#the envelope manufacturer

[pictureday2005]

[ovaruling]

oh fuck Big Envelope got to my mom 😔

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[kalpanahandmadepaper]

[galene-gothic]

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

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⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

Trigger warning

Your bare face is gorgeous. I’m not sure why I felt the need to say that but it just came through and I couldn’t ignore it. Your lips are an area of focus in this reading as well. I’m not sure what it is about your lips - it could be that you have naturally pink lips, cupid bow ones or have hyperpigmentation around your lips that make it look like you have a natural lip liner (it’s going to be different for everyone) but no matter what, they’re extremely gorgeous. Maybe because it’s winter in the northern hemisphere, many of you could wear lip balms, petroleum jelly or lip glosses but it gives your lips a wet appearance. If not, you lick and bite your lips a lot, like even if you don’t have any of the attributes mentioned above, the way you move your lips, the way you touch it, lick it, bite it, everything just gives you a different vibe. Now moving beyond your lips because while I could sing praises about them all day, I want the reading to consist of more. Your energy is such that when people see your vices or perceived ‘flaws’, it doesn’t disinterest them but instead only add more dimension to you. It makes you more attractive to them because they experience a certain ‘rawness’ in you that they might not get to experience elsewhere in this world due to how everyone is striving for perfection to the point they all seem manufactured. You’re someone who people stare at when in cafés or public places and I’m so sorry but you have fallen victim to catcalling possibly multiple times especially when you were younger than you are right now. You didn’t deserve that. People find themselves losing a certain level of consciousness when they’re close to you, especially physically. You cause people to feel a heat when around you and even away from you, it depends on the person, sometimes it is a gentle warmth that envelops them, sometimes it is a certain hotness running through their that makes it hard for them to contain themselves around you, to even breathe around you, let alone act normal and sometimes it is in the form of jealousy, people of the same sex or who are interested in increasing their appeal but haven’t been able to find their own spark feel intimidated by your scorching heat that seems to engulf all around it unapologetically. One thing that I need to warn you about is that you definitely have people who are jealous of you. You don’t even seem to notice it but when you’re out, people who are literally taken tend to check you out right in front of them, causing their partner to feel a certain hostility towards you. People stare at you a lot, it is very obvious. It’s come through multiple times. Right now, you’re someone who is just very nonchalant. You don’t hold onto connections too tightly, let alone chase them.

You used to formerly speak with your eyes a lot with certain people, it created a sense of knowing, belonging, connection and familiarity but now you just walk past those same people like you don’t know them or you might greet them, smile at them but you don’t seem to have the same gaze in your eyes anymore, often breaking eye contact quickly or not even caring enough to maintain it, it causes them to feel hurt sometimes, wondering if they never meant anything to you, if you just forgot them, if they were just that forgettable to you but it also makes you irresistibly attractive to them. You’ve developed a certain peace within yourself, there were days when you didn’t know how to live or had forgotten how to do so. You had become very internal, causing you to live within yourself and with it came a lot of overthinking. You used to hold onto grief and people could have underestimated you back then but you have moved far past that. You’ve become more present and mindful, you have started living beyond your mind. You’re starting to smile more, live more and keep your life, treasure it, even if it isn’t perfect, even if it didn’t turn out the way you had imagined. You’ve definitely had a past that was full of tears. It was difficult but you’ve left it all behind, this sense of presence and contentment is adding onto your attractiveness because the sorrow you’ve experienced has also given you a lot of wisdom. One thing that you don’t want to fall into is mourning and desperation because you have experienced both. ‘Extreme nostalgia’ is what I just heard. The sorrow you’ve experienced on your path, the tears that you’ve cried are the very things that are helping you move forward with such confidence and self assuredness. Since you’ve experienced so much, many dark thoughts too, possibly suicidal ones for some of you and have always managed to find a way out, you just feel like things will turn out fine in the end. You have tortured yourself enough in the past, it’s time to live now. That’s how you think and this shift is noticeable because you’re just focused on your own life. Your perception of connections especially romantic ones is that while they’re beautiful, people can burst your bubble so you just want to be discerning enough to only let a certain kind of people into your life like that. You desire to love but it’s not that big of a desire anymore, everyone wants love, to give and receive it, to be desired and desire someone but the way you look at it is “I’ve been there, I’m glad I’m out”, you’re just glad to be over it. It doesn’t even have to be romantic, I’m picking up on major disappointments in connections in general, causing you to prioritise yourself first and foremost.

You’re actually a hopeless romantic, a devotee. When you love, it’s very deep for you, your love is of divine nature. There’s no wandering eyes or anything of that sort, there’s just your person who you hold to be dear, almost divine, your love is devotional, almost like worship. I wonder if there was a point when you were devoted to the platonic or/and romantic connections in your life just for them to end and you were devastated about at least one or a few of them but the fact that you’ve managed to come out of it has given you more power because you know how deep your love runs, you know how you love and what kind of love you give out, and desire for yourself so it gives you the self assuredness that you deserve similar energy. You hold yourself and others to a high standard but if they don’t live up to it, you just abandon them and move forward. It’s nothing malicious but you just don’t see the point in getting caught up in the waiting game, training game or sticking around to entertain less than what you know you deserve. You have a different, slightly detached and elusive vibe to you. Your eyes and words tend to teleport people to a different world, not literally obviously but that’s what it feels like for them. Your energy is not possible to ignore, it bothers those around you because of the elusiveness mixed with the heat that I mentioned earlier but it’s not a bother that they ever want to get rid of. They enjoy the feeling of slight discomfort that comes from your presence. You interact with people very casually, not with everyone obviously but your ease of interacting with others is something that adds to your attractiveness. The vibe that I’m getting from you is that some people are bothered by your heat, others find it warm but both of these parties do not even realise when you started filling their world with nothing but yourself, it just hits them randomly and so strongly. I’m picking up on a romantic vibe from you and your beauty, it seems very gentle despite the heat you radiate. You’re also full of contradictions, despite your heat, you have a romantic appeal but despite the gentleness and elusiveness of it, you really confuse people. Some of you get turned on by fighting, not the excessive toxic kind of fighting but the dramatic yet silly ones that add to the pulse on your vertical lips are very much welcome by you 😭. I keep on hearing ‘what do you mean?’ by Justin Bieber here. “Don’t know if you’re happy or complaining”, “first you wanna go to the left and then turn right, wanna argue all day, make love all night.” You feel like home while simultaneously repulsing people. You’re a complex person full of contradictions and that’s what seems to make you attractive. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

