#and the one about returning from exile as ones in a dream

[magpie-trove]

O LORD, my heart is not proud,

nor are my eyes haughty;

I busy not myself with great things,

nor with things too sublime for me.

R. In you, Lord, I have found my peace.

Nay rather, I have stilled and quieted

my soul like a weaned child.

Like a weaned child on its mother's lap,

so is my soul within me.

R. In you, Lord, I have found my peace.

Ps 131

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.

Warnings: little detail of smut

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.

“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.

He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.

His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.

Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.

Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.

~

Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.

And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.

He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.

You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.

He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.

“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.

“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.

“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.

“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.

~

“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.

The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.

Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.

He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.

The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.

You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.

He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.

He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.

You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.

You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.

Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.

“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.

“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.

But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.

You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.

“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.

"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.

"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.

"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.

"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.

You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.

He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.

Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.

More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.

Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.

[jacesvelaryons]

His Chosen Bride (Senator!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol Reader).

Chapter 1

masterlist

series masterlist

excerpt

summary: senator coriolanus snow seems on top of the world with everything in his life ahead of him except for one thing. the perfect bride. in his pursuit, your life changes forever.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank you everyone for your patience as I prepared this!! i hope you all love it and show your support through likes, reblogs and especially comments of what you thought! i love hearing what my readers and other people in the fandom think about my work, so any of your thoughts would be appreciated.

requests OPEN

Upon his return to the Capitol, his reputation restored, wealth acquired from the Plinths who so generously named him the heir to their grand fortune, his path to power was paved for him and he knew he just had to take the strides to get to the prize. The Presidency.

Coriolanus Snow, scion of one of the oldest and most elite of bloodlines of the great Panem families was home, his shameful exile to District 12 remembered by no one and purged from the registry.

Enrolled in university and an apprentice gamemaker, he was eventually promoted to become Senior Gamemaker upon Dr. Gaul’s semi-retirement and her preparation to hand off the reins to her protégé. Her brain child whom she molded from the vestiges of his sorrow and pain, of his loss in the districts and what hardened him into the man he was now.

When he graduated with honours from the political science department, it was only a few months before he was elected in a landslide to become the youngest Senator in Panem’s history, relying on his contributions to the recent games, memories of his late parents to those of a certain age to secure his win.

He would have considered re-election for another term before advisors of his and other cabinet members of the old, sickly President Ravinstill were close to swearing their support but all echoed the same thing that he lacked, they said. It was not his youth, he was wise for his age they said, but he was not married. If he had a wife, they said - they would be on board for his presidential election. And it seemed that election would be sooner than later, even before his first term finished.

Coriolanus needed to find a wife, not just of good breeding, but of the most impeccable lineage, from among the most illustrious hundred or so families of Capitol society. It was a given it would be purely political and strategic, someone whom he could not love and open his heart to after his previous tragedy pursuing such.

The perfect bride. The search for the perfect companion, the woman whom he would call his wife, his future first lady, and mother of his heirs. The ideal woman who would bridge the gap between his dreams to make them a reality.

He could not just choose the first possible candidate recommended to him or that caught his eye, Coriolanus had to devise a thorough, multi-step testing process to find his perfect wife, his bride.

A rigorous procedure would be curated in finding her. Interviews, tests, exams, genealogical inquiries, fitness tests, and practice scenarios will be prompted from eligible candidates, already filtering through those only from the old, grand families upon application.

Digging through his family library into the latest edition handbook of noble and elite families of the Capitol’s upper class, the creme de la creme, ignoring recently disgraced clans, ones full of scandal and controversy, with plenty of illegitimate children, and extinct ones rotting in poverty nearly like his own had he not reversed their fortune.

He scheduled a meeting with his advisors and closest allies on creating the program, the selection process, examinations and interrogation, and how to make the announcement for the families of these eligible girls to put their names in, with their consent or not.

Coriolanus Snow was born from the upper echelon of society, and only deserved the best woman with whom he would continue his lineage with and hail his presidency with. No one had dared, rather self-important he could argue if he cared, to make as many girls clamour for his attention rather than to propose to a woman of his choice.

Just as he was about to put the book down and shut it closed, a name caught his attention. Yours. Your lineage, accomplishments, your etiquette were second to none, and he had to have you. At all costs. He would burn heaven and hell, but the question remains - would he win you over? Or will he have to force your hand no matter what?

Besides, he requires others to choose from, even if you are the most qualified. It would not do well for your ego to have the satisfaction you were chosen for. He wants you to want it, to beg for it, claim it and aspire to be one worthy to be by his side, motivated by the competition who would slit your throat and ruin your reputation for it.

And yet a lingering thought crept up his mind. He had brought life back into the Hunger Games, that was on its dying breath before his arrival, why not another? Everything is a game if you try hard enough.

…

A brightly lit room surrounded you as you grabbed a few more pieces of dandelions and baby’s breath bunches for your bouquet, in your floral arrangement lessons for the week. Under the watchful eye of your teacher, a premiere florist who is hired by the Capitol’s elite for the most fashionable and well-sought events every season.

Hailing from one of the oldest families among the Capitol’s blue bloods, your family may not be the wealthiest but definitely prosperous to be among them, yet your lineage is prominent even before Panem’s founding, the most ancient of them all.

In your family home’s perfectly manicured garden, you immerse yourself in the arrangement, something that would impress your teacher yet also something you would find pleasant in a vase by your study. No way would someone of your heritage be found associating with anything subpar.

After your studies at the Academy, your lessons and tutoring would never end, usually something different for each day. Piano, ballet, etiquette, floristry, household management, painting and so on.

As you gathered a crimson bow around the branches of your bouquet, you could hear murmurs among the uniformly dressed maids and servants around the stately home, as your mother jaunted towards you in her glossy designer heels.

“Yes, mother?” You greeted politely, observing the unreadable expression on your mother’s face.

She approached you carefully, gently taking your hands in her own, soft and having never experienced hardship.

“A great honour has been bestowed on you, daughter. A promising Senator has taken a liking to you, and wants you to be considered for his future bride.” Your mother smiles in celebration and pride, and your brows furrow in consternation.

“A Senator as old as father? A man old enough to be my grandfather-”

“Hush, darling. He is young, from a proper family of the elite family unlike those Plinths, new money scum. Senator Coriolanus Snow, the son of late General Crassus Snow and his wife Victoria Snow. He is only twenty four, I think you would like him.” She brushes your hair behind your ears, but you turn away from her, pushing her hands away.

“Twenty four, when I am eighteen?”

Your mother shrugs. “It is the way of the world I suppose. I was your age when I met your father. Eighteen and he was twenty one, a match fit for the sort like us.”

“You mentioned I was being considered but no outright proposal or courting has begun. What do you mean?”

She unveiled a large envelope she was holding behind her back, taking it out for you before a gold hued canvas invitation was unveiled.

Dear Y/N L/N and family, I hope this letter finds you well. As I have progressed through my career as a gamemaker and politician, it has been too long since I have navigated through life without a lifelong companion and wife.

You are a woman of unblemished character, accomplished in many ways, intelligent, well-bred and would fit the bill of what a man like me seeks in a future partner.

There is no guarantee that you must receive this invitation and accept, but rather that your name will be included in a pool of candidates to be considered. I hope that you and your family would view this as a position of honour, and even if you shall not be chosen, you will be compensated for your time and this shall only raise your standing in our society.

Please reply to the number and address attached below with your response, and I would be beholden and pleased to hear if you would put your name forward to possibly become my future First Lady.

Sincerely, Senator Coriolanus Snow

You could not believe it, the humiliation of not being asked directly for one’s hand in marriage but having to compete with other ladies of society and grovel for his attention.

“Are you and papa seriously making me do this? The Hunger Games to be someone’s wife and heir maker?!”

Your mother sighs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms. “You do not understand, child. I have heard of other elite families whose daughters, sisters, nieces such as the Heavensbees, the Cardews, Dovecotes, among a few have been invited and all have accepted. No one would even think to refuse a Snow!”

“But it is not guaranteed. How would I not be offended if he did not make a guaranteed offer but wants me to participate like I am in a beauty pageant. I have to close off even entertaining other suitors and I am not even assured that I will not be left dry and humiliated if I was not chosen.”

“Your grandmother was Miss Panem many years ago before the war and those rebels ruined everything, I am sure he will choose you. Even if he did not, any other unmarried peer of yours would scoop you up in no time, that if Snow perceived you as someone potential, they are from the cream of the crop.”

You sighed, putting down your shearing tools and your bunches of daisies and baby’s breath. You never liked roses.

“You have always aimed for the stars, daughter. Would you pass on an opportunity like this or be forgotten to the tombs of time?” Your mother suggests, walking over to you with a guiding hand on your shoulder. “Choose wisely if you want to make something of yourself, to not pass on opportunities like this.

Golden letter in hand, you stared intensely at the dark line above your name, signifying whether you would submit your name or not. With a bold stroke of your ink pen, you sign your fate and future away. I agree to participate.

Let the games begin.

His Chosen Bride Taglist:

(if your name is bolded, I put in your user but it didn't show up when prompted so I'm not sure if you got notified!) Please let me know if you'd like to be added and reminded every time I update.

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[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 In Exile.

Post prison Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: When your romantic relationship with your co-worker is discovered by your superiors, everything falls apart. You both have to decide which one of you will leave the team.

Words: 2,4k.

TW: so much angst without happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I wanted to thank you for the 500 followers🩷 It really makes me happy because when I first started writing here, I was just experimenting.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You always knew this would eventually come to light.

It was only a matter of time before the way your eyes and Spencer's eyes released hearts when you saw each other was noticed by the profilers and agents who saw you on a daily basis. With the two of you working so closely together and obviously bonding even in the few hours you spent together outside of work, rumors and theories about what kind of relationship you had would sooner or later spread around the place. And you both knew that would happen from the first time your lips touched, and any professional barriers you maintained were instantly broken.

You had tried so hard to ignore the fact that you found him attractive since the first time you set foot in the FBI offices, almost two years ago now, when you introduced yourself to the team and he was the only one who gave you a small smile instead of an awkward handshake. You don't know exactly when that simple thought in the back of your mind started to mutate into an attraction that made your hair stand on end every time you were paired with him on a case because he had more experience and you complemented each other well. One day you just woke up feeling weird every time you thought about how bright his eyes were, and then some time later, on one of the cold nights you spent trying to solve cases as Luke's partner during the months Spencer was in prison, you began to miss him intensely, even saying his name so many times by accident. You felt so silly all the way home, imagining that he was there, just a few seats away, and that he would get up at any moment to talk to you...so silly.

For him it was different, he knew something was special about you from the first time you were put to work with him, when you didn't ask a single question about how the place worked because you knew the rules and protocols by heart long before. There was something about your need to go after perfection now that you had the job of your dreams that made him move and start feeling an automatic need to protect you and prevent at all costs the things he had seen a job like yours do from happening to you as well. However, that didn't justify the times he stared at you for more than five seconds while you were distracted for no apparent reason, or the times he said out loud to his colleagues that he saw nothing but good intentions in you. His feelings were only obvious to himself when an unsub wounded you in the middle of the investigation, when Spencer had gone back to the car to get some images for the interrogation and left you alone, only to return to find you wounded on the floor with little pulse. He hadn't felt this scared about losing someone in years, he thought his brain had been wired to expect any loss after so many. But you were so different.

Everything was different between the two of you. So perfect, so special and real that you delusionally believed that a relationship you always knew was forbidden could work out well.

