#where it came with three different back plates that were different colors and you could swap whenever you wanted

[mothbaaalls]

if i have to get a new phone then i think i should commit and get the green one... i haven't looked at cases yet though

[sideysvault]

ೀ｡˚ Patching Deadpool up years after he left you ೀ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader

Part two here

Wordcount: 2,9k

Tags: Canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending.

────────

The rusty silver plate read in an almost playful manner “The sisters Margaret home for wayward children”. It was a colorful name, and it belonged to a not so colorful bar. That was the place where the two of you had met.

Back then, you were nothing more than a student.  Constantly struggling to manage the very limited funding given to you. All you wanted was to finish your thesis, get your master’s degree, and make it to the end of the month. Your paychecks had cornered you into the only half decent apartment you could rent: The one built in the shittiest neighborhood in town, in a building held up solely by divine grace and poor construction.

That particular night was the end of an extremely rough week. Work piled up, homesickness struck you every time you had a chance to relax and think, and you were the living proof that nobody could make any meaningful connections if you only strictly went to work and home with no rest in between.

And for Christ’s sake, you hated to admit it, but you really missed home and the crippling suspicion that you were close to breaking down was settling in.

The only logical next step you could take popped into your head just as you were walking into your neighborhood. You needed to blow off some steam. Have a drink. Or two. Or three. So, your steps seemingly redirected themselves towards that ugly bar that was close to your uglier apartment. Sure, it seemed super sketchy. But right this second, all you needed was to get a drink.

Wade was in that bar too. As he usually was. He immediately took notice of the woman who seemed clearly out of place. You looked like some kind of stuck up librarian. And it was obvious that your mood was extraordinarily dispirited. Sitting there staring at the wall with a piercing stare. Paying no mind to the environment you were in. Furrowed eyebrows adorned your face seemed concerned. Before Wade even realized what he was doing, he found himself striking a conversation with you.

He tried to reason with himself. There were no ulterior motives, no meaning behind his accretion. Wade has always had a soft spot for damsels in distress. And you were hot as fuck. Nothing else.

“What's a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?”

Strangely, that's all it took to make you laugh. The absurdity of the corny comment immediately got to you and a loud burst of laughter came out of your mouth. Wade's face softened with a certain sense of pride when he saw he could make you laugh.

The stuck up girl with a stick up on her ass had just let out not a forced and polite giggle, but an all teeth and gums type of laugh.

The poorly dim light in the bar did not stop him from trying to take all your features in. And a sense of warmth began to surface under his skin. He was the one who made your night better.

Ever since the event, you would visit that horrid place regularly. Only to see the charming guy who would make you laugh. Your little hangouts quickly evolved into something more. A friendship of sorts. He would walk you home when you stayed late working. “To protect you from all the homicidal freaks”. Wade would take you on private tours around the city, so its streets wouldn't feel so foreign to you. He could notice that you genuinely had a great time whenever he was around. And that was all he needed to keep showing up.

One late night, laughter turned into teasing, which transformed to kissing, which later turned into a hookup that evolved into having sex on a regular basis and going out routinely. Wade and you couldn't be more different, it was true. But it seemed to be the key to your relationship. You guys clicked together, balancing each other out.

The insidious realization came to you on a random afternoon. You were in love with Wade Wilson. And he probably felt the same for you.

As cruel as life is, something terrible happened. Just as things were getting serious between the two of you, on one cursed night, he just decided to pick up all of his things from your apartment and leave. All Wade left behind was a tiny note stating that he had terminal cancer and that he loved you. With a little doodle of a heart with crossed out eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.

You were out doing research the first time he fainted. A full-time professor had the kindness to name you as a co-author in an important research paper that was being published in some big shot magazine. Wade felt extremely proud of you. On some late nights he couldn't believe that a woman like you could be head over heels a low stakes hit-man.

The decision felt simple at the time. He ran straight to the clinic and never told you about the incident. Wondering why he would bother you with something that was probably nothing. On that day, in a confined room with sterile air, with its gray walls and the constant sound of the old air conditioner, that’s where the doctor hit him with the whole terminal cancer ordeal. Wade knew you would automatically make a billion plans and extensive research. He knew you'd stay with him all the way through the end. Even if it affected your career, even if it would wreck you emotionally, even if your routine together was reduced to a mere nurse-client relationship, you would stay with him all the way. That was the reason he had fallen in love with you after all.

So, he made a choice. Albeit, one that was a little less simple. He was leaving before tarnishing your life, your memory of him and your time together with his sickness. He couldn't do that to you. The woman who actually had goals. And a shot for a promising future. If he told you about the situation, Wade was certain that he wouldn't have the heart to say no to you. He would stay. And you'd forever remember him as a lost puppy who you loved but had to put down mercifully.

The other option was to be the asshole who left. But he could live on your memory forever. As the person he once was. So that was that.

━━━━━━━━━

You decided to take a shortcut to your newly renovated home. You were wearing your favorite heels today. And they really weren't walking shoes. Brand new, stiff, and ridiculously blue. The scrappy and dark alleyway was well illuminated, and it would take you directly into the street your building was in. After weighing the options, you decided it was safe enough to make a run for it.

The loud noises that you increasingly heard coming from the dumpster worried you. The dumpster was located just before being able to get out of that creepy lane, and you tried to stop the flux of thoughts about homicidal maniacs that suddenly plagued your mind. But, the thought of injured animals that people abandoned on the street came to you as well. Getting closer, hearing the early sound of the echoed of your shoes against the cement, you tried to swallow your fear. Something in there could really need a vet.

But there was a mutilated man wearing a red suit. You instinctively froze and began to step back, the scene was so gruesome that you were sure you would puke on the body and ruin the DNA evidence. Just as you were typing the emergency number on your phone you heard that voice.

“Bad Deadpool” it mumbled. You heard some nonsensical phrases before you could make out a “Fuck. That was, like, my favorite arm”

Your heart began to pound so strongly you could practically feel it on your ears.

He hadn't noticed you yet, continuing to lose a shit ton of blood and trying to balance himself upward without the missing limbs and several shot wounds.

Not without a second thought, you ran to help him stand up. As soon as he felt your firm touch, he turned around violently, holding a defensive position. But the man in the red suit stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were the one holding him.

This was not the neighborhood you used to live in.

You sighed at the sight and quickly took him