This pile is for you if you have been touching and rubbing yourself a lot recently or just do so a lot generally. You have an intense sexual nature but really innocent eyes. You also crave fairytale love, like the innocent kind of love that doesn’t include touching and rubbing but just an eye contact makes you feel something, just an accidental brushing of skin is enough to make blood rush up to your cheeks, that’s the kind of love you desire and also give out but despite that, your sexual energy slips past your fairly pure and innocent exterior. Despite your love for consuming romantic content, you are not desperate for it. You understand that it’s a luxury to be with you and act like it. You know that people pleasing is self betrayal so you do not go out of your way to please others but at the same time, when they’re around you, you do please them? It just comes naturally to you. Much like the last pile, I’m getting something with the lips but in this pile, either you have plump lips, have a protruding lower lip or just pout a lot. Maybe, it’s just a natural slightly pouty appearance but I’m literally getting flying kisses so I’m not sure. Despite this innocent appearance and your desire for romance, you are very good at leaving people behind. You’ve learned that it’s best not to overstay your welcome anywhere. You’re someone who leaves people and things behind at the required pace, and you do not even seem to care about what anyone might think. You are fine with being lonely, what you’re not fine is getting used and heartbroken by people who might not have your best interests at heart. You have always had this delicate balance between being a friend and a lover. This could have led to misunderstandings in the past, you tend to treat your friends affectionately and generously, and those of the opposite sex or the sex you are interested in romantically might misunderstand, taking it as a free pass to underestimate and disrespect you? It has likely happened at some point in the past, definitely not for all of you but this quality of yours makes you very attractive. Also, when you fall apart from such people, they aren’t even able to voice out how much they miss you because you didn’t have a relationship set in stone and you just act as though you never even met them, as if you don’t know them, never did. In the past, you may have been unable to maintain this delicate balance or might perceive it as such but you are starting to go forward in life with stronger boundaries and that makes you very attractive.

I wouldn’t be surprised if some or in fact, many of you stopped making friends with the opposite sex due to such misunderstandings and disrespect. People from the past miss you, they’re terribly attracted to you and you’re irreplaceable but you’ve clearly grown out of that. If not, this is not your pile. I’m getting a lot of youthful energy here. It’s not just this delicate balance that has made you feel misunderstood in the past but also your friendships with people of the same sex. I’m legit getting friends from school missing you if you’re out of it and away from them (especially if you separated from them connection wise). You do not realise just how hard the nostalgia hits people of the past when it comes to you. People remember you as ‘the one that got away’ honestly and I hate this concept because it’s just sad, and I believe in true love being present, and not getting away but yes, you’re awfully missed. This is funny but people realise that they love or miss you at around 1-3 a.m. in the morning. You have something melancholic and lonely about you but also something so wholesome, and warm at the same time but you also interact with them by rolling eyes, sighing, vacantly staring, calling them dumb and saying something like “who cares?” All of this is dearly missed when you’re gone. You shouldn’t have to get away for people to want you, to appreciate and desire you, to treat you kindly, and with love and respect. You have this thing where you naturally love your friends a lot and don’t hold them inferior to other connections but this has led to you naturally relying on them and also treating them with a lot of love, and priority, and it was not rewarding for you because they used to develop hostility towards you over time for some reason. You’re very attractive to those from the past because they’ll genuinely never find someone like you anywhere. You’re an unconditionally loving person but you also understand that it’s better not to get involved in the lives of messy people. Also, you have a very casual and friendly way of interacting with people when they’re around you, you greet people and treat them as though you’ve known them for years at least for the amount of time that you’re around them even if you’ve just met them. You also have a tendency to be mean and get on people’s nerves but it only makes you more endearing because they get obsessed yet repulsed by you.

There’s something very innocent and pure, almost naive about you but also someone so dirty and mature. The energy here is a bit more contradictory but your contradictions are what seem to make you attractive. People who are used to being in control and are able to read others well find themselves being unable to remain controlled when around you and fail to read you, causing them to be frustrated, intrigued or/and drawn to you. There’s just something different about you that makes others feel like they’re changing, they’re shaking up, it’s not something that they can even put a finger on, it just is. People can’t help but want you around after meeting you, your presence and energy are intoxicating. I wouldn’t be surprised if once you enter a new environment, you see specific people everywhere around you because they just want to be close to you even if it’s from a distance. Many of you here seem to look like puppies or possess that kind of energy. This is the pile where you attract or at least intrigue those slightly older than you. Even people who claimed to ‘not date someone younger than them EVER’ can’t help but be curious about you, be attracted to you. Despite your youthful and puppy like energy, it’s them that feel like a puppies? Like, after meeting you, initially you’re the one acting like a puppy, treating them well and lighting up when you see them but the more the time starts passing by they feel like you’re not taking them seriously, they’re the one following you around everywhere, wanting to prove themselves to you, they do not even understand why they feel so lovesick without you around as if they were a puppy without their owner. Also, another thing is that some people have their youth attached to you and well, they’re still attracted to you even if you’re no longer in touch. Time passes by too fast when you’re around, people find themselves wishing that the hours would go slow so that they could spend more time with you. You’re a piece of warm sunlight of the first spring when it’s not hot yet but just a pleasant weather with a slight amount of coldness that vanishes when you graze their skin. You’re a joy to be around - a dream girl. You’re pleasant because there’s nothing too imposing about you but your energy though gentle and soft in nature is felt strongly, enveloping all that’s around you. People can’t help but want to be a part of your world. There’s also a sense of fragility that I’m picking up on here but it’s something that others feel fortunate to see about you. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

