through space has to contend with this. Our moon in particular has the scars (or bad tan) to prove it. Ever wondered what gives the moon that distinctive pattern of darker and lighter swirls? That would be the sun over there. Or, well, research suggests that the solar wind and the moon’s crustal magnetic fields (bubbles of "sunscreen") work together to give that pattern. See, here on Earth, we’re largely protected from the damaging effects of the solar wind, because it's magnetized, therefore Earth’s natural magnetic field deflects the solar wind particles around our planet so that only a small fraction of them reach our planet’s atmosphere. The moon however has no global magnetic field. It's magnetized rocks near the lunar surface that create those small, localized spots of magnetic field that I referred to as "bubbles of sunscreen" up there, because they kinda are acting like sunscreen by deflecting solar wind particles on a much smaller scale than Earth’s magnetic field. The surface of the moon isn't really made of "just rock" (it's called regolith, actually), and so as those particles flow toward the moon, they are deflected to the areas just around the magnetic bubbles, where chemical reactions with the regolith darken the surface. And there is Something To Be Said about this, something intimate about it... Something something accepting every part of someone else, something something being permanently marked and irreversibly changed by another (I've called them twin flames before)...

Here are some points to consider, particularly for Nemu:

They spend more time under the light of day (Touka, early riser, "rise with the sun" is very likely literal for her since she gets up long enough before school time to have more than enough time to do Things as per her quotes) vs awake at night (Nemu habitually staying up late to read and write, we have many lines about it particularly from the quotes, and a visual from the anime).

Nemu has been depicted dramatically in front of the moon twice, once in her intro in Arc 1 Chapter 7 and once in the anime, I believe final season's first episode? The flashback, right after they put Ui in Mokyu and have the whole exchange about it on the roof of the hospital.

In relation to the phases of the moon: as the moon goes around the Earth, different parts of it are illuminated by the sun, and we see a different amount of light reflected back at us, and I have decided that relates to how Nemu adapts seamlessly to whatever Touka's mood is because she just knows her that well (gestures vaguely at that sunset scene in Touka's MGS or any of the other times when Nemu knows it's not the right time to take a jab at Touka and so on and so forth), but honestly there's a huge number of gay interpretations of it. AND it's accurate to the way Nemu acts as a Magius, kind of, when it comes to the Feathers at least. People normally remember her as the Magius who was kindest to the Feathers (full moon, brightest guiding light), but she was also the one doing the brainwashing, giving the massacre orders, and delighting over her suggestion of using the Feathers as a shield (new moon, known as the dark side).

Feelings of being neglected/ignored/not noticed by passersby or people around her could be related to how the new moon is, literally Not Visible™️ to the naked eye except when it is silhouetted against the sun during a solar eclipse (COUGH). Plus, you could argue the fact that people love Nemu most when she's giving them something (light, full moon).

In terms of giving, let's hop over to Touka for a second:

The sun is constantly giving off energy. Light, heat, life. It's quite impossible to forget the sun is there, unlike the moon (or well it's more like you always sort of actively notice the sun, but not the moon due to its subtler presence). Aligns pretty well with Touka's.......... everything. Including the compulsion to take center stage. There is nothing else in the sky besides the sun during the day, it is alone in the heavens save for the subtle presence of the moon, which nobody else notices.

Then there's this post which I will quote here:

Big fan of sun motifs in characters not necessarily being about positivity and happiness and how they're so "bright and warm" but instead being about fucking brutal they are. Radiant. A FORCE of nature that will turn you to ash. That warmth that burns so hot it feels like ice. Piercing yellow and red and white. A character being a Sun because you cannot challenge a Sun without burning alive or taking everything down with them if victorious.

ALIGNS PRETTY WELL WITH TOUKA DOESN'T IT. Almost a little bit too literal in some senses! Being bright and warm does apply to her as well, mind you, she's bright in the intelligent sense and to some extent the temperament sense (though she is a lot less bright than she pretends to be with the very eerie cheerful mask she likes to wear), and she's warm and nurturing towards the people she cares about. Speaking of warm and nurturing, the sunlight makes plants grow, Nemu is a forest attribute in-game and has forest magic, nurtured by the fire of the sun (Touka, a flame attribute magical girl with the corresponding fire magic).

I've compared these two to binary stars in a fic before, but I really love their sun/day and moon/night possibilities! You can even interpret a few things like this:

Under a scorching sun, you are blinded, and in deserts caused by its rays you are likely to experience hallucinations, mirages. I can relate this to Touka's mask-wearing habits, for example. The sun is unyielding and you will never escape its effects completely no matter how hard you try. It's what allows life to exist and simultaneously also a force of destruction, much like fire itself. I could go on a related rant about how TouNemu's attributes really really fit them- I will stop myself before I do however.

Back to Nemu's side of things again. The night is often considered the most dangerous time of day pretty much everywhere around the world, but that's not quite right. It's because the night is obscured in darkness, quiet, secretive. You cannot know the night. It's fully possible that something will jump out at you at any point (assuming you're out and about), and you can never be 100% sure that nothing will. You have a higher chance of slipping, and good god if you've ever been outside in bumfuck nowhere with no lights around in the mountains or something on a new moon, you know very well how difficult navigation becomes without the moon's guidance

But, the night, especially in the East, is often considered shelter as well (from what I've gathered). The quietness aspect is retained over there, but it's seen in a more positive light, and the different attributes of the nighttime are more appreciated and respected compared to the West, in my experience digging into stuff at least. The night can easily be what soothes people after enduring the flames of the day. Whether literally because of the heat or just because for most people, daytime is work time, it's Getting Things Done time. Nighttime has always been more… for the self, to relax and to think. More intimate. Humans don't really work according to nature these days, but pieces of it are still present in how the night remains much quieter than the day, in how a teenager might feel safer, more raw and more connected with their true self in the dead of night on their phone under the covers than at any other time of the day, etc. It's a time of rest for a majority of living beings. Slower and less hectic than the daytime.

