#what’s going on here. silver is ready to die for you and his father and you rarely acknowledge him at all

[milkstoner]

the fact malleus and lilia weren’t even there to witness silver’s heroic moment at the fairy gala is actually sickening… what were they so busy doing that they wouldn’t even bother to see their adoptive human put on a show AND a pacifist speech (HE EVEN ALLUDED TO LILIA) that undoubtedly improved fae-human relations. they would be so proud…

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲… || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ As a punishment for helping Coriolanus to cheat on the games, you’re sent to serve as a nurse in District 12 for the summer. He had to choose between Lucy Gray and you. He just needed a reason to pick you, luckily the songbird gave him one in time before you were gone. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ evil nurse!reader x peacekeeper!Coryo, very slight canon divergence, jealousy, sexism, stalking, nudity, reader is a little crazy and evil, you can’t trust her feelings, angst, beef with Lucy Gray (I <3 her irl), blowjob lol, buzzcut!Coryo fucks reader in the lake so MDNI 18+, this is so fucked up tbh. 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ reader is mentally unreliable. Song of course is liability, I know it won’t work, Will you cry? And buzzcut season lol. All in my playlist, It’s the worst and will disappoint you.

♪ ♫ The worst playlist 4 Coriolanus Snow ✰ Index (+ fics here)

____________________________________________

You’ve made big mistakes.

You accept it looking at the lake, ripping the delicate petals of a wildflower. Having to say goodbye to your summer vacations after graduation was fair. Your parents convinced Dr.Gaul to have some mercy on you. You wanted to die when they convinced her that you did it because you were a girl in love. You helped Coriolanus to find the aisle where the snake's tank was going to be picked up.

You were so in love that you only wanted to help your lover. Coriolanus was far from being your lover. You heard him countless times making fun of you. And you still helped him because your good heart wanted to see him winning the prize.

And what did you get? Serving as a nurse in the worst district for the whole summer.

It’s been two weeks. And the only good thing is the evening, where you like to kill time alone, in the silent woods. The moment to breathe and realize how naïve you had been. You deal with the damage Coriolanus had done to you. And the worst part is that he couldn’t care less. He only had eyes for his songbird after all.

And that’s what boiled your blood. That it was her and not you.

There’s already a little pile of dry flowers around you, from all the previous days you were at the same position as now. The days passed and you weren’t ready to let go. You needed to find a way to forget about him. “Damn it…” you whisper, cringing at all the memories, rage invading you, violently throwing the flower in your hands and wiping away the tears.

When you return to the medical aisle, you need to pass by the military camp. You were obviously a Capitol girl. Anyone with a golden watch and lip tint was. Since day one, many peacekeepers have asked you out. They wanted to spend the night with you. But you weren’t in the mood to lose your virginity yet. You were stressed, angry, embarrassed, but you tried to put your best face.

“Y/N! IS THAT YOU?” You turn confused. Only to find Sejanus Plinth. It genuinely made you smile seeing him.

“Sejanus? What are you doing here?” You ask for a hug. His hair had to be gone, he had the peacekeeper uniform. You were extremely confused.

“The real question is what are you doing here?” You roll your eyes.

“Coriolanus. He cheated on the games.” He sighs, nodding.

“I know. He’s here too.” Your eyes widen. He notices you are uncomfortable.

“Well, I helped him, and Dr. Gaul punished me to serve here for the summer” Sejanus seems surprised to hear it. He sees your nurse uniform, noticing the silver plaque attached in your chest. He knew women of the military with that plaque were on a higher range. In your case, probably because your father paid for you to have some commodities.

“At least you’re here” you add.

Sejanus knew you weren’t on good terms with Coryo. The boy asked for you on the train. But Sejanus hadn’t heard from you. Which apparently left Coriolanus slightly disappointed.

“Yeah. I’m here… we’ll have a good time. Promise” honestly, you were relieved to see him. But just by remembering that Coriolanus was also near you, it made you wish you were still alone.

“Any plans for tonight?” He asks, smiling.

You only had three friends. All girls from District 1 and 2. They were serving just because they were kind and wanted higher chances to get into University. They comforted you and Fridays were for two things. Going to the most famous bar, where Lucy Gray performed. Or going to a secret and elegant club for people with enough status.

“On downtown’s Main Street. A block to the left, the second alley. Tell the guy at the entrance you know me. Use my full name” your friend giggles, slowly moving away.

“You’re unbelievable” as you go back to your private room with your new friends. You can only think of how to avoid encountering Coriolanus for the rest of the summer.

It was enough for him. You wouldn’t even breathe near him. It was you, always offering subtle love. And he gave nothing back.

…

Lucy Gray was such a warm and sweet girl. Her dress with flowers and detailed boots added something to her performance.

Her voice was hypnotizing, her smile so pure and her hair so soft. It was the third night Coriolanus watched her perform. He smiled, drinking something. It was a humble bar, but the most famous one. He looked around looking for Sejanus. Last night he never appeared either. Coriolanus was growing worried, noticing his friend was starting to contemplate rebellious acts to help the people. Always trying to be the hero. As Lucy Gray finished her song, Sejanus appeared. A big smile on his face.

“Where have you been?” The blonde asked.

“You have to promise me you won’t freak out” Coriolanus rolled his eyes.

“Y/n was punished for helping you to cheat. Gaul sent her here to serve as a nurse for the summer.” His eyes almost popped out.

He had completely forgotten about you. He cringed, already expecting to have you all over him.

“Does she know I’m here?” Sejanus nodded.

“Yeah. She wasn’t happy when I mentioned you.” Coriolanus suddenly remembered that the last time he talked to you, you cursed him. You got mad after he didn't even offer a thank you for your help. Coriolanus realized at that moment that you hoped he would choose you over Lucy Gray. Which didn’t happen.

“She has access to the club reserved for high status military personnel. I won’t say this is bad but there is better…” he looks at his songbird. Everyone cheered for her, but…

Suddenly, Coriolanus doesn't like that Sejanus had spent last night partying with you.

“Take me there.” He says, looking at his friend.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. She stated very clearly that-“

“Sejanus… I need to see her. I won’t cause any disturbance.” After a minute of debating, Sejanus stands up and tilts his head, telling Coriolanus to get out of the bar.

It’s a fair distance. Coriolanus has no idea where he is going. Until the end of an alley seems to have some hallway that irradiates red lights.

“Here it is.” Sejanus points out.

There’s a man with a different peacekeeper uniform. He asks Sejanus who invited him.

Coriolanus hears your full name for the first time. He learns you have two names and two last names. At the Academy you only used one of each.

“How do you know her full name?” He asks Sejanus when the man lets them inside the place.

The red lights start changing, mixing with crystal chandeliers and velvet walls.

“Our parents have made some deals in the past.” Coriolanus wants to know more. He needs more details about how you ended up in the same place as him. He doesn’t think you also paid to change districts like him.

“Hey. Whatever you plan to say to her, apologize to her. She’s a girl a million would pay to have. She just wanted to help you, Coryo” he doesn’t know how to take Sejanus. He sure sounded like always, the friend trying to give advice. But he also sounded… like he was one of the millions who would pay to have you. Coriolanus didn’t feel pleased.

Finally, the place is crowded. And the people inside look different than the ones at the bar. These people looked very clean and elegant to be in District 12.

The music is live jazz, the smell of pure tobacco and laughs everywhere. Coriolanus feels like he fits there. And he promises to talk with Lucy Gray the next day. After he left the bar she would ask where he did go.

But for now, his eyes start searching for you. A man in a suit that looked very Capitol started talking. Daring all the beautiful women there to dance, promising to crown one as the star of the night.

He hears a group of females laughing. And when he spots the group, you are being pushed to the dance floor.

Since Sejanus is nowhere to be found, Coriolanus makes his way closer to you.

He sees your natural hair down and wavy. Cranberry lips and gentle purple eyeliner around your eyes. A simple mauve dress, and he almost chokes about it.

Tigris made that dress. You asked her one day at the Academy. If she could make a dress from elegant fabric. Tigris said that she didn’t have enough to make a full gown. You didn’t care, you just hoped she could do something.

Coriolanus remembered Tigris making the dress late one night. And he tolerated you even less for making his cousin work harder. That was long forgotten when you paid her and referenced her to work with a friend of your mother.

You looked totally different. Not the same annoying material girl he knew at the Capitol. This humble version of you was totally attractive to Coriolanus.

He couldn’t tell if you were dancing tap, swing or something else, but you were good at it. A couple of times, he heard you talking with Clemensia and Arachne, about your winter concert or rehearsals. Now, it was evident you were good at dancing.

You laugh and people cheer for you. Mostly men, which for some reason makes Coriolanus tense his jaw.

The mauve fabric shined disguised under the chandeliers, and maybe it was just the sight of seeing you happy, or the way the dress hugged your body. But it made him smile. For the first time, Coriolanus feels a positive feeling about seeing you. He wants to talk to you. But he isn’t sure what he’ll say. So he opts to just see you for the night. He can see a slight layer of sweat on your forehead after two songs have passed. The crowd seemed to want you to win. And it only makes you more eager to do so.

In your head, this was a big distraction. It was the only moment of the week where you felt happy and free. It makes you forget about your pending University admission and all the drama. About your silly actions and disappointments.

The way your friends cheer and joke about making a bet to see who’d win between you and the other girl left. You really are having fun.

Until the remaining girl surrenders. It feels great. Being crowned as the star of the night, leaving the dance floor with so much admiration and looking over you.

Coriolanus sees how you cheer with your friends. You laugh and he swore he had never seen you smile and laugh so much. Maybe you are a little tipsy. He can’t tell, but after some minutes, one of your friends leaves with a man. The other two stay drinking, and you say your goodbyes.

Your dark coat covers everything once you’re ready to leave. And Coriolanus knows he shouldn’t, but he does it anyway. He starts following you.

Internally, he claims he did it because he thought it wasn’t safe for you to go back to the medical aisle in the middle of the night.

It’s not a long way. And Coriolanus notices how close his bed is to yours, literally.

He feels like an animal, following his prey. Only that he doesn’t intend to hurt you. Not more than he already had.

His legs act by themselves it seems. He keeps venturing into the decent building. It’s lonely and dark. Coriolanus notices that probably many nurses were already sleeping. He sees you enter a room, and he memorizes the number. Seconds later, when he’s about to leave, you come out again. A towel in your hand…

It’s his cue to leave. He knows it’s enough. He never should have followed you. Not when he was supposed to be listening to Lucy Gray and The Covey. Not when he paid to serve in District 12 for Lucy Gray.

But it’s too late because he’s already poking his head, and when his eyes meet your body, your coat and dress are on the floor. In a bench near lays a simple but naughty red pair of panties. Coriolanus feels himself getting red at the sight of the underwear, just red, no details, just red. Red like his cheeks, you are naked, under the spray of the shower.

As you’re supposed to be a person he barely tolerates, Coriolanus hates himself for admitting how beautiful you were.

The water coats your body in a gorgeous way. He sees your hair become slightly darker and falls longer across your back.

The shower smells like some summer fruit and it’s all because of your silly shampoo. Coriolanus had seen it before at the Capitol, it was expensive.

Something changes as you massage your scalp, giving Coriolanus a view of your soft and pretty stomach. Your breasts and some moles that are visible are the death of the man. He shouldn’t want to hold your waist and help you clean your body. He shouldn’t want to kiss every birthmark and mole covering you.

It’s the first time he sees a woman naked.

That night, you happily go to bed, soothing the heat wave. Some weight falls from your shoulders. And for the first time, you feel like everything was meant to happen, and it’s okay.

For Coriolanus, he has to touch himself to forget about your naked silhouette haunting his dirty mind. And when he ends, he takes a cold shower and falls into the tiny uncomfortable lower bunk. Sejanus was snoring already, some bunks without a host, probably still at the bars or sleeping with a lover.

Coriolanus is ready to sleep and pretend nothing happens. He would go back to his soft songbird by the morning.

But it doesn’t work. He knows he’s so messed up. Because you are still there, and not only your naked body. Your natural hair, sweet lips and the way you smiled, danced and laughed are there too.

…

When the sun rose, it was imminent that it was going to be a hotter day. The summer in district 12 was bright. Full of light, and green from nature in the surrounding woods. That’s not necessarily the case in the medical aisle. You woke up at 5:00 am to start your shift. Your soft hands had been classifying medicines through shelves.

“Y/n” calls one of your friends from the entrance of the storage room. She giggles after seeing you on top of the stairs, holding onto your dear life.

“Need help?” You smile, shaking your head.

“I’m okay, thanks. What happened?”

“There’s a telegram for you at the mailbox” was unusual. Only your mother called once to see how you were doing. She was still very mad at you.

“Oh, okay. I’ll go now…” with that, you hop off the stairs and leave the little box with remaining bottles on a desk.

After a minute of going downstairs in the building, you get to the mailbox. You give your name to the elder woman in the office and she hands you a cream envelope.

Making a pause in the hallway full of lockers for peacekeepers waiting for mail you open your own.

[The head of the hospital has shared with us you’re doing an outstanding job. This is what we expect from you after your return to the Capitol. Keep going and we might pull some strings to get you back earlier.

Take care, dad.]

You smile. It was enough for you. The anger was undeniably lowering. And going back to the Capitol would make you very happy. Already contemplating the perfect lie. That you went to serve as a nurse for charity, for your kind heart. Everyone would believe you, and the girls would be jealous of your bravery. Nobody would know it was a punishment.

A punishment caused by the man you had just bumped into.

He picks you the open envelope and once he hands it, he sees you.

“Y/n…” you take the envelope from his hand, avoiding the touch.

“Coriolanus” with less makeup than two nights ago, you look even more beautiful he believes. The white nurse cap was so silly, but it was part of your uniform. But he can’t help but blush after remembering how the water fell across your body. And how he touched himself that night.

“I-…Sejanus told me you were here.” Your eyebrows rise, nodding with disinterest.

“Yeah, I’m here because of you.” He sighs, realizing that his friend was right, you were really disappointed to see him.

“This isn’t what I wanted for you.” You roll your eyes. Already sick of wasting your time for him. You had been so scared to encounter him one day. But that you had him facing you, you couldn’t care less.

“Of course. Because you couldn’t care less about me…” he wants to say he actually cares. But the truth is, that before the night he saw you at the bar, he didn’t even remember you. But now, it was like you had put on a spell on him, making him want to know everything about you.

“Just stay away from sight of view and everything is going to be okay” he was shocked to hear you talk to him with much indifference. He was used to your sweet voice, asking him every morning how he was doing at the entrance of the classroom.

You were always at his feet. Helping him and doing everything so he would look down at you. And now, he actually was looking up, seeing how you went upstairs again. And he would do exactly the opposite of what you asked.

He would be everywhere if it meant seeing you again.

…

The bittersweet feeling of seeing Coriolanus stayed the whole afternoon until you finished your shift at 6:00pm. The heat was barely tolerable when the sun was almost gone. You went to the market, as you had promised to cook dinner for the girls that night.

The vegetables were fresh and there was a lot to pick. You carried a little basket filled with carrots, some potatoes and a piece of raw meat carefully folded. You were looking at some pair of earrings. They were handmade. With blue feathers and some tiny pieces of quartz. You smiled looking at them. When you were about to tell the little girl who was selling them, you felt very deep looks. And when you turn to the left, there is Lucy Gray and some of her friends from the band. She was sixteen, you were almost nineteen, you couldn’t pick a fight with her. She could hate you for being Capitol, for being such a bad mentor at the games. But maybe she didn’t knew that thanks to you she was alive. And the most important, she couldn’t hate you because of a man.

Before you can even feel awkward, you had already left the earrings and walked towards the girl.

“Is there anything I did to upset you, Lucy Gray? Because as far as I know we don’t know each other” that was the truth. You had your own motives to dislike her. But you hadn’t even turned to look at her. Unlike the songbird, who didn’t have a problem showing her disapproval of you with her face.

“Did you follow him here too?” You smiled. You didn’t know what Coriolanus had told her, or what she suggested on her own. Based on what happened, probably Lucy Gray believed you were the crazy stalker who couldn’t let go of Coriolanus Snow and his unrequited feelings for you.

“No. I was already here weeks before he arrived.” You simply answer her by looking at the notebooks in the table beside you. Lucy Gray couldn’t be jealous, but she had a bad omen about you.

“I was blinded by him once, just like you now. I helped him so you could win. Hoped he could choose me. And it wasn’t enough. He’s not the boy you think he is, Lucy Gray. You don’t know him like I do. But you can rest knowing I won’t lift a finger to make him notice me anymore” she seems surprised by your answer. But there’s no time for her to throw a rebuttal because you’re gone. Her friends gossip without her, saying how mean you were.

And Coriolanus had seen everything from a hidden corner. He was looking for Lucy Gray, already growing confused. Your words had gotten deep into his mind. While Lucy Gray was the sweetest girl he ever met, she also confused him. She had a rebellious side that he didn’t like. And you, he knew he would never be able to control you now, but he knew you would easily do the same things he did to win.

He stayed far, letting Lucy Gray to pass by with her friends. And when she was gone, out of the market, he came out.

He grabbed the same earrings you were looking at before.

…

It’s another night at the private bar. This time you know Coriolanus is there. He had the audacity to bring Lucy Gray. And you wonder if it was a good idea to tell Sejanus about the bar. Her green dress didn’t match the bar style. However, you ignore them as soon as your friends tell you they befriended a high standard peacekeeper. He had some handsome friends and they made you completely forget about Coriolanus and her songbird. You grew invested in the conversation with the men and your friends, even when one of girls makes fun of Lucy Gray and her visit to the secret bar.

Coriolanus keeps painfully turning to look at your way. He wants to go and get you out of the bar. But he already had a girl beside him. A much younger and innocent one. His anger escalates when a man takes you out to dance. You giggle as he says something in your ear. You had a pretty ruffled pink dress. Red lipstick and matching shoes.

“She looks happy…” Lucy Gray says, also looking at you.

“She isn’t happy. And that’s just an idiot” he spits pointing at the handsome peacekeeper dancing with you. He shouldn’t have said that, especially in front of Lucy Gray. But the way the man twisted you like a piece of the softest fabric, and the way he singed for you, it was taking over him.

It’s his hands that should be holding your hips. It’s his voice that should be making you dance. But Lucy Gray grabs his chin and offers him a sweet smile that makes him get lost on her brown eyes. She’s too good for him.

As he kisses her, he still feels the anger. Cause’ it should be you.

…

The roles had switched up. Coriolanus was infatuated by you. And now, you ignored him as if you never ever thought he was the love of your life.

Maybe is his hair, now short. Or maybe it is that deep sight he always has on you. The sweet boy that didn’t look on your way was gone.

As the days passed, you could feel the air changing. Telling you that your punishment would soon be over.

You flip through the pages, tons of files in the racks perfectly accommodated in the room. You read about all the frauds and corruption of the hospital and the military aisle. Enough to make you a dangerous target. So as soon as the headmistress nurse knows you have a long secret file in your memory, he gives you easy jobs.

And the dirty ones too.

Coriolanus follows you. Thought the archives rooms to the cold storage. He sees how there’s a tray ready to go. Some needles ready to pinch someone. And then you are changing the yellow liquid inside the injections, your face mask covering the small grin on your face. It makes him slightly shocked. He didn’t think you would be capable of doing such a thing. Some rumors flew across the militar camp. About a deal, between the heads of the hospital and the camp. Where they would secretly get rid of sick people from the district to stop wasting expensive medicines and other products.

But you hand the tray with an innocent smile.

And he grows worried. He can’t believe it, but he fears you could end up dead because of your little tricks. You leave early. So, he gains some confidence to follow you. He needs answers. He’s tired of following you to beg for your attention. It’s his lucky day that you chose to take the little trail that crossed the resting cabins of the peacekeepers. You walk past his cabin and his brain makes him walk faster, grab your forearm and push you inside it.

“What the hell?” You ask, startled. Looking at Coriolanus in shock.

The bunks are empty. Everyone is out.

“What were you doing? Switching the shots? You could get hanged or something else!” Suddenly you’re confused, questioning why he was caring now.

“There’s a lot more going on in the hospital than you could ever know, Coriolanus.” He understands it. And he isn’t surprised after all. Injustice happened everywhere.

But he wouldn’t easily let go.

“You could still get in trouble. Who’s making you do this?” You sigh frustrated, shrugging.