I think that some of you love dancing or just enjoy being young and enjoying life, being present. You’re just so candid, there’s something youthful and timeless about you due to how present you are because you’re someone who actively tries to be present. You do not want to perish with time which is why you try to make every moment count, to have adventures, to try and live your dreams, to leave a legacy. “People will not remember what you wore but they will remember how you made them feel.” You seem to have a solid understanding of this and try to make others feel good about themself and life itself. You’re very busy making the most out of your youth and out of your life but in your presence, you try to make sure that others don’t feel left out, you try to be as inclusive as possible, understanding that they too will only live once. You have an energy that’s everlastingly young about you and your eyes are very attractive, like they’re just captivating regardless of their size, shape and colour. Your eyes give you an appearance of goodness because they look like eyes that would belong to someone good, they’re open, inviting and warm but it seems like more of a disguise once you’re gone because when people run into you or are around you again after a falling out of some sort, your eyes lack that old familiar warmth that once greeted them and they feel an actual ache at the thought that your life continued on without them. You are someone who won’t stop your life for anyone, you want to have fun and spend your life joyfully so when you’re not getting that with certain people or in certain environments, you’re quick to pull yourself and continue on with your life, trying to make it as beautiful and celebratory as possible. Many really extravagant words are coming through for you, I wonder if your energy is a bit dramatic and extravagant too. You are someone who knows how to touch people and gently persuade them but remain distant, causing people to admire you and almost need you. There are times when people think that you’re wasting their time and try to give up on you but something happens that causes them to lose their discernment and heart to you again.

It’s hard to stay composed when you’re around because you just make them feel like little children. I find this endearing, you have a way of making everything very personal. You make memories with people and one thing in particular that stands out to me as attractive is when you call people by their name, it feels personal, it feels sweet. However, most people do not come forth to you beyond yearning for you. You’ve probably had friends confess to you in the past, out of nowhere. You’re very loveable in every sense of the word and people who share closeness to you or once did cannot help but wish for more than that. Many people do not even manage to get as close to you as they’d like to. There’s a lot of fear attached to confessing their feelings for you. The helplessness attached to liking you makes you irresistibly attractive, pretty much obsessively magnetic. Seduction is supposed to be subtle, it’s supposed to be non threatening, that’s what your attractiveness is like. I won’t lie, you do have a very scary attractive appeal too, like people who are attracted to you right away but even so, you win them over more and more over time. When you are around people, the world seems to stop but they don’t even notice it until after a while, they’ll have no clue when it started, when it got so deep. People do have a recognition of a connection with you from the start itself, of course it isn’t like that for everyone and it doesn’t have to be but those who recognise this are still unable to voice it out, however, if you’ve experienced this, you’re probably aware of how they act because their actions and mannerisms likely do give away their feelings. I’m picking up on humiliation, ridicule of looks, etc. You seem to have glowed up, take good care of yourself physically and dress to the best of ability, carrying yourself with your head held high because you remember how you were treated when you weren’t as attractive. This could be something like people close to you leaving you or disrespecting you too, it seems to extend beyond just looks actually, you’ve glowed up mentally and emotionally too. Also, you are forgetting the past, you are trying to, you have grown and don’t want it to hold any power over you at all. You are not in denial or anything, in fact, the kind of ‘forgetting’ seems to be a very healthy one, you’re naturally letting things go without regrets.

You make people feel very young, to share an innocent bond with you, full of memories, they can’t help but yearn for you. It’s your friends and those you share communities with that find you to be the most attractive. Also, you’re someone who literally doesn’t have regrets in terms of connections because you’ve always done your best, you’ve always given your all. You have really strong self respect, it was likely developed with time and experience but those you share memories and past with, if they were struggling, you’d not let them come back in order to search for comfort, support and companionship because you remember how they left. Those who have lost you have especially had to pine for you, the realisation that there’s no one like you is hitting them. Many of these people, even platonic connections seem to have acted like you weren’t all that in the past but now the reality of having lost you is starting to set in. Some of you have nice thick hair or you do something that makes it look full, you could simply just leave it open for example, some of you here use a lot of eye pencil, liner or eyeshadow too probably in brown or black, if not you just have captivating eyes like I said earlier. Your energy brings about a heat that is hard to ignore, it’s usually a strong heat than just a warmth, the type to make people act out of control because they’re not sure how to act around you. It’s like you make them lose control and feel hot, and they regret certain things they say or do but still crave more of it because it’s addictive. The way you move too, gosh, you might not even pay that much attention to it but you’re so attractive like lethally attractive. I keep on getting a theme of you wasting people’s time but it doesn’t even seem to be intentional, you just move on with your life is all. You come off as someone who’s like “if we meet again, we meet, if we don’t, you have my memories to remember me by.” You make everything feel like a movie - a dream - in fact. People get so attached to you, they get so used to you, when you’re not around even the most familiar place starts feeling strange. Some of you could possess dimples or one single dimple. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

[westeckwindows]

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[pictureday2005]

[hyorijie]

Dear gift | Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags

Alastor being a jerk, Christmas Eve, making fun of you, Alastor doesn't apologize, Reader is really furious, surprise gift.

Summary

Alastor would cross the limits of your patience by messing up the one artifact that kept you truly sane in the hellish chaos of your eternal damnation.

Furious and with your sanity hanging by a thread you throw him away from your presence, however he would give you a surprise something... impossible to believe.

After an exhausting day decorating the hotel, you finally managed to escape to the quiet of your room. You didn't expect that recommending you as a Christmas decorating helper would keep you busy for so many hours, but Charlie's energy and enthusiasm were impossible to ignore. Now, as you closed the door behind you, exhaustion was building in your shoulders, and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. You had earned this small moment of peace, and you didn't plan to waste it.

You lay back on the bed, letting the mattress envelop you with its familiarity. You stared at the ceiling, your thoughts wandering in a back-and-forth between the bustle of the day and the comfort of the present. It was then that something crossed your mind, something that had taken a backseat amidst the chaos of the decorations: the new artifact you had obtained.

With renewed momentum, you got out of bed and crossed the room to your dresser. There it was, just as you had left it. A flash of excitement lit up your face as your fingers glided over the smooth surface of the small player. Its sleek, minimalist design made you feel as if you were holding a fragment of your past life, a reminder of the technology you had cherished so much on Earth.

You opened it carefully, admiring the details and precision of its manufacture. Nostalgia settled in your chest, warm and comforting. After a few seconds of scanning, you rushed to pair it with your phone, feeling strangely excited about what was about to happen. Connectivity was surprisingly fast, and soon, the room was filled with a melody you recognized instantly.