"What about those who are up at ungodly hours of the night still having hours-long conversations?" That's meaningful. It's necessary for the human mind, for our hearts. That's rest. It constitutes a "shelter" for the people in question. Those convos I'd bet are not about work or about stressors in their lives, but rather about things they find genuinely interesting and/or things they love. Or, alternatively, venting, yes, but even that counts as "unwinding" and reaching something closer to peace.

There's also something to be said about how Touka relies on Nemu so often (she says as much in her regular Tap 8 quote), and looks to her for guidance like the sailors of old looked up at the night sky for directions. Nemu is drawn to Touka like the moon is affected by the sun's gravity, and Touka loves her and studies her (she REALLY pays attention to Nemu, as I've pointed out before) like humans have always studied and observed the night sky.

AND also Touka = lantern, light. Nemu = sleep. Just saying.

COUGH. Yes. So. This has been my series of thoughts on TouNemu astronomy lesbianism. I'm pretty sure you can see how each point relates to the characters pretty clearly.

[senka-mesecine]

Requesting pretty please with sprinkles and cherries on top a post-firefight kiss scene between reader and Barnes, to get the blood boiling and the tensions high, loving your posts so far 🫶

Battlepumped.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

-

Whenever they'd haul the wounded in, it would be like a wave.

The uneasy silence at camp suddenly torn to shreds by the whirling roar of helicopter blades and the shouts, oh, so many shouts; that's when you'd know there's been men hurt, cut, shot at, those in need of urgent care. Patching up. It was a habit. A well-learned ritual by now --- one you'd brace yourself for instinctually, like a swimmer taking a deep dive underwater. Sergeants leading the way, dragging their own men and you'd wait for them to flood the makeshift quarters like a tide, unceremoniously, limping, stumbling over each other, grunting and begging for relief. Except what you don't expect today of all days to be different is Sergeant Barnes somehow making it to the infirmary first; like he practically flew here, carried on a wind along with the smell of exhaust smoke, burning vapors and death. How could one man be so fast? To this day, you could never quite get used to it. How silent he was. He stands at the entrance to the bunker and the rest of his men haven't even properly left the chopper yet, nearly startling you. You do jump, hoping to god he hasn't noticed even though you were certain he did. His gaze could see through skin, you got the impression. What you observed in all your time as a combat nurse was to allow most things to be like water under the bridge; do your job, do it well and ignore almost everything else you could. His eyes, though? They're bloodshot and eerily still. Assessing you. The barrel of his M-16 still smoking at the tip, like it's been shot just seconds ago. Face nearly tar black with dried up mud, sweat and blood that didn't look like it was his own. You weren't sure if that comforted you or not. Was hard to decide. It's like the natural elements themselves made a mosaic of camouflage out of his scarred visage, covering his own pigmentation in dirt and muck. Barnes was almost effortlessly frightening on an ordinary day, but today ---

He says nothing. Nothing at all.

So you do decide you must, used to his habit.

The man was simply the way he was and that was that on that.

-"Sergeant! Anyone wounded out there? Do they nee ---"-

You can't even properly finish your panicked sentence, about to inquire how many beds and bunks need to freed up for the wounded, talking solely for the formality of it, approaching him with the intent to ask firsthand, pulled forward in a gust of energy and the space separating you instantly grows smaller causing you to think within an instant that the man was in shock about to snap your neck in a frenzy of adrenaline; you've witnessed soldiers doing stuff like that in post-combat stupor. Instead, you're kissed. Just like that. Without words, rhyme or reason. Hard, heavy and lacking any pomp or ceremony. You moan and whine into his mouth and takes some odd five seconds to even realize it's happening, your hands struggling and wiggling around like worms with nowhere to slither off to once his arms interlock around your waits, holding you to him. Sergeant Barnes, the man who's barely said a word to you since you arrived on base camp was giving you an open mouth kiss. Libido tended to skyrocket for servicemen out in the bush; you've took note that too. Read about it in theory. Been warned about it. But it's only when he separates from the contact he initiated that you have time to process it all, coming up for breath, watching him simply walk around you like nothing at all happened, strolling deeper into the infirmary, eyes still on you, briefly, as the soldiers roll in, carrying their own on their backs, in their arms, on stretchers, leaving you to gasp, standing on the threshold. Nobody saw a thing. Your shoulders stiffen, panic settling in. He had a minute of extra time and he took it. Barnes barks an order at someone and you're mute, wondering what the hell just happened and ended as abruptly as it did and if you've imagined it all, reeling from the stress; rolling up your sleeves and getting down to work, quickly wiping your face of the residue of his own with a nearby rag, hiding all evidence.

Your head and the room around it spinning, drowning you in intrusive thoughts.

Your ears fill with water; you take the dive --- his seal burned into your mouth.

Over too soon, you unwittingly think, taking a needle to someone's open gash.