“Why do you care so much? Why can’t you leave me alone for once?” As you raise your voice, he grows impatient.

“I DO CARE ABOUT YOU!” Your silence makes him step closer.

“Seeing you dancing with that man, how he grabbed you, it boiled my blood.” Suddenly you feel nervous about his proximity.

And the cheeky asshole decided to step even closer.

“That shouldn’t be a problem for you” you do your best to keep the visual contact. But the way he’s looking at you is making it difficult. Especially after his lips are literally brushing your cheekbone.

“You are the one I desire.” He smashes his lips with yours. Honestly, you believe him. But it isn’t enough to make your heartbeats for him.

“Did you let that man touch you after you left?” You giggle, letting him wander under your nurse apron.

“My virginity is part of my pride and dignity” you answer, kissing his neck, letting his sneaky hands touch you everywhere. His right hand gropes your breast and the other is trying to hold the fat of your hip and ass like a starved man.

Your brain can’t work for some minutes. But you kiss him back. You decide he wouldn’t puppet you. Never again.

As he devours your lips, confirming you gave the softest kisses, yet passionate. You push him gently towards a random bed. And slowly, you get on your knees, dropping your nurse cap and navy blue cape to the floor.

Coriolanus is officially in shock as you drop his belt to the floor.

When he least expects it, you are already licking the tip of his cock. You make a wet mess of him. His head drops back, letting you do whatever you want.

He’s in heaven. Of course, you weren’t the most experienced but to be a virgin, you were quite an addictive lover.

In your head, you just can think about giving him pleasure. Your twisted plan would be effective as soon as he exploded. You put much effort in sucking and licking every vein of him. His length did not disappoint, and you mentally cursed as you realized he could’ve been your first time.

Coriolanus knows damn well it is over for him when his eyes meet yours. His tip met the back of your throat, and he ended up spilling his hot seed inside your mouth. You show him your tongue, covered in white, only to swallow everything. He gulps, feeling the remaining spasms of his orgasm.

“You’ll be the death of me…” he admits, taking a long breath.

As for you, you know it’s just a matter of time. If Coriolanus was so invested in making you look at him now, you would give him more reasons until he broke and admitted he couldn’t live without you.

So you clean your messy lipstick. Your nurse cap and navy cape perfectly in place and you look gorgeous in a mirror near the door.

“If anyone asks where I was, you say I went to drop some letters.” After that you don’t nothing else. He tucks himself inside his pants and stands quickly.

“Wait-” but you had already left.

…

In the night, Coriolanus starts looking out for Sejanus. He was going to ask if he wanted to go to the bar to see Lucy Gray. But he couldn’t find him. He feels his forehead sweating even in the middle of the night.

Near a little training center, he hears two recognizable voices. And when he turns into a little hallway, he sees you arguing with Sejanus.

“No, I’m not defending the Capitol, but these people are not worth risking your life, Sejanus” it’s the first thing he hears from you.

“They deserve better luck, y/n. Something we were born with.” Coriolanus sees you huffing, arms crossed as the slight wind makes your uniform cape lift.

“What’s going on?…” the blonde asks. You turn and sigh, expecting Sejanus to explain. You like to think Coriolanus would make Sejanus to think clearly. Like he did before.

There’s only silence.

“You won't tell him? I will…” you turn to Coriolanus. He can feel you are angry; you disapprove whatever it was happening with Sejanus.

“He’s helping some rebels.” Sejanus only looks down.

“They’re not rebels.”

“Well, they’re definitely not on the right track. And helping them will only lead to trouble.”

“Why are you doing this?” Coriolanus joins. He sounds tired, immediately remembering how he had to literally fight in the Hunger Games to save him.

“They are suffering. They don’t have anyone.” Sejanus replies.

“If you weren’t helping them, they would put a bullet in your head before you could even blink. They are not worth risking your life, Sejanus. I don’t want to see you hanged.”

“I appreciate your worries, y/n. I really do. But this is the least I can do after all the things my parents have aligned for me.” Your eyes water. Even after all the horrible you have done at the Capitol, as a nurse, you cared for Sejanus and Coriolanus. You might have been playing a game of manipulation with Coriolanus, but if he ended up in a mess that threatened his life, you would fear. The same for Sejanus.

“Sejanus��” Coriolanus felt slightly bad after seeing you at the verge of tears. He knew behind that new mask of indifference you were very soft.

“If something happens to you, I’m gonna live mad at you for the rest of my life. Life made us end up here for him…” you say pointing at Coriolanus.

And it’s true, you were sent to the 12 for punishment. Sejanus literally followed him just because.

“That’s enough penitence.” Feeling the tears flow, you start walking away.

Sejanus also feels wrong. But he’s confident. Both men stare at you, and different thoughts run through their heads.

“If anything happens, Coryo… Take good care of her.” Coriolanus looks at his friend.

He thinks you deserve more. He finally accepts there’s more to win by your side rather than following the songbird. Yet, he couldn’t push away Lucy Gray yet.

“I’ll take care of her, Sejanus.”

…

You don’t see the boys for the next two days. Until the night. When for emergency protocol you had to work. A fight in the bar caused some injuries to many men. So, there you are at 1:00 am sending gazes and bottles of alcohol. And when you are about to clean your own space, after a knock on your door, you see Coriolanus and Lucy Gray.

Unbelievable.

“What happened?” You ask as soon as you see him properly. The tray on your hands falls to the ground, making a loud sound. There’s blood on his face, a dark splotch on the right side of his nose. Beside him is Lucy Gray. Wearing one her bohemian dresses with her rural touch of always. You go to inspect his face.

“Got into a fight.” Coriolanus explains. You frown, thinking that is very ignorant and low. Completely disappointed of him for joining the cause.

“You got into the fight? Why?” He sighs, and Lucy Gray only huffs, helping him to sit on a bench. You ignore her, proceeding to take some cotton and equipment to stitch the little wound on his cheekbone. Your fingers are cold, and make him squirm as soon as they touch him.

“Some guy. He got violent after harassing her” of course it had to be for Lucy Gray all the commotion. Everything makes sense, the fight at the bar you listened to less than an hour ago. The songbird must’ve performed, and someone made a mess.

You can’t feel bad for her. While half of the district loved her, there was a considerable amount of people who disliked her, rumors saying she carried problems wherever she went.

“Hmm.” you have a lot to say, but you won’t spit everything at once. Coriolanus sighed, pretending it was because the alcohol was touching his skin, but it was because you weren’t pleased.

Even in his exile, he was between two women again. And while he couldn’t push away Lucy Gray, he couldn’t let you go too.

“Can you give us a moment, Lucy Gray?” he asks calmly. And maybe her reaction wasn’t meant to, but she showed that it made her uncomfortable.

“Sure. I’ll wait outside…” awkwardly she made a smile to the man seated in front of you and left.

Silence took over. You continued to clean the wound, and his deep blue eyes were locked on your face.

Finally, he was able to see your real beauty. Bare amounts of makeup. Hair down and short nails. No crazy looks, ridiculous hairstyles and cat nails. This was the real you.

“I didn’t start the fight…” he started.

“But of course, it had to be for her.” you finish for him. Again, he sighs, trying to avoid any possible irritation.

“It wasn’t her fault what happened.”

“Oh my god. Just listen to yourself! … Everything is her fault!” You burst after finishing with the needle.

“Why do you hate her so much?” He asks irritatedly, shrugging and expecting you to answer soon.

“I don’t hate her. I couldn’t care less for that poor girl. But she’s the reason why you got so obsessed with winning the damn prize. She’s the reason why you cheated and she’s the reason why you’re exiled, and I’m punished” he knows it’s true. In a matter of weeks, Coriolanus repeatedly questioned why Lucy Gray. And until two weeks ago, when he started questioning why not you.

Coriolanus smirks. Finding a way to evade a deeper conversation. He wasn't ready for the time to come where he had to decide. Lucy Gray or you.

“You sound like you’re jealous” he actually thought you would deny it.

“Of course it makes me jealous, Coriolanus!”

His smile fades away. You curse under your breath, moving aside to pick up the nursing equipment. There was no way back, and you wouldn’t lie.

“Ever since I met you, I wanted you to like me. And all I received were mean looks and judgmental jokes. About my hair, my lipstick, my dress, everything” you admit, sounding a little hurt.

“And this girl comes, and in less than two months she has you doing the impossible for her” you mumble. Coriolanus was never the romantic type. He was a man of few words and very analytical. He wasn’t a fan of the districts, so you wondered what could possibly be the reason for him to get obsessed with the songbird.

“Do you love her?” For you, it was a simple question. You always faced your feelings. But for Coriolanus, he tended to avoid his feelings.

He looked at the ground, at your boots before looking up at you.

“Why are you making this so complicated?” He asks, in hopes to avoid the real question.

“You won’t have both girls, Coriolanus.” When you come back at him, he stares directly at his view, at your waist. He focuses on the details of the grey and white fabric decorating you. There’s a tiny spot of blood near your breast, and some dirt near where he thought it was your belly button.

For sure, he knows he won’t have both girls.

“And as much as she tries to make you fit in. You don’t belong here. You and I were educated to live in The Capitol.” He’s well aware that with Lucy Gray, he would be pursuing a humble peaceful life. With you, he would be pursuing a luxurious and firm life.

The harder you are pushing his buttons, the harder you’re manipulating him. You trace his chin and neck, fingers grasping his silver chain. And you know he’s getting soft, vulnerable for your touch.

Maybe he changed his perspective of you after seeing you dance. After seeing you naked in the showers. After realising the type of woman you were.

“I would love to see when realization hits you. You’ll see that she only used you. You’ll notice that I was on your side and could’ve been for the rest of my life” his jaw tenses. He looks you in the eye again. You smile, thumb on his lower lip.

“And pretend as much as you can, selling me that face of I don’t care about you. But I know you do; you’re just blinded by the songbird. Count the days till she uses her singing against you. It’ll be too late.”

He hates losing, missing things. And you know it.

“She makes me want to be someone better.” His best attempt to soothe you makes you laugh.

“The summer will be over, and I’ll leave. She won’t inspire you to grow. She will make you lay still. I’ll be at the top of the Capitol again. And you couldn’t make your house rise…” that hit him in his pride. The fact that your words were true. He thought about Tigris and his grandmother. They deserved better.

“I want you to be someone better. And yet, you’re here. Without the prize, without being home. Just picture it… Where would you be if you had chosen me?” He really wanted to choose you. He just needed a fucking reason. But once again, you have disappeared.

…

He cared. But he cared more for himself.

That doesn't make him feel better though. He had doomed Sejanus Plinth by recording his words.

He couldn’t sleep, knowing that anything could happen the following morning. He has a tiny brown bag in his hand, clutched as if it was made of pure gold. He can’t wait, and he can’t sleep. So, he sneaks out of the camp and goes to your room. He needed to see you, he needed to choose you. That would mean leaving. Concentrating on you and his family. Pursuing the Capitol’s type of future, away from the country life.

Your friends were about to leave to go to the secret bar. And they tell him you were gone to the lake. It makes him realize how much you had to be overthinking. Just by seeing you, anyone could tell you weren’t from the districts. Spending the night in the lake wasn’t pleasant at all. With animals, mosquitoes, and the humid heat of the woods.

But he walks in the darkness. Hearing some crickets and frogs that guide him to the little visible light at the end of the trial. The more he walks towards it, the more he can distinguish you.

There you are sitting over a blanket. Reading a book, wearing a long pastel nightgown. The sight makes him smile.

He steps over a branch and makes you turn worried. But as soon as you spot him, you sigh, closing the book.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“I could ask the same question. It’s nearly midnight.” He sits beside you on the blanket, you only shrug, facing away from him, looking at the barely noticeable reflect of the lake under the moon.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither” there’s a lot of things he wants to say, you want to scream it too.

“I wanted to give you this…” he hands you the brown bag. Frowning, you take it, your fingers brushing his, but you opt to ignore it.

When you dig your hands inside, you feel something soft. And when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but cheekily smile.

It’s the feather earrings you wanted at the market. He probably collected the least he could to pay for them. Or maybe he traded something. It’s uncertain, but you can’t deny it warmed your heart a little.

“You saw me?” He nods, watching how you cautiously caressed the pair.

“Then you must’ve heard me too…” Coriolanus heard it. But he would pretend the opposite. Just to avoid the question.

“I didn’t. I was passing by when you were looking at them. What happened?” You tilt your head, putting the earrings on.

“Your songbird is jealous of me… Does she know about the good time we had the other day?” He blushes, closing his eyes out of embarrassment.

“How do I look?” When he opens his eyes, he sees you have the earrings on. The blue feathers looked very outstanding in the middle of the dark. The light you brought did not make any justice to the beauty of your face. Barely highlighting your eyes and lips.

“You look beautiful…” there’s something on your mind. You want to ask so badly. And while you could pry about his thoughts of your new appearance, you don’t. Your voice slightly trembling as you start speaking.

“Did you and Sejanus have anything to do with the death of the daughter of the mayor and the boyfriend?” He closes his eyes.

“No.”

“Coriolanus Snow… Do not lie to me.” his arms come to rest on his bent knees. And you know the truth through his breathing.

“Sejanus went too far. I wanted to keep him alive” you sigh, feeling already stressed. Panic invades you, fearing for both boys.

“What if this is just what you two needed to end up in real trouble?” He looks at you, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He wanted a hug from you. He wanted you to love him like he knew you did during the Academy days. Just to feel some sense of normality. That this isn’t what his life turned out to…

“What if he gets killed. What if you get killed?”

“It won’t happen. It’ll be okay” your nails were going to suffer from anxiety. But he places a hand on your bare shoulder, calming you.

“Why can’t you give me a rest, Coriolanus?” He knows what you mean, and it makes his heart grow soft.

“Honestly. Before the games I barely tolerated you. But after seeing you here and everything that happened, you’re right. I can’t have both girls.” It makes you weak.

“What made you look at me? Why now?” He sighs.

Firstly, it was pure lust, your body. But at this point, he knew he could potentially end up alone. And he refused to let go of the person he had won since the beginning.

“Because I wasn't able to appreciate that I had you. And… I don’t want to be alone.” You nod, analyzing his words.

“But you have her. Since when is she not enough?” Coriolanus had to accept how analytical you were. He can be honest and be in peace with you or lie and keep fighting for you.

“I don’t think she’s ever been enough. We don’t have much in common. Just that we are orphans… if she never came along… I swear I know I would have ended up by your side.” You think you understand him. He just realized what he lost. And now he was trapped to decide. However, you were not going to give your heart again. Only time or a life-or-death situation would make you admit you still loved him.

“I said it before, I’ll repeat it again. I won’t be here forever…” he leaned closer. His hand caressing your chin, appreciating how soft your skin was. He wanted to crown your head with flowers and promise he was yours. Just not yet.

“I know…” his nose brushes yours, the tension grows and this time, you are the one closing distance to kiss him. You are so close to winning, to have him begging for you.

That night, he keeps kissing you, you read him your book for a bit and before realising it, both of you end up sleeping on the blanket.

In the morning, he finds you undressing to take a quick splash in the lake.

When you realize he’s awake, you smile at him.

“Morning…” like a slow striptease, you let the nightgown fall and he just stares at your body with the first rays of sun illuminating you.

“I don’t think this is a dream. Right?” You chuckle before your body disappears under the water.

It’s the perfect invitation. He joins you, and the first minutes of his morning are spent kissing you. Only to end up in the same blanket both of you slept on. With him on top of you.

“Tell me to stop now.” He says in your mouth. Your leg slowly slides through his ankle, sending shivers through his spine.

“I think it’s too late for that.”

He returns you the favor. His head between your legs is the most erotic thing he’s ever heard or seen in his life. It’s so dirty, eating you out in the middle of the wild. You taste better than expected, and it feels simple, even natural to please you. He can see how your back arches when his nose gently touches your clit. He feels so proud, and he can already see how well you two could handle being lovers. He remembers how you sucked his cock and how good you did it.

To you, you felt some insecurity, because he hadn’t decided on you. But you already feel the lead being on your side. Soon that thought fades away, because the pleasure is becoming too much. And you’re ready to receive the upcoming orgasm.

You forget about Lucy Gray, Sejanus, the deaths, your return to the Capitol.

Everything is gone as soon as you feel him. Even the pride and dignity you talked about on losing your virginity.

It just feels like it was meant to be.

“You’re so perfect…” he says, eyes on your stretch marks, fingers tracing them before moving towards north and pinching your nipples.

The way you clench around him, his lips leaving red marks on your breasts that would soon turn purple. Your moans, and your dirty mouth cursing.

“Fuck- oh, Coryo!” He couldn’t believe you just cursed. But he then realized he was fucking you. Maybe he had already chosen.

“More, please-“ you manage to say between moans. And he’s in heaven again. He fucks you harder, faster, already feeling he was close too. The silver chain dangling just in front of your face. You swear he had split you in half, but the pain was nothing compared to pleasure.

“Wait for me. We’ll do it together” you nod, noticing how intimate and passionate your first time was being. He wanted you to wait for him. And it made your heart clench. You need to hold him. So, your arms hug him, and he understands, leaning to end up with your foreheads together.

In a matter of seconds, you both reach climax.

“Promise me you’ll be careful” he nods, kissing you one last time.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

But it isn’t. You run as soon as your friends say Sejanus Plinth was going to be hanged for treason. You run and your feet burn.

When you make it, you have to hear him screaming for Coriolanus. You start reaching the front faster. But you meet his blue eyes, and you are able to see him saying no to you. Your heart beats fast, sweat on your forehead and eyes watering faster than ever.

When you look at Sejanus again, his neck broke and he was already hanging.

Coriolanus sees the shock and terror on your face. The birds flying and repeating the last words of Sejanus make it worse. He holds the rifle firmly, but his eyes water too.

He follows you as soon as he’s able to leave. Too many things happening at the same time. And he really regrets not noticing you before. None of his life would’ve been ruined.

He finds you alone in your room. Your friends were working. But you were crying on the floor, covering your face and sobbing loudly. His heart broke, and he let some tears fall too. So he couldn’t resist it anymore. He went to hug you tightly.

As soon as you felt him, you hugged him back.

“He deserved better…” you mumble between sobs. You say he was a good man. But soon your sobs stop, and Coriolanus can almost hear you plotting.

“Where is the gun you used, Coriolanus?” His heart stops, and that’s his epiphany.

“I don’t know. Lucy Gray must know…” the girl could easily be fast to learn where it was. You remain silent.

After some minutes of crying, he’s still holding your hands.

“Lucy Gray wants me to go with her outside of the districts…” you don’t have the strength to laugh, but you really wanted to.

“One last time. Do you love her, Coriolanus?” He knows it’s time and there’s no going back. So he sighs, feelings the dry tears on his face.

“No.”

Your soul can finally rest.

“In two days, I’m leaving. I got accepted by Gaul into University. I just learned this morning after receiving mail.” He looks deep at your eyes. Trying to understand what you just said.

“Then you are going with Lucy Gray. You find the gun and if needed… Also get rid of her” you knew Lucy Gray was there when the incident happened. You had also made up your mind. And you would give Coriolanus one last chance.

“I’ll wait for you for two days. If you come back, you know I’ll be yours. But if you decide to stay with her, I’ll understand. And your secret will die with me.” He feels you kiss his cheek and after that, you quietly leave. Giving him no choice but to pack to meet Lucy Gray at the Hanging Tree.

…

You wait impatiently for your train. Coriolanus was gone. He didn’t return. So, you wait with your heart full of fissures. Your violet dress makes you a target among the station. You look very Capitol again. But something from District 12 changed you.

And then you hear him. Calling your name.

When you turn, you see Coriolanus almost running towards you. You can feel some tears forming. Your messed up mind was ignoring all the hell he made you feel and see. Like he never killed anyone, like he didn’t take so long to choose you. Like you didn’t know he consciously chose to be a bad person.

He looks agitated, with his peacekeeper uniform intact. His blue eyes look thrilled. Like a lot of emotions were invading him at the same time.

And the first thing he does when he’s in front of you, is to smash his lips with yours.

It takes you by surprise. The way his free hand immediately goes to your chin. In the middle of the train station. Feels like you were meeting your lover who survived war. It feels wrong to be savoring the moment you realize Coriolanus Snow finally chose you.

At that very moment you tangle your arms around his neck, stepping on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He feels you smiling, and that’s all he needed.