The music flowed with astonishing clarity, so clear that it seemed impossible that it was coming from this corner of hell. You closed your eyes, allowing the notes to transport you to another time, another place. Images of your life on Earth paraded through your mind: happy moments, more difficult ones, but all tinged with a sense of belonging that you thought was lost. Without realizing it, you smiled, letting the music envelop you.

You were so immersed in the melody that you didn't notice it at first. A soft rustling sound broke the air, barely audible, but peculiar enough to open your eyes. You froze for a moment, hoping it was a figment of your imagination, but then came a sound you knew all too well: a low, mocking laugh that reverberated like an echo in your room.

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The energy that filled the room, that peculiar magnetism accompanied by a faint hint of static, gave it away. Still, you let out a sigh, more exasperated than surprised.

— I knew this was too good to last —you muttered under your breath, though your comment was clearly directed at the intruder.

— Well, well...— he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he took a step toward you.— It seems that someone is indulging in artifacts of... dubious provenance? Not from Voxtek, that despicable creation of my dear enemy? What would you think if I told you that this might be more dangerous than you think?

As you opened your eyes and slowly turned around, there he was, leaning confidently against the door frame, his trademark grin stretching from ear to ear. Alastor was staring at the player as if it were an object out of place, something that shouldn't exist. His gaze exuded curiosity, disdain and, of course, that unsettling touch of amusement that always seemed to accompany it.

You sit up, hugging the player as if to protect it from his comments.

— Don't start, Alastor. It's just music, not a lethal weapon. —you reply, rolling your eyes.

— Oh, my dear — he said with a chuckle that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up —everything that comes from Vox is a weapon, whether physical or psychological. And you, so naive, here you are enjoying it as if it were nothing.

Before you could respond, a flash of his green magic sparkled in the air, and in the blink of an eye, the player floated from your hands. You jerked up, alarmed, but it was too late. Alastor's grin widened just as the small device exploded in a burst of smoke and sparks.

— Alastor! —you shouted, indignantly, as the smell of burning permeated the air.

He simply shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence.

— Oh, my, how clumsy of me. My magic must have been out of control. What a tragedy, isn't it?

You clenched your fists, feeling anger boil in your chest. — You're a fucking lunatic! —you snapped, pointing at the remains of the player. You had no right!

Alastor bowed his head, his smile losing some of its amusement to become something more dangerous.

— I did it for your sake. That artifact was an unnecessary distraction... and a risk, considering who makes it.

—That wasn't your decision! —You retorted, taking a step towards him, furious. — I'm not one of your puppets, Alastor. You can't control me like everyone else.

For a moment, his smile faded, and something shone in his eyes that you couldn't identify. Then, in one fluid motion, he leaned toward you, standing close enough that you could feel the static in the air. His voice descended to a deep, menacing whisper.

— I may not be able to control you, but I can protect you. Even if that means protecting you from yourself.

You didn't know what to say in response. Its proximity was overwhelming, its intensity crushing. But you refused to back down, even as you felt your heart pounding. You stared at him, your eyes challenging his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Finally, Alastor straightened, the smile returning to his lips.

— Consider this a lesson, my dear. All that glitters is not gold... nor all that sings, music. — With that, he spun on his heel and disappeared in a flash of static.

You stood alone in your room, the remains of the player strewn at your feet, feeling a mixture of anger, frustration... and something else you didn't want to admit. But one thing was certain: you didn't plan to let this confrontation end here.

...

The incident with the player was still fresh in your memory, like a puncture wound that had not yet healed. Less than 24 hours had passed, but the pent-up rage in your chest remained latent, burning beneath the surface. You had tried to reason it out, to find a justification for Alastor's absurd reaction, but nothing could calm your frustration.

It was clear that this maniac did not understand the existence of limits, or perhaps he simply refused to respect them. What exasperated you most was that, before you could even explain to him that the device was specifically modified to block any attempt at Vox espionage, he had already reduced it to a pile of smoldering junk. And now, every time you remembered it, a new surge of fury came over you, along with a fleeting desire to rip off one of those deer ears as punishment.

Of course, you knew that would only happen in your imagination. Instead of losing yourself in vengeful fantasies, you promise yourself that you would ignore it completely. It was a small punishment, but symbolic enough to perhaps make you understand that you had crossed a line.

So there you were, sitting at the lobby bar, sharing light conversation with Angel Dust and Husk. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time all day, you felt something akin to calm. Angel was in his typical over-the-top mode, dramatizing some recent gossip, while Husk grumbled in the background and poured himself another drink. The dynamic was simple and comfortable, just what you needed to distract you.

But then you felt it.

A slight vibration in the air, like a flash of static electricity running across your skin. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The familiarity of that presence, its distinctive energy, was unmistakable. Alastor had arrived.

His arrival was, as always, theatrical. A shadow snaked across the floor to position itself behind you, followed by the characteristic crackle of static. Even without looking at him, you could feel his attention focused on you, that piercing gaze that seemed to pierce anyone with a mixture of amusement and menace.

However, you weren't going to give it to them that easy. You had made a decision, and you planned to stick to it. You pretended not to notice his presence, even as Angel Dust abruptly stopped speaking, his eyes flickering with surprise at seeing the demon so close to you.

��� Well, well... What now? — Angel muttered, clearly interested in what was about to happen.

You, on the other hand, just took the last sip of your drink. You felt the warmth of the liquor slide down your throat as you set the glass down on the bar with deliberate calm. This was no time to hesitate.

Without turning, you rose from your chair with a confidence that would almost surprise yourself. You could feel Alastor still watching you, his attention intensifying with each step you took. Angel Dust tried to fill the awkward silence with a mocking comment, but you didn't even get to hear it.

The only thing you did was to raise a hand, with a gesture that left no room for misinterpretation: your middle finger pointing clearly in the direction where you knew Alastor was. All without turning an inch, remaining completely oblivious to his presence, as if he deserved nothing more than that gesture of disdain.

The silence that fell in the hall was almost deafening. You could feel Husk slowly put his glass down, and Angel Dust's jaw almost touched the floor. Neither of them dared say a word, their eyes alternating between you and Alastor.

You, for your part, continue on your way to the exit without looking back, though you could well imagine the demon's expression behind you. It was rare that he didn't intervene immediately, and that gave you a small spark of satisfaction.