But the consequences of your actions had suddenly hit you like a surprise attack, knocking you to the ground and beating you relentlessly. It hadn't even occurred to you that on any given Tuesday, as you were clearing the table to go to your apartment after successfully closing a new case, Emily would summon you urgently to her office with a guilty look on her face. The last thing you expected was that Reid would be there too, waiting for you to find out. And of course, everything that happened next was a thousand times more unexpected.

Apparently, your relationship was already known to everyone, including your superiors. And because of this, one of you would have to leave the team. Be transferred elsewhere or resign because it was felt that a couple could not work effectively together. And you only had a week to think about it and make a decision.

From the day the news broke and you left your boss's office, there was a noticeable lack of conversation between the two of you. And the fact that you were together on every single investigation made it worse, especially when it was your turn to be alone with him.

At present, neither of you felt comfortable talking as you walked to your car after talking to the families of the victims of the case you were investigating. Even though the street was completely empty, you both kept the respectful distance you should have kept before this disaster. The same distance that had become automatic over the past few days.

“We can't ignore this conversation forever, can we?” Your voice echoed in the place as you paused before opening your car door and turned to face him, attempting to discern the thoughts that were likely racing through his mind.

“I'm afraid we can't.” Spencer replied, his expression neutral. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair before getting in the car and waiting for you two to talk inside.

You followed him to the car and, in your haste, closed the door behind you with a bit more force than you intended. After the loud sound, a silence fell over the car, and you both sat quietly for a few moments.

“It's been days now. I think we need to talk about what's going on.” You finally spoke, looking straight ahead, trying not to look at him.

Spencer leaned back in the car seat and sighed deeply, his fingers drumming nervously on his thighs. He knew you were right, but he feared much more than he let on about the conversation and especially the consequences of the things that would be said. Something in him wanted to prolong his uncertainty as long as possible, to avoid facing an unwanted future.

“I know.” He said after a few seconds in a quiet voice. “But...What do we say to each other? It's a lose-lose situation no matter what we do.” He added in a dejected tone.

A strong pain seized your chest as you heard his words. He was right; no matter what happened, the two of you would lose something. And there was no way around it.

You finally turned to look at him, your expression a mixture of sadness and determination before you spoke. “I know, I know.” You admitted. “But we have to decide what we want to lose.”

Low blow, so low.

“But what if...what if we don't want to lose anything?” He asked softly, his eyes searching yours for some hope that wasn't there.

It felt like a crossroads, like you couldn't hide or escape anymore. You both loved your work and loved each other, but you couldn't have both. They were clearly incompatible at the moment.

You took a moment to collect yourself before responding. “I don't know.” You admitted. “We can't have it both ways. Either us, or our work.”

“And what do you want to lose?” He asked slowly, closing his eyes for a moment before he heard your answer, bracing himself for the impact.

You took a deep breath, thinking carefully about his question before answering. You were head over heels for Spencer. You'd never imagined you could be so in love with anyone. You couldn't imagine your life without him now that you'd already spent so much time together. He really was everything you always thought was extinct, every high expectation that used to make you believe you would die without a love that didn't cause you grief. But the BAU...It had been your dream job for as long as you could remember. You had worked so hard to get the position you currently held, investing years of your life and sacrificing countless hours to be the best at everything and making it possible without anyone's help.

“It's not that I want to lose something, I raised the situation wrong.” You tried to explain, but stumbled over your own words and ended up staying silent for a few seconds under his expectant gaze.

Spencer listened intently to your words, his heart heavy and his mind full of conflicting thoughts that tore him apart inside. He desperately wanted to be selfish, to stay with you and the team, to carry on as you were without worrying about anything. But he knew that was impossible without serious consequences for both of you.

“What are you trying to say?” He asked, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“I mean, I don't want to lose anything, but I feel like I have to. I think we both feel the same way.” You had a hard time expressing yourself and forming the sentences you wanted to say in your mind. “And it's inevitable to ask what our priorities are.”

“And…what are your priorities?” He asked you quietly, dreading your answer but guessing what it was going to be.

You shuddered at Spencer's question. The moment of truth had arrived and you would have to lay everything out on the table, including the cards you didn't like so much. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting nervously with your fingers for a few moments before lifting your eyes to meet his.

“This job, you know how much I wanted it. And my career-”

As you spoke, his expression didn't change at all. I had a feeling this was going to happen. He knew you loved your job, that it was your passion, and that you had fought years for it. He tried not to feel hurt by it, but he couldn't help but feel a slight pang in his chest when he heard you say that his name wasn't first on your list.

“I understand.” He said gently, placing his hand close to yours to show he wasn't angry or anything like that. “I know how important this job is to you, and I respect that. You have every right to prioritize your career. I just want you to be happy.”

The atmosphere in the car was somewhat tense and uncomfortable. The only sound that could be heard was the slow, controlled breathing of the two of you. Spencer's heart felt heavy in his chest, as though it might burst out at any moment. He couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps allowed his vulnerability to cloud his judgment, if he had fallen in love too quickly, or if he had been too hasty in trusting that love could finally work for him. He chided himself for allowing himself to fall so deeply in love with you, knowing that the odds of it working out were not particularly high. Given his unfortunate streak of bad luck and the seemingly unbreakable curse that seemed to be upon him, driving away every person he loved.

“But what about you? What do you want?” You asked, your voice a gentle whisper.

Spencer's heart beat a little faster as he considered your question. What did he want? Well...he wanted to stay with you and the team, and he wanted to be able to love you publicly, hold your hand, and go out with you without having to worry if anyone saw you two. He wanted more than stolen kisses, secret rendezvous, and late-night text messages. But he also knew it was a dream that was perhaps a little selfish and unrealistic for many reasons.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to push down the wave of emotions that threatened to overcome him. As he spoke, his voice was shaky. “I...I want to be with you, more than anything. But I also know how hard you've worked to get to where you are. And I don't want to take that away from you.” He said with an aching heart. “And I also like my job, I've had it for years...that's all I've ever had.”

“So what does that mean?” You couldn't help but frown, feeling a little defensive all of a sudden, though you didn't mean to take it out on him. “That they should transfer me because you've been at BAU longer? I'm pretty sure that's what they'll do.”

Needless to say, that was bound to happen. After all, Reid was a genius, while you were just a disposable agent who had taken a foolish chance for love.

Spencer couldn't help but take notice of the defensive tone in your voice, feeling a pang of hurt, but he pushed those feelings aside and tried to keep his cool. He took a deep breath before responding.

“No, that's not what I meant-” He was quick to rebut, but you cut him off before he can continue.

“But that's what's going to happen, isn't it?”

“Is that really the only thing that matters to you?” He asked quietly, his expression tinged with sadness.

“Of course not.” You replied, frustration creeping into your voice. “You know that's not true. But I can't just ignore my career. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I've made sacrifices-”

He interrupted you, his voice low and earnest. “And so have I.” He said, his eyes fixed on you. “I’ve also made sacrifices, for us. I’ve kept this relationship a secret, I've lied for you. I’ve put myself in danger for you. And I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, because I love you.”

Your heart raced as you listened to his impassioned words. You knew he loved you, but hearing him say it aloud, despite everything that was happening, still had the power to knock the wind out of you. You felt guilty immediately for your outburst, knowing that it wasn’t directed at him, but at the situation you found yourself in, at the unfair choices you were forced to make.

“You know I love you too.” You said, your voice quieter now, full of pain and unspoken words. “But we can't expect Emily to cover for us or try to do anything else for us, and we can't keep sneaking around like thieves.”

“What should we do then? If none of us are able to leave the team?” He asked with no real intention of hearing the answer.

After a brief pause, during which you appeared to be searching for the most appropriate way to phrase your response, you finally spoke. “Maybe we should leave something else.”

“Us?”

“Us.”

What a scary way to end.

[firelordsfirelady]

IV. Outburst

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1167

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here. 

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Zuko made no mention of the cookies the next morning, but I anticipated as much from the Prince. The crew, however, raved about my cookies and were quite happy to hear that I would make them plenty of cookies during our time together. I kept my promise because every full moon I would make the crew a batch of cookies and then practice my water bending on the deck before heading to bed. Of course, I never let Zuko or Iroh be out of the cookie receiving as I would deliver their plates before going to bed. 

Thus began my new daily routine of lending a hand in the kitchen or helping with the dishes. I often found myself aiding in other chores around the ship, which only served to aggravate Zuko more. Zuko always made sure to make remarks about how informal of a princess I was, so I made it my mission to find ways to annoy the Prince further. Let’s just say that I was very good at it. 

The first time Zuko saw me mopping the deck, he made a snide comment that earned him an accidental flick of some water from the mop bucket. 

“Forgive me, Prince Zuko,” I had teased him that day. “I am merely just a princess who doesn’t know how to handle the mop.” Iroh hid his small chuckle at my comment, knowing all too well that I was more than capable of handling the simple mop. I think he found it mildly amusing that I teased the Prince often, and this served to agitate the Fire Lord’s son further.

Despite the banter from Zuko,  I had grown to enjoy life traveling around on a ship. As a young girl, I had dreamed of what it would be like to see the world outside of the Tribe, but I quickly realized that as the princess I would never have those opportunities. Especially since after the Avatar disappeared from the world a century ago, the nations decided to sequester away from each other to protect themselves.

With Zuko on the quest to find the Avatar, he has been researching the previous avatars. We have been to several Avatar shrines across the nations and have been frequenting the other Water Tribes. Zuko was sure that the next avatar would be a Waterbender, and so we stayed near in case the Avatar made his appearance. Each time Zuko got a hint or a tip that there was a chance of the Avatar appearing, the ship would speed to the new destination. Disappointment met Zuko at every new stop, and I felt my heart break more as I watched the hope slowly die from his eyes. Yet, at the next whisper of a sign from the Avatar, Zuko would begin the cycle all over again.

The months slowly turned into years, and Iroh and I met regularly to drink tea together. During our tea visits, Iroh would tell me stories of dragons and the origin stories of Firebending, and, in return, I shared the stories of the Water Nation and our origin. I enjoyed listening to Iroh’s great accomplishments and was glad that I had found a friend in Iroh.

While my friendship with Iroh grew, I could not say the same about my relationship with Zuko. Three years of the same routine with Zuko had begun to wear the hope in me down. I tried my best to make an effort with Zuko in hopes that we might be able to at least tolerate each other. I gave him cookies every full moon, and I offered information that I read at the shrines regarding the avatar that might help Zuko. I did get a small glimmer of hope when he stopped calling me an informal princess after the first six months of life on the ship. After two years, there was light banter between us that was somewhat jovial, but the banter was more teasing than anything else.

That all changed today when Zuko had met another dead end in his search for the Avatar. Once we arrived back at the boat, Zuko’s anger was palpable as he stalked on to the deck. Iroh’s face was a look of concern as he watched Zuko clench and unclench his fists. I chewed my bottom lip as I slowly walked onto the deck behind Iroh, who shared a concerned look with me. My heart increased its pace in my chest as I opened my mouth to say something to the Prince.

“Zuko—“ I started, but Zuko whipped around on his heel and his golden eyes were bright with rage.

“You don’t get the right to call me Zuko.” He snapped in anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing princess who doesn’t understand her place.” My breath hitched as I prepared myself for whatever else he was about to say. “I can understand why my father wants me to find the Avatar, but I can’t begin to wrap my head around why the hell he wants me to marry you.”

“You’re prancing around this ship like it’s a vacation home. Cooking with the crew, cleaning the decks, and not to mention you’re waterbending during the full moon.“ Keeping my face straight, I felt hurt cloud my heart as Zuko spoke his next words with so much hate. “You make cookies to compensate for what you lack as a person. You’re a pathetic excuse for a princess, and I hate that you’re my betrothed.”