He needed to kiss you to forget about the cabin, the birds, the gun and Lucy Gray Baird.

And he does, your lips assuring him it was okay.

He isn’t evil, he can’t be when a sweet woman like you was kissing him back.

It was delicate for sure.

“Is it over?” You ask between tears. He nods, smiling, holding you close to him.

“Everything is over now.” You won’t ask what happened. You will just savor the victory.

“I can go to the Capitol. Gaul wants to see me” your eyes shine, relief flowing across you. Knowing you will be able to go back home with him.

“Where does this leave us?” He chuckles.

“We’re marrying as soon as we make it to District 2, dear” he kisses you to soothe your shock.

Almost at the end of the ride on the train, you chuckle looking at the window. He looks with curiosity, still drooling over you wearing the earrings he gave you. They would be his reminder that you had been there since the beginning, when he had nothing to offer. And yet, you stayed.

“What?” He finally asks.

“We’re a liability, you know?” A smile forms on his face. He shouldn’t be smiling, but he does anyways.

“I would repeat everything if it meant ending up here with you” and it was true. Because he would receive the money from the Plinth family, he would be able to study from Gaul, with you. He would get rid of Highbottom, and anyone on his way. But what seemed to be the most urgent matter, was to make you his wife.

But for now, he just takes your hand, kissing it.

….

Soft!Coriolanus fic is next. Hint? It’s gonna be based on Supercut from Lorde. Thanks to my crush with Tom Blyth, I realized Reputation and Melodrama are my favorite albums on earth. If you want to be tagged on the next fic, comment!!!!!!!! <3.

Taglist: @peachyharht @toogardenheart @slytherinholland @futurecorps3 @asapkyndall @speedycashflowerbasketball

[yuyu1024]

Prisoner

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, unprotected sex, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kinks, Smoking [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3.0k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 🫶🏻

Check pinned post for more

***

The sound of the wedding bells and the people cheering for your union are still ringing in your ears. You could also still envision your friends and families' warmest smiles and tearful hugs as they congratulate you. Everyone is so happy. They kept on saying that your wedding is the most magical and happiest they've ever seen.

Yes. Your wedding is the grand. The whole castle like church is filled with the whitest flowers that gives an illusion of the place is floating in clouds. You could also see shiniest silvers and krystals all over the place. It felt unreal.

You requested for a simple wedding but you are given more than that and you love it.

The wedding is also filled with people you both love and cherish. So you feel comfortable and loved all through out the ceremony and the party afterwards.

Yes. The wedding is amazing.

Yes. The wedding is to die for.

Yes. The wedding is like a fantasy.

It's because it is... it is a fantasy and no where near reality.

It is only for show to make people believe that you and the man you married is real.

Little did everyone know, your marriage is just arranged. You were just handpicked by the groom because he had no other option. He didn't like the women his parents are suggesting. So he decided to himself to pick someone from the ground and carry to his world. A world filled with darkness and resentment. A very, very, very cold world.

"Miss..." a voice echoes waking you up from your daydream

You slowly open your eyes to see the barely lit room that you are still in. You get up from leaning onto the edge of the bathtub and see your personal maid near the door. Her head lowered not making eye contact with you. She's holding your towel and bathrobe.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But Master asked for dinner to be served soon...he's on his way home."

You look down at your hands peeking from the warm milky water and then pick up the rose petals floating on it. "He's early today..." you mumble quietly

"I heard that the meeting with his father, Mr. Min finished early..."

"I wonder why..." you got up from the bath. She immidiately rush towards you, handing you the towel and bathrobe to use.

"Mr. Min told Master to go home early... because of you Miss..."

"Ah... really..." there is no hint of excitement in your voice. "You can leave now and help them prepare... I'll get ready myself..." you tell the maid, who is still not having any eye contact with you.

You don't sound happy nor sad. Actually, you do sound like a robot with no feelings when you talk.

You were not like this before. Yes you are a quiet person, an introvert and reserved but never like this. You changed quite a lot after getting married. It's not by choice. You just have to adapt with your surroundings.

Living in a big ass mansion with more than fifty staffs and bodyguards but no one to talk to. You have no one to spend your time but yourself. Your world became, quiet.

Yes you do have a husband. You married him. But the man is never home most of the time. And when he is, he does not even make conversations with you unless it's related to his parents; asking you to do this and that. To be present here and there. Telling you what to say and not to talk about. Basically, he only talks to you when its about your deal. Yes, deal.

Funny isn't? You married bound by a contract but that's it. Just by contract. No love is involved.

You know this since the beginning. You signed the marriage certificate plus the contract. You are aware. But you never thought that this will be the kind of life you will have. Alone. But what choice do you have? He offered your parents a huge amount of money for your hands. A money that could let them live a good life even when they retire early. That's how big it is.

And you agreed to it, not because of the money, but because you thought; that maybe, just maybe this is the universe's doing. Him and you meeting under this circumstances but then in the end, getting to know each other and that Maybe...... maybe learn to love each other. But you're wrong. You and Yoongi have been married for more than a year now and its already had taken a toll on you emotionally and physically.

"Miss... Master is just a few minutes away..."

You pause brushing your hair, staring at yourself through the full body mirror. You are wearing the plain black, fitted halter dress that you received as a gift from him. You like this dress because it emphasizes your figure and shows off a little skin because of the slit. He gifted you this dress during your honeymoon. It's probably the cheapest clothing you have in your closet but for you this is the most valuable.

"Do you want me to fix your hair, Miss?"

You put down your hair brush. "No thank you."

Then you sit down and start to put on your shoes. But instead of heels, you put your white canvas shoes.

"Ahm, no heels today, Miss?" She sounds a bit concern

"No." You stand up to look at yourself one last time before going. "My feet hurts so I'll wear something comfy for now..."

"I understand." She hurriedly puts down the heels she had on hand and runs after me.

It is true that your feet is hurting. You've been wearing heels everyday when you go to work. 'Work' meaning is socializing with your husband's family friends and circle. You represent him for charities and parties he can't and won't attend. It's not everyday but these past few weeks, you've been busy. You were away too most of the days of the week. That's why you also barely saw your husband. He's been away for a week and when he came back you got busy too. And tonight, this is the first time you'll be eating dinner with him.

"Tell him to reschedule... I won't be available tomorrow. I have other plans."

You hear him talking to the phone when you enter the dinning room. He's so focused that he didn't even bat an eye when you sit down across him.

"What do you prefer, Miss?" The male servant asks. "We have tender lamb chops braised in wine. Served with pea puree and then wild sea bass with sautéed smoked bacon, red chicory, runner beans and red wine sauce."

"The latter, please..." You try to give a smile to show appreciation but then you halt as you hear your husband slam his phone on the table. It starlted you a bit.

And also, up to now he still hasn't dared to look at you. He just went on to eating his lamb after his phone call.

You want to watch him eat or even glance at him every now and then, just so you could update his image from your memory. You just want to see him, Even just a tiny bit silhouette of his face behind the boquet of flowers between the two of you.

'Fuck.' You curse in your mind.

You always ask yourself why do you even bother wanting to see him or make conversation with him when you know you don't mean anything to him. For him, you are just one of his staff. The only difference is that he talks to about life when he wants to because its part of your business with him. And to add to that, you're only his 'woman' when he needs to release stress. Meaning you two have sex when he needs it. There is no date or time. When he calls you or he comes to your room unannounced, that's it. Saying no is not an option.

But come to think of it, the last time you two had sex was quite a long time ago. It's been months.

'Does this mean... even in sex... he's not satisfied with me? Did he looked for a different woman to do it with?' You talk to yourself

"Leave us." He orders to the servants.

You didn't dare to glance up. You just kept yourself occupied by poking the fish on your plate.

"Your hair got longer..." he says making you pause

Your eyes goes up and see him looking straight at you."Ah... yes..." You answer before looking back down.

"Why ask for the fish if you're not going to eat it?"

You raise your head up again, "hmm?"

He tosses his one up like it's water. "Someone reported to me that you've been eating less lately."

"My appetite is fine... I'm just...off a bit..."

You put down your fork and try to think before you speak again. You can tell him you're tired because how can you be? You have all the assistant you need and more. Plus you are living a lavish life. You could ask for a massage, a facial or swim in the pool whenever you want. You have everything. Except him.

That. You can't mention. You can't dare ask for his attention. He'll get mad. You know he will. He said it in the very beginning of this relationship. That 'You are just his wife in papers. And never expect something more from him.'

"I'll be fine..."

You look straight back at him. You can finally see him clearly. He slightly moved to the side, giving you an amazing view of his face. He's still look as beautiful as you remember. His long hair, sharp eyes, pinkish lips and the scar.

"How's the auction?" He pulls out a cigarette from the pack he have on the table and lights it off. "You bought a vintage jewelry?"

"I did."

"How much is it?" He puffs smoke. His eyes are still fixated to you.

"It's a bit expensive... I'm sorry." You look down at your knotted fingers. "I got it for 1.5M."

"Reasonable."

"I tried to intimidate the other wives... but it didn't work..."

"You need to work on that."

"I will."

"But don't worry about the money... it's going to a good cause..." He stands up and puts off his cigarette on his used plate. "My mother liked the the jewelry set. She said, thank you."

Relief fills your heart and made you relax a bit. You are thankful that his mother liked the one you picked.

It's the only one you bought in the auction. The event is for charity and Yoongi gave you the go signal to throw money like dimes. He said you can buy anything you want.

You liked a lot of things there. Everything is grand, beautiful, meaningful and unique. But none of them bring joy to you. You don't need them so your heart can't afford to splurge.

"I'll go and get ready for bed..." he says as he stand by the window, looking outside.

"Ah... okay..." you look down at your plate and pick up your fork, to continue eating.

"When you finish..." he starts to walk towards the door, "Come to my room."

"Hmm?" You blink, confused. "Your... room?"

He stops just as he got outside the door and adds before totally closing the door "Ask the maid to braid your hair..."

'Braid your hair'. That means he wants to have sex.

"Sure..." you answer in a whisper though he's already not in the room.

***

You are finally walking in the hallway, on the way to his room. Barefoot and naked. Almost naked.

It has been a routine of you to braid your long hair and then just wear a silk robe over to cover your body. He likes it this way. He have particular things he likes and you follow them.

It's almost 9pm. All the staffs are now in their houses. Yoongi asked them to leave earlier so no one could hear and disturb us.

You took a deep breathe before you get ready to knock on his door. But then to your surprise the double door swings open and you see him, in his black jogger pants and a sheer robe over his naked body. "What took you so long?" His brows are furrowed.

"Sorry..." you lower your gaze from his beautiful face to his toned body.

"Get in." He orders, turning his back on you.

You slowly enter the forbiden room. It's like how you imagine it to be; spacious, dark and earth tone colors everywhere. But the things you've never imagined seeing in there are towers of books and comics on the floor. Then there is a gaming area too.

"Do you play?" He asks as he sits down at the corner of his massive bed.

You shake your head, "No... I'm sorry."

He's smoking again. "Come here." He orders as he puff the smoke in betwern his lips. You move closer to him, cautiously. "Why do you look nervous? It's not like it's our first time."

You are now standing in between his legs. "Sorry..."

He rolls his eyes slightly as he puts his cigarette onto the ashtray. "Why do you keep on apologizing?"

"I..." you pause and wait for him to look back at you. "I don't know."

He snorts, "whatever."

He takes off his robe and throws it somewhere behind you. You were about to do the same as his but he stops your hand from untying your robe.

"Are you on birth control?"

You shake your head. "No... we... I mean... you use condom..."

He didn't say anything after that. He just continued; picks up your braided hair thats lying on your chest and pushes it away. Your breathing picks up as you could feel and see him gazing at you. You even felt your body jerk a little when his finger tip brushed over your hard nipple. The sensation is on max. You needed him to touch you. You missed him touching you.

Yes, this relationship may not be real for him but to you, it's something. Plus, we all have our needs. And when it comes to sex, he delivers. More than you can imagine. And you like playing along with his needs.

He pulls the string keeping your robe on you and just watch it fall off your skin like feather.

You feel your cheeks heat up. You are exposed. He can see that you are already turned on. Your breast giving it all away.

"Come closer..." he orders and you follow.

His hands slides over your hips then goes up to your torso, for him to hold on to you. Hug you. He begins to suck one of your boobs like a baby. His eyes are fully close and his grasping onto your skin like he had been so hungry for so long. He's really enjoying it.

You as well.

"Ahh..." you exhale as you throw your head back. His tongue doing all the works and tickling your insides by just playing at your tip.

After a few more seconds, he stops and looks up at you. And you looking down at him.

"You're so beautiful..." you whisper to him as you run your fingertips over the scar on his face.

You lower your head to meet his lips. He welcomed your kiss like it was meant to be there five minute ago overdue. He is into it more than usual.

He finally gets naked like you. His length is hard and up. It's already leaking and looked very inviting for you to sit on. But you're too shy to make the first move.

You did try to sit on his lap though, legs spread out and core is so wet and ready; just a few inches away for his throbbing length. Then his hand goes in between and starts to rub you in the most sensual way possible.

"Holy shit!" You gasps breaking off from the kiss for a second just to take it all in.

A smug on his face can be seen catching you off guard. He had never reacted to you reacting to his touches like this before.

Your hips begin to rock just to feel his fingers on you.

"Y/n..." You look at him after hearing him say your name. "No condom today."

"O-okay..."

"Make me feel good." He says softly but sturn, pulling you close to his length.

The tip touching your opening already made you roll your eyes. He's so warm and big.

"F-fuck!" You cry as he eases himself into you. "Holy shit! Ugh!"

You start to move slowly, feeling it all in you, finding the pace and ryth. you think you could do all night but at the same time make him satisfied.

"You got tighter." He grunts as you go up and down on him while holding on to his shoulder for balance support.

"Holy fuck!" Your eyes starts to get filled with tears. You found your spot and his length is hitting it perfectly. "Fuck!"

You watch him close his eyes and his face showing how good you're making him feel. His broes is furrowed and his mouth open and hissing tiny breathes with you.

You can't believe it. Someone like you who was inexperience with sex, is now married and making your man look so damn sexy moaning.

"I'm gonna come." He hugs you tigh and begins to kiss you again. "I want to come in you." He opens his eyes and meets yours.

"Fucking come in me." You say

He then carries you as he stands up, changing your positions. Now you're the one on the bed and he's on top of you.

"I will rip you apart." He snarls.

Every fucking thrust is mean and yet satisfying. You feel like your insides shuffled from every hit. But it's not pain. It's heaven.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he climaxes with you.

The warmth inside you feels like a warm blanket during winter. It's felt relaxing.

He is breathing heavily, your hands are intertwined and his still on top and inside of you.

"Yoongi..." you say breathlessly as you admire him over you.

He moves in for a kiss. A soft gentle kiss. "Stay with me tonight..."

*****

Part 2

[silverzoomies]

quickie 22 please please please🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Peter Maximoff/Reader drabble: ⚡"Shh, just a little more..."⚡ warnings: dilf!peter, wardrobe malfunctions, awkward boners. this one isn't as filthy as it could be. sorry! i'll try and make the next ones extra filthy as compensation 💗

In one of the mansion’s guest bathrooms, Peter tugs the useless zipper of his dress pants.

Tonight’s the big night. Some millionaire humans are hosting another boring party. Big name politicians. Or business managers. Or whatever. Who the hell knows? Peter sure doesn’t. The last thing he wants is to attend another fancy affair. But Charles told the team it was mandatory. If only to make a positive impression on humans.

Eugh. Peter can’t stand that kinda shit. Playing kiss ass for a bunch of rich assholes. Elitist pricks who don’t care whether mutants live or die. On nights like this, Peter almost sympathizes with his absent father’s extremist mentality.

The team are all dressed up in expensive suits and glittery gowns. They wait together in the entrance hall. Five and half minutes passed since Peter insisted he’d be ready to go.

And, see, he didn’t mean to come back so late tonight.

He only wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible. Right down to the last second, Peter immersed himself completely in Luna’s little world. It’s not his fault he rarely gets to see her. His ex Crystal keeps him at such an arm’s length. Peter fears he won’t have a real relationship with the little peanut if he doesn't make the most of every moment.

Again. Running behind schedule? Not his fault.

And the fact that his zipper got stuck? That’s not his fault either. Peter wrestles with the godforsaken thing for another two minutes. He’s driving himself insane with it, since it took him only a half second to dress up in his newly tailored, uber expensive, rental suit.

Which, by the way, Peter won’t hesitate to admit; even though he hates dressing up, he looks ultra sharp. Like a suave, silver fox.

In a superspeed blur, he fumbles with the zipper to no avail. He alternates between squatting and standing. Peter tugs even harder, but the goddamn thing won’t budge. Even more frustrating, he can’t bend over enough to get a look at what’s causing his wardrobe malfunction. Another minute passes. And just when he thinks he’s gonna give up, go out, and give the world a peek at his undies; you come knocking at the door.

Peter’s saving grace. Like an angel from the heavens.

For a half second, the door flies open before Peter pulls you quickly inside by your arm. He drags you into the cramped, guest bathroom with him. With his back against the sink, he takes another half-second to check you out. Peter’s beady, lidded eyes zip all across, up and down your body, admiring your figure in a luxury dress. 

You whisper-shout at him, gesturing wildly with your hands, “What’s taking you so long? Scott’s about to freak out! Our ride’s here waiting and everything. Logan said we should just leave you here!” 

Oh. Right. The party. He almost forgot. Pulling his speedy gaze from your hips, Peter focuses on his cumbersome zipper again. “I’ll be there in a sec. Promise! Jeez. Can’t they all just slow their roll? Someone really needs to teach those guys some patience, amiright?” Peter snickers, grabbing a handful of his crotch, tugging his zipper hard with his opposite, “Motherfu-”

“You...uh...having some trouble?” 

You cross your arms, cocking a hip to the side as you watch his thick fingers fight his zipper. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Nope. I just felt like goin’ on a date with Pamela Handerson before our big night. What’s it look like??”

Cracking the briefest hint of a smile, you shake your head and wave your hands dismissively. “We don’t have time for this.” You note.

"You're tellin' me. I just can't get it to-" Peter stiffens as you step closer, pressing your curvy body against his, "Oh, hell-o."

With the stressful determination of a mother on school picture day; you double check the rest of his suit. Your gentle hands smooth the faint crinkles in his dress shirt, doing the same with his jacket, adjusting his tie - all before bringing your hand down to his crotch. Following a short apology, you blindly feel for that pesky zipper. On accident, you grab a firm handful of something else.

Peter jolts in place against the sink, canting his hips into your touch. In a flash, he latches a strong grip around your wrist. The corners of his eyes crinkle with fine lines as he playfully narrows his gaze.

“Whoaaa, there. Easy with the merchandise, baby.”

“Whoops! My bad. I'm just trying to help.” You raise a quizzical brow, challenging Peter with a look, "And who're you calling baby?"

"You is who I'm callin' baby, baby." He chimes in a playful tone, matching your teasing gaze.

He loosens his hold on your wrist, giving you free rein to continue.

After a beat or two, he adds, "And, hey, if you're still down for later..."

"Down? Down for what?"

"Y'know. Shopping for merchandise?"

He notices the way you suppress a riled laugh, ignoring his advances for the time being. You fight with his problematic zipper for a solid minute or two before ultimately sinking to your knees. Perching yourself on the floor in front of him, nose to crotch, you lean in as closely as you can. Peter feels blossoming heat flare up in his cheeks. Swallowing hard, he rests his hands on the edge of the sink behind him.

For a momentary instant, you lean back on with your ass resting on your heels. Peter gets a choice view of your flush cleavage. Pillowy and coaxing him to stare. He gnaws his lip and knits his mercury brows. His dusky gaze follows the motion of you leaning in, practically burying your face in his crotch to get a good look at the pesky pants culprit.

“Uhhh…hey…look, you really don’t gotta-” He chokes, his fingers clenching the countertop tighter.

“Aha! I found it! Just gimme a quick sec.”

A loose piece of fabric caught the zipper. You bring both hands up to try and tear it free, but it still won’t budge. Taking a more risky approach, you pull his fly open, ripping the piece of cloth with your teeth. Peter shudders as a sublime tingle races through his body. Warmth swarms in his groin. A more vulnerable expression overtakes his worn, rugged features.