Let him stand there with his broken smile and bruised ego , you thought with a flash of pride as you walked away.

Perhaps you did not have the satisfaction of witnessing it, but behind you, in the center of the hall, Alastor's eye began to wobble in a nervous and violent twitch, barely perceptible to anyone who did not know him.

Without a word, Alastor let out an inaudible sigh, a vain attempt to release the tension that was beginning to form in his shoulders. His gaze drifted momentarily to Angel and Husk, who were still transfixed, eyes wide and lips parted, too shocked by what they had just witnessed. Angel, in particular, seemed to be processing the scene with visible effort, as if he couldn't decide if he should laugh, make a comment, or just run away before the tension erupted.

Alastor gave them no such treat. Without a word, and without allowing his emotions to seep past that lingering twitch in his eye, he vanished into the shadows abruptly, almost aggressively.

Christmas Eve came earlier than you would have liked. Although the hotel decorations had turned out spectacular, thanks in large part to your help, the holiday itself brought mixed feelings. Charlie had organized a simple, personal gift exchange, handing out carefully selected gifts to each resident.

When it was your turn, you opened your gift and found a beautiful necklace. The chain was thin but sturdy, with a delicate pendant that seemed to sparkle even in the dim light of the hallway. You admired it for a few moments before thanking Charlie with a genuine smile. The princess, always attentive, returned you a warm look, happy that she had been right with her choice. All around you, laughter and murmurs of amazement filled the air as everyone admired the gifts they received.

However, despite the warmth of the celebration, something inside you didn't quite click. You couldn't stop your thoughts from going back to the player you had lost. It was more than just a device to you. It represented a tangible link to memories of your life on Earth, a connection to moments that now seemed more distant than ever. And Alastor, with his characteristic arrogance, had destroyed it without even allowing you to explain. Even amidst the laughter and joy of others, you felt an emptiness you could not ignore.

When you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to retire earlier than expected. You offered a quick excuse, something about being tired from the busy day, and slipped away from the hustle and bustle of the lobby. As you reach your room, you notice something strange. In front of your door, carefully placed on the floor, was a package wrapped in deep red paper, decorated with a perfectly tied golden bow.

You frowned, puzzled. It bore no card or sender, but there was something familiar about the way it was decorated. With a mixture of curiosity and caution, you bent down to pick it up, feeling the weight of the object in your hands. Once inside your room, you sat on the edge of the bed and began to unwrap it, fingers working carefully over the easily yielding paper.

What you found inside made the air clog your lungs. It was a music player, but not just any music player. This wasn't a modern Voxtek model; it was terrestrial, a classic model that you recognized instantly. Its design was timeless, with clean lines and details that made it unique. It seemed restored with almost obsessive care, every detail carefully adjusted. The screen glowed softly when you turned it on, and as soon as the music began to play, a nostalgic warmth enveloped you. The sound was crisp and warm, unlike anything you'd ever heard in Hell. It was like an echo from another time, one you thought was lost forever.

You didn't need clues to know who had left it. The decoration of the package, the precision with which the player had been restored... everything bore his unmistakable stamp. A soft, almost involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you ran your fingers over the smooth surface of the device. Alastor. In a strange and eccentric way, he had tried to redeem himself. Perhaps he would never admit it, but this gesture spoke more than any words he could ever utter.

You lay back on the bed, letting the music fill the room. You looked toward the window, wondering if he would be nearby, hiding in the shadows, watching as was typical of him. But you decide not to look for him. You knew that if he wanted to talk, he would do so in his own way and in his own time. For now, this gesture was enough. It represented more than any verbal apology could convey.

The music continued to flow, enveloping the space with a warmth that did not come from the sound alone. It was the warmth of knowing that, despite everything, Alastor had the ability to surprise you, to show that beneath his cloak of arrogance and cruelty, there was something more. A small glimmer of humanity that, though it rarely peeked through, was there.

You stood there, letting the music and the sense of redemption fill every corner of your room. Alastor could be many things: manipulative, self-centered, even terrifying. But at that moment, he wasn't as despicable as he liked to pretend.

Yes, he definitely wasn't as despicable after all.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow

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

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

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Chapter 2

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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.

You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.

You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.

It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.

It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.

Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.

You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.

All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.

The money was at least a month's work.

You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.

You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.

Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.

The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.

You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.

Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.

You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.

Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.

You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.

You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.

There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.

You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.

"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".

You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.

With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.

You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.

'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.

"No, Sir".

"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".

You could tell he was upset with you.

"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"

You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.

'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.

"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.

"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"

He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.

"Ungrateful brat".

"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"

"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".

You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.

"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".

You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.

He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.

"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".

You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.

"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".

"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"

He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".

"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".

You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.

"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"

"Ye-yes" you stutter.

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"yes" you repeat.

"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".

"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"

"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"

"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.

"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.

His thumbs circles on your throat.

"I had to work back" you admit.

"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.

"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".

"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".

You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.

"Lets see it" he demands.

With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.

He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.

"My coins".

"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"

Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.

"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".

It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.

You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.

He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".

He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.

You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.

Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.

"If I had known" you start.

"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.

You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.

"Keep them. You earnt them".

You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.

He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.

he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.

He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.

"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.

'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".

"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.

"We're friends, right?"

You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.

"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".

"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.

"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".

He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.

"What?" you breathe.

His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.

The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.

He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.

"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.

You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.

"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"

"I don't want-"

He sh's you.

"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".

"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.

"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".

The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.

"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.

The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.

'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.

"I am not sure" you reply honestly.

-----------

You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.

You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.

You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.

Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.

They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.

It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.

He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.

"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.

The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.

"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.

It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.

'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.

He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.

Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.

"I should go" you state.

"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.

You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.

He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.

"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.

It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.

Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.

He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.

"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.

He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.

"Give it to me".

You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.

Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.

"It's very dear to me, Sir".

"I'll take very good care of it".

You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.

"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.

You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.

He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.

"There's sugar there if you want it".

You stand up angry.

"I don't want it. I have to get to work".

You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.

Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.

"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.

"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".

"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.

You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.

It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.

You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.

No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.

----------

On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.

Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.

You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.

Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.

He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.

You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.

He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.