Zuko was breathing heavily as he finished his rant, and I swallowed the lump in my throat in a pathetic excuse to calm the tears forming in my eyes. Silence fell upon the entire boat as I composed myself. Part of me wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t the only one suffering here. A tiny part of me wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of ice and then walk away. Another part of me wanted to hug him because I could see he was frustrated, and I was the only person who he was set on taking his anger upon.

I did none of those things as I shook my head and walked away. His words cut me deep, but I refused to let him see the tears that silently fell from my eyes as I made haste to my bedroom. Once behind the security of the closed door, I let the tsunami wave of tears flow as I cried into my pillow.

After a few hours of crying, I lay in bed and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes were no doubt red and puffy from the amount of crying I had done. Though my eyes burned, I could not tempt my body into a thoughtless slumber. So, instead of sleeping, I got up from bed and lit the oil lamp on my desk. I grabbed some blank pieces of paper and a pencil then began doing the one thing that would distract me the most right now: draw.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @hypnoticbeing

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | vi.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

An eternity seems to fly by as you wait for Coriolanus to do what you’re too terrified to do on your own. During the agonizing minutes, you picture William’s face. The confusion, the hurt. Tears skip down your cheeks as you curl over the blankets, knees against your chest.

Hopefully your reckless actions haven’t ruined what you two have. Maybe one day, you’ll even jest about it, the pre-wedding jitters that caused you to hide for a week.

It’s the meager hope you cling onto as the soft tap on the door draws you from your thoughts.

Coriolanus nudges the door open, a silver tray between his hands. A matching porcelain kettle and cup sit on the tray.

The mattress sinks as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing the steaming teapot at your bedside. Your gaze drags over the colorful roses painted on the porcelain set. 

Tearful eyes rising to his face, you ask “H-How did it go?”

His long fingers drape over your cheek, wiping your tears as he smiles down at you. “Everything’s alright.” His deep soothing voice brings you comfort as it rolls over you. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, just like I promised you.” He collects the tea cup from the tray. The steam rising from it caresses your face.

“It’s my own personal blend of chamomile, peppermint and lavender, for your nerves.”

“I don’t need that.”

Concern sways in Coryo’s blue orbs, his thumb collecting another stray tear.

“You had an emotional day. It’ll help you sleep, trust me.”

You don’t reply, laying the side of your face against the pillow. Do you even deserve to sleep soundly after causing the people in your life so much unnecessary distress?

Maybe this is what you deserve, unending nights wrestling with your own mind while you drown in a river of your own tears. After all, if you hadn’t overindulged in alcohol that night, you wouldn’t be here. You still remember the way Coryo described it. Were you truly that desperate to bury Sejanus’ memory, to forget?

Coriolanus strokes the crown of your head.

“I just want you to get one good night of rest. You need it. Do you really want to spend the entire night torturing yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

For a while, silence hangs between the two of you, Coriolanus letting you weep as he patiently cups your face. The aromatic scents of the herbs he mixed in the tea tickle your nose. You have to admit, it smells heavenly. Like peace. The thing you’re craving most at this very moment. For your thoughts and emotions to fall silent, allowing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.

So you surrender.

You sit up and graciously accept the cup Coryo offers you. As soon as the first few drops of the warm liquid coat your tongue, a heady, pleasant feeling swaddles your mind. It makes your body feel heavy, pleasant warm tingles swirling over your flesh.

“I’m starting to feel…”

Coryo’s beaming face starts blurring in your line of sight. Your grip on the cup weakens. He assists you in holding it, tipping the rim against your lips so you gulp another sip.

“Drink more. All of it.” You heed his instruction. The drowsiness grows tenfold. Your lids sag. Your body slumps over the pillows. You feel the soft brush of Coriolanus’s lips on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

You awake from the best sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, a wide smile stretching over your lips as you unfurl from the sheets.

Unlike the nights before, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying or tossing and turning in bed.

You pivot to the sun rays spilling from between the curtains. You bask in the rejuvenating warmth kissing your skin. For a while, you stay like that, in awe that your mind isn’t crowded with anxious thoughts. Instead, you’re calm, rested, your head light as feathers. Even your grief is a faint noise when it’s usually so loud, its uproarious presence twisting your heart first thing most mornings. 

It’s a newfound serenity you haven’t known in many weeks.

Even the bone-deep ache sitting in your limbs cannot cast a pale on the day. As you step in the rose-scented bath that’s been drawn for you, the soreness lingers. You grimace a little.

Perhaps you slept so heavily, your entire body is tense from it.

But as you lie back and let the hot water work its magic, the pain starts to fade. You let the strange sensation melt away, smiling once more.

You enjoy your bath. A bright, wonderful day awaits you.

When you’re done, you put on one of your favorite day dresses and hop down the stairs.

You find the entire Snow clan having breakfast in the dining room.

Coriolanus peeks from above the morning paper, his face brightening as his gaze flicks over you.

As you approach the empty chair near Grandma’am, Coriolanus rises and pulls it for you.

“Good morning,” you chime while plopping into your seat.

Tigris beams at you. “Good morning. I see someone’s feeling better.”

You tuck your hands into your lap as a maid places a scrumptious plate of eggs and meat in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and you pick up your fork, excited to dig into the food. You haven’t had a proper meal since you left Ma and Dad’s house.

Although, even that is a fuzzy memory, as you can’t remember the last time all of you sat down and had a proper breakfast as a family since Janus passed away.

It’s been too hard.

Shoving the fork into your mouth, you acquiesce, “Much better.” You hum as the flavors melt on your tongue.

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip quirk as he observes you. He returns to his seat and bends forward.

“I take it you’ve had a restful night, princess?”

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. I don’t know what’s in that tea exactly but it works wonders.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to experiment with many natural remedies while working under Dr Gaul.” A glint dances in his blue eyes. “Some plants have the most…fascinating benefits.”

“I think I’ll take some with me home, if you don’t mind. Not just for me but Ma has struggled with sleep ever since…”

Your voice dwindles as an abrupt wave of sadness passes over you.

Tigris grabs your hand and squeezes it across the table.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Coriolanus nods in agreement. “She’s right. Take it one day at a time, princess.”

You ponder what he just said. You are feeling markedly better today, but you loathe thinking about your mom and dad alone.

You swallow a wide lungful.

“Maybe I should go back home tomorrow.”

Coriolanus’ gaze narrows, his smile vanishing momentarily before sliding back into place.

“This early? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more first? It’s clear that you need it.” He studies you for a long time. “You can’t be here for others when you aren’t healed yourself.” You shudder. Sometimes the blond seems to possess the uncanny ability to peer right inside your head. He reaches over the table to place his hand over yours. “Don’t rush it. Like I told you before, our home is your home.”

You don’t find it in yourself to argue, Coriolanus’ gentle yet firm grip on your hand and his smile chasing away your doubts.

“O-Okay.”

Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze at your response.

As Coryo advises, you remain with his family a little while longer. Everyday, he finds gentle words to convince you to extend your stay. It doesn’t take much for you to believe him as you trust him fully, his caring demeanor reminding you of your brother. If Coryo thinks you need a bit more time, he must be right. He only wants what’s best for you.

So a few days turn into a week, which eventually becomes two weeks. Surprisingly, you and the Snows’ daily routines twine with ease. In the morning, you have breakfast together in the dining room. Then you tend to the roses with Grandma’am while she hums songs to herself, an endearing habit you’ve grown quite fond of.

And you usually spend the rest of the day with Tigris, chatting or playing board games, or on your own, reading most of the time. Coriolanus’ library is massive enough to rival the one you have at home. You never run out of things to do in the gigantic penthouse, even sometimes cleaning and cooking to pass the time, efforts Coriolanus never fails to praise you for.

Whenever he returns home to a spotless house or one of your delicious meals, his blue eyes light up with happiness.

And of course, at night, Coryo talks to you in your bed while you dutifully drink your tea, regaling you with stories about his apprenticeship and the University. Most of the time, you never get to learn how they end because you fall asleep.

Thanks to Coriolanus’ herbal mixture, your sleeping schedule is back to relative normalcy. The only downsides are the tea’s peculiar side effects, as near everyday you wake up sore and aching. But the slight inconvenience is minor compared to the benefits you’ve experienced.

All is good and well until one day glimpses of lost memories flash in your brain.

You’re starting to remember the night of Clemensia’s party.

It first happens as you’re gardening with Grandma’am. You’re watering one of the rose bushes when something rushes back to you, something so vivid the watering can in your hand clatters to the ground.

You stumble back, your breaths quickening. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades, Grandma’am helps you find your way to a nearby bench. You collapse atop the bench, your mind whirling.

Her wrinkled features crease in concern.

“Are you alright, sweet girl? Should we call a doctor?”

“I’m fine, grandma’am. Just got dizzy for a bit.”

You smile, hating that you just lied to the older woman. You’re not fine. You’re starting to remember things, things that don’t match up, make no sense.

Terrible things.

I knew you’d feel just perfect around me.

Chills bounce across your spine. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the bench as your breath flows back to your lungs.

You come to a decision. 

You need to talk to Coriolanus. 

Your brows squeeze together in frustration as the balding man checks your pulse and shines a light in your eyes again. It’s the third time tonight. Coriolanus insisted upon it.

“I told you there was no need for a physician, Coryo.”

“Grandma’am said you almost passed out,” the blonde retaliates.

You heave out a deep exhale as you glance at Tigris and Grandma’am standing nervously by the wall. They’re wearing the same concerned expression. 

You wished Grandma’am hadn’t made such a big deal of your little moment in the garden. You feel fine…well, physically at least.

You flash a feeble smile at Coriolanus.

“I didn’t…it was just a dizzy spell. Nothing honestly.”

Brows knitting, he turns to the bespectacled older man at his side.

“Doctor?”

As the man nearly approaches you again, you shoot him a warning glare. You refuse to be poked and prodded once more. Lifting his hands, the man falls back.

He adjusts the stethoscope around his neck.

“I see nothing wrong,” he says. Your shoulders sag in relief. “Still, I’d recommend that your wife takes it easy, sir.”

His words make every hair on your skin stand on end.

“I’m not his wife,” you snap.

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks. 

He turns to the others and instructs, “Everyone, leave us alone.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation on Tigris’ face. She lingers at your doorstep after Grandma’am and the doctor take their leave.

“Are you really sure that you’re okay?” she asks.

You purse your lips. “I’d feel better if everyone stopped fussing over me.”

She nods before leaving as well.

As soon as the door to your bedroom closes, Coriolanus sinks to one knee in front of you. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs brushing circles into your skin.

His cobalt eyes are wide and worried.

“Is something wrong?”

Your stomach knots. “Coriolanus…”

“Yes?”

You draw your hands back, placing them on your lap. His gaze tracks the tiny motion and he squints. 

“That night…” You lick your lips, nerves flaring as your fingers bounce. Just these two words have Coriolanus’ attention on you sharpen in a way that turns your blood to ice. Still you gather your courage and continue, “Did I say no at any point, tried to…stop it? Did…Did you, Coryo?”

The moment your doubts are uttered aloud, you loathe yourself. It’s an awful thing to even suggest. But you can't shake the feeling that there is something Coriolanus isn’t telling you. 

And maybe you always felt that way, like something isn’t quite right, but you craved so badly to have a piece of your brother near that you ignored the glaring signs. 

Shock paints Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“What? I already told you everything that happened, that I was drunk, we both were.”

You peer at Coriolanus. It hurts. So goddamn much. A knife twisting in your chest, again and again. Especially that look of utter betrayal on his face. You don’t want to casually toss those kinds of accusations at your friend. 