“Oh my g-...uhm…babe…it’s cool. Seriously. You can stop now. I won’t hold it against you. Thanks for tryin'. I’ll just take one for the team and-”

You pull back again with a focused whisper, squinting your eyes.

“Shh, just a little more...”

“N-No. I’m not foolin’ around. I really think you should call it quits before-”

“SHHHH! Wait, I got it!”

It’s not until your teeth shred the fabric, freeing the zipper at last - that you realize he’s pitching a tent in his pants. Your hand rests over his crotch, and you can feel him pulsing hotly under your palm. Freezing in place, gaping at the (impressive) bulging sight before you, you steadily tilt your head up. Your pretty eyes peer at Peter with partial caution, and partial curiosity.

When you meet his sluggish, wide-eyed gaze; Peter has a hand covering his mouth. Staring down at you, his face burns blazing hot. He pauses, running his hand up from his mouth and through his silver hair, mussing the clean look he took so much time (a few microseconds) to style.

"Okay. In my defense-"

"Been a while?" You taunt him with a flirty chuckle.

Peter tips his head back, exhaling a throaty laugh, "Yeah. Been while."

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Book Recommendations

Every once in a while I like sharing some queer book recommendations on here as I read a lot and I get requests to share some of the books I love, so here we go! 

Tell Me I'm Worthless: Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends Ila and Hannah. Since then, things have not been going well. Alice is living a haunted existence, selling videos of herself cleaning for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. She hasn’t spoken to Ila since they went into the House. She hasn’t seen Hannah either.

Our Wives Under The Sea: Miri thinks she has got her wife back, when Leah finally returns after a deep sea mission that ended in catastrophe. It soon becomes clear, though, that Leah may have come back wrong. Whatever happened in that vessel, whatever it was they were supposed to be studying before they were stranded on the ocean floor, Leah has carried part of it with her, onto dry land and into their home. 

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty: Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again.It’s been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she’s almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio, and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it’s time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn’t ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career.

Silver Under Nightfall: Remy Pendergast is many things: the only son of the Duke of Valenbonne (though his father might wish otherwise), an elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires, and an outcast among his fellow Reapers. His mother was the subject of gossip even before she eloped with a vampire, giving rise to the rumors that Remy is half-vampire himself. Though the kingdom of Aluria barely tolerates him, Remy’s father has been shaping him into a weapon to fight for the kingdom at any cost.

Disintegrate/Dissociate: In her powerful debut collection of poetry, Arielle Twist unravels the complexities of human relationships after death and metamorphosis. In these spare yet powerful poems, she explores, with both rage and tenderness, the parameters of grief, trauma, displacement, and identity. Weaving together a past made murky by uncertainty and a present which exists in multitudes, Arielle Twist poetically navigates through what it means to be an Indigenous trans woman, discovering the possibilities of a hopeful future and a transcendent, beautiful path to regaining softness. 

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower: As a master of disguise, Thomasina Wynchester can be a polite young lady—or a bawdy old man. She’ll do whatever it takes to solve the cases her family takes on. But when Tommy’s beautiful new client turns out to be the highborn lady she’s secretly smitten with, more than her mission is at stake . . . 

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror: Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes—such as the circumspect and resilient “final girl,” body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet—spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world. 

Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture: Everything you know about sex and asexuality is (probably) wrong. The notion that everyone wants sex–and that we all have to have it–is false. It’s intertwined with our ideas about capitalism, race, gender, and queerness. And it impacts the most marginalized among us. For asexual folks, it means that ace and A-spec identity is often defined by a queerness that’s not queer enough, seen through a lens of perceived lack: lack of pleasure, connection, joy, maturity, and even humanity.

[danikamariewrites]

My North Star

Cassian x reader

Summary: You and your siblings represent the eight points of your father, King Astraeus’, brightest star. After his death your seven siblings have come to the decision to banish you since you don’t agree with their way to rule. Sending you across space and time you end up landing in the Illyrian Mountains.

Warnings: violence, angst, fluff, and very long

A/n: based on this request

They had you dress in your armor. Had you strap your sword to your back. All to get rid of you. In your twenty-five years of life never once had you been a nuisance to your siblings. Being the youngest made you unseen and you had handled it with grace.

Never had you defied your father or the woman you are forced to call mother. Never once had you gotten in their way of ascending the throne.

Your siblings were all in agreement on how they wanted to rule. And who would question gods?

You are young, you’ll learn is something you always heard from the seven of them. But you didn’t want to learn. You wanted to change things. Make the world a better place for the people you ruled over.

Clearly, your older siblings did not like that idea. You wouldn’t be standing here with a portal to gods knew where at your back as they all looked down at you from the dias in the throne room. Guards surrounding you with their weapons drawn.

“I have been nothing but compliant all my life. Learning to live in your shadows as father favored all of you, never paying attention to me. You were all I had. And now you’re abandoning me because what? I won’t agree to Castor’s ruling?”

Your eldest brother sighed, looking bored as he spread out on the throne. The sight made you sick. He was lazy, arrogant, and cruel. He is the last person in existence who should be king. “What’s done is done little sister. I can’t have descent among the ranks. Our brothers and sisters are in agreement with me.”

Tears stream down your face as you realize what Castor was truly mad about. Were you truly being punished for something you had no control over? "That's not why you're getting rid of me, is it? You hate that I'm more powerful. If I'm still around our people will question your rule when they see me." Castor pounded his fist against the arm of the throne. He stood so abruptly the throne almost toppled over.

Guards and courtiers and even a few of your siblings were confused at the reaction you drew from him. Castor points a finger at you, the rage simmering on his face threatening to boil over. “You have no right to speak to me that way!” He stomps down the dias stopping at the line of guards keeping you from your family.

Castor takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm his temper. It’s too late though. He’s already ruined himself for the people who are supposed to show him blind loyalty. “You will hand over your sword before you go.” He said plainly. “No.” You say firmly, standing straighter, ready to defend yourself. If you were going to take something with you it would be the silver and pearl sword at your back. You forged it when you were fifteen before your first battle to match the bright silver armor you were wearing now. Like hell you’d give that up. It was imbued with your power. Castor would melt it down for its core and the beautiful thing you’d created would be gone.

The guards looked conflicted as Castor waved his hand for them to stand in attack position. You discreetly step back two paces, trying to get as closer to the portal before they strike. It was shrinking as Castor wasted time. You realize that you’d have to jump soon or die here.

“Give it here, little sister.” He holds out his hand, impatience running low. You shake your head vehemently. You take two more steps back. The cold breeze from the portal sending chills through the open spots in your armor. “No Castor.” You say trying to keep the shakiness from your voice. “You want me gone? Then all of me is going.”

The room around you fades. Closing the distance between you and the unknown, you leap before anyone can grab you. There’s a moment where you’re suspended in mid air. A light feeling taking over your body. Like you weigh nothing. Looking back you find the chaos of the throne room frozen. Castor lunging to grab any part of you he can reach. Guards mid-swing to strike you down.

You don’t have a chance to fully take in the scene before you're falling. There's just darkness as you tumble through time and space. You feel a pull in your stomach. It's unbearable. Your bones feel like they’re compressing. Before it gets worse the pain vanishes as you keep falling. And falling. And falling.

It felt like you were falling for hours. Days. Years. All sense of time and direction was gone. Left was up and Down was right. Tears from your eyes spilled upward, floating away from your face. You didn't know if it was from the wind whistling past or your fear of the unknown.

When you could finally see again you started slowing down. As if the universe was deciding where to put you. Taunting you with what could be.

Different worlds in all different periods of time flew by. Major cities that looked old and new. Gleaming towers touching the sky, people with and with out wings flying through the air. Lush green worlds with castles, some with odd architecture that seemed millennia away built into the land, others with flying ships coming and going. Worlds made entirely of water with structures just above the restless surface.

But the universe didn't stop at any of these places. If you could choose you don't know which world you would pick. You'd love to explore all of them if you could.

Time slowed again, bringing you to another world. The final one it seems. A glittering night sky came into view until it was the only thing you saw. Snow capped mountains appeared to get closer, the air chilly with a roaring wind.

Gasping, you realized this is where you were being dropped. The universe picked a world and it was this gorgeous, endless night. At least you'd have the stars. Maybe there would be new constellations for you to discover.

You tried to control the rest of your fall. Summoning your power, your hands eminated that familiar shimmering white glow. You could use the propulsion of the 'star beams'—you and your sister Vesper lovingly called them—to slow down. The light flickered like you couldn't fully connect to it. Your heart pounded hoping it was just a one-time thing.

It was not.

In fact your light seemed to dim every few hundred feet. You felt an odd buzzing rush through your body at what seemed like the five hundered feet mark. By three hundred feet your power fully flickered out on you.

Holding in your scream you braced for impact. You silently prayed the snow was deep enough to cushion you. Feeling the ground rush up at you, you screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to watch.

The snow was no help at all. You hit the hard, cold earth hard. You rolled over onto your back taking in deep breaths to help dispel the pain running rampant through your bones. To distract yourself from your shaking body you focus on the night sky.

The stars seemed so familiar but new. Even though your current situation sucked a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You have a new night sky to discover. A new north star to navigate the land with.

Sitting up you move and crack your joints to get feeling back in your body. Now that your bones have stopped shaking you stand, stretching again.

You look around the mountain region and spot what you hope is a village in the distance. Lanters and fire light told you that the residents were still awake. Hope flared in your heart. Maybe this mountain village would be your new home. A smiple life but it would be yours and no one would try to control you.

——

Rhys felt the breach in the wards an hour ago. With every minute he wasted winnowing to Windhaven, telling Devlon, and tracking down Cassian and Azriel he was on edge. Anyone could have broken through. And that anyone could have any kind of power with a grudge or looking to destroy a city.

While waiting the High Lord donned his fighting leathers, strapping his sword to his back. His brothers came rushing up to him as he pulled the leather srap through it's buckle.

"Devlon sure took his time getting you two. Did he tell you about the wards?" Rhys asked, tension in his voice from the concern for his court. The pair shook their heads givinging their brother a worried look. “An hour ago the wards were breached. Whoever it was is up here in the mountains so they have a ways to go before the city. I want this done quietly so we don’t cause panic, ready?”

“Let’s go.” Cassian said, checking the glowing ruby siphons on the back of his hands. The three brothers spread their wings, taking off into the night sky.

——

Cutting your way through the forest the trees finally thinned out. You must be getting close to that village. Taking a pause, you lean against one of the thick tree trunks to stretch out your back. Your body still feels tight and achey from the fall. Gods, you’d kill to have a hot bath right now.

Letting go of the rough bark you wiped your hands together to get rid of the dirt. Continuing your trek up the steep mountain the sound of beating wings above you making you freeze. Not knowing what is attached to said wings you find it in your best interest to hide. And you better hide fast because they sound like they’re slowing down.

Running on silent feet you backtrack a few feet to the left to hide behind one of the larger trees. The sound of someone whooshing through the branches and landing, shaking your surroundings makes you hold your breath. Pressing your back to the tree trunk hard you will your powers to come back to you. That familiar light sensation in your body had noticeably dimmed.

If you had to fight you were terrified you’d have to rely on hand-to-hand combat or weapons. You weren’t at full strength, no way you could last.

Crunching footsteps got louder and louder as whoever was searching the woods drew closer. You had to make a decision and fast. Attack first or wait. The thing about waiting is that you can get too comfortable with your hiding spot. You let your guard down and someone surprises you.

Taking a chance you peek out from behind the tree. The thing with large membranous wings had his back to you. It looked like a male, male shaped at least. He could have a creature like face for all you knew. Something nasty and horrible or sharp teeth meant for ripping limbs from your body. You had never encountered anything like that on your home world but you always had a wild imagination.

Home world. What an odd thing to say.

The winged creature turned slightly, just enough so you could see his profile. Definitely not a sharp toothed monster. He seemed quite handsome actually. You wanted a closer look at him except every warning bell in your head was going off telling you to stay put.

His nostrils flared, sniffing the air. You quickly duck back behind the tree holding your breath once again.

A red blast shot through the tree just next to your head. You roll sideways, shooting to your feet. The male was closer now. Glowing red stones adorned his hands, shoulders, knees, and chest. They were pulsing with power as his face portrayed a warriors rage.

Holding your hands out at your sides, palms out, you willed your power back to you harder than you ever had in your entire life. To your relief, your hands glowed brighter than you had ever seen them. You felt the light in your whole being. It felt like it was emanating from your whole body.

The male looked frightened for a moment before snapping back into a battle stance. The dam you were keeping up on your rage at your family was breaking. If this male was looking for a fight you would give it to him. You bring your palm up to cover his chest in your line of sight.

A red shimmering shield absorbed some of the light, pushing the male backwards a few feet. Once the light died the rage on his face was clear. His teeth were bared at you and he let out a deep threatening growl. He started running at you drawing his sword.

You mimic his movements, bring the metal to clash in a loud ringing that shook your eardrums. It didn’t affect you as much as the male, who winced in pain. You didn’t hold back. You slashed and slashed and slashed. Hoping he’d fall soon.

You brought the male to his knees with a flash of your power and extra aggressive swing of your sword. Your blade sticks in his, creating a small notch. The surprise on his face changed to anger. He pushed back hard with a loud cry. You tried your hardest to dig the heels of your silver boots into the ground. The snow and frozen dirt making it impossible to find purchase.

He pushes you over a thick root causing you to lose balance. Calling to your power again you find it flickering out again. The white light dying as it reaches your finger tips. He notices and takes advantage. Elbowing you in the chest you fall the ground hard for the second time that night.

Before you can recover and fight back he dropped his knees down on either side of you, straddling your middle. Your instincts scream at you to start scratching and hitting him. But he acts like he’s being bothered by a fly as he bats your hands away. Catching your wrists in one hand he pins them above your head. You still struggle. You didn’t want to make it too easy.

Watching his face you noticed his eyes glaze over. His attention was on you, but it seemed like he was somewhere else. Taking advantage of the moment you attempt to knee him in the groin. He catches on to what you’re trying to do and moves to trap your legs tighter. You were now fully pinned under this hulking male.

There’s no way to get out of this. He’s far stronger and if you did break free he’d have no problem reaching out to pull you back. Or he could fly off with you. Then your chances at reaching the small mountain village would be zero. Your chances were looking pretty grim right now anyway.

As you stopped struggling and accepted your fate for right now. Adrenaline wearing off had the exhaustion of everything hit you. The bruises and stiffness from falling out of the sky. The ache in your chest from where the male elbowed you. Your arms were shaking from wielding g your sword. You are a certified mess.

Your vision began to go in and out. Between long blinks you saw two other figures standing over you. They were almost identical to the male on top of you. Almost. Even in your tired haze you could tell there was something unique about each of them. That they each held a special power. And then nothing.

——

You came to with a jolt. Feeling ropes tight around your wrists you started to panic. The door to the room you’re being held in opens with a bang. You wince and tuck your chin to your chest.

You had to get out. Escape somehow. You refuse to be locked away after escaping (well…being banished) from your own personal hell. How sad would it be if you traded your brother for another monster. Maybe you should’ve stayed. Continued being the silent, unquestioning sister and support Castor’s rule.

Looking up you see the three males from last night. You assumed everything happened last night since it was day time. You hoped it was last night.

The three look down at you with an odd curiosity. Like they’re dissecting you. You notice that glazed over look in all their eyes. As quickly as you noticed it their gazes refocus on you. The one in the middle who clearly carries himself like a leader steps forward.

“You’re a curious little silver thing. No one in the seven courts, or on the Continent for that matter, has claimed you to be their spy or warrior.” You raise an eyebrow at him, pursing your lips. Courts? The Continent? Just where exactly did you end up? The only positive you see right now is that the two of you can communicate. Hopefully you can clear things up and this male will believe your story.

You start to say something but the words get caught in your throat. Your mouth feels dry as you start to get anxious. What if they don’t believe how you got here? Would they just kill you? You had to stop catastrophizing. You’ll never talk if anxiety gets the better of you.

“I’m not from here. I had no idea where I was landing.” They all give you the same confused look. “From Prythian or another continent?” Ok, now’s your time to shine. Just drop that mind blowing piece of info on them and be done with it. “I’m from a different world.”

You bet if you knew them personally those expressions they are making would be priceless. The three males are completely dumbfounded. The one in the middle snaps back to his leader stance, something like curiosity and the knowledge of being right sparkling in his violet eyes.

“Please explain,” he said with a slight, confused smirk pulling at his lips. “Can I sit somewhere more comfortable? It’s a long story and I’m in so much pain.” You shouldn’t have mentioned the pain part but you are desperate for a cushy arm chair or a couch. A fluffy rug even. Anything but a rickety wooden chair and ropes that cut off your circulation.

He looks like he’s debating letting you. His hesitance makes you start your epic tale. “I was banished from my home, but it felt more like running before something bad happened.” The sincerity in your eyes makes up his mind. With a wave of his hand the ropes disappear.

Pushing yourself to stand you’re a bit wobbly. Now that you’ve rested you are starting to truly feel all the pain from last night. You should be fine in a day thanks to your accelerated healing. At least being part god from your father’s side was good for something.

The male who had been questioning you lightly grabbed your arms. Steadying, he leads you into a sitting room. Looking over your shoulder you see the room you were just in is no longer empty. The wooden chair was gone and bedroom furniture decorated the space. Curious. A place of magic then.

Stretching out on the large couch you let out a sigh. It feels good to be comfortable. The three males, still nameless to you, you realize, take up different seats around you. “I’m y/n, by the way.” “My name is Rhysand. You are already well aquatinted with Cassian,” Rhysand gestures towards the male with the red gems in his leathers, giving you a small two-fingered salute. “And this is Azriel.” He silently gives you a small nod in greeting, like you just entered their home and haven’t been their “prisoner” for the last twelve hours.

You tell Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian the story of your fathers passing, how you think your oldest brother murdered him, that he didn’t want you around anymore under the guise of not agreeing to his way of ruling. You did not give up the extent of your power. You still didn’t know if you could fully trust these three.

Rhysand then explained that you were now in the realm of the Fae. That there are seven courts in Prythian and fate had chosen the Night Court for you, the court he is High Lord of. You were blown away by the description of these courts. Wanting to explore them all.

After being told about his powers you let Rhysand into your mind. You wanted to establish trust and you knew how to fight off someone with telepathic powers. You could easily crush his mind if it came to that. Seeing that your story was true, and that you truly could not return home, Rhysand gave you a sympathetic look.

Days went by. The High Lord let you stay in his cabin until he thought of a permanent solution for you. The male you fought, Cassian, was staying with you. Not to watch you, Rhysand had reassured, to keep you company. It didn’t feel like it though. You still felt like you were tied to that rickety wooden chair.

Sitting around didn’t feel right to you. Learning there was a whole camp outside the cabin where a fighting style you had no idea about was being taught made you restless. You wanted to learn. Wanted Cassian to teach you.

You like talking with Cassian. During meals and at night before bed you would trade stories from childhood or fights you had been in. He was amazed you could fight so well and wielded so much power at twenty five years old.

Tension seemed to be growing between the two of you. Not bad tension. It was almost awkward. Like neither of you wanted to say the wrong thing. For the first time a male wasn’t speaking to you to climb a social ladder or to get to one of your family members. Cassian seemed truly interested in you, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

You couldn’t deny that he’s attractive. You have a craving for him. You want him to be yours. You want all of his attention. Plus he is everything you want in a male. Strong, good looking, a fighter, kind, and caring.

Over dinner that night you finally worked up the courage to ask Cassian if he would be willing to show you the camp and let you train. he had paused, thinking through his options. You didn’t know Illyrians, which scared him. Cassian would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. “I will ask Rhys if you can train. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Truthfully, he wanted you to stay in the safety of the cabin until your permeant solution was available. But he knew the reality of what you are. You’re a warrior, a fighter like him. And you would rather die than sit still.

Three days passed without an answer from Rhys. You had become impatient and irritated with Cassian’s answer each time you asked. “He hasn’t made his decision yet. But he will soon.” Soon. You were getting sick of that word. You could tell Cassian felt bad each time he didn’t give you the answer you wanted. He knows what it’s like to want to let the warrior out. To do your routine. To fight.

Making the decision for Rhys you dress in the fighting leathers Cassian had made for you. Adding your silver gauntlets to your arms and strapping your sword to your back. The leathers fit like a glove. Flexible and breathable. If only you could fully mix these with your armor. Then you’d have quite the battle suit.