The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.

You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.

He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.

Your next box would be smaller.

A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.

He was going to be left behind at his current rate.

"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.

"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.

''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".

He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.

The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.

Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.

The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.

You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.

"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.

You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.

"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".

The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.

You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.

You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.

It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.

Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.

he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.

The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.

The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.

Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.

The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.

You tighten your hold and spin to face him.

You looked shocked to see him.

"Commander Snow, sir"

A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.

He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.

"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"

"I'll be fine on my own, sir"

"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".

Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.

"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.

You turn away, curling your body around the child.

"No. It's ok. I've got him".

Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.

You could always swap half way if you wanted.

"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".

We're. we. us. The partners in crime.

He bucks his chest out with confidence.

You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.

"He's alright" you insist.

The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.

He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.

"Are you following me?"

"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".

Close enough to the truth.

"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"

His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.

"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.

You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,

"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"

You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".

He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.

'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".

You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.

"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.

You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.

He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.

You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.

"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.

You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.

"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.

"Who's to say I don't know em".

"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".

He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.

"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".

You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.

He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.

He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.

You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.

You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".

He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.

"it might just be best if i go on with him".

He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.

'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.

The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.

You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.

"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.

Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.

He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.

"Do you want children?" He matches your pace

"No" you spat, "never".

Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.

But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.

"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".

You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.

Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.

"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.

His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.

He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.

A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.

He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.

The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.

It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.

oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.

"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".

You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.

"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".

He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.

"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".

This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.

"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.

It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.

"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".

Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.

"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".

It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.

His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.

The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.

You might be beaten for your rejection.

You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.

Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.

He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.

"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".

You trash under him, screaming.

His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.

His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.

''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".

He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.

"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".

His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.

The weight upon your hands hurt.

"Yes, Sir".

"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".

You give two little nods.

"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".

He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.

You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.

The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.

You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.

"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".

You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.

He nods in understanding.

"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.

You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.

You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.

You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.

It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.

-----------

Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.

The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.

The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.

Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.

"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".

Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.

A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.

The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.

Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.

The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.

Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.

He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.

More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.

Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.

You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.

You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.

But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.

You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.

Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.

He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".

Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.

You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.

You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.

The rage in your eyes matches his.

---------

Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.

You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.

He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.

You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.

Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.

"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.

He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.

You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.

"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.

I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.

"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.

"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".

"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".

It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.

He wanted to slap you until you did.

But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.

"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".

You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.

"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.

"Give me the shoes" you demanded.

He drops the shoes to the ground.

"come and get them" he taunts.

You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.

He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.

"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".

You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.

he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.

This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.

He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.

"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".

He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.

But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.

He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.

He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.

[cosmopapers]

Cosmopapers: A Dive into the World of Envelope Manufacturers in Delhi

When it comes to envelopes, quality matters. That's why Cosmopapers is your go-to choice for envelope manufacturers in Delhi. From a wide range of colors and sizes to exceptional customer service, we've got everything you need to make your mail stand out. Try us today and experience the difference!

Click here -https://cosmopapers.in/Home/productsview?Id=2

[kalpanahandmadepaper]

Handmade Elegance: Cards and Envelopes for Every Occasion

In an era dominated by digital communication, the charm of handwritten notes remains unparalleled. Handmade paper cards and envelopes offer a unique touch that transcends mere words, allowing the sender to convey emotions in a heartfelt manner. This blog will explore various types of handmade cards and envelopes, showcasing how they enhance every occasion, from weddings to casual greetings.

[artbyblastweave]

So for those of you who don't read twenty-year-old marvel comics a lot, the 2005 Marvel Crisis Crossover was called House of M. The basic premise of this was that this was smack dab in the middle of the Scarlet-Witch-is-Having-a-Normal-one arc that was very, very loosely adapted into Wandavision; in her initial breakdown, she'd killed several of the Avengers, wound up in the protective custody of Magneto, and the recently reformed team was debating whether or not they were going to have to kill her before she deleted reality on accident or some such thing. But when they're on their way to Magneto's stronghold to have a "talk" with her, the world is enveloped in white, and Wolverine (the initial POV character) wakes up in a world where Mutants are 98% of the human population and have been for decades, and Magneto and his family (the titular House of M) are leaders of the global political order, and Wolverine is one of the only people in this realigned world who remembers that it was ever different.

Wolverine initially is operating under the assumption that Magneto cajoled Wanda into rewriting reality in his family's favor, but after rounding up and waking up several of his allies, he realizes that what actually happened is that Wanda rewrote reality so that everyone she knew would get everything they wanted- Magneto being in charge with a 98 percent global mutation rate is just the inevitable byproduct of that. The resulting world is an amalgamation that has to accommodate the conscious or subconscious "perfect life" of every superhero on earth, in a way that acts as a fascinating characterization tool, often with a monkey's-paw angle. Spider-Man is a beloved celebrity wrestler, and Uncle Ben and Gwen are both alive, but he attained that status by pretending to be a Mutant and he lives in constant fear of being exposed. Mystique, Rogue, Nightcrawler and several of their associates are the tight-knit family unit they were always kept from being.... as the elite jackboot of Magneto's regime. Luke Cage and Hawkeye lead the human resistance, standing in perpetual principled opposition to the powers that be, but with no real hope of accomplishing anything. Captain America didn't lose years of his life to the ice, but he had to live through a global authoritarian takeover he ultimately couldn't do anything about. Wolverine gets to remember his entire life, but that includes remembering that his current ideal circumstances were manufactured to keep him placated. And on and on and on. Lot of really interesting character takes packed up in there, paired with the equally interesting project of packing as many of them as possible into the same timeline without contradicting each other- after all, from the word go you have to contort everyone's happiness around the basic conceit that Magneto rules the world.

Anyway. House of M AU for Worm. Discuss.

[saerins]

─── 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄

+ gojo x f!reader | wc 2.3k | content: modern au, fluff, slight angst, rich!gojo, rich!reader, arranged marriage but reversed(?), slightly suggestive

notes: haha i was exploring tropes and this just came to me :’) fairly nervous so feedbacks and reblogs appreciated muwah <3

summary: sometimes you think that you and gojo are not meant to be. and sometimes, he itches to prove you wrong.

there are many things you would call gojo satoru. partner in crime, friendship on fire, a twisted manifestation of the kind of romance that would consume you whole if you didn’t take precaution.