But your mind…

It’s bursting at the seams, moments you’re beginning to recall seeping through the cracks. You can’t ignore that. Not the sick echo of Coriolanus’ lustful tone. Not the terrifying glint swaying in his blue eyes. Not the way he panted and grunted above you as you told him to stop. Or at least you think you told him?

You’re not even sure. You’re torn. Coriolanus wouldn’t do that…right? Someone you trust. Someone Sejanus trusted…with you.

Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to break past the confine of your lashes.

Anger flashes in Coriolanus’ eyes. “Really?” he scoffs, bolting to his feet. “You don’t trust me?”

He blurs in your tear-stained vision, distorting to hazy colors you don’t recognize anymore.

“Coryo…” you sob.

He hunkers in front of you again. The anger vanishes, making space for disappointment and sadness.

He cradles your face, his tone softening.

“I would never hurt you,” he mumbles. “How could you even imply…after everything I’ve done for you.”

A shaky breath flutters through your lips. You search Coriolanus’ face, hoping to find something. A truth, an emotion, a lie. Anything, really. Any proof that you’re not crazy, that your mind isn’t just spinning wild stories out of thin air.

Nothing comes up. Coriolanus’ face is a perfect mask of genuine concern and sincerity, right down to his glistening gaze. Doubts even begin to creep inside you beneath his intense stare. 

But the longer you look into his eyes, the more unnerved you grow. 

Something is off. No one can convince you otherwise. Not anymore.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I-I think I need to go home now, Coriolanus.”

You don’t want to be here anymore, in this house you don’t know, with this man…you’re beginning to realize you don’t know either.

You want to be back home, your real home. You crave the safety of your own bed, of Ma’s warm embrace, of the familiar walls of your childhood home.

Instead of acknowledging what you just said, Coriolanus flashes you a bright grin.

“We can discuss it tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you. You frown.

“But Coryo-”

He leans to place a tender kiss on your forehead and you freeze. Every cell in your body longs to flinch away from him but gut-gripping fear keeps you in your spot.

“Tomorrow, princess,” he whispers. He fondles your cheek. You can’t tamp down your shudder. Coriolanus’ brow pinches as he gets to his feet. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”

Coriolanus heads for the door. 

“Sweet dreams,” he coos, smiling. But it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

When the door slams shut, a sound you never heard before echoes from outside. The sound of a key slotting and turning inside a lock. The kind of sound suggesting you’re now trapped in the room.

Your gut sinks.

You find yourself wondering; will tomorrow ever come?

[rachetmath]

Jaune Revenge

Winter: Ruby we found her.

Ruby: Cinder. Everyone it's time.

Yang: Ruby no-

Ruby: I have to stop her. I am the only one.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: It has to be me.

Jaune: Who the hell- who the hell decided that?!

Ruby: She is my problem.

Jaune: I know this- oh hell no she- Ruby!

Ruby: Farewell my friend. I pray that I return.

Jaune: Oh hell-

After a minute what seemed like hours of fighting.

Cinder: Yes finally.

Ruby: *barely catching her breath*

Cinder: After all this time… you finally die Ruby R-

*Boom*

Cinder: *screams in pain*

Ruby: *looks behind her* Jaune. 

Jaune: *throws the gun away and slaps Ruby across her face* The f*** is wrong with you?!

Ruby Ow.

Jaune: You really think I would let you steal my prey? My kill? After all the bull**** that b**** put me through. The f***!

Ruby: Jaune I-

Jaune: I had dreams. Dreams of when I have this b**** in my sights. As her life is now in the palm of my hands. Having her beg for forgiveness has I take what little breath she has from her now feeble hands. Oh God yes… 

Ruby: …. Um

Jaune: And have you learned nothing from your people? Penny? Pyrrha? Alyx?!

Ruby: Whoa Jaune don't be–

Jaune: Stop running off somewhere, prepared to die. We do not do 1 v 1. We jump people. It is the most effective means to win. You are not built for that kind of time. There is no shame in having a squad, especially for enemies.

Ruby: But-

Jaune: Like your uncle, he sucks. He has lost a one-on-one every time since Beacon. Winter, hit him. Tyrian poisoned him. Hazel could have ended his career.  Your uncle needed two other hunters to take Tyrian in. He even required Tyrian to fight Clover. Your uncle isn't about that action. 

Ruby: Well sheesh…

Jaune: Now you excuse me- *pulls out the sword* I will finish this.

Cinder: You weakling. You piece of crap. What are you going to do to me huh? Kill me. Don't make me laugh. You don't have the- *stab in her arm* Ah! *mouths is covered*

Jaune: Oh no Fall maiden, we are just getting started. 

Cinder: *scared*

Nora: Ruby, sorry we’re late but-

Cinder: *screams in agony* My legs! My legs!

RWBY: *shock*

Jaune: Nah-nah we ain't done yet. This is for Pyrrha.*beats Cinder down*

Cinder: *yells in pain* Help me! Help me! Ruby help me! Please!

NERO: *scared*

Jaune This one's for Penny! *Stab Cinder's chest*

Cinder:  *screams*

Jaune: *healing and stabbing Cinder repeatedly* No, you gonna feel this. Yeah. Yeah!!

NPRA: *Summer and Alyx are shocked while Pyrrha and Penny fist pump*

RHAW: *Glad they never met Jaune*

Adam: Oh it was good that I didn't try to fight him on the train.

Hazel: Even though I know I can beat him…. It scares me that he could have a chance of killing me himself. 

Ironwood: Oh so he finally learned. Thank God. 

Clover: Sir please-

Ironwood: We died because of these kids, Clover, I have a right to be like this.

Cinder: No. No. Not my eye. Not my last eye, please! *screams as her eye is pulled out*

Salem: *watching from a far* Oo she will die. Not my problem.

Jaune: *exiles* 

Cinder: *dead* 

Jaune: Finally. And Oscar.

Oscar: Um… yeah-yeah what is it?

Jaune: Are you Ozpin now?

Oscar: N-no. Nope. I'm still here.

Jaune: Your girl. Your problem. I am tired of being the third wheel. The seventh wheel really.

Weiss: I mean -

Jaune: Figure out what you want in life then we'll talk.

Emerald: Oh my God I have maiden powers. I was Cinder’s last thoughts. I-

Jaune: *readies his sword*

Emerald: Jaune-Jaune calm down. We are good. We are good. Best behavior.

Jaune: You damn right b****.

Emerald: Jesus what have you been through on that island?!

Jaune: Isolation is a b****!

Cinder: *in hell and curled up in a ball*

Rogue: How was your freedom as a slave?

Cinder: Shut up. And why are you here?

Hazel: Are you serious? He left you unsupervised, and in a family where you were put through extreme work conditions to survive. 

Adam: You were a slave and the only thing he did was train you. 

Roman: He didn't even get you out. He abandoned you. He is a monster.

[trappolia]

NEVER LOVE AN ANCHOR ── dan heng x gn!reader x blade, former dan feng x gen!reader x yingxing, 2.4k

you dream of blood.

the golden ichor that seeps through the jagged cracks of an old, divine blade. the deep red that drips from your wounds as a cruel reminder of your mortality, an ever existing shadow that haunts you through all the ships you travel through.

you dream of love.

a golden hairpin that catches your eye while walking through the bustling streets of a marketplace. the red paint that smudges on a lover’s lips when you exchange kisses. strokes of black ink upon parchment, reading words more poetic than one can ever have the courage to say aloud.

it is dizzying, in the way all dreams are. you are sitting under the moon and sharing a drink with someone you consider your friend, family, lover, and the next you are driving your spear through his chest. there are no blades of grass on this ship, no grassy fields for you to hide in, and the tendrils that you feel swaying, rustling, in waves past your ankles, are the chains of the sins you bear as someone they call their beloved.

the crew of the astral express are a welcome distraction, kind and warm as they offer you their companionship in their own personal ways. you help march 7th pin up photos in her room, laughing as you reminisce over your past travels through silly selfies and scenic photos. you sit with himeko during breakfast over a cup of coffee (yours brewed by yourself rather than the gorgeous redhead, thank the aeons) and indulge in the peaceful silence, a sense of normality that the woman is more than happy to give you after all that you’ve been through. mr yang tells you stories of other universes, weaving the already existing threads of all the lives you’ve seen around you into something completely different yet the same— and sometimes you can’t help but wonder if he lived a different life before all this.

but no matter what, you always find your way back to dan heng.

though you have your own assigned room, the simple arrangement of a flat pillows and a blanket on the floor of the archives is as much of a home to you as it is to dan heng. you’ve spent many a night in his room, poring over texts and books with him, more often than not passing out on his lap or in his sleeping area.

( “they come as a pair,” march 7th once told the trailblazer when they asked about the two of you. “himeko said that arrived on this ship together. whatever they went through in the past, they made it through because they had each other. but that’s just what i think.” )

it’s true, in a sense. what would you have done without dan heng, travelling through all those ships that always met the same end? you wonder if you would’ve lasted long enough for himeko to find you and bring you to the astral express.

probably not.

dan heng feels responsible for you. he doesn’t say it, but it’s obvious. you once confessed your insecurities to him on a dark night, back when the two of you were still getting used to having a proper roof above your heads without fear of the ship getting attacked or waking up to security banging through the door.

( “what if they think i’m useless because i’m always clinging onto you?” you had asked him in a small, weak voice.

“…they don’t seem like those sort of people.”

“but what if?”

dan heng had looked at you, his expression tired and soft all at once as he sighed.

“then they’ll have a problem with me too.”

“why?”

“because,” he brushed his fingers over your gaunt cheekbones, worn from all that you’d been through. “i’m just like you. if something took you from my side, then i might as very well be useless to them.” )

there’s a known truth between the two of you, one that you never speak of; but you both know that it’s a fact. if you hadn’t been involved with dan heng — with him — you’d still be at home in the xianzhou alliance. you’d be blissfully oblivious to the convict on the loose, the exile who has returned home. you’d be living your life— a normal life.

but you aren't.

instead, you dream of him.

it should be impossible. bracers are not meant to be shared between a trio, and whatever gift you had been planning to share between the three of you was lost upon the exile. and yet, even without the ancient magic of the vidyadhara, he somehow manages to make his way into your dreams, haunting you like a ghost.

some nights, you dream of those arms that had always held you with such certainty, an impenetrable shield even when bloodied and battered. other nights, you dream of those hands driving a blade through dan heng’s heart, squeezing your throat until you take your last breath through a broken windpipe.

and every night, when you wake up from those dreams in dan heng’s arms, you feel that pain welling in your chest, settling for days as it finds comfort in its new home, made up of your aching lungs and your shattered heart. the days and nights blur together like this— haunted by a man still living and breathing, though not quite human, in the nighttime, and traversing through the worlds like a ghost searching for meaning in the daytime.

you don’t remember how it ended up like this. or do you? it all feels like a dream, all the details and images blurring together to be forgotten by morning. but it isn’t morning, and you can’t wake up from this reality. your head throbs. a concussion? who cares.

you can’t afford to let your guard down on this ship you once called home. you’re here for a reason, and though that reason is your top priority, you can’t afford to be caught either. the cloud knight that found you and dan heng — sushang — doesn’t seem to recognise either of you, and neither does the strange tradesman luocha, but you still can’t take any chances. panic blossoms in your gut, unsettling as you grip your weapon in your weak hands.

ah. that’s right. you’re fighting. reason grounds you with the fuzzy memory of your enemy standing before you— an ambush, because whatever forces are at work here clearly play just as dirty as the antimatter legion and that damned aeon they serve.

a fight you can’t lose, no matter how badly your head is throbbing right now, because you still have to find the others, have to save them from— from—

“ren,” your grip on your weapon loosens as the dust clears, revealing the man standing before you.

the enemy, your brain screams, though it can’t even make you move away. the word that slips through your lips is familiar, and yet not. your head hurts thinking of calling him by his true name, the name you called him before he turned into this.

blade, is what kafka called him.

ren, is what it means in your mother tongue, the language spoken in moonlit nights as the three of you sat under the stars, the silence broken only by a whisper of their names.

the name comes out as a quiet, pathetic croak, staring wide eyed at his figure. he’s frozen just as you are, his broken blade aimed straight at you with an arm that wavers just the slightest.

it’s like a domino effect; your walls crashing down the moment you see his mask slip for the smallest moment.