You weren’t allowed to roam the village alone. Suspecting that was more Cassian than Rhys given the way residents of Windhaven were staring at you. Murmurs joined their curious looks. But you held your head high, keeping your pace calm as you look for the training rings.

None of them are Castor. He is not here. He cannot hurt you. You had been repeating those words to yourself more than you’d like to admit. Every night since you arrived in the Night Court sleep had been restless. Nightmares of Castor getting his hands on your sword or killing you or locking you up plagued you.

Cassian had been there, though. He sat with you, talked with you. One night, after a particularly horrible nightmare, Cassian sat with you on the couch letting you grip his hand. The two of you sat in silence for hours as his warm, rough hands grounded you.

He never asked questions. Never pushed you to talk about it. He let you take things at your own pace, which you were grateful for.

Your siblings or father or handmaidens never let you talk about things that bothered you. They all believed nightmares were silly things to dwell on. “Ignore it,” you had been told when all you wanted was comfort.

Clanging metal had you shaking the thoughts from your head. Especially the ones of Cassian. You find him in one of the training rings with his shirt off, sparring with another male that looks younger. The ring was surrounded by a group of males who all looked younger than him. You watch him spar, his muscles flexing and those wings move to help keep his balance.

Something you couldn’t get over was his tattoos. The black intricate swirls spanning his chest and arms left you breathless.

As Cassian blocked the males strike he struck the younger males abdomen with a fist, sending him sprawling in the dirt. As the male stands you find yourself in line at the edge of the ring. Cassian turns from the male to talk about everything his opponent had done wrong. He stopped short noticing you among the Illyrians. The rest of the group follows his gaze, those closest to you edging away. Cassian looks at you bewildered. Trying to tell you to go back to the cabin with his eyes.

“I got bored.” You say nonchalantly, giving him a small shrug. A male across the ring sneers at you. Good. You were looking to let off some steam.

Cassian opens his mouth to most likely tell you no until the male who sneered at you spoke up. “Since when did outside females get to join training?” He smirked, thinking he struck a nerve. You returned his smirk with your own. Taking a step over the chalk line. “If you want we can spar. Unless you’re afraid to lose to a female,” you taunt him. Anger flashed in his face before that cocky smirk returned.

“Fine,” he bites out, drawing his sword. From the corner of your eye you spot Cassian. He had a torn look on his face. Like he wanted to stop you but he couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like at full power. How truly unleashed you could get. Gods was he…turned on by this?

Yes. Yes, he absolutely is.

After this—he told himself—he would make his move. You were made for him. Literally fell from the sky for him. After that first fight Cassian knew he met his match.

Focusing back on the fight in front of you, you draw your sword. The pure silver blade and mother of pearl inlay gleaming in the afternoon sun. A collective gasp sounded from the group at the pure power of the blade.

The two of you face off in a ready stance. Cassian marks the start of the fight and you begin circling each other. He makes the first move, trying to rush you. You block, spinning out into a defensive stance to continue circling. This was taking too long. You wanted more action than this.

Spinning your sword you run feel speed, watching the cocky look melt from the bastards face. He rushes to block your slashes. Catching him off guard you knock the sword from his hand, sending it flying past the chalk line.

Something snapped in you. The male looked at you ready to brace the storm that brewed in your eyes. Driving your sword into the dirt you launch yourself at him. Landing a hard, unforgiving kick to his chest. Stumbling back a few steps he regains his balance, putting his fists up. You dodge each punch he throws at you.

After you counted six punches you could tell he was tiring himself out. Pathetic. When his fists were lowered you saw your opening. Throwing a right hook his jaw made a sickening crunch. Finally down on the ground you dropped all your weight onto your right knee, falling onto his ribs.

You couldn’t help but punch his face over and over and over and over again. You couldn’t stop seeing Castor’s smug face. That smiling, thinking he had won by getting rid of you. You didn’t stop until a dark power rumbled all around you. A deep, dark voice booming through the village.

“ENOUGH Y/N!” Rhysand was standing next to Cassian, who looked like he didn’t know what to do. His warm hazel eyes sparkling as he looked from your bloody fists to your wild face. Looking Rhysand dead in the eyes you land one more punch.

Shoving yourself off the male you stand at your full height. Rolling out your shoulders and neck. Letting the tension in your muscles fall away. Picking up your sword and walking out of the ring right up to the high lord the other Illyrian’s gave you weary looks. Worried that if they breathed wrong they would be on the ground and bloody next.

“I’m a god Rhys,” your tone cool and confident, “you don’t tell me to stop fighting.” As you walk back in the direction of the cabin you miss the look of Cassian is giving you. His hazel irises are practically in the shape of hearts as he watches you saunter off.

[messedupfan]

The Hope of a Free World: The Prologue

Summary: It's the last night of the Victory Tour for Katniss and Peeta and you are expected to attend the social event of the year at President Snow's mansion.

A/n: Hello! Sorry that this has taken so long to get out! I had so many ideas when it came to this request. The other two parts aren't quite ready but I hope that y'all enjoy this start!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are threading your coin through your fingers and sigh. Things in the districts were beginning to get restless as rumors of an uprising began to spread. Ever since two teenagers from Twelve defied the Capitol and refused to play by the rules of their game. In the name of love, they claimed. It didn’t matter to those in the districts. You found it to be a bold move by the star-crossed lovers of District 12. But anyone paying attention can see that the girl was acting out of survival instincts and defiance. Not out of pure love for the boy she seemed to hardly know. 

“The train to the Capitol will be here soon,” Finnick says as he knocks your feet off of his coffee table as he adjusts his cufflinks. “You need to get ready and preferably stop crashing on my sofa. You have your own house, remember?” He stops at an extravagant mirror that hangs on the wall to adjust his collar. 

You sigh again, “I made a promise to stop drinking excessively. I can’t do that and be alone over there. Besides if I recall, Annie said I can crash here as often as I please.” 

“Wanda is lucky she only has to deal with you a couple of times a year,” he gripes as he double checks his appearance. “Get dressed, now,” he shook his head because you were still sitting on the couch, moving your coin through your fingers. It was your token in the Hunger Games. This was a coin that your father made you when you were a kid. It was a silver medallion meant to be worn on a chain. But you haven’t worn it in years because you rather fiddle with it whenever you are nervous. On the face of the medallion is a trident rising out of thin silver waves. A blue abalone shell provides a naturally patterned ocean blue background. Your father was very skilled with making jewelry. You were excited to return home from your Games to share your wealth with him and buy him all of the material he could only dream of. But, because of your minor rebellious actions in the Games, he was taken from you. By President Snow. 

Not the man himself, of course, but he gave the order. 

“Okay, okay,” you grumble as you stand up from the couch. “You know, I think Annie lets me stay over because I’m the closest thing to a child the two of you will ever have.” 

Finnick shakes his head with a laugh, “You might be right.” Even though you weren’t much younger than Finnick and Annie, they took you under their wing. They knew exactly what you were going through when you lost your father. Finnick knew better than anyone when you turned eighteen and Snow first arranged for you to meet with a customer. The mistake you had made was keeping in touch with your friends and falling for someone. Snow threatened their lives and their families lives if you refused to show the customer a good time. None of them deserved to die for your mistakes. Or worse, be turned into Avoxes. The tongueless slaves to the Capitol. 

In no time at all, you are on the train to the Capitol. For the past couple of years, you were typically giddy about getting a trip to the Capitol. It meant that you could visit with Wanda. But with talks about an uprising, you wanted to focus on that more than anything. A successful uprising could mean freedom from the segregation of the districts and the oppression of President Snow. Freedom from the Games. Most importantly, it could mean the freedom to love. You never saw yourself falling as hard as you have for someone from the Capitol but Wanda has a certain way about her. Beyond the enchanting green eyes and the vibrant red wig, which she wore to blend in with the Capitol culture. She was a person. She had opinions and interesting ideas. She hated the Games as much as anyone in the districts does. 

“Keep your focus, you’ll be able to see your girl tonight,” Finnick whispered into your ear as the train came to a stop. You roll your shoulders and smooth out your clothing as you stand in front of the exit of the train. Katniss and Peeta had been in District 4 only a few days ago for their Victory Tour and tonight was the final night of their tour. It was going to end with a massive party in President Snow’s mansion and every victor that could be sold was expected to be in attendance. Especially since this year’s victors could not be auctioned off as they have been in the past. 

As you are escorted to a vehicle there are screens everywhere airing footage of Peeta on one knee in front of Katniss. You shook your head. They were smart to get engaged so publicly.  You predict that lot of your clients will be so bummed that they can’t have a night with either of them. It could hurt the government and raise a lot of questions if it ever came out that Katniss or Peeta were ever spotted spending time with someone else. Though, you are certain that there are plenty of people that will still try to spend a night with either of them or even both of them once they have turned eighteen. You just hope that the government is overthrown before that can happen. Thankfully, on this trip, you’re not expected to see anyone until the event. So you don’t have to worry about hearing creepy rich guys complain about how they can’t be the ones to deflower the girl on fire. You know exactly where you’ll be spending your night. 

“I think I know who I’m bidding on,” Wanda whispered in your ear from behind you. Her warm breath tickled your skin and warmed your heart as you closed your eyes to bask in the feeling for a moment. 

“Now, now, Ms. Maximoff,” you say as you step back and turn around to get a look at her. Most women in the Capitol opted for frilly dresses, something to accentuate their womanly curves, or hide the lack of them under layers and layers of thick fabric with outlandish designs. Wanda, however, succeeded in showing off her attributes in a simple yet stylish red and black suit with a black turtle neck. The black on her suit sat on the notch lapels of her coat. It looked as though there was a darkness from inside that was spilling out onto the solid blood red that made up the rest of her suit. She also wore a gold necklace with a gold coin on it. You’ve never seen this one before. You frown as you pick it up to observe it, she hasn’t bought jewelry for herself in years. She was usually gifted jewelry and it was never as simple as this. As you move it in the light, an image of the Mockingjay appears. “That’s quite a piece right there.” You look around and notice all of the memorabilia and cheap merchandise of that bird that decorated the event on both the walls, tables, and even the guests. 

“Like it?” Wanda asks as she leans in. “It’s one of a kind,” she winks. 

You smirk as you adjust the gold coin on her chest. “Very fitting for you, Ms. Maximoff.” You wink. There was a reason this Mockingjay was hidden in plain sight but you weren’t going to ask standing in a heavily monitored event. 

Wanda blushes, “You flatter me too much.” You’re about to ask where you could get something of your own when music announcing President Snow’s appearance cuts the conversation short. Every person that was inside of the mansion filtered out the back doors to give their full attention to the President as he addressed the attendees. You didn’t care too much for the speech when you noticed Finnick slipping away with the 75th Hunger Games head gamemaker, Plutarch Heavnsbee. You narrowed your eyes as you finished the rest of your mocktail. Wishing that you could’ve had alcohol inside. 

That night, you didn’t follow them. You didn’t ask questions. You simply made polite conversation with the guests of honor as well as the other guests while making a mental note of everyone of your fellow victors that you’ve noticed disappear throughout the event. The absence that worried you the most was Wanda’s. You were certain she would have taken you home with her. Luckily, when you went to find out who did win the bidding war for your company, you were relieved to be informed that Ms. Maximoff was waiting for you at her home. 

You didn’t ask Wanda where she disappeared off to when she finally slipped through the shadows and joined you in the bed. You kept your thoughts to yourself in the morning as you committed the details of being with her to your memory. Every freckle and beauty mark that was spread about on her body. Every kiss she placed on yours. Every taste. Every caress. The way her enchanting green eyes made you dream of a brighter future as you gazed into them. You memorized the way her breath changed as she got closer and closer to her climax. Her light giggles when you made a joke and kissed behind her ear. This wasn’t a meeting that you needed to numb yourself from. You wanted to be here between her warm silk sheets, memorizing the way she fit perfectly in your arms as she sat between your legs. Locking all of it away in a place close to your heart for you to use the next time you have to be with someone else. 

“Wanda I,” you sighed where you sat at the edge of her bed as you got ready to leave her. She crawled up to you and wrapped her body around you as she hushed you.

“Don’t say it,” she whispered against your ear as she kissed your neck. “I know.” You nodded and melted in her embrace for a moment before you finished getting ready. Her time was almost up and the Peacekeepers were very punctual. 

It was noon when you kissed her goodbye just as a Peacekeeper knocked lightly on the door to escort you to the vehicle that is going to deliver you to the train you’ll take home. You hated when Peacekeepers picked you up in the Capitol. They were so polite it made you sick. It was unfair. They were meant to keep the peace but often they could be the opposite in the districts. According to your father, that’s how you lost your mother. She was bartering with a Peacekeeper that was trying to lowball her. She refused and that made the officer unhappy. He had every Peacekeeper in Four keep a close eye on her and when she eventually slipped up, they had her executed. Your father never mentioned what she did that cost her life and you never asked. 

But when you return to District 4, you end your streak of not asking questions and you pull Finnick aside to ask him what the hell is going on.

The Tribute The Mentor

 Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles

[yakumtsaki]

AND WE'RE BACK. My cancerous thyroid might have briefly cucked me, but now I'm about to cuck every goddamn semi-incestuous couple in this house. Isn't that right, Baby?

-CAWK CAWK

Exactly! Baby here is a parrot that Meadow rolled the want for and I was like sure, what problems could a parrot possibly cause?

-OPEN THIS DOOR. SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR FOR ME. OPEN IT RIGHT NOW OPEN IT OPEN IT

Um it should open automatically for you wtf?

-OPEN THE DOOR, MAMMAL TRASH, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING

Ok Baby seriously why won't the doors open for you?

-I DON'T KNOW BUT I WILL STAY HERE AND PREVENT EVERYONE FROM GOING TO CLASS BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO STUPID TO USE THE OTHER DOOR

Alright then, clearly there's only one solution to this..

Perfection.

-Um, what happened to the door?

-IT ASKED TOO MANY STUPID QUESTIONS. OUT OF THE WAY, HUMMIE SCUM

Well, Baby was clearly a much needed addition to this house. Now, to the main event: an end to the Year of Sin!

NOP, NEVERMIND, SPOKE TOO SOON, MUST DO THIS INSTEAD. We invite Good Witch over for Spice and she asks to bring a friend and it's FUCKING MALCOLM. LMAO. I simply have to, I can't resist-

-Well well well, if it isn't the famous Malcolm Landgraab IV, the finest intergenerational concubine the world has ever seen!

-Huh?

-You were too much of a straggot to date my father, but I know you won't be able to resist the charms of the much better looking son!

-What?

-God, the conversation is just crackling with sexual tension!

-So, Malc, I believe we should make out. Thoughts?

-Where are those fucking butterflies coming from?

-Your stomach? ;)

No, they're from the Good Witch, my bad y'all.

After many, MANY hours of talking, Malcolm finally accepts a lame wolf whistle-

-but our efforts are interrupted by Felina returning from class. WILL YOU GIVE IT A FUCKING REST FOR ONE DAY

-NEVER

-Sorry kid, but if Malcolm Landgraab is to ever consider bisexuality, it will be for someone who can beat up his own sister.

Wtf kinda rule is that you freak?? You know what, just gtfo-

-NO. Stay here, Malcolm, I'd like to hear stories about you and great-great grandma Victoria!

-Oh wow, now that was a real woman. She could hold her liquor, she could whore around, she could beat up anyone.. No man could ask for anyone more feminine!

You are so right, Malcolm, the only one to ever do it better was Long John Silver!

Ok seriously Barth is there a plan here, why are we wasting valuable time on platonic interactions with this loser?

-I just have a feeling true love will prevail!

What are you even talking about-

UM PWND @ ME WTF. ACR DOES IT AGAIN WITH LITERAL NEGATIVE CHEMISTRY LOL

OH FUCK YES TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. Two Babies with one stone if you will!

-HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON ME, YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD

Ya ok GROSS but finally we can put this behind us, 1 down, 200 more to go. Cyan go back to your other cousin-lover while you still can because I'm breaking you up too!

-Don't have to tell me twice!

Ugh.

-Hmmm...

What now, Barth.

-Nothing, I just keep forgetting I actually have two eyes.

Ya, you and me both.

-But now that I possess peripheral vision, I see there's so much to be done in this house.

You have set yourself on fire multiple times, please stop with the household tasks, that's why we have a butler.

-But he never actually does anything!

Yes well, his main job is to answer the door and we no longer have one, but it's still money well spent.

-WELL I WILL FIX THE DISHWASHER OR DIE TRYING

-BARTH NO I STILL LOVE YOU

-FUCK YOU SUNSET, YOU BROKE MY HEART BY SLEEPING WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND. HE'S NOT EVEN RELATED TO YOU

Barth no offense but I think I'm ready for your next electrocution to take you out.

-As am I!

-And I!

-GETTING SLAPPED MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY IS STARTING TO AFFECT MY MENTAL HEALTH HOW DO I MAKE IT STOP

You could stop being Satan incarnate?

-No, there has to be a better way!

-How about I sleep with the boyfriend of the only cousin in this house who doesn't already hate me?

Yes, absolutely, and please take another crack at fixing the dishwasher when you're done.

[moonyasnow]

Moony's TWST Vampire AU

Part 7: Diasomnia

Heartslabyul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia (you are here) Extras

(listen I know what a massive contrast this is— it's just the only official art which shows the entire Dorm together)

Special warning for this part! It WILL contain Book 7 spoilers! Such as: Lilia's past, Malleus' parents, Sebek's grandfather, and some Silver stuff

This is NOT ORGANIZED lmao Literally just unfiltered thoughts and ideas, with some short writing snippets only sneaking in by accident. Literal brainrot stuff

Also some thoughts will absolutely be longer than others I wrote most of this in like 5 hours in one sitting

It will be in 8 parts. First the dorms, and then a final one for my thoughts on some side-characters' places in this AU

Basic Rules of the Vampire AU:

A vampire is unkillable until they turn someone. As such, vampires are rare, and usually created on accident.

Vampires can't die of starvation. They can sure try, and by god will it hurt, but it can't kill them.

Vampires can drink liquids that aren't blood, though they get no nutrients from it, but they cannot ingest food. If they try to eat normal food, they just throw it up, their bodies rejecting it entirely.

They can drink any blood that is not from another vampire.

Malleus

Malleus was one of the rare few to be BORN a vampire. It is theorized that his family is the one which all current vampires can trace their affliction back to. Though older than all turned vampires in this AU, with the exception of Lilia, he is still considered quite young as far as pureblooded vampires go. Millenia before modern times, there were many born vampire families, though they have all since perished. It just so happens that the Draconia bloodline had some unique power which made them able to grant some small part of their powers to others— hence why the turned vampires stemming from the Draconia bloodline are some of the few traces left of the race of born vampires as a whole.

Him being a pureblooded vampire, and the last of his ancient kind— which humans, through witch-hunts and crusades and pogroms, hunted to near-extinction— means that he is assured to be the last. For even if, by some miracle, he produces an heir— which would have to be with a human, as all turned vampires are well and truly dead, yet a human and vampire having a child is still difficult— that child would still only ever be half.

It is…a crushing weight, to have to live with.

An unspeakable sorrow, so much bigger than one vampire's, never mind a human's, life. An entire history, come to an end. Lost forever to the hands of time.

And Malleus isn't ready to face it. So he studies. He travels across the globe to any ancient settings he can find with any hint of having been touched by his kind. All in order to gain more information to compile. To be closer to the faceless kin he has lost. Chasing the ghosts of ancestors whose names he will never know, or if he does, never be able to properly pronounce, for their names were from long-since dead languages whom no one could possibly pronounce accurately, the modern equivalents having changed far too much to still sound the same.

He cannot stop to ask himself 'why'.

Because if he does, if he questions if his work matters, he will question if anything matters.

He grew up with Lilia's tales of his mother, of his father, his grandmother, grandfather… Tales of them are all he has. While he doesn't need to fear Lilia reaching the end of his un-life naturally in this AU, he is still aware the day could come.

Ironically for the man with the longest life left to live, he is the one who spends the most time running from oblivion.

On a more neutral note, as a born vampire, his taste in blood is a lot pickier than that of a turned vampire. Unlike turned vampires, who can subsist on basically any kind of blood, Malleus has to drink the blood of mortals. And even amongst them, he has a preference for blood type.

Lilia

Lilia is one of the oldest vampire-spawn in the world. Perhaps the oldest. He is almost two millennia old at this point. And he watched the last Draconia fall seven centuries ago. He was turned by Malleus' mother, Maleanor.