“ready to do this, baby?”

he’s as sweet-lipped as ever, the honeyed words overflowing from his tongue. how you’d miss it, those words you hear at night, the saccharine praises that send you into overdrive.

“only if you are, sweetie.”

you’re equally good at it, having learned from one of the best—gojo satoru himself. you smirk at him, straightening his suit and tie. he looks devilishly handsome in that tailored suit, the one you had made for him. if you recall correctly, he only saves it for a special occasion.

and it qualifies—today is definitely a special occasion.

“so happy to be getting rid of me?” satoru asks you, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes. his white lashes house a sea of crystalline blue, the kind you’ve gotten addicted to, the same pair you’d gotten lost in many times over.

you’ll never forget it.

the way satoru’s lips ghost over your own. the way his index finger trails up the side of your arm. he likes the goosebumps that sear across your skin. satoru loves knowing the effect he has on you.

this marriage of convenience has taken its toll on both your families. in hindsight, they should’ve known that they can’t control either of you. the gojo family, for all they’re worth, thought that gojo satoru would never betray their money, their status. and your family—they’d always known you’d objected to these notions; convenience, business, romance—the way these three intertwine intentionally, a manufactured relationship borne out of familial ties.

it’s bullshit.

how lucky for you, that gojo satoru felt the same. he still feels the same, which is why he’s in front of you right now, getting ready to drop the bomb in the investors’ meeting.

his father is sure to kill him, but that’s provided he can get through you first.

sure, getting married to gojo satoru was not in your life plans. your mother had chosen a very apt timing to tempt you, quoting half a million dollars as the condition for getting and staying married to that gojo boy. and sure, she can do her best to try and haggle that money back from you once the both of you are done with today, but you’re guessing she’ll be facing much more important and pressing matters than simply getting money back from her defiant daughter.

“this is what we discussed, satoru,” you sigh, avoiding his question like he knew you would. “one year, that’s all we needed. and look where we are now.”

satoru smiles, pearly whites and bad boy charm. “i’d miss you in my bed at night though.”

you smack him playfully across his chest. he only chuckles lowly, fondly, his right hand on your head, brushing your hair. it almost makes you want to stay. but that wasn’t part of the deal, and you’re not sure that either you or satoru are ready for commitments.

“must’ve been some pretty good sex to make the gojo satoru miss me, huh?” you play along, pushing yourself away gently, your hand on his chest.

satoru tips your chin up with his finger, looking you in the eyes as he tells you, “babe, you’re the best pussy i’ve ever had.”

complete romantic, as you can tell. (you can’t stop his vulgar tongue even if you tried.)

“okay okay, stop stalling, satoru,” you chide him, holding your palm out, smiling as he takes it. “got the evidence?”

satoru holds a thick envelope out, grinning. “all here.”

the two of you stand outside the conference room for a minute, staring at each other. in another world, maybe you’d be in this hotel with gojo satoru where you’re actually married—for feelings rather than a transaction. in that other world, maybe you and gojo satoru were childhood sweethearts, the kind where you grew old without all the fucked up relationships that branded both of you too overwhelmed to be in a real one right now. hey, maybe in that world, maybe just maybe, that vow that gojo satoru had uttered on your wedding day (the same that you had uttered as well)—maybe he would’ve meant it.

you didn’t think you would come to like gojo satoru. it’s been a long time since you’d first met him. when you’d seen him stomping into the meeting room of your company’s office like he owned the place, like everyone there was beneath him. he’d gotten right under your skin then and there.

getting along was no easy feat. it took three months for the both of you to agree to live together. strangely it took just one night for you both to give in to temptation once you did start living together.

both of you are menaces—that’s what your mother would say.

somehow, somewhere, those feelings you thought you’d never feel before blossomed again. the kind of trust you didn’t think you’d ever give was given to satoru and you wonder if he even knows it. but satoru has never changed his stance on relationships since the first time you met him; they’re a waste of time.

“you know, if you wanna keep me, all you gotta do is say so.” satoru’s looking at you, that jester smile plastered on his face. you can’t see his beautiful eyes when it’s all crinkled up like that, but you thank god for that. you don’t know how you’d resist him if you could see them.

“dream on, satoru,” you deflect, and expertly. you’re great at hiding your real feelings like that. “our deal ends today.”

yeah, the deal the two of you made with each other, right when both families thought their children had made peace with their decision, or their fate, as they liked to call it. neither you nor gojo felt any affection for the family you grew up in, not when they’d never took interest in either of you as anything other than an heir. when both your childhoods were filled with extra readings and learning proper manners. when satoru grew up learning from his father that women were just a means to a child and you’d grown up learning from your mother that if a girl is not beautiful then she is not desirable. you remember how she almost disowned you for getting a scar on your face, even though it was only temporary.

she has a penchant for the overdramatics. you think today might be no different. you hope not. the entire aim of today is to bring about the crumble of two empires—gojo’s and your family’s.

to hell with their money and their dirty syndicates. it’s filthy money they have their hands full with, and frankly, you and satoru are done playing their pawns.

as satoru leads the way, you loop your arm around his elbow, watching as his father is taken completely off-guard when he watches his own son expose his schemes, watching as your own parents try to salvage the situation by saying how children these days would do anything to get out of their responsibilities.

they’re all walking ironies.

you both watch as the investors walk out one by one, outraged and disappointed. you watch as satoru’s own father vows to kill him, and you scoff as your own mother seconds his notion.

“not if the law gets you first,” you tell them, effectively shutting them up as they hear the police sirens in the air.

they spew about how the both of you are pieces of shit as they’re taken away, and you find you couldn’t care less. maybe it’s a little inhuman of you not to feel a thing when you watch your parents getting taken away in handcuffs. but then again, they’d never really treated you like a human either.

“here you go,” satoru chirps as the sirens drown into the background. he holds out another envelope, this one solely for you.

you smile, a melancholy washing over you as you take it from his hands and take the documents out, flipping to the last page where satoru has already signed.