“yingxing!” your voice breaks as you call out to him again, almost desperately (it does not occur to you that you've let your memory slip, called out for a man long dead). your feet are moving from under you before you even realise it.

blade lunges forward, his sword drawn.

a desperate cry of your name wretches itself out of dan heng’s throat in a way that makes your heart ache, but it’s too late now. his warning comes only seconds after you’ve begun to run straight to danger, death, a threat to your life seemingly unseen to you as you surge forward like a blind lover, but you can see him.

the sharp angles of his face, the familiar bracer on his calloused hand, the searing heat of his vermilion eyes. he’s so close— close enough to kiss, close enough to kill, close enough to be reality rather than an illusion forged by a dream.

his blade is not what meets you. instead, it’s his hand. dan heng’s panicked screams is barely audible over your hammering heartbeat, your pulse quickening as blade’s calloused fingers wrap around your throat. he’s stronger than you — you would know even if he hasn’t been haunting your dreams all those years — and so he can easily snap you in half the second you’re in his clutches.

but then you’re pressed against him, back to his front. blade pulls you as close to him as humanly possible until you’re both flush, sharing the same, saccharine oxygen after years of breathing stale air through stone lungs. despite the sharp end of a sword held over your throat, you allow yourself to close your eyes, reveling in this single moment as if you’ve lived an eternity where the three of you had never once hurt each other. though he had an eternity without a single regard to how you’d hurt each other. in these stolen moments, you let yourself be stupid, oblivious, selfish, just to breathe properly for the first time in what feels like a millennium.

“let them go,” dan heng hisses, breaking you out of your reverie.

“no,” blade’s eyes narrow. there is no mocking in his expression, no sardonic smirk or cruel taunts. his walls are still up, none of that broken emotion that you’d only seen for a split moment when your eyes first met, but he lets himself drop the bravado. between the three of you, there is no such thing.

you whisper a soft cry of his name, making dan heng’s grip tighten on cloudpiercer as he moves to snatch you out of blade’s grip, but your former lover only growls.

“come any closer, and i’ll cut them.”

his voice is scratchy, worn like the calloused hands that are wrapped around your nape, squeezing almost painfully. a distant memory flashes in your mind, of these same calloused palms washing your back after a long day, cleaning the blood and grime.

these same hands could be stained with your blood, if he so wishes.

“you won’t,” dan heng hisses, and you hear something in him break like glass shattering on the floor. “you can’t.”

he sounds so sure of it, that this man will not slice that blade over your throat and take your life just as he had taken dan heng’s in so many eternities.

you’re reminded of the fact that no matter how many times the hourglass has turned over for dan heng, no matter how muddled his memories become, he once loved this man just as you did— once relished in his presence and touch as it lulled him back to sanity, masking the weight of all the sins the three of you had committed over the lifetimes your strings of fate had been entangled.

blade moves as if to cut your throat, to finally take the first life, the first step in the nth round of this cycle of violence, but his sword only manages to press down just the slightest against the skin of your neck before he stops himself. his hand — the one adorned by that damned bracer — shakes as he glares at dan heng with a look that can kill.

“fuck,” blade mutters under his breath. the word is not meant for you, but you hear anyway. blade pulls back from you roughly, and a barely audible whimper tears out of your throat when he suddenly pushes you forward and into dan heng’s arms.

dan heng’s eyes widen, clearly just as surprised as you when blade relinquishes his hold on you. he catches you with unsteady arms, trying to keep cloudpiercer levelled at blade as if the man will suddenly lunge forward and take him from you again.

blade stares at the two of you for a moment, watching as dan heng clutches you to his chest like you’ll disappear if he let go, as you hold a palm to your neck where the thinnest line of red bleeds through. his eyes narrow, and the only other indication of emotion in his face is the slightest downturn of his lips.

“i’ll be back,” blade says, and then there’s that cruel smile on his face again, a taunting glint in his eye as he looks at dan heng. “i’ve stolen your little eternity countless times before. what’s one more to the tally?”

dan heng growls, his grip tightening on cloudpiercer, “you damned—!”

but then blade’s already making his exit, leaping off the platform in a manner that gives you deja vu.

( a memory flashes in your mind, the image of him jumping off your balcony as jing yuan knocked on your bedroom door to make sure you were still asleep while dan feng dove under your bed for cover, a mundane moment of peace and carefreeness almost forgotten from where you had pushed it deep into crevices of your mind. )

i’ve stolen your little eternity countless times before. what’s one more to the tally?

after a breathless moment that seems to drag out for an eternity, dan heng’s arms finally uncurl from your frame, his eyes tracing your figure to make sure you’re unharmed. his eyes drag over the thin cut across your neck in an adagio, his breath hitching as he sees you bleeding the same colour of blade’s eyes.

“he didn’t kill me,” you breathe out. you don’t know why it’s only settling now. the relief is clear in your tone, but it’s obvious from the violent tremor of your hands that it’s only to mask your own uncertainty. "he didn't kill me."

dan heng is quiet. you’re too scared to look at him, at the expression on his face. you just stare at your shaking hands, and watch as he rests his palm over your own to soothe the tremors.

“he always had a soft spot for you,” dan heng whispers, something breaking in the tenor of his voice.

© trappolia 2024

[akutasoda]

Hello hello!!! Congrats in reaching 1k followers!!!! I've always enjoyed your writing so I'm not surprised you'd get 1k!

For the event could I request Jing Yuan and Dan Heng catching an anxious!reader singing for the first time? Maybe they catch reader softly serenading both of them while assuming the two were asleep. (Jing Yuan x reader x Dan Heng)

thank you :)

🍵 nonnie

silent melodies

synopsis - you start seranding them at a long awaited reunion, unaware they hear you

includes - dan heng + jing yuan

warnings - gn!reader, reader is a long life species?, angst, bittersweet angst, comfort/fluff, wc - 825

a/n: thank you!! <3

dan heng would only have one reason to step foot back on the luofu, to brave what awaited him and that would be to see you again - jing yuan would be there too but mainly you. so when the express took to the luofu he really did want to join them but he knew a much harsher fate awaited him if he ever saw him again, but all he could think about in his stay on the express was you. even if he wasn't the one you fell in love with.

it was a compromise really. during the life of imbibitor lunae, he had become absolutely head over heels for you, the long life species that he wanted by his side until it was his time to be reborn. however he had a slight competition with his fellow quintet member who was also vying for your attention. it seemed more than reasonable for him and jing yuan to come to some sort of agreement, even just letting you choose your lover, but they were both too smitten to even fathom the idea of willingly giving you up.

ultimately, they planned to do the reasonable option and leave the decision to you and you alone but you were a bit indecisive and asled for some time to mull it over. eventually you informed them that you simply couldn't pick and that's when jing yuan announced that he wouldn't mind sharing you with imbibitor lunae if you didn't mind yourself - after all it was your decision at the end of the day. you did feel quite 'put on the spot' and you're nerves were starting to kick in but you agreed.

it seemed that was the right decision. it had merely been a week of your relationship with the two of them before it all delved into chaos and heartbreak. imbibitor lunae made a stupid decision in the grief of his friend and willingly would accept the consequences, he just wanted to see you one last time. you never visited him in the shackling prison, he understood and came to terms with it - even when he was forcefully reborn he didn't expect you to visit him and his only solace came from jing yuan who would inform him of how you were doing.

you had stayed with jing yuan ever since and now the express was docked at the luofu, dan heng couldn't help bit indulge himself and see the two of you. he wasn't imbibitor lunae. he wasn't your lover nor a friend but he hoped that you'd allow him a moment of peace, a moment to see how you were fairing after all these years. it was no surprise that he found you in a more isolated spot on the luofu - especially since he could faintly remember a place like this in his dreams. and there he could find you with jing yuan.

it was a bittersweet reunion, if it could even be called that. jing yuan showed some friendly intentions but he knew who it wasn't, and would soon return to his place were his head rested on your shoulder so he could rest once again. you didn't care that it wasn't imbibitor lunae, you knew this would be the closest chance you had to seeing him and this opportunity wouldn't escape. dan heng was rather pleased to know you hadn't changed much and he could practically feel a weight lifting from his chest just by being in your presence, he could also feel the lack of sleep overcome him.

soon enough you had your lover and your other lover's reincarnation rested comfortably by your side. for a moment you could convince yourself that nothing had happened, nobody had gotten exiled and no relationships were destroyed. in this fleeting moment you could cast aside your hesitations to start humming a small tune, you always had the habit of doing so back in the day when you were absolutely certain they were both asleep - you weren't exactly confident with your skills. you could easily lose yourself in the moment and finally be able to really imagine that this was how it used to be.

that would be up until jing yuan woke from his brief slumber to you serenading the both of them. immediately, you stopped and tried hiding your face in embarrassment at being caught serenading them only for jing yuan to stop you. the small commotion managed to drag dan heng out of the first peaceful sleep he had in ages and he was immediately informed by jing yuan that you had been serenading them - your hands flew up to your face in pure embarrassment as jing yuan chucked softly beside you. dan heng melted slightly at the pure idea that you still harboured something to him even if it wasn't him. maybe just maybe he could drop the pretences and enjoy his time with you and jing yuan.

akutasoda's 1k event

[saneijeijei]

The Lost Prince [Au CaraChoco]

(thanks to @shamsifox for the concept art of the character)

Chocolate Caramel Trifle Cookies (his short name is "Choco-Cara Trifle") - son of Choco and Cara.

The boy grew up in the province of the kingdom, who did not know his parents.

His father was a glorious hero - the Crown Prince, whom everyone loved and respected. His mother was a subordinate who served the prince faithfully, she had a bright future, she was supposed to become the next watcher.

An affair began between Caramel and Choco. A secret affair that they carefully hid from everyone. Choco repeatedly offered to announce their relationship, but Caramel refused, fearing that it would affect her reputation and people would think that she had undeservedly received her position. And she asked to wait.

When Caramel got the position of watcher, she noticed a strange behavior from Choco. After he found the sword, he sometimes behaved strangely and sometimes disappeared so much that he could not be found. But Caramel tried not to think about the bad things, blaming everything on the fact that he was clearly nervous about the decision to announce the engagement and the relationship.

She knew that there were disagreements between them, so she tried not to focus on the behavior of her lover.

And then one day, Choco asks Caramel to go to his former nanny, who lives in the province. She had replaced his mother and he wanted her to be one of the first to know about such important news. Caramel agreed, although the journey was long, she understood that it was important for him to share this news with her.

But when she returned and wanted to share her impressions of the trip, she was horrified to see what was happening in the citadel. The news that the Crown Prince had attacked the king finally knocked her down.

Upon hearing that Choco had been exiled and declared a criminal, Caramel took it very hard and distanced herself from many servants in the citadel.

Cacao never found out about their relationship. Therefore, after seeing how Caramel is devastated by the betrayal of her commander and cannot gather her thoughts and is constantly in prostration, he sends her on a long-term vacation, which she decides to take advantage of, decided to visit again for Choco's former nanny.