Though in a way, because of it, Lilia blames himself for her death. Maleanor could be killed because she had turned Lilia. Pureblooded vampires can still be killed after they have turned someone. Because it is, in essence, giving away a part of their power to another. If that turned vampire dies, all that power returns to the born vampire. But the same is also true in reverse— at least to some extent.

So, while he isn't as powerful as a born vampire like Malleus, he is very close to it.

With Lillia being so close to many mortals' stereotyped view of vampires, he often 'jokes' about being a vampire with people he runs into at the concerts he goes to.

He's the one of the 'old vampire guard' to be the most open to potentially positive interaction with mortals. It took time, especially considering mortals in the past hunted his closest friends and their families to their deaths. It took raising Malleus, and later Silver, for him to realize— as he, through them, realized just how innocent children are, and their parents' actions have nothing to do with them— that the current generation of mortals shouldn't be blamed for what their ancestors did.

As the mass hysteric fear of vampires has long since died out, and the vampires known to be living in the Coral Sea aren't viewed with as much hostility as vampires were back in in his day, he has hope that things can change.

And speaking of the old days...

Back when he was a fledgling, it was considered a massive honor to be a turned vampire. That meant you were considered someone trusted by a born vampire— born vampires had naturally risen to the top of the hierarchy at the time due to their sheer power when compared to other species of fae. Because a born vampire turning you still meant that you now had the power to kill them. It was a mark of close frienship, that the born vampire trusted you enough to share their power and near immortality with you, and to be vulnerable because of you.

There was no such thing as 'accidentally created' turned vampires, as born vampires possessed much greater control of their venom.

Also! Vampires are just one species of fae, which in this AU I have decided are rolled together of the in-game races which Malleus and his mother and grandmother, Baul and Raverne were.

Other types of fae, like the fairies who take over the NRC Greenhouse in the Fairy Gala event, as well as the dwarves from RSA, are still fae, but not vampires.

Silver

Silver is the last in an old lineage of vampire hunters. Think, the Belmonts, from the Castlevania series.

The lineage was believed to have been wiped out when Malleus' mother died, taking all known members of the family with her before she succumbed.

He's around 5 years younger than Sebek, at least physically speaking. Because, just like the 'didn't drink the last drop of poison' metaphor I used in Idia's part, Silver was somehow grazed by a vampire as a baby.

But instead of doing what it did to either Idia or Ortho, it just put him in the same death-like sleep as Ortho, however for much, much longer; hundreds of years. Though as he was a baby, he never noticed any of that time passing. And as stated in Ortho's part, as turning children just isn't done, no one is sure why such strange things do happen in the rare cases it's attempted.

And miraculously enough, he somehow managed to fight off the sickness that would have turned him.

It's unclear if this means he's now immune to whatever pathogen turns one into a vampire or not. Silver hopes that isn't the case; he wants to become a vampire when he's fully grown, so that he can have more time to spend with his family, who are all vampires— not to mention more power to protect them.

Lilia wants to continue the tradition from his youth, of turned vampires being highly respected due to the close bond with a born vampire— Briar Valley's rulers— that it implies.

Sebek

Sebek is one of the few half-vampires to ever exist.

Or, well, his mother is a half-vampire. He is thus 1/3d vampire. In terms of power, it's about on-par with a turned vampire.

But he, Sebek, of the once proud Zigvolt vampire lineage, is nothing like those fledglings. He was born a vampire, after all.

The day Silver is turned is one he fears subconsciously. For what would it mean, for a mere human, to come to be considered on par with the great Lilia? Sebek obviously knows Lilia wasn't born a vampire— he was turned. But he is old…ancient, even. He was there with the Draconias during the fall of their society. Not to mention And in a way…him not being a born vampire, yet still having so much status in what remain of the vampire courts of old, gives him hope that he, too, might one day be considered great. Not a 'half-spawn', who, he once heard his mother recount from the words of his great-grandfather, 'doomed the race.'

Oh yeah Baul is Sebek's mother's grandfather in this AU. Baul's child had Sebek's mother with a human, and she, in turn, had Sebek with a human father. I had to make it fit with the timeline while also keeping Baul as fully vampire. I don't make the rules (I literally do—)

But at that point, if his mother HAD had a child with another born vampire— before all but Malleus remained— it would probably have ended with a lot of inbreeding to try to keep their vampire blood 'pure'.

"Perhaps," Lilia had once suggested to him, "the born vampires of old's unwillingness to have children with humans is part of the reason why they have been all but wiped out. You only exist because you mother, and your mother's parent, made an exception to that widely excepted rule."

Sebek wasn't— and still isn't— quite ready to accept that yet. He grew up glorifying the old days of vampire-kind, rather than Malleus who simply wished to collect and preserve any knowledge left behind to know something, anything, of his ancestors. Sebek idealized it as what he should be.

[hellokirian]

Guests

"Why would anyone pass up an opportunity to travel with the city! It's much faster than sea routes. And yet I almost had to drag you here." "You keep forgetting that the cost of staying here is quite high." "By your standards," the man with a prominent belly sipped his drink, eyeing the rich color of the wine. Blood of the Fathers. He had to know how they made this wine. It was the same fruit his company sold, yet the product was so different. Translucent, yet rich in both color and taste. "By our standards. You're the one paying for my trip as well. Though I'd agree that traveling within the city is much safer than by the sea." The rough man tightened his grip around the hilt of his dagger. Old habits die hard. "But the city is buzzing with tension. You should agree with that at least, Imar." "Bah, of course! The entire region fell. Be glad we got the traveling bracelets before it happened." Suni rolled his sleeve and looked at the bracelet. Compared to his onyx skin, its silver rim looked almost as if it emitted a soft light.

Someone touched his shoulder. He stood up quickly, his hand on his dagger, unsheathing it just a little. "You, both. Show me your traveling permit."

A man in expensive clothes approached, looking every bit like a noble ready for court. Imar didn’t flinch as the man asked for their traveling permits, while Suni’s hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his dagger. Imar calmly rolled up his sleeve and revealed the silver bracelet around his arm. Suni glanced at Imar, then back at the man, and did the same.

The well-dressed man raised his sword in its sheath, and Suni’s muscles tensed. But the man gently tapped Suni's bracelet with the tip of the hilt. A strange chime rang out. He did the same with Imar's bracelet. The sound was identical. "Have a pleasant stay, oh guests of Immortalis." The man touched his forehead with his fist and left.

"Was that a local noble?" Suni was still watching the man leave, gripping the dagger under his wide belt. "No, Suni, that is just a local guard. Lowest rank, I think. Patrol duty is pretty boring, so they like to pick on foreigners." "Lowest? He’s dressed better than you!" Suni exclaimed, his eyes following the man as he sat back down, shaking his head in disbelief.

The day was nice—warm, with a pleasant breeze—but there weren’t many people in this small… what did they call it? Tavern? No, they called it something else. Wineyard?

"Even local beggars are dressed better than me, Suni." Imar looked at his escort with mild disdain. He definitely needed better manners, but Suni was the best guard he could afford. "Please go talk with the owner of this establishment and ask if he will sell me several bottles of this wine. Be nice to him." Suni nodded and left.

I need to know how they make such clear wine, Imar thought. Their cheapest is better than our best. But then again, the city of Immortalis is rarely generous with its secrets. He sipped the cheapest wine once again, marvelling at the taste. I haven’t drunk anything better before.

----

Story by: me (worldbuilding for a game in development)

Art by: https://www.artstation.com/sylvain_aublin that helped with early art for the game

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Knight of Dreams.

He pledged to see his father off with a smile. That last wish, he could not fulfill.

This isn’t the happy ending he wanted—open your eyes.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

He wakes to the woods.

Silver automatically recognizes his surroundings. He'd laid out at the base of a great oak, planted right in the center of a lush forest glen. Sunlight filters through the leaves, granting the place an ethereal glow.

A stream threads around a cottage with a roof of straw, shuttered windows open and smiling at him. Where the water rounds at a bend, there's an arched bridge that leads to a path winding up to the cottage. It's picturesque and cozy, an illustration right out of a fairy tale.

It's home.

Silver rubs at his eyes, dispelling the remaining shreds of his drowsiness.

I must have dozed off again. Father must be worried.

He stands, dusting himself off. There's a few blades of grass clinging to his clothes, some petals coming loose. As he runs his hands over fabric, they snag upon something small and hard in the pocket of his pants.

"Huh? What is this...?"

Silver's voice trails off as he fishes out the object. It's a chunky ring in the shape of a crown, which hangs off of a golden chain. Embedded into the ring are many small, clear jewels. In the center is a large gemstone--and when it catches the sunlight, it refracts the colors of the rainbow.

A dull pain starts in the back of his head. He frowns, gently rubbing at the spot to soothe it.

Strange. I don't recall owning something like this. Did I find it lost in the forest?

For reasons unknown to him, the vague image of a smiling man is conjured. The owner? He gropes around in his foggy memories, but comes up with no answer.

Even so, his fingers close protectively around the bauble.

"Silver!"

He looks up, finding his father in the doorway. Lilia wears a shamelessly frilled apron, KISS THE COOK emblazoned upon his chest. The fae happily waves for his son to approach, and his heart melts.

Silver jogs up the path, barely breaking a sweat when he arrives on the porch. "Father."

"Silly boy, you're going to be late for your own birthday party," Lilia teases, lightly booping him on the nose. "Well, come on in! Everything's just about ready."

Silver curiously peers inside. The cottage is clean and neat--a rarity when left alone with his father, though Silver suspects he must have enchanted a broom to do the tidying.

It seems that his father has been hard at work in the kitchen, whipping up many of his... signature dishes which radiate a noxious aura. The most edible looking thing on their tiny dining table is a tiered vanilla cake with 18 candles stabbed into it. It's leaning over, blue frosting dribbling down its sides.

Tucked in one corner of the room is a fine suit on a mannequin, stitched together in shades of pink, blue, and green. Silver raises a brow at his father, who shrugs.

"I couldn't decide on just one color!" Lilia admits.

"You didn't have to go out of your way for all of this."

"Oh, but I wanted to," his father insists, giving him a quick hug. He pulls back, but keeps his hands on Silver's shoulders. "After all, this birthday is a very special one: you're finally considered an adult."

An... adult?

There it is again, that throbbing pain. It comes stronger this time, blinking in and out like a warning light.

Silver grimaces, bringing a hand to his forehead.

Lilia frowns. "Oh dear, are you still half asleep? Maybe you ought to sit down. We can't have you feeling unwell, especially before Malleus and Sebek get here."

"Yes, I think I'll do that," Silver agrees. "I apologize for the trouble. I feel like I haven't been myself lately. Like something is... wrong."

"I didn't realize you were so anxious about aging!" Lilia jokes, steering him over to an open chair. As soon as Silver is safely seated, Lilia goes in for an aggressive ruffle of his hair. "Chin up, m'boy! There is no shame in maturing. Why, I've raised you to be an upstanding young man if I do say so myself! You've got nothing to worry about."

Silver attempts a smile. "Of course."

His clutch on the ring and its chain instinctively tightens.

Lilia notices. "What's that you've got there? You're clenching your fist rather hard."

"Oh, this..." Silver unfurls his fingers. As soon as Lilia lays his eyes upon the piece of jewelry, a shadow passes over his expression, clouding it.

"Where did you find that?" he asks softly. Lilia leans over, a hand hovering, as if preparing to snatch it up. "You weren't supposed to receive this yet. Here, give it back to--"

"NO!!"

Silver says it louder than he means to, startling his father. His body turns from him and toward the ring, intent on guarding it. He doesn't know why--but everything in him is screaming that he must not let it be taken away.

Lilia stops, then shakes his head. "... It's fine. You were going to be gifted it sooner or later."

"You know what it is?" Silver remains alert, still shielding the ring.

"It's your birthday present, from me to you. I've been saving up for quite a while to afford it for you--I wanted it to be a big surprise," Lilia pouts. "Ah, but in the end... I suppose it doesn't matter what the method of delivery is, so long as you're still happy with it."

Silver's brows crease. Something about the comfortable narrative does not quite roll of the tongue smoothly.

A present from his father...

He stares down at the large gem laid in the center of the ring. It's facets twinkle, pink and blue and purple. Just like his eyes.

My... eyes?

A buzzing sound rings in his ears. His father's deep voice rises up through the white noise.

"It must be what your parents wished for. That their child's eyes may remain like this jewel, clear and unclouded... It suits you, Silver."

That is...

Silver sits up straight.

All at once, everything looks different. The world, shifted, and the glowing filter over his lens, gone. This house is not his home, and this man is not his father.

"Hm? Why are you staring at me like that, Silver?" Lilia giggles. "Don't tell me you're daydreaming again."

"... No. No, it's not that."

Silver's eyes flick to the door. It seems so far away.

"I... just remembered something. I forgot to greet the bluebirds." His stomach sinks as he speaks the lie into existence.

"Oh? That's not like you. You're becoming forgetful at age 18!"

Silver nods. "I won't have the time to speak with them once the party begins. May I quickly go to them?"

"Oh my, you're heading out already? So eager to leave the nest."

"... Yes. But please don't worry about me." Silver closes a hand around Lilia's and squeezes. Even if this is all fake, a facsimile, it's still very much the face of his father he is gazing into. He offers reassurance. "I'll be back soon."

"Kufufu. Alright." Lilia squeezes in return. "I'll be waiting then. Don't be late now."

Silver heads for the door.

At the threshold, he looks back one last time. At this, the happy ending crafted for him. A quaint little cottage in the woods, where he would spend the rest of his days with his beloved family.

But it's not what Lilia would have wanted for him. For everyone.

Silver painfully looks away. "Farewell, father. I promise... I will see you again."

Out there. In the real world.

He shuts the door, putting the dream behind him. Silver takes a deep breath.

"Those I've met and will someday... Meet in a Dream."

And then he is gone.

[kydrogendragon]

Dec 21 - The Best Present

(Ao3 Link) (Masterpost Link)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Murder, and Blood.

When Hob awoke that next morning, nothing had seemed different. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary Monday morning that he wouldn’t have blinked twice at. You know, if it wasn’t for a mysterious woman sitting on his kitchen counter, slowly picking away at one of the apples in his fruit basket.

He jumps, reaching for the closest object he could use as a weapon - the table side lamp in this case - and brandishes it with a confidence that only someone who had fought for most of his five hundred years of life could. The woman doesn’t even blink. She wears all black, a simple black tee, black jeans, and a pair of high-heeled black boots. It reminds him a bit of the getups the goths he’d take home with him would wear. Most interesting of all, she wears a pendant of a large silver ankh around her neck.

She looks at him with kind brown eyes and smiles. “Hello Hob.” And if everything else hadn’t gotten his attention, that statement did. He lifts the lamp higher, angling his legs for better stability and glances around the room, trying to spot how the hell she managed to sneak in.

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The woman shakes her head, amused, as she slides off the counter. She sets down the half eaten apple and wipes her hands on her pants. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“A favor?”

She hums. “Yes. And it wasn’t until last night that I could ask it.”

Hob shakes his head. “The hell are you talking about?”

The woman steps forward and Hob’s grip on the lamp tightens. “One more step and you’ll regret it.” She smiles and takes a single step forward. As she does, Hob goes to lunge but stops as he meets her gaze.

Ice rushes through his veins as the very core of him recognizes her for what she is. She is the face he has seen in battlefields and hospitals. She is the voice that has called to him while he rests in the in-between of life and death. She is the sound of wings when one is near the end.

She is Death.

His knees give out and he falls to the floor, the lamp drops from his grip and the bulb inside shatters. “No. No no no no no, please no, please!” He pleads. “I’m not ready yet. I don’t want to die. I won’t, I won’t!”

Death kneels beside him and stretches out a hand. He flinches, eyeing it carefully. “I’m not here to take you, Hob. Not unless you want me to.”

“Never,” he replies, staring into her gaze. She nods.

“Good. I think my brother would hate me if I did.”

At that, Hob blinks. “Brother?”

Death hums and lets her hand fall. She crosses them, resting them atop her bent knees as she talks. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. I need you to help free him.”

Hob shifts, pulling himself into a cross legged position. “Why me?”

She looks up and sighs. “Because I can’t. Where he is is somewhere that I can’t go. Not completely. But you can.” She looks back at him and grins. “Besides, technically he asked for you.”

A sinking feeling fills Hob’s gut. Flickers of memories of a dream echo in his mind. The pale face of his Stranger. His tears, his silent pleas. His throat is tight when he asks, “Your brother, who is he?”

“Your stranger.”

The snow falls on the ground outside of Fawney Rig. It’s Christmas Eve in 1991 and Hob stands in front of the car’s boot as he goes over his tools of trade. A crowbar rests on one side, sandwiched by rope, an axe, a shotgun and two different handguns along with enough ammo to light the place up if needed. He’s got a variety of clothes and food and water in case his Stranger needed it along with a well supplied first aid kit. When Death had told him where to find her brother, she hadn’t exactly told him what to expect. He’s honestly unsure if she knew, other than he was trapped.

Christ, wasn’t that a thought? His Stranger, trapped. Held prisoner by a total jackass that, most annoyingly, he’d met before. Just once when he was a lad. His father had been leagues worse, but had at least hosted a party for his departed son. Hob had fought with Randal in the war. After digging into the Burgess's more, he’d found that the old man had bragged about capturing Death. Clearly that hadn’t worked, but it seems like he had caught something. And when the old man finally passed, it seemed like his son wasn’t any better. Pity. The boy seemed like he could have had a good heart in him. Nature versus Nurture, he supposed.

Hob pulls the mask down his face and zips up his jacket. He sticks the two handguns with freshly loaded mags into his holsters. He slots the extra mags into his belt and then swings the shotgun across his back. Not the most efficient weapon for this job, but might come in handy. The rest, he figures he can always come out and grab later if needed. There wouldn’t be anyone left alive in here after he was done anyways.

Closing the lid, he climbs back into the driver’s seat and revs up the engine. The metal gates in front looked thicker than they actually were. He’d checked ahead of time. They were made to look nice but not necessarily be effective at keeping someone out. For instance, ramming through them with a car would be pretty easy. Which is what he planned to do.

Back the car up a good distance on the curly driveway, he holds the gas and brake down, letting his wheels spin before he releases the brake. The car lunges forward, gaining speed rapidly. With a crash, the gates are flung open by the sturdy metal body of the vehicle. Hob powers up the remaining driveway to the front of the house. He skids to a stop right at the front of the manor and bounces out of the car.

A guard is posted outside and jolts awake from his chair. He reaches for his gun but is too slow. Hob quickly draws his right side handgun and pops the man twice. The silencer muffles the sound of the shot as the bullets hit him straight in the chest. Blood pools through the dark uniform. He falls to the ground.

Hob dashes up the stairs and pats the man down. He was hoping for keys or a radio perhaps of which he finds both. There aren’t many keys on the ring, but he takes them anyways. One most likely opens the front door after all. He slots the radio onto his belt and proceeds to go through the keys until one clicks the door open.

The house is quiet. It is late at night after all and all the house staff should be gone at this hour. Hob wasn’t a complete monster. He doubts that the maids and cooks were onto any of the occult proceedings here and if they were, well. Hob has ways of tracking people down if he needs to.

He creeps forward, gun poised and ready as he rounds the corners. The main floor is relatively empty. There was a single guard that had been wandering the halls. Hob takes him out from behind and guides his body to the ground as to not make a sound. There’s a different key on this guard’s key ring. It’s thick and sturdy. More importantly, it looks old. He takes it.

Hob finds a sturdy metal door down the next hallway - probably where the guard had come from in the first place - and tests the handle. Locked, unsurprisingly. He holds up the newly acquired key and smiles. Yes, that’ll work. As tempted as he is to barge down there and free his friend immediately, he knows he needs to eliminate anyone else first so they can escape without worry. Pocketing the key once more, he continues his search through the house.

The second floor provides even less interest. No guards and no Alexander or Paul either. The third floor, however, that’s a different tale.

Hob pops the guard stationed outside of the bedroom. The man had been sleeping in the chair just outside. For all the wealth that Burgess had, it seems like it was wasted on paying these men.