“our divorce papers,” you coo, “how romantic.”

because gojo satoru is always a romantic.

he remembers your birthday and remembers your favourite cake. he remembers what you need when you’re upset, never makes you feel alone. he remembers how you like your eggs and purposely cooks them wrong all the time. he remembers how you take your coffee and always gives you tea. he remembers how you always nag at him for annoying you and then annoy you some more because for some reason you look very attractive when you’re angry.

it takes you a minute to sign your own name. it kind of feels lonely now, thinking how you’ll never go back to the same apartment as satoru. how you won’t see him sprawled out on the couch, pouting because you’re a little late for movie night. how you won’t catch him staring at your body as you get changed. how you won’t get to throw your pillows at him in the morning for tickling you in bed just to get you to wake up.

after all—you’d agreed; these affections were temporary like they were always meant to be.

you can’t help but find yourself wishing for more. but you were raised to be ruthless, not stupid. you won’t let satoru know of your feelings, because all your deductions say that nothing good will come of it.

“hmm,” satoru hums as he eyes your signature. “wouldn’t be opposed to a special arrange—”

“not gonna be your fuckbuddy, satoru,” you deadpan at him, flicking his forehead.

“why not?” he whines, and you nearly cave.

because you can’t risk falling further than you already have when there’s absolutely zero chance of satoru catching you.

“because there’s a long line of guys i wanna date and you should get in line first,” you lie, and satoru smirks like he’s caught on to something.

but if he has, he doesn’t say a thing, and that tells you everything you need to know.

“guess this is it then, l/n y/n?”

you don’t want it to be, but it has to.

“you made a great fake real husband, gojo satoru,” you tell him, shaking his hand.

kind of a lame goodbye for two people who had shared everyday together for the past year. but you think maybe this brief goodbye should suffice. you don’t want the flames to burn either of you blue.

gojo satoru doesn’t say another word when you turn to leave.

and you don’t turn to look back at him as you walk away.

some chapters of your life should come to a close. your chapter with gojo satoru should remain here, kept close in your heart, kept warm as memories should.

six months later.

“i just think you and i would be suited for other people.”

it’s funny, how everything never works out between you and other guys. you don’t recall it being so hard with satoru. perhaps he was truly made for you, like the heavens designed. but both of you were too similar, too afraid of commitment. nothing was going to come out of it anyway.

and maybe that’s why you miss it.

his fleeting glances, soft lips on tender skin and a pair of calm blue that never fails to mesmerise you.

satoru is the fleeting kind of romance that burns so bright in its prime and the kind you can never keep close. not when he isn’t willing to tone it down and when you don’t have the tolerance to match.

strangely, maybe that’s also why you’re still drawn to him. you’re still hoping that there will be a flaw in the design, that your seemingly parallel lines will intersect somehow. that maybe you won’t have to try and replace him with someone else.

“yeah, kento, i get it,” you tell nanami, sipping on your tea as you watch him get up and go.

you and nanami would not have worked out anyway. not when you’re way too fucked up and he’s comparibly normal. it would be too much for him. you would be too much for him. you stare at the tea in front of you. you kind of miss those dates satoru took you on; trespassing on private property and reliving youth in arcades.

satoru is everything—love, heartache, gambles, sins. both of you are spun from the same thread, and maybe you believe that if soulmates exist, you and him have the same red thread twirled around your pinkies.

though, the fact that he isn’t here simply proves you to be wrong.

last you’d heard, satoru was travelling the world, carefree and spreading his wings like you always knew he would.

you find yourself wishing that perhaps, somehow, you’d meet him again. but you sigh and get up, knowing you are far too old for this wishful thinking.

but where you’d thought that satoru was roaming, you forget that he’s much like a swallow. because now, when you turn around, you catch that same shade of ocean blue staring straight at you, the same white locks that obstructed your vision in the mornings.

the same satoru who’d learned of love through you and you alone. the same satoru who, even if he leaves, will always find his way back to you, no matter how much you try to deny and push him away.

satoru takes two steps forward before he pulls you towards him, his long arms coming around you and holding you tight.

this time, he’s not going to let you go.

“y/n,” he calls your name softly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “wanna give this another shot?”

[aurelion-solar]

HEARTSTEEL BIO & MEMBERS

HEARTSTEEL is a virtual pop group featuring reimagined versions of League of Legends champions Kayn, Ezreal, Sett, Yone, K’Sante, and Aphelios. A group of dynamic daredevils dedicated to unapologetic individuality and bold, creative expression, HEARTSTEEL is set to blaze a path to success on their own terms after each member's failed solo careers. The group’s personality and sound draws inspiration from modern music collectives, and a range of influences from across genres and eras, culminating in a bold and fearless one-of-a-kind identity. The band’s debut single, PARANOIA, pushes the boundaries of pop music with an eclectic infusion of hip hop and electronic influences and relentless, playful energy.

SETT is the founder and co-leader of HEARTSTEEL, who started the band after being dropped from his first label. Inspired by the bold, aggressive styles of hip-hop, Sett designed the group's outfits for the PARANOIA music video and collaborated with ØZI on his rap verse.

As HEARTSTEEL’s co-leader, K'SANTE uses his talents as a singer and creative director to shape the band’s vision. In collaboration with Tobi Lou, K’Sante’s emotionally-attuned lyricism draws inspiration from R&B and hip-hop.

EZREAL first rose to stardom through a manufactured bubblegum-pop hit. As part of HEARTSTEEL, he’s found new freedom in controlling what he creates. Collaborating with BAEKHYUN of EXO, this charming vocalist takes inspiration from his fans around the world.

KAYN is a wildcard, channeling his rebellious streak through Rhaast, his onstage alter-ego. Kicked out of his former band, the multi-genre rapper and instrumentalist leans into everything new and experimental. Collaborating with Cal Scruby, Kayn pushes the envelope wherever he is.

As HEARTSTEEL’s primary instrumentalist and lyricist, APHELIOS brings a quiet genius to the band’s songwriting and composition. Though he rarely speaks, his pursuit of musical perfection guides the group. With his array of instruments (and a little help from his twin sister Alune), Aphelios aims for new creative heights.

Once a producer on international pop hits, YONE grew disillusioned with the music industry’s idea of success. Now revitalized as part of HEARTSTEEL, Yone brings an analytical focus and sharp production skills to the band. His passion for electronic music and meticulous attention to detail shapes their sound.

[pictureday2005]