After a while, the Choco-Cara Trifle Cookie is born. He remains in the care of Choco's former nanny, while Caramel goes back to the citadel.

The boy did not know his parents and grew up under the care of his aunt, as he called the former nanny Choco.

Trifle grew up in prosperity. He always had food, clothes and toys. His aunt took care of him and he didn't need anything. He dreamed of becoming a lookout like Caramel Arrow - she was his idol.

And one day, when he heard that new classes were being recruited to the citadel, where after training he could stay and serve in the citadel, he begged his aunt to let him go to the capital with other children to take exams and enroll. But aunt was categorically against it.

And one day, when he heard that new classes were being recruited to the citadel, where after training he could stay and serve in the citadel, he begged his aunt to let him go to the capital with other children to take exams and enroll. But aunt was categorically against it.

The main story is based on unpleasant situations that Trifle and his friend Con Hielo, a young man from the coffee clan family, who went bankrupt a long time ago, get into.

(thank u @shamsifox 🙏)

[esther-dot]

The poor thing in the road, it's eyes still glistening 17k by @eruherdiriel

Hooves are not what wake Jon in the middle of the night, pulse racing and hands clammy with sweat. It’s fire. Orange and angry, eating away at houses and shops and shacks in his dream. Even now that he is awake, Jon can still taste burnt flesh on the back of his tongue. The wounds from his brother’s mutiny and Drogon’s gouge, frozen only hours ago, burn white. War leaves everyone broken, Jon perhaps most of all. Sansa finds even peacetime requires letting go.

the sky is big enough 15k @hopetorun

The war is over, except all the ways it isn't, and Sansa isn't alone, except for all the ways she is.

O Voyagers 28k WIP

Jon’s eyes are fixed on the floor at her feet. To a stranger it might look like respect, the proper deference shown to a queen, but Sansa knows better. If he wished to look at her, he would. He has not forgiven me, she thinks, her heart a stone in her chest. He likely never will.

daughters and queens bleed alone 4k

They crown Sansa with a rope of twisted steel, two wolves arching across her brow in a delicate embrace. No stags upon this crown—no branching antlers, no gleaming manes, no blooming hearts of southern roses. No fire, no blood, no graceful sweep of scales and wings, or the silver bite of dragon’s teeth. The Queen in the North stands before them, and Winter has come.

old wounds 2k by @jonsaslove

Jon left King's Landing and never returned. Sansa became Queen in the North and weathered the storm. When they see each other again, there is not much left to say.

stories to tell our children 1k by @jonsaslove

“You said that Old Nan used to tell you stories so scary you couldn’t sleep for a fortnight! That was a baby story!” Duncan nods, agreeing with his sister. Her father interrupts. “Well, Old Nan was a very good story teller. She could tell you a story about fairies and princesses and make it seem terrifying with just her voice and a menacing stare.” Or; Jon and Sansa tell their children bedtime stories.

Where the Shadow Ends 245k (I'm sure y'all have read this one, but it is THE post canon fic, so it must be mentioned!)

For years Sansa has ruled the North, wisely, justly, capably--and utterly alone. Everyone tells her she needs an heir; all she wants is a family. But after everything she’s suffered, there’s only one man she trusts won’t use her for her claim. Only one she trusts with her body. Unfortunately, she trusts him in no other way--especially not with her heart. For years Jon’s hidden in the far north, choosing solitude over the people he loves, choosing self-exile as punishment rather than atoning. But then Tormund tires of his moping and drags Jon back to Winterfell where guilt and consequences and a tempting offer await him. accompanying gifset by @thewindsofwolves

We Set Fire in the Snow 7k by @framboise-fics

Three days was long enough for moments of tenderness, for soft touches and gentle murmurs alongside the violence of their passions, but it was not long enough to burn this fire between them down to ashes, to put out the flames, he thinks ruefully, bitterly, achingly, as he rides out and looks back at her standing on the ramparts as he remembered her, her hair a curtain of fire, her body rigid like she has been sculpted from ice. He will take that fire back North, to warm him through frigid nights, he thinks; to burn inside of him so that he shall never find any peace; and let her feel the same, he thinks, let him not be alone in his agony. If he loved her he should surely wish her peace, so does he love her? Or is this how a wicked man loves, painfully, cruelly, selfishly? Is he her punishment just as she is his?

An Affair in Stages 13k by @justadram (not tagged post canon but works as one which is interesting as the first chapter was posted way back in 2013!)

It begins with a proposition, but where it will end neither of them knows.

Please Speak Well of Me 17k

A queen isn’t supposed to cry. So she’s learned to turn her tears to frost before they ever reach her cheeks. “Sansa,” Jon says to her, and the ice within shifts, weakens. Brackish water begins to leak through the cracks. She can barely remember how to speak, and it doesn’t come as much of a comfort that he seems to be fumbling as well. Over the foolish moons, Sansa had imagined that, if the time came that Jon ever returned, the mere sight of him would unwind the tangles of conflict inside of her. There would be something in his eyes, something she had forgotten about his face, something that would remind her what was real and what was not between the two of them.

breathe me in, taste my words 2k

Much to her surprise, marriage has only made Sansa less of a lady, not more. She doesn’t mind terribly, but maybe that’s because Jon doesn’t either.

Stone by Stone 8k

Finally, her words came in a rush. “But I seem to have built my own wall. Stone by stone, little by little, after each of them disappointed me, hurt me. And now that they are dead, I sometimes fear I may die behind my wall that no one can can walk thru.”

fire in exile 2k by @princemills

The thoughts of the others he’d lost were too unpleasant, and the thoughts of those who survived made him want to keel over like a babe, knowing he’d left them behind. It wasn’t really a choice, but it didn’t stop him from pondering his choices. From King in the North to bending the knee to Daenerys to stabbing her with a dagger beneath white ash borne from burning flesh, he’s never made the correct choice, and now he’ll burn in hell for it. Or, as Westeros deems hell: he’ll freeze his balls off at the wall, or Tormund will cut them off. Whichever comes first. - a quick study of jon and the choices he makes in exile.

watch me run right back to you 16k

Three times Jon and Sansa almost kiss…and three times they actually do.

come out of hiding (i'm right here beside you) 36k @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

AU after 8.05. After the death of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow chooses to live beyond the Wall, while Sansa Stark, the newly-crowned Queen in the North, marries a Dornish prince. Three years later, when Jon finally gathers the courage to return to Winterfell, he finds that while many things have changed, one hasn't: he's still in love with Sansa. (Featuring widow!Sansa, contrite!Jon, and a cute baby.)

Homecoming 31k @theoriginalsuki

Halfway to him, she broke composure; she flew at him, an arrow from a bow, and he opened to receive her, lifting her, clutching her to the soft, neglected animal of his body. Sansa has one request of Jon, and then he can leave her forever: help her to find a husband.

Gifsets: Jonsa and Their Three Children by @kingbuckley , Together We Build Our Empire by @aureliacamargo, Future Jonsa with Children by @amandapeetshusband, In Which They Live a Long and Happy Life Together by @baelerion, To See Him Once Again by @theirwinterfell, Maybe We'll Meet Again by @thatmansplayinggalaga

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS

[psychomusic]

presenting to you: vegoia laran!

vegoia is the daughter of suri and tar'x laran, so, she's half-mirialan and half-zabrak. she lived on the mountains of mirial with her family until she began her jedi training at around 10 years, then she became a jedi seer.

more of her childhood under the cut! the rest of her story will be on other posts, I'll link them at the end when I'll post them

thank you @furious-blueberry0 for letting me use your padawan braid idea and jedi seer headcanon!! i really really love these ideas <3

since her birth, she seemed special at the eyes of her people, due to an old local myth: the founding witch.

(the myth is: a powerful witch, haunted by complex visions of the future, was exiled to the desert planet of mirial. after years spent traveling she had one clear vision on top of a mount, in which she saw the potential beauty of the valley, full of different lifeforms flourishing. with her magical powers, she turned that possible future into a reality, and everything changed: the 4 peoples who lived there started turning into trees and animals, what once was sterile rock became fertile ground, and craters were filled with water. but despite her good work, the incomprehensible visions kept returning. tired of the universe's infinite lessons, she decided to crystalize all of her visions and knowledge into the sacred crystal, and prophetized, before dying, that one day someone attuned to it would come to claim the crystal and understand the lessons she couldn't understand)

because of her albinism (that made her white like the crystal) and of her horns (the crystal has an horned shape), people thought she was the prophetized one. when she began to talk - rather late, and asked people to resolve the riddles that "a bearded man told her in her dreams" - what was just a rumor solidified into a belief.

her mother and grandfather, both in the high priesthood, taught her everything they could. they taught her to study, to reflect, and they explained to her their religion and folklore. also, her mother often tried to help her in her quest of finding answers. from her, vegoia learned how to study, and the right mindset to be able, later, to explore the jedi's philosophy and beliefs.

but it was her father that, despite his absence, taught her how to compromise with her visions, how to be patient, how to handle the state of ignorance, and how to enjoy it anyway. he was somehow better at understanding her, and making her understand things, than everyone else in the town. maybe, it was because he not only had met different force users, but also had experience with a force sensitive kid (his little brother, whom vegoia shared a lot of similar traits). despite her mother being a healer & priestess, and believing in the value in helping people, it was her father who really grounded that belief in her. in particular, he did it in a moment that. also shaped her experience of the force. a simple moment, though: she had asked him to kill a scary bug that was laying flat on its back, but he refused and instead asked her to help it. he believed that helping is what gives life sense - even more than the bonds we make, because it can't be undone. when vegoia picked up the bug and helped it get back on its feet, she could feel the bug's relief, and maybe even gratitude, through the force. this was the imprint of her experience of the force: connection (even more than her visions, that just "happened" to her, and couldn't actively call upon her).

BUT I DIGRESSED way too much on her childhood. the most important event in her childhood was the day she was taken by the jedi, even if she didn't know what truly happened that day.

the SIS had been tracking her father's movements for a while and had found out about his trips to mirial. worried that the empire was planning something, they sent a squad of operatives to investigate. since his father had often worked for the dark council, the SIS requested a jedi to come with them. when they arrived, suri went to talk to them. they threatened her into talking and she told them of their secret family. the SIS decided to take them prisoners, capture him when he got back, and make him talk using his family as leverage. the jedi disagreed with such methods but the operation was under the SIS's jurisdiction. suri then tried to convince them to leave the town and her daughter, and to instead blackmail him with her. the SIS refused, fearing that the sith might kill him before he could even know about the blackmailing. the jedi, feeling vegoia's strong presence in the force decided to make a deal: vegoia would've come with him to the temple to become a jedi. she'd still have a life, while suri would stay under their custody for the SIS trap. this would also show the agent the difference between the republic and the empire, and hopefully that would help him talk. she accepted at one condition: that they took her away before her father came back, so that she wouldn't have to live through it. vegoia didn't know of her father's real job, like everyone else in the town (everyone thought he had traded his services to the hutts to have the sacred horned crystal back).

they agreed, but, while suri was busy packing thing for vegoia, the SIS decided to put another condition. vegoia musn't be told anything about that day until her father had been taken into republic's custody, as a precaution. the jedi agreed, thinking it wouldn't be long before her father would come home and be arrested. little did he know this momentary omission would grow into a years-old lie.