He nudges the bedroom door open and is met with the sleeping figures of the elderly men who had kept his friend captive all these years. Rage burns within him as it has for the past six months since Death first dropped by. He’d gone off of the limited information she had and slowly pieced together a harrowing puzzle of his friend’s absence. 1916 brought with it the sleepy sickness. 1916 brought Burgess into fame and fortune as his claims of the Devil in his Basement were spread, mostly with doubt. In 1916 his friend was forcibly ripped from whatever reality he resides in and has been kept in this dusty old manor ever since. And it was all because of the men here and his father before him.

Hob feels no guilt nor sadness when he draws his other gun, a revolver he’s favored for many years, and presses the cool barrel against Alexander’s forehead. The man stirs and Hob pulls back the lever with a click. His eyes open wide and he shakes as he takes in Hob’s looming figure. Alexander opens his mouth to speak but Hob just shakes his head. The other man’s jaw clamps shut.

“There is no bargaining. There is no begging. You’re going to die tonight and I’m going to tell you why. Then, I’m going to kill your husband in his sleep because while he wasn’t directly related to all of this, he was complacent, so I’ll give him the same courtesy I did the guards. Once that’s done, I’m dragging you out of your bed and into the damn basement that you’re holding my friend captive. You will scream and cry and plead like the pathetic excuse for a man I know you are while I slit your throat in front of him and the last thing you’ll see will be the greatest mistake of your miserable little life.”

Unsurprisingly, Alexander screams. The figure beside his shifts and Hob lifts the barrel of his gun up and fires it straight into the other man’s skull. The movement stills.

Hob holsters his gun and pulls the frail man from his bed by his hair as he continues to scream. He drags his body across the floor and out of the room. He drags him through the growing pool of blood from the guard stationed outside of their room and chucks him down the stairs just for the fun of it. Hob clambers down the stairs as Alexander cries and tries in vain to pull himself across the floor away from his own personal reaper. Reaching down, he grabs a fistful of the man’s nightgown and continues their trek to the basement.

The key fits like a glove and Hob pulls open the ancient heavy door. Alexander pleads with him, begging Hob to stop this, that he doesn’t know what he’s doing or what he’s freeing. He’s wrong, of course. Hob knows exactly who he’s freeing. He’s freeing his friend, even if the other man didn’t want to admit it.

The basement is cold. Much colder than the rest of the house and upon entering the windowless room, he’s pretty sure a part of that has to do with the bloody pools of water that surround...

Jesus wept... Hob wishes he could revive everyone just so he could kill them again. His Stranger sits in a damn ball of glass, suspended over the floor and worst of all, they’ve striped him down bare. There are metal spikes inside the fucking thing too so the poor sod can’t even lie down if he wanted. A flood of rage hits him again like a hammer. He barely processes his actions as he shoots the two guards to their right dead. He barely hears Alexanders screams and cries. Adrenaline courses through him as he approaches his friend.

His Stranger stands, hunched over because of course the damn thing is too short for him to even stand fully. His hands are pressed against the glass and his eyes are open wide. He mouths his name as a single tear falls down his face.

Hob jerks Alexander’s body forward, pushing him into a kneeling position, holding the man’s weak body up by his hair. He reaches down and pulls out the blade in his boot and presses it against the man’s neck, all the while, staring up at his friend.

“You made a mistake, Burgess. Your father made a grave one many years ago but he’s dead and unfortunately, I can’t kill a dead guy, much as I’d like to. But you didn’t do a damn thing. So now, I get to kill you.” Hob says, pressing the blade a bit harder. The skin underneath begins to break. Not enough to kill the man. It’s closer to that of a shaving cut, but it makes the man beneath him struggle against his hold.

“Please! Please, I beg of you, don’t do this! I didn’t want this!” Alexander pleads. “Please, I wanted to let him go, I did! I just wanted to be sure he wouldn’t come after me and Paul. Oh God, oh Paul.”

His Stranger’s eyes burn into him, those bright blue eyes seem to be lit from within as he watches intensely.

“But you didn’t let him go, did you? You didn’t do anything. You just left him here to rot. And you would have continued to do so until you died, wouldn’t you?” Hob’s voice is cold as steel as he tugs on the man’s hair.

“Oh God, no, please. I swear I never wanted any of this! This is all my father!”

“No. No these past few decades have all been you. You can’t blame your sins on a dead man. Not anymore. So now you’ll pay the price for trapping my friend down here like a goddamn curiosity display.”

“Please no! Plea-” The man’s cries are drowned out by the gurgling of blood as Hob swiftly slices through the man’s neck.

“A gift,” he says, staring up at his friend. “For you.” Hob tosses the man’s body off to the side. Blood pools up, spilling over his chest from the wound and out of his mouth. His eyes are wide with fear as he falls down to the side. His hands press against the slash, but it’s hopeless. It doesn’t take long for his movement to still.

Hob watches it. As Alexander Burgess dies on the cold concrete, the rage in Hob’s body fades with it, replaced with sadness and exhaustion. He turns to his friend who watches him, his mouth parted, almost in awe. He steps forward and examines the cage. There are some sort of runes painted into the floor that he assumes are important. He scratches his heel against them, testing their resilience only to be met with the easy smearing of golden paint.

Pathetic, Hob thinks to himself. They couldn’t even get high quality paint. He doesn’t have much time to think much else as he’s suddenly tossed backwards by a force stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. It was as if a bomb had gone off inside the cage and, looking up, he wonders if it did. The glass is party shattered and a whirlwind of… something, Hob’s honestly not sure what. Magical clouds? Sure, magical clouds. They swirl around his friend as he steps out of the cage, flowing black robes forming around his body as he sets foot on the ground. He steps forward and the clouds fade until it is just him, his friend, and the carnage around them.

Hob stumbles up to his feet and smiles as he walks over to his Stranger. He goes to ask if he needs anything, but he’s beaten to it.

“Hob Gadling,” His friend says with an easier smile than he’s ever seen on the man’s face. “You came. I did not think...”

“I’d always come for you. Especially if you need me.”

His friend’s eyes are red with the threat of tears. “How did you find me? I could not speak in your dream.”

“Your sister helped.” His friend’s eyes widened.

“My sister.”

“Yeah,” he says, adjusting his jacket from where it had gotten blown out of sorts from the magic blast. “Apparently something with that dream I had the other night let her ask me for help? She didn’t really explain, or give me all that much information, honestly, but she had given me the name Burgess. Took a bit to figure out where you were and get what I needed, but I wasn’t about to let you sit down here another day longer if I could help it.”

A tear falls down his friend’s cheek. “I owe you a great debt, Hob Gadling.”

“No debt owed. It’s what friends do after all,” he says, looking down at his blood stained boots.

A hand tugs him close and suddenly he is nearly nose to nose with his friend. There is an expression on his face, one that Hob can’t quite parse. “You would still name me friend after all you had said to me?”

“Wha-”

“You promised to woo me, after all. Was this not simply the start of it? Rescuing me like a blushing maiden in a fairy tale? Spilling blood in my name like a loyal knight to his king?” His friend purred. His eyes were hooded as he stared down into Hob’s eyes. He can see a dart of his pink tongue in his peripheral and Hob can feel the quickly growing erection pressing against the thick denim of his jeans. He’s glad his friend is holding onto him because he’s pretty sure if he hears his friend say another word with that voice, his knees are going to give out on him.

“Would you like that?” He asks, his breath growing short as his friend looks at him like he’d like to devour him. Hob swallows. “I would, you know. I did. I’d kill more for you, if you’d like. Whatever you want. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Such a wonderful gift, but a dangerous thing to promise. Are you certain?”

“Always,” he pants. His friend’s eyes flash, the blue swirling into blackness as he leans forward.

Lips capture his own and they are just as soft as he remembers from his dream. Oh God, yeah, his knees are giving out. Between the adrenaline of this whole evening and the magical bomb blast thing, this, right here, this is what’s going to have him killed.

He moans into his friend’s mouth and shakily grips into the silky robes he wears as he feels a smooth tongue curl inside of him. He’s not sure how long they stay there, but it’s long enough that Hob’s vision is turning black from the lack of air. Wouldn’t be the worst way to go, honestly. And he’s tempted to let it when his friend pulls back, but not far. Just far enough that Hob can take in a gasp of air.

“Fuck,” he wheezes as he struggles to maintain balance.

“That can be arranged,” his friend hums. Maybe Hob had died and this was actually heaven.

He hears his friend sigh, the air caressing his face. “I must return to my realm. It has been absent far too long.” His friend releases his hold on Hob and he mentally pats himself on the back for only stumbling, not collapsing. The upward curl of his friend’s lips sends Hob’s heart soaring again.

“Right,” he says as his brain comes back online. “Uh. Do you… need a lift anywhere? Not sure I can drive to another realm, but I can get you out of this town at least.”

His friend shakes his head and tilts his head upward. His eyes dart around as if he’s searching for something unseen. “No,” he says, smiling a moment later. “No, I have found a means to return. But I will come back to you soon, Hob Gadling. This, I swear.”

His friend’s eyes are pitch black when they meet Hob’s gaze once more. It sends a chill down his spine and does nothing to help his aching prick. “Wait!” He calls out as his friend raises his hand. His Stranger arches his brow, but pauses his movement. “Before you leave, can I know your name, at least?”

His Stranger blinks. “My sister did not tell you it?”

Hob shakes his head. “Said it was your secret to tell, not hers.”

His Stranger huffs affectionately and raises his hand upward. With a smile, he says, “You may call me Dream.”

“Dream,” Hob whispers as he watches the figure of his friend fade away, not unlike the memory of a dream. He stands there, letting the mixed cocktail of emotions flow through him. Eventually, he moves, going through the motions of disposing of a crime scene (at least any evidence that would tie himself to it). Once all the damning bits are properly disposed of or at least brought with him to dispose of later, he makes his way back up the stairs, into his car, and heads back home, eagerly awaiting when his Stran- no - when Dream would visit him again.

[lovelytsunoda]

love, actually | robert 'bob' floyd

summary: recently appointed admiral robert floyd feels overwhelmed in his new position, and unprepared to fill the shoes of the late admiral thomas kazansky. when he inherts the job, he also inherits tom's old secretary. cue the romance. inspired by hugh grant's storyline in love, actually

pairing: admiral!bob floyd x secretary!reader

warnings: mentions of death and greif was she secretly in love with that old man (because same) we may never know! mentions of addiction (but not with our two main characters!), can be considered to be a minor part of the heather and tommy universe (see 'tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world)!) so many navy inaccuracies it would make a real admiral's head spin, professionalism simply does not exist in the pacific fleet

the office was barren, devoid of the remarkable life that had once occupied it. the large oak desk that had once held family photos and love notes from the admiral's wife was now empty, save for the top of the line desktop computer. admiral kazansky's wife and kids had been by earlier in the week to collect his things. bob hadn't been there, but he'd heard from natasha that it wasn't a pretty sight. she said that heather kazansky looked frail, and slightly lost without her husband of thirty years by her side. tom was her soulmate, and she'd gone through the pain of watching him die slowly.

cancer was a bitch.

this wasn't how he had wanted to come in to the job. although it was no doubt that he was the best man to lead the pacific fleet (and with an endorsement from maverick mitchell, nobody was going to question his appointment.), he was now wondering if he was really ready.

"admiral floyd?"

bob turned around. standing in the doorway in a skirt that was certainly not navy issued, was a tall young woman with round glasses and soft features. she wore no makeup save for the mascara on her eyelashes.

"hi, i'm y/n. i was admiral kazansky's secretary. and, i suppose, i'm now yours." her voice was soft and gentle, like music to bob's ears. "i brought your welcome packet and agenda for the day."

"admiral robert floyd." he stuck his hand out for her to shake, ignoring how clammy his palms suddenly seemed to feel. "but please, call me bob."

"that's your callsign, right? does it mean anything?"

bob rolled his eyes. "baby on board. they call me that because of my youthful appearance."

she laughed briefly, a cheerful and somewhat abrupt sound, before she looked at the empty office, her face falling again. "he was a good man."

"he was." bob agreed somberly.

"i loved that old man, i really did."

for a second, bob felt like something had tripped in his brain. she loved him? it seemed so cliche when he thought about it, but weren't cliches there for a reason? the pretty young secretary with the silver fox admiral. but what about heather? and his kids? he'd been married to heather since 1987, and from what bob knew of the admiral, he was an honorable man in all aspects of life.

this confusion must have shown on bob's face, because the secretary simply laughed, turning to face him with her arms crossed over her baby blue blouse.

"like a father, admiral. admiral kazansky and i were never involved. he was a family man. i'm the same age as his middle child." she didn't know why she was spitting out words like this. divulging too much information would be unprofessional and- "i actually used to go out with his eldest son when i first started working here. i was young and dumb and mitchell kazansky was a few years older and smooth talking. and then i broke up with him and he went to rehab. he's doing good now. he got married four years ago, i think. i've met his wife, she's a sweet girl." stop. fucking. talking. y/n.

in truth, bob only caught half of the word vomit. he was too preoccupied with the way her eyes sparkled behind her glasses, and the way her crossed arms accidentally pushed up her cleavage. she was totally wearing a push up bra. jake and bradley could probably even accurately guess her boob size. bob couldn't, but didn't need to to wonder what it would be like to rest his head against them, feeling her arms wrap around his tired frame.

"anyways." she exhaled, cheeks rosy with embarrassment. "i'll let you settle in. just so you know, your friday meeting with the commanders got moved up. it's nothing to worry about. come find me at lunch and i'll give you the brief. i used to make them for tom all the time, especially when he got sick."

"thank you." bob said graciously. "i really appreciate it. would you actually mind staying with me during the meeting? just to make sure i don't put my foot in my mouth."

she smiled, passing him a file folder. "of course, admiral. i'd love to."

the afternoon meeting came faster than bob would have wanted, and he was still struggling to make heads or tails of half the reports that his secretary had left on his desk. having a meeting this soon into his tenure seemed unusual, and for a moment he wondered about the severity of the content being discussed.

of course, he couldn't worry for long. through the panes of glass in the office doors, he could see y/n out at her desk, applying a thin layer of chapstick while she waited on hold with someone. her desk was filled with little baubles and a few small plants were on the filing cabinet behind her.

she looked calm and carefree, unbothered. and bob was smitten. completely and totally smitten. sure, it was a workplace harassment suit waiting to happen. and yes, it was never a good idea to get involved with people at work, especially when you outranked them.

but in that moment, bob floyd simply couldn't care less. especially when she gave him a flirty little wave from behind her desk, and even more so when the collar of her shirt dipped just enough that bob could see the edge of her lacy white bra.

this woman was going to be the death of him.

"bob?" she called out, poking her head through the doorway. "the commanders are here earlier than expected. have you had a chance to look over the notes?"

fuck. he couldn't admit that he was so distracted that he forgot to read the file. "uh, about half of it?" he explained sheepishly. "it's a lot."

she flashed him an understanding smile. "if you get lost in the meeting, i can take over. i used to do it for tom all the time."

"thank you. you're a lifesaver."

she winked, backing out of the room. "you owe me one, admiral."

the commanders filed into the meeting room, gathering around the round oak table like they were king arthur's knights. bob recognized a few of them, including jake seresin. he took a seat underneath the world map that was used to plot out missions, y/n taking a seat beside him.

and bob floyd wished he was a better man because as soon as he saw that skirt slip up her plush thigh, he was a goner. he forgot why he was even in that meeting in the first place. to his credit, he did fairly well, answering questions about the transition of power in the pacific fleet, and what was going on with some current matters that had gone unfinished when the previous admiral had passed. whenever bob seemed to stutter or falter in any way, y/n jumped in to rescue him, with a well-worded response delivered in such an effortless manner that he wondered why he was the admiral and not her.

jake caught him staring, a glean of admiration in his eyes as he watched the secretary (who was one of only two women in the room, by the way) outline a budget for the coming year. the commander kicked his former platoonmate under the table, holding back a laugh. bob shot him a dirty look before redirecting his attention to y/n.

after the meeting, and after shaking hands with what felt like every commander in san diego, jake stayed behind to chat with bob, eager to 'catch up' on everything the other had missed since their assignment with maverick. but really, jake just wanted to rib his coworker about the pretty secretary.

"dude, kazansky's secretary? come on."

"jake, shut up." bob could feel his face going pink. "it would be unprofessional at best, harassment at worst. her boss just died, for god's sake!"

jake laughed, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress whites. "i'm sure that they make porno's about this kind of thing. i say go for it. you only live once, admiral."

"hangman, go fuck yourself."

there was a knock on the office door, and y/n stuck her head inside the office. "admiral floyd, commander seresin. its five, so im on my way out. if you need anything, there's a post-it with my personal number on it in your welcome packet. don't stay too late, you'll make me look bad." she grinned at bob, waving at him before ducking back out of the office again.

bob shouted after her, something along the lines of 'see you in the morning', but he couldn't hear himself think over the sound of jake's laughter.

"what!"

"dude, look below your fucking belt. you're fucked."

_______

life went on, and bob found himself settling into his role as admiral nicely. of course, he wasn't doing it alone. y/n was a massive help in meetings, and they had started tag-teaming on important topics: putting together elaborate slide presentations, models and poster boards before every meeting with the fellow admirals or the commanders. there was a meeting with the president's aide scheduled for the new year, and surprisingly, bob wasn't worried about it. he had even gone as far as to help y/n decorate the office for christmas.

every day, she showed up in a trendy, fashionable and flattering outfit that definitely went against navy regulations, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. especially not when those leather slacks of hers made him so achingly hard that he spent half of his lunch break in the private bathroom jerking off. it wasn't the good admiral's fault that his secretary was so stunningly beautiful and sweet and kind and funny and so many other things that made him wonder if it was finally time to consider finding a life partner.

the pair had started sharing their lunch breaks, and bob was enjoying getting to know her outside of the office. she was easy to talk to, and he was convinced he had never laughed as much as he had when he was with her.

and that's why he was so worried when he saw that she had put in for a transfer request.

_____

they were one week out from christmas, and the base was getting ready to send all non-essential staff home. that meant that y/n was getting a much needed break, and while bob would be considered to be 'on-call', he got to go home as well. the last meeting of the year was finished, and y/n was cleaning up the round table in the conference room when she heard hushed voices from the cracked door in bob's office.

"robert, you understand what you're getting yourself into, right? the kind of trouble you'd be opening up for her?" natasha trace's voice was low and not quite venomous, but not calm either. "don't think that people haven't figured out why you hide in the bathroom over your lunch break, bradley told me about your little crush. you can't act on it, bob. i'm sorry, but you just can't. she's your subordinate. unless one of you transfers out. no matter how much you think you'd be able to make it work, it just not possible."

"i love her, phoenix. and i don't know what to do."

"you keep your mouth shut and your dick in your pants. that's what you do."

she felt her heart grow tight in her chest. bob was in love with someone? it was probably another soldier, or a pilot. or, and she hesitated at the thought, was bob floyd falling in love with her?

she didn't know if she wanted to find out. because if she was wrong, and bob didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him, it was going to lead to a lot of heartbreak.

she put in for a transfer to another fleet later that week.

________

"what the fuck? how could this happen, phoenix? what did you say to her?"

natasha gaped at the frazzled admiral, who was pacing behind his desk. "what did i say to her? i didn't say shit, bob. she must have overheard us and gotten the wrong idea."

it was christmas eve, and bob didn't even know why he'd come into the office. he supposed it was because he wanted everything pressing to be done before the holidays, but seeing the neon blue transfer request paper on his desk had thrown him for a loop.

"i can't function without her. she keeps this office going." bob wailed, running his fingers through his hair. "i need her."

"yeah." jake snorted. "in more ways than one."

"can it, hangman." natasha scolded. "you'd have to find a really good, sound reason for denying the transfer, you know. keeping her here without one would be an abuse of power."

"you think i don't fucking know that?"

"there is another solution here." bradley bradshaw suggested, leaning against the side of the desk. "her address would be in her files, right? why don't you go and talk to her?"

actually.....that wasn't a terrible idea.

"no." natasha glared at him, almost as if she could read his mind. "that would be another glaring abuse of power. do none of you have functioning brain cells? this is psychotic."

"but it could work." bob mused, scrambling to boot up his computer. "what woman doesn't love a grand romantic gesture?"

"that's my boy." jake roared with laughter, clapping him in the shoulders. "let's make this christmas miracle happen."

bob scrambled to pull up her personnel file, scribbling a street address down in his messy cursive. "okay, okay. how do we know she's home? i mean, it's christmas eve. she could be with family, or with friends-"

"trust your gut, admiral." jake encouraged. "rooster, grab the keys to the bronco!"

"i'm surrounded by idiots!" natasha cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "why am i even here?"

there was a fleeting sense of nostalgia as the former dagger squad members piled into rooster's sleek black bronco. it was cold for california, albeit the lake of snow on the ground. a strong wind was coming in off the ocean, pushing the bronco closer to y/n's house. bob was jittery, working his way through everything he wanted to say.

because how did he tell a woman that he loved her without even having gone out with her yet?

"alright, take a left at this next set of lights, and then a left at the stop sign after that." jake instructed, reading directions off of his phone. rooster was going at least ten over the speed limit, and natasha was praying that there were no police officers around.

"that's her house!" bob shouted, jumping to attention in the backseat. "the one with the the three volkswagens in the driveway. she still lives with her parents, the whole family drives german cars. i remember her bringing it up over lunch one day."

the bronco skidded to a stop in the middle of the road, forced to slow abruptly when bob threw his door open. natasha chased him out of the car, followed up by jake while bradley worried about where to park on the unforgivingly small street.

bob ran up the driveway, in between an suv and a sport model jetta before practically launching himself at the doorbell.

"y/n?" he called, ringing the bell. "its admiral floyd! can we talk for a minute?"

"she cant hear you, dipshit." jake reminded gently. "just wait for her to answer the door."

the front door crept open, y/n standing nervously behind it in a christmas sweater and jeans. on her feet where two large slippers that looked like reindeer heads.

"admiral floyd? what are you doing here?"

"please don't transfer." bob pleaded, the words coming out in a single breath. "i don't know what i would do without you. you consume my every waking thought, every breath. these past few months working with you have been the most rewarding months of my career and i know how selfish it must sound of me to beg you not to go, but the truth is that i've fallen in love with you, y/n y/l/n. and i can't let you leave the fleet without making sure that you know that."

she stood frozen in the doorway for a minute before a wide smile broke out over her face. "come here you big doofus."

she stepped out onto the front porch, grabbing bob by the lapels of his tommy hilfiger trench coat and pulled him in for a kiss. his eyes widened in shock before he leaned into it, arms settling to hold her protectively.

"i put in the transfer request so you could ask me out, admiral." she whispered, giggling slightly. "i guess it worked."

"yeah." bob breathed, leaning in to kiss her again. "i guess it did."

"god damn it!" bradely shouted, out of breath and he came up the driveway. "don't tell me i missed everything trying to find somewhere to park my fucking car?"

y/n laughed, pulling away from bob. "do you guys want to come inside? i'd feel awful making you stand out here in the cold."

jake shrugged. "why the hell not."

"cassie's here, so behave yourself." y/n warned, referring to tom kazansky's youngest, whom jake had a history of hitting on.

jake perked up. "oh, cassandra!" he called, walking into the house

"not a chance, seresin. teddy and i are still very happily married!" a voice called from within the living room.

"god damn it!"

y/n turned to look at bob. "i made a massive mistake inviting them in, didn't i?"

bob chuckled, kissing her forehead. "yeah. but i wouldn't be here without them, so cut them some slack. come on, let's go celebrate christmas."

[authortobenamedlater]

E3 deep dive, brought to you by illness and cold medicine, you are warned.

I maybe should start just doing the highs and lows of each episode, because these take forever to write and I’m not sure how interesting they are for the rest of you. I was going to do highs and lows at the end of this post but it got too long.

We open up with Silver Team going rogue at Visegrad Relay, looking for their Cobalt comrades. It’s becoming increasingly clear that not only is this mission off the books, but John hasn’t told his team this. Not great for unit cohesion, Master Chief.

The base is eerily empty and there’s a rhythmic thumping sound. The Covenant? No, just a door opening and closing. Somehow that doesn’t feel much less scary.

Instead of the Covenant, we meet a swarm of Marines led by an impressively gutsy and likely ONI officer who puts herself between Silver Team and the ominously thumping door. She accuses John of stealing a Condor and falsifying a flight plan. This is news to the rest of Silver. John doesn’t care and barges through the door expecting to find Cobalt. He finds a whole lot of nothing. This doesn’t look like a cover-up at all, nope.

Next we whiplash to Ackerson having a touching and mundane moment with his father, who’s senile but not so far gone he doesn’t know he’s senile. Evidently Ackerson has been spilling classified information to his dad. In light of everything else going on, that’s pretty far down on Ackerson’s list of misdeeds. We also learn that “Julia” the mysterious flash clone was Ackerson’s sister. Why did he clone a bunch of her for Halsey? Ackerson Sr. reminds his son “You promised not to let them [the Covenant, presumably] take me alive.” Once again, nothing ominous here.

Then we have Dadmiral Keyes dressing down his overgrown children for ripping through the UCMJ like it’s wet toilet paper. You also get the feeling Keyes is getting squeezed into this and has information he should have shared with Silver, but was ordered not to. John asks if Ackerson is behind this, and everyone knows the answer but can’t say it.

John’s team is rightly furious with him for lying to them. Kai at least tries to reason with him but John’s not hearing it. The audience knows John is right and the UNSC-ONI machine is gaslighting him into thinking he doesn’t see what he knows he’s seeing. However, he’s still being a jerk about it and turning his own people against him. He doesn’t help his case when he mops the floor with his ONI babysitters like Steve Rogers taking out the Hydra guys in The Winter Soldier elevator scene.

Laera is trying to escape the Rubble and go after Soren, only to get wrapped up in Soren’s crew’s plot to steal the “Madrigal money.” Kwan continues to prove herself both useless and useful. With Madrigal glassed now, one has to wonder what role Kwan has to play. At the same time, she’s tough and resourceful, I have to give her that. She also tries to do what’s right. She knew Laera would die and went to rescue her, probably thinking she could reunite mother and son at some point but mom has to be alive for that to happen.

Laera, too, shows herself to be more than just a pretty face, resisting Antares’s interrogation even with a gun to her head. And the part where she says “I can usually reason with my husband” 🤣 it takes a real woman to hang with Soren-066. Plus, Laera always looks fabulous! I want to look that good if I ever get shoved in an airlock.

Got ahead of myself there, but some things work best tackled as a big chunk.

Riz seems to be increasingly disenchanted with Spartan life, not that I can blame her after how John treated her last week. Never mind that she’s been in constant pain for six months. She ends up at Louis’s place where we learn he and Danilo the PT are married. Riz asks Louis what “other things” there are to be besides a Spartan. We don’t get the rest of the conversation, but it looks like Riz might be getting ready to jump ship. She may find her options more limited once Reach falls, though.

Back at the ranch, we discover what actually happened to Cobalt. They were in fact at Visegrad, and ran into the Covenant. We don’t know if this happened before or after Silver Team showed up, but it confirms what we all thought: There’s some conspiracy to keep Covenant activity on Reach under wraps.

Keyes is clearly distraught over the four (remarkably intact) bodies in the morgue. THE DADMIRAL LOVES HIS OVERGROWN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED SPARTAN CHILDREN I am not taking questions on this. The exchange between him and Ackerson here is top-tier. When Ackerson tells Keyes to leave and Keyes says “I won’t run”? I don’t think you’re going to be in season 3, Jacob.

Kai goes to Ackerson, who admires her for defending her “CO.” John isn’t her “commanding officer.” He’s not an officer. I don’t know what they’d call him, though. “Your team leader”? I won’t bug you all with nitpicking terminology. Kai is so stir crazy that she asks to be deployed alone until John is cleared for combat. This, I suspect, is how she ends up with the S-IIIs.

John takes his concerns to Parangosky, who to the surprise of no one, has not really left ONI. He tells her the Covenant is on Reach and no one is listening to him. Parangosky doesn’t give him the help he’s looking for. She tells him to go back to FLEETCOM and lay low, and she’s brought a cadre of spooks to ensure his compliance. This does not placate the increasingly agitated Master Chief.

Ackerson visits Halsey in holo-jail and gives her a speech about how she made the Spartans “fragile” by implanting those pellets. He tells her that “these things [she] made, broken as they may be” will be the foundation for something greater. I suspect this is the Spartan-III program. It’s also what Adun says to Halsey’s clone right before he kills her and dissolves her in acid.

Then the bomb drops: Julia, Ackerson’s sister, was a Spartan who died from the augmentations. Suddenly everything about Ackerson makes sense.

But the bombs aren’t done dropping. Ackerson leaves, then walks back in with none other than Soren-066. He tells Halsey “I didn’t want you to be alone” and walks out. Halsey looks legit TERRIFIED when she sees Soren.

Finally, John goes to see Talia and finds her in church. I’m going Gaga over the religious references this year, you all don’t even know. Talia has a recording of the “interference” on Sanctuary, which we find out is also a prayer offered by the Arbiter not named Thel ‘Vadam, stating his intention to offer Reach as a burnt offering and place the Demon’s head on the altar.

While Talia is translating the prayer, we see a montage that notably shows us Ackerson giving his father a pill, probably cyanide, reiterating his promise that he wouldn’t let the Covenant take his dad alive. He tells his father “I have to go away” which is the third time he’s said as much in two episodes. As he’s walking out, Ackerson brings in a final Julia clone, and his dad thinks he’s seeing his little girl one last time. A teary-eyed Ackerson walks out, and the next time we see him he’s strapped into a troop transport. Going where, we wonder?

Then an explosion shatters the church’s windows and the episode ends.

All this sets us up for…next week it’s all going down.

[rattlyglitch]

Still/ Neva Flows reprise fits with Rollo and younger Silver

Btw: Spoilers for the Masquerade Event story with kid Silver I've written

When I say it fits them I mean like some of the lyrics fit like

Anya is Silver which is bold

and Rollo is Gleb and has normal speech

Parts that are in the song will be in parentheses and singing parts will be italic whether it be normal or bold

"An underhanded girl An act of desperation And to my consternation I let you go"

Rollo is seeing his brother in Silver who has his magic now at a young age and is blaming himself for his brothers death.

"Well, not this time Paris is no place for a good and loyal Russian

We are both good and loyal Russians

I've come to take you home

My home is here now

Stop playing this game, Anya! I beg you

We both know it's not a game Gleb

If you really are Anastasia Do you think history wants you to have lived?

Yes! Why don't you?

The Romanovs were given everything And they gave back nothing Until the Russian people rose up and destroyed them

All but one Finish it I am my father's daughter

and I am my father's son

Finish it I must"

Rollo is trying to make Silver see that magic isn't a place to call home but Silver says it is and that their both magic users. Rollo asks Silver if it really was for the best that magic still lives and Silver says yes but Rollo still doesn't agree and believes magic needs to be destroyed. Silver is getting ready to defend magic as best he can.

"My father shook his head and told me not to ask My mother said he died of shame"

The shame that follows Rollo because he couldn't save his brother is almost as if it's crushing him to death.

"In me you see them"

Silver is starting to realize that Rollo sees his own brother in him

"Look at their faces in mine Hear their screams Imagine their terrors See their blood"

Silver is trying to get Rollo to see destroying the lives of people and hurting him is also bad and Rollo would be hurting him

"But I believe he did a proud and vital task. And in my father's name"

Rollo feels that way he is doing is the right thing. That the task he has set out to to do is for the best.

"Do it and I will be with my parents and my brother and sisters In that cellar in Yekaterinburg all over again"

Silver is trying to get Rollo to see that if magic is removed from mages some may die.

"The children Their voices A man makes painful choices He does what's necessary, Anya"

That is what it could have been like for Rollo when his brother died. His brother in pain and he remembers that so he's making a painful choice to get rid of his and everyone else's magic in the name of his brother and he's trying to describe his reasoning to Silver and help him understand why he's doing what he's doing and that it is for Silver's good.

"For Russia, my beauty What choice but simple duty We have a past to bury, Anya"

Russia is the name of Rollo's brother. Rollo also sees it as his duty is to get rid of magic, and he's trying to convince Silver that some way their the same and if he gets rid of everyone's magic it would be for the best and magic would be a thing of the past.

"And the Neva flows, a new wind blows

And soon it will be spring The leaves unfold, the Tsar lies cold

Be careful what a dream may bring! A revolution is a simple thing!"

Rollo is imagining the future and how what he is doing which is like a revolution was easy to accomplish and the Tsar which is magic is gone for good and once he says the line 'A revolution is a simple thing he cast a sleeping spell on Silver.

[countrymusiclover]

37 - The Night King part 1

part 38

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

Winterfell had been engulfed into darkness once my sisters Dalthraki were the first to face the army of the dead. 

Jaime was standing down on the ground with Brienne and the other men she was in charge of commanding.  The Lannister men were behind that group of fighters.  I had my hair pinned back in a braid going down my back, carrying Aegon’s dagger and my sword attached to my hip.  The caches of Wildfire were attached to Amethyst dragon saddle ready to be used if needed. 

Jon and my sister were riding her other two dragons remaining on the other side of the cattle area.   I had my small army of dragons and their riders seated behind me.  The other old Valyrian soldiers were standing directly in front of me, ready for my signal which was when I would fly up into the night sky. Jaime lifted his gaze up towards the mountain that I was perched on her dragonback.  I knew what the look on his face meant, he was just as worried as I was at this moment for we could die and never see our beautiful children ever again. 

“Mommy, why can’t we go with you?” Rhana asked while I dragged her down to the crypt where we were sending the woman and children who weren’t about to fight in this Great War. 

Jaime was standing beside our other three children Luciya, Rhaegar and Chandler.  Sparing a glance over to him I waved to my four children to gather round me. “Come here, my little dragon-lions.  I must command that you all stay down here with your Uncle Tyrion and the others.  For your own protection during this fight.” 

“But we want to fight, mother.” Rhaegar stomped his foot in the dirt ground. 

Luciya throws her arms up in the air. “We can ride dragons like you can.  Like the lords of old Valyrian.  We can help you.” 

“We are the blood of the dragon and lion.” Chandler declared with a fist raised up in the air.  The white Targaryen hair brightened in burning torch lights that hung up on the walls. 

Rhana began sniffing out some tears. “I’m scared, mommy.” 

“Oh, my sweet girl.  Shh you won’t lose your father and I.  I promise you that.” I pulled her small body up against my body.  One hand running through her messy silver hair and the other on her lower back. 

Jaime struggled to remain tough at the sight of any of his children upset over something, especially something out of his control like this battle to protect the whole realm.  

He was a former knight.  Sworn to protect the innocent and defend the weak.  The weak and innocent were none other than his true born children clinging onto the embrace of their mother before him. 

And he felt utterly powerless which was something he had never felt before in his life. 

Rhaegar, Luciya and Chandler ran over embracing me in their own type of tight hugs and sobs.  Kissing each of their heads Jaime crossed the distance lowering himself down to our level, wrapping his protective arms around us. “My children, listen to me.  You all have been tasked with the most important job of all while being down here.” 

“What is it, daddy?” Luciya raised her head up from his chest. 

Jaime tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Protect the people down here.” 

“How do we do that?” Chandler asked him, being the younger and inexperienced brother. 

My husband ruffled his son’s hair, pushing away tears that had fallen down his face when he uttered the words out. “Use your swords and your minds to the best of your abilities.” 

“My s-sword?” Chandler asked. 

Rhaegar touched his brother’s shoulder telling him in terms he’d understand. “Stick them with the pointy end, little brother.” 

The future of Westeros would be in good hands if we failed it. 

Watching the brute front force of the soldiers down below I knew I had to wait for the sigal which would be my sister flying across the battlefield first.  Then Jon, me and the other dragon riders would follow behind her.  It was a few minutes later with the full on fighting happening that I saw her silver hair in the dark sky. “Come on, Amethyst. Come on - dracarys!” My dragon shot up into the skies and we dove down from the trees finding a new section of dead men that hadn’t reached them that we easily burned alive. 

Together our army of full grown dragons did the best that we could to destroy the incoming white walkers.  But regardless there were some who still made it through us and to the fighters on the snowy ground.  Jon passed me on his dragon seconds before a heavy fog surrounded us out of nowhere. “Jon!” I cried out hearing him get thrown off by it, getting cornered by dead men on the ground.  

My gaze shifted over to Sansa and Arya in the far distance watching the older sister rush down inside the castle after they saw some of the dragons fall down.  Grabbing the saddle clip from the side of my dragon’s saddle I clipped it onto my belt so I wouldn’t fall off.  “I wish we had time to make them saddles.” I muttered to myself knowing that it wasn’t possible since most who knew how had died out with the Targaryen family. 

It only left me and the raised dragon rider lords of Sothoryos be the ones to ride dragons with saddles on their backs. 

Flying over the group of white walkers that were surrounding Jon I knew I should help him.  But the others would likely need the wildfire if we ended up cornering the Night King.   Daenerys flew towards the ground landing and burned them all with fire with Jon still holding his sword ready for an attack. “Bran!” 

“Go protect him!” She hollered down to him still seated on the dragon watching him run off. 

That was short lived when I saw some more dead coming towards her from my viewpoint above.  I attempted to get to her first but they were faster and yanked her off and onto the snow.  They began biting the dragon and surrounding her, sending me into a panic attack. “Dany!” 

The Stark Crypts - 

The dark crypts were covered in silence around the small group that was Tyrion, Sansa, Rhaegar, Luciya, Chandler and Rhana.  Varys and Missandi simply watch them silently from their corners.  Tyrion kept his eyes trained on the ceiling for quite some time till Varys gasped. “If we were up there we might see something everyone else is missing.  Something that makes a difference - what, remember the Battle of Blackwater.  I brought us through the mud gates.” 

“And got your face cut in half.” Varys mocked his dwarf friend. 

Tyrion glared at him, turning his body towards him. “I put myself in front of Vaella to keep her from dying.  And it made a difference.  If I was out there right now-“

“You’d die.” The young Sansa Stark cut him off and he curiously walked over to her. “There’s nothing you can do.” 

He picked up a flask of wine, taking a long drink. “You might be surprised by the lengths I’d go to avoid joining the Army of the Dead.  I could think of no organization less suited to my talents.”

“Witty remarks won’t make a difference.” Sansa glanced around the room at all the women and children that were down there with them. “That’s why we’re down here none of us can do anything.  It’s the truth, it’s the most heroic thing we can do now.  Look the truth in the face.” 

Tyrion focused his green eyes upon the young girl he had previously been married to. “Maybe we should have stayed married.” 

“You were the best of them.” Sansa sent him the first genuine smile he’d ever seen on the girl's face. 

He paused chuckling back at her. “What a terrifying thought.” 

“It wouldn’t work between us.” She lowered her gaze. 

The youngest Lannister couldn’t stop the question from escaping his lips. “Why not?” 

“The Dragon Queen, Daenerys.  Your divided loyalties would become a problem.” Sansa responded to his question. 

Missandei moved from her corner, walking away from them clearly annoyed. “Yes. Without the Dragon Queen, there'd be no problem at all.  We'd all be dead already.” 

“You didn’t mention Vaella.  What are your thoughts about her possibly taking the throne?” 

The she-wolf sent him a half smile. “I would stand behind her.  Simply because I’ve gotten to know her.  She doesn’t wish for the throne like your dragon queen does.  What do you think about her?” 

“She’s my friend and she’s done quite well for herself.  Finding a whole island of old Valyria houses we all believed were gone alongside multiple dragons to stand behind hers.  Her and Daenerys each have a great story to tell.” 

The stark girl raised a brow. “Would you call her the rightful queen of the seven kingdoms over Daenerys?” 

“I don’t know, possibly.  Why do you ask?” The dwarf asked the auburn hair woman. 

Sansa didn’t get to answer him before young Rhana scooted her way into their conversation with curiosity in her question. “Are you in love with Lady Sansa, Uncle Tyrion?” 

“Rhana, my dear niece.  I - I’m not sure.” He shifted his green eyes over to hers, finally uttering the words he never thought he’d say again after his bad marriage to Tysha. “Yes I think I do love her.” 

Rhana shifted her body around to Sansa. “Do you love my Uncle?” 

“I’ve never been in love, little one.  So it’s hard to say.” She blushed at her question. 

The young offspring of Vaella and Jaime Lannister smirked proudly seated between the two highborns. “You’d be cute together like my mommy and daddy.  A Stark and a Lannister, second power couple of the world.” Sansa and Tyrion just watched the young girl so innocent and probably so terrified at the same time.  And for a brief moment they started to forget what was happening above their heads.