[jymwahuwu]

Cloud Knight!darling makes a bet with their fellow cloud knight friends that if someone in their group gets a high profile partner, they have to get married and have kids first😆😂

TADA! Darling gets 😱 General Jing Yuan?! And shockingly the exiled Blade! What luck to get TWO matches?! Unaware of the General's gaze on you (from behind you), you shrug it off and turn around to tell your friends that it's a pipe dream-

Uh oh- The general is standing behind you🧍‍♂️and wraps his arm around your waist to tell you that it's ok, you'll be given time to accept the match... But he didn't tell you that you're relieved of your job to serve him and be his little precious housewife nor the fact that he's requested for Blade to come back so you three could have a tiny wedding... With a small bump on your tummy of course🥰

-💦anon (that's constantly horn knee for blade and Jing yuan, I mean who wouldn't 😔)

Your brain has so many interesting ideas!! I LOVE THIS!! Would be freaking out and be so happy 🤣😳😳❤️‍🔥Think this matching service could be more dystopian, ostensibly consensual, but actually forced marriage...

CW: yandere, forced marriage, kind of dystopian

"Oh come on. What's so special about that matching service? I'm sure they'll match me with someone who doesn't even know how to fight."

"Huh? If not?"

"Hmph, getting married and having a baby? okay. Anyway, I'm of the marriageable age in Xianzhou."

Luofu recently arranged for people to go to a matching service to increase the proportion of the married population (loneliness in the universe is already one of the afflictions of long-lived species)… even though you are part of the army is no exception. You fold your arms, discussing the service with your cloud knight companions, curling your lips indifferently. You guys bet that if one of you is lucky enough to find a high profile partner, get married and have a baby first.

A few days later, you receive an electronic report on your phone and walk over to your companion. You were joking and clicked on the results together.

Matching Result: Jing Yuan, Blade (Warning: This person is wanted by Xianzhou. For your safety, the result has been backed up to Seat of Divine Foresight) Suitability for Marriage: 90% Suitability for Reproduction: 95% The results are based on rigorous scientific analysis, as detailed below: … *The system has automatically sent your information to your matching partner(s). We wish you happiness and look forward to seeing you get married soon!*

You opened your mouth slightly, and a big "?" appeared on the top of your head. You swipe the screen with your fingers, and checked it several times before you realized that it was not the person with the same name as General Jing Yuan, but the real General Jing Yuan… And that Blade you saw on the wanted poster? This is your matching result? And why can this service invade your privacy and automatically send your information to them? Too much confusion fills your mind.

Okay, this must be a pipe dream. You shrug and turn your head away, planning to tell your friend that you're going to ignore this.

Something is gently placed on your waist, it is a hand. Your back shivered from the close contact, and you let out a little scream, and turned around to find that it was…General Jing Yuan!?!? Jing Yuan was amused by your reaction, squinting his eyes, and Say hello to you. Cloud Knight's friends were petrified.

"It's okay," the general said softly. "I will give you time to accept the matching result. By the way, I have already booked the venue and date, for the wedding, you know. And Blade, he also expressed his willingness to return to Xianzhou."

"What-what?" Your mind is in turmoil.

Under the gaze of everyone, Jing Yuan kissed your forehead and left in a good mood. "I'll be visiting your house tonight, darling."

As for Blade, he is returning to Xianzhou from somewhere in space, and is checking your profile. Kafka is encouraging him and telling him what to pay attention to when meeting his future partner. Silver Wolf is telling him that he can refer to visual novels 💀

[syndrossi]

When Rhaegal returned alone to Dragonstone, Daenerys’ had felt her heart drop in an immediate wave of grief that caught her off guard. Jon hadn’t always felt like family, not in the way she had always dreamed, but he was the only other person in the world that understood - being the last, being a dragon rider, the weight of responsibility and destiny that had brought them this far. So she had done the only thing there was to do, bid Rhaegal to return to where he had last seen Jon and followed. She had not expected to feel the living, burning frisson of warlock magic permeating the ruins. Had not had more than a moment to consider what to do about the gap, the cracked door in the magic that she could feel closing before her. But if she looked back, she was lost and so she reached for Drogon and pushed forward. Whatever mischief, whatever malicious intent she had imagined, she had not expected to find herself in the Vale, and a terrified Lady Lynda apologizing for the treason of hiding Targaryen twins from King Viserys and his brother…

Oh my goodness, I love this premise. What a fun dynamic: you have 19-year-old Dany, riding a dragon, appearing out of NOWHERE. So there's the fun of House Targaryen going "wtf wtf wtf is this one of Saera's children? where did that dragon come from??? elissa farman gdi"

And then she comes across mini-Jon, and a mini-RHAEGAR? I hope Daemon's ready to fight her, because she's going to be grabby-handsing them. This Jon could be family in the way she's always wanted. And here is the Rhaegar she never got to meet!

But also the heartache of having her "family" (House Targaryen) here, but strangers, unwilling to acknowledge her as anything other than an interloper, a bastard of an exiled member of their house. Another home where she doesn't quite belong, so she's damned if she'll let go of Jon and Rhaegar, when they're the only home/family she knows here.

[secretmellowblog]

Les Mis French History Timeline: all the context you need to know to understand Les Mis

Here is a simple timeline of French history as it relates to events in Les Miserables, and to the context of Les Mis's publication! A post like this would’ve really helped me four years ago, when I knew very little about 1830s France or the goals of Les Amis, so I’m making it now that I have the information to share! ^_^

This post will be split into 4 sections: a quick overview of important terms, the history before the novel that’s important to the character's backstories, the history during the novel, and then the history relevant to the 1848-onward circumstances of Hugo’s life and the novel’s publication. 

Part 1: Overview 

The novel takes place in the aftermath of the Battle of Waterloo, during a period called the Restoration. 

The ancient monarchy was overthrown during the French Revolution. After a series of political struggles the revolutionary government was eventually replaced by an empire under Napoleon. Then Napoleon was defeated and sent into exile— but then he briefly came back and seized power for one hundred days—! and then he was defeated yet again for good at the battle of Waterloo in 1815.

After all that political turmoil, kings have been "restored" to the throne of France. The novel begins right as this Restoration begins.

The major political parties important to generally understanding Les Mis (Wildly Oversimplified) are Republicans, Liberals, Bonapartists, and Royalists. It’s worth noting that all these ‘party terms’ changed in meaning/goals over time depending on which type of government was in power. In general though, and just for the sake of reading Les Mis:

 Republicans want a Republic, where people elect their leaders democratically— they’re the very left wing progressive ones, and are heavily outcast/censored/policed. Les Amis are Republicans.

Liberals: we don’t have time to go into it, but I don’t think there are any characters in Les Mis defined by their liberalism.

Bonapartists are followers of Napoleon Bonaparte I, who led the Empire. Many viewed the Emperor as more favorable or progressive to them than a king would be. Georges Pontmercy is a Bonapartist, as is Pere Fauchelevent. 

Royalists believe in the divine right of Kings; they’re conservative. Someone who is extremely royalist to the point of wanting basically no limits on the king’s power at all are called “Ultraroyalists” or “ultra.” Marius’s conservative grandfather Gillenromand is an ultra royalist.  Hugo is also very concerned with criticizing the "Great Man of History," the view that history is pushed forward by the actions of a handful of special great men like kings and emperors. Les Mis aims to focus on the common masses of people who push history forward instead.

Part 2: Timeline of History involved in characters’ Backstories

1789– the March on the bastille/ the beginning of the original French Revolution. A young Myriel, who is then a shallow married aristocrat, flees the country. His family is badly hurt by the Revolution. His wife dies in exile.

1793– Louis XVI is found guilty of committing treason and sentenced to death. The Conventionist G—, the old revolutionary who Myriel talks to, votes against the death of the king. 

1795:  the Directory rules France. Throughout much of the revolution, including this period, the country is undergoing “dechristianization” policies. Fantine is born at this time. Because the church is not in power as a result of dechristianization, Fantine is unbaptized and has no record of a legal given name, instead going by the nickname Fantine (“enfantine,” childlike.)

1795: The Revolutionary government becomes more conservative. Jean Valjean is arrested. 

1804: Napoleon officially crowns himself Emperor of France. the Revolution’s dream of a Republic is dead for a bit.  At this time, Myriel returns from his exile and settles down in the provinces of France to work as a humble priest. Then he visits Paris and makes a snarky comment to Napoleon, and Napoleon finds him so witty that he appoints him Bishop.

Part 3: the novel actually begins 

1815: Napoleon is defeated at the Battle of Waterloo by the allied nations of Britain and Prussia. Read Hugo’s take on that in the Waterloo Digression! He gets a lot of facts wrong, but that’s Hugo for you.

Marius’s father, Baron Pontmercy, nearly dies on the battlefield. Thenardier steals his belongings. 

After Napoleon is defeated, a king is restored to the throne— Louis XVIII, of the House of Bourbon, the ancient royal house that ruled France before the Revolution. In order to ensure that Louis XVIII stays on the throne, the nations of Britian, Prussia, and Russia, send soldiers occupy France. So France is, during the early events of the novel, being occupied by foreign soldiers. This is part of why there are so many references to soldiers on the streets and garrisons and barracks throughout the early portions of the novel. The occupation officially ended in 1818.

1815 (a few months after Waterloo): Jean Valjean is released from prison and walks down the road to Digne, the very same road Napoleon charged down during his last attempt to seize power. Many of the inns he passes by are run by people advertising their connections to Napoleon. Symbolically Valjean is the poor man returning from exile into France, just as Napoleon was the Great Man briefly returning from exile during the 100 days, or King Louis XVIII is the Great King returning from exile to a restored throne.

  1817: The Year 1817, which Hugo has a whole chapter-digression about. Louis XVIII  of the House of Bourbon is on the throne. Fantine, “the nameless child of the Directory,”  is abandoned by Tholomyes. 

1821: Napoleon dies in exile. 

1825:  King Louis XVIII dies. Charles X takes the throne. While Louis XVIII was willing to compromise, Charles X is a far more conservative ultra-royalist. He attempts to bring back something like the Pre-Revolution style of monarchy. 

Underground resistance groups, including Republican groups like Les Amis, plot against him.  

1827-1828: Georges Pontmercy, bonapartist veteran of Waterloo, dies. Marius, who has been growing up with his abusive Ultra-royalist grandfather and mindlessly repeating his ultra-royalist politics, learns how much his father loved him. He becomes a democratic Bonapartist. 

Marius is a little bit late to everything though. He shouts “long live the Emperor!” Even though Napoleon died in 1821 and insults his grandfather by telling him “down with that hog Louis XVIII” even though Louis XVIII has been dead since 1825. He’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit. 

Marius leaves his grandfather to live on his own. 

1830: “The July Revolution,” also known as the “Three Glorious Days” or  “the Second French Revolution.” Rebels built barricades and successfully forced Charles X out of power.

Unfortunately, TL;DR moderate politicians prevented the creation of a Republic and instead installed another more politically progressive king — Louis-Philippe, of the house of Orleans. 

Louis-Philippe was a relative of the royal family, had lived  in poverty for a time, and described himself as “the citizen-king.” Hugo’s take on him is that he was a good man, but being a king is inherently evil; monarchy is a bad system even if a “good” dictator is on the throne.

The shadow of 1830 is important to Les Mis, and there’s even a whole digression about it in “A Few Pages of History,” a digression most people adapting the novel have clearly skipped. Les Amis would’ve probably been involved in it....though interestingly, only Gavroche and maybe Enjolras are explicitly confirmed to have been there, Gavroche telling Enjolras he participated “when we had that dispute with Charles X.”

Sadly we're following Marius (not Les Amis) in 1830. Hugo mentions that Marius is always too busy thinking to actually participate in political movements. He notes that Marius was pleased by 1830 because he thinks it is a sign of progress, but that he was too dreamy to be involved in it. 

1831: in “A Few Pages of History” Hugo describes the various ways Republican groups were plotting what what would later become the June Rebellion– the way resistance groups had underground meetings, spread propaganda with pamphlets, smuggled in gunpowder, etc. 

Spring of 1832: there is a massive pandemic of cholera in Paris that exacerbates existing tensions. Marius is described as too distracted by love to notice all the people dying of cholera. 

June 1st, 1832: General Lamarque, a member of parliament often critical of the monarchy, dies of cholera. 

June 5th and 6th, 1832: the June Rebellion of 1832:

Republicans, students, and workers attempt to overthrow the monarchy, and finally get a democratic Republic For Real This Time. The rebellion is violently crushed by the National Guard.

Enjolras was partially inspired by Charles Jeanne, who led the barricades at Saint-Merry. 

Part 4: the context of Les Mis’s publication 

February 1848: a successful revolution finally overthrows King Louis Philippe. A younger Victor Hugo, who was appointed a peer of France by Louis-Philippe, is then elected as a representative of Paris in the provisional revolutionary government.

June 1848: This is a lot, and it’s a thing even Hugo’s biographers often gloss over, because it’s a horrific moral failure/complexity of Hugo’s that is completely at odds with the sort of politics he later became known for. The short summary is that in June 1848 there was a working-class rebellion against new labor laws/forced conscription, and Victor Hugo was on the “wrong side of the barricades” working with the government to violently suppress the rebels. To quote from this source:

Much to the disappointment of his supporters, in [Victor Hugo’s] first speech in the national assembly he went after the ateliers or national workshops, which had been a major demand of the workers. Two days later the workshops were closed, workers under twenty-five were conscripted and the rest sent to the countryside. It was a “political purge” and a declaration of war on the Parisian working class that set into motion the June Days, or the second revolution of 1848—an uprising lauded by Marx as one of the first workers’ revolutions. As the barricades went up in Paris, Hugo was tragically on the wrong side. On June 24 the national assembly declared a state of siege with Hugo’s support. Hugo would then sink to a new political low. He was chosen as one of sixty representatives “to go and inform the insurgents that a state of siege existed and that Cavaignac [the officer who had led the suppression of the June revolt] was in control.” With an express mission “to stop the spilling of blood,” Hugo took up arms against the workers of Paris. Thus, Hugo, voice of the voiceless and hero of workers, helped to violently suppress a rebellion led by people whom he in many ways supported—and many of whom supported him. With twisted logic and an even more twisted conscience, Hugo fought and risked his life to crush the June insurrection.

There is an otherwise baffling chapter in Les Mis titled "The Charybdis of the Faubourg Saint Antoine and the Scylla of the Fauborg Du Temple," where Hugo goes on a digression about June of 1848. Hugo contrasts June of 1848 with other rebellions, and insists that the June 1848 Rebellion was Wrong and Different. It is a strangely anti-rebellion classist chapter that feels discordant with the rest of the book. This is because it is Hugo's effort to (indirectly) address criticisms people had of his own involvement in June 1848, and to justify why he believed crushing that rebellion with so much force was necessary. The chapter is often misused to say that Hugo was "anti-violent-rebellion all the time" (which he wasn't) or that "rebellion is bad” is the message of Les Mis (which it isn't) ........but in reality the chapter is about Hugo attempting to justify his own past actions to the reader and to himself, actions which many people on his side of the political spectrum considered a betrayal. He couldn't really have written a novel about the politics of barricades without addressing his actions in June 1848, and he addressed them by attempting to justify them, and he attempted to justify them with a lot of deeply questionable rhetoric. 1848 is a lot, and I don't fully understand all the context yet-- but that general context is necessary to understand why the chapter is even in the novel. Late 1848/1849: Quoting from the earlier source again:

In the wake of the revolution, Hugo tried to make sense of the events of 1848. He tried to straddle the growing polarization between, on the one hand, “the party of order,” which coalesced around Napoleon’s nephew Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, who in December 1848 had been elected France’s president under a new constitution, and the “party of movement” (or radical Left) that, in the aftermath of 1848, had made considerable advances. In this climate, as Hugo increasingly spoke out, and faced opposition and repression himself, he was radicalized and turned to the Left for support against the tyranny and “barbarism” he saw in the government of Louis Napoleon. The “point of no return” came in 1849. Hugo became one of the loudest and most prominent voices of opposition to Louis Napoleon. In his final and most famous insult to Napoleon, he asked: “Just because we had Napoleon le Grand [Napoleon the Great], do we have to have Napoleon le petit [Napoleon the small]?” Immune from punishment because of his role in the government, Bonaparte retaliated by shutting down Hugo’s newspaper and arresting both his sons.

Thenardier is possibly meant to be Hugo’s caricature of Louis-Napoleon/Napoleon III. He is “Napoleon the small,” an opportunistic scumbag leeching off the legacy of Waterloo and Napoleon to give himself some respectability. He is a metaphorical ‘graverobber of Waterloo’ who has all of Napoleon’s dictatorial pettiness without any of his redeeming qualities.

It’s also worth noting that Marius is Victor “Marie” Hugo’s self-insert. Hugo’s politics changed wildly over time. Like Marius he was a royalist when was young. And like Marius, he looked up to Napoleon and to Napoleon III, before his views of them were shattered. This is reflected in the way Marius has complicated feelings of loyalty to his father (who’s very connected to the original Napoleon I) and to Thenardier (who’s arguably an analogue for Napoleon IiI.)

1851: 

On December 2, 1851, Louis Napoleon launched his coup, suspending the republic’s constitution he had sworn to uphold. The National Assembly was occupied by troops. Hugo responded by trying to rally people to the barricades to defend Paris against Napoleon’s seizure of power. Protesters were met with brutal repression.  Under increasing threat to his own life, with both of his sons in jail and his death falsely announced, Hugo finally left Paris.  He ultimately ended up on the island of Guernsey where he spent much of the next eighteen years and where he would write the bulk of Les Misérables. It was from here that his most radical and political work was smuggled into France.

Hugo arguably did some of his most important political work after being exiled. In Guernsey, he aided with resistance against the regime of Napoleon III. Hugo’s popularity with the masses also meant that his exile was massive news, and a thing all readers of Les Miserables would’ve been deeply familiar with.

This is why there are so many bits of Les Mis where the narrator nostalgically reflects on how much they wish they were in Paris again —these parts are very political; readers would’ve picked up that this was Victor Hugo reflecting on he cruelty of his own exile.  

1862-1863: Les Mis is published. It is a barely-veiled call to action against the government of Napoleon III, written about the June Rebellion instead of the current regime partially in order to dodge the censorship laws at the time.

Conservatives despise the book and call it the death of civilization and a dangerous rebellious evil godless text that encourages them to feel bad for the stupid evil criminal rebel poors and etc etc etc– (see @psalm22-6 ‘s excellent translations of the ancient conservative reviews)-- but the novel sells very well. Expressing  approval or disapproval of the book is considered inherently political, but fortunately it remains unbanned. 

…And that’s it! An ocean of basic historical context about Les Mis!

If anyone has any corrections  or additions they would like to make, feel free to add them! I have researched to the best of my ability, but I don’t pretend to be perfect. I also recommend listening to the Siecle podcast, which covers the events of the Bourbon Restoration starting at the Battle of Waterloo, if you're interested in learning more about the period!

[tobi-smp]

[looks left, looks right]

I've been holding this one back until people got cool with a lot of things very quickly but I think nows the time

lets have a quick examination of c!allium off the top of my head

1: ranboo joins the server and is immediately heckled by dream

2: that same day he meets tommy and they have the famous exchange where tommy asks ranboo if he likes flowers (to rib him) and ranboo accidentally punches him trying to give it to him. this is cute on its own, but of course we Know that tommy loves flowers, that he covered his house in them, that he sung to the plants in l'manberg

3: and importantly, that he took the flower

4: tommy immediately taking ranboo under his wing and running off to Do A Prank with him. this is really important because this is tommy trying to go back to the way that things were Before. the way that he'd had fun with his family and what he did when he felt safe and secure. this is tommy being silly with a new person he might consider a friend, but it's Also him trying to reconnect with that happy Free feeling he'd had before

5: they'd made a bunker specifically to plan out their prank, and he'd put the allium that ranboo gave him into a chest hidden for safe keeping. And That Allium Survived. he kept it and it survived

6: when they're caught not because what they did was Actually out of line (griefing was an every day occurrence, even and Especially between l'manberg and dream's territory), tommy Deliberately Did Not Throw Ranboo Under The Bus.

he didn't take it seriously, he made fun of everyone because the situation was ridiculous, but he Never implicated ranboo. and in fact, he only started Admitting to the crime When Ranboo Was Being Implicated. he Deliberately Took The Fall For Him.

(and it's worth noting that the evidence that was used to tie to tommy to the crime in the first place were signs that Ranboo wrote).

7: and in return Ranboo Stood Up For Tommy. ranboo is a character defined by his conflict avoidance and lack of spine, But He Stood Up For Him. he admitted to being a part of it, and he pointed Out that tommy was taking the fall to try to protect him, and he did so Specifically to counter tommy being called selfish.

8: then in between the trial and exile day tommy opened up to ranboo, both about being afraid of his relationship with tubbo falling apart AND with his relationship with wilbur. admitting to having nightmares and admitting that this fear of losing tubbo is tied to having lost wilbur. this is something he'd never said out loud to anybody at this point, and it'd be Many Many more months until he'd open up about it to anybody else.

9: while there Were people who visited tommy in exile multiple times, ranboo was undeniably the most consistent (outside of ghostbur, until well. dream tried to kill him)

he visited him in person And he wrote to him regularly. dream saw this as a threat so explicitly that he tried to sabotage their writing, to which ranboo circumvented it.

he'd regularly talk to tommy and try to help him while he was breaking down. he's one of the only people on the entire server to have a full picture of what happened and it ate at him.

10: he was Also the first person after techno to find out that tommy was still Alive.

11: ranboo's "dream is the reason" being intrinsically tied to how he's Seen dream hurt tommy and rip him apart from his friends.

12: His Speech At The Green Festival. "why can't you guys just choose PEOPLE" not directed at tommy but to Defend Him. why didn't they defend him because he was their Friend? why did the politics Matter when they all knew what was happening was wrong? (of course, we know the answer to that. but ranboo wasn't there to see it. he didn't know)

13: ranboo being there at doomsday, despite everything he was there. I Think About It

14: Ranboo Being There At The Disc War Finale, Finally Putting Himself Between Tommy And Dream. Dream Specifically Looking At Him In A Crowd Of People. I Think About It I Think About It.

15: Tommy's Death, My Fucking God Tommy's Death. him finding the allium and realizing that tommy had kept it. him openly furious at the way the server treated him, how nobody saved him and how all of this could've been prevented if people had just Acted, if they'd Cared. everyone including himself.

chewing out sam for leaving him, sam talking to him bluntly about exile, I Think About It I Think About It I Think About It

16: ranboo and tubbo shadowing tommy after his revival. killing mobs for him, putting blocks under him while he's walking, watching to make sure that he's okay. Trying To Help Him Be Okay. doing therapy with him, talking with him. so afraid that he'll just disappear. "does he make you happy?" I think about it

17: tommy having a place in the mansion, even if he'd never moved in, he was supposed to be there

18: a major part of ranboo's struggle with his enderwalking not Just being about the fear of it happening at all, But The Realization That He Might've Hurt Tommy and how it absolutely Ate Him Up Inside

In Conclusion: if beeduo marriage hadn't happened I fully believe people would've started shipping c!ranboo and c!tommy and all of the discourse about rpf would've happened about them instead, and then years later tommy would've dropped his own actual rpf featuring his real self. this alternate timeline is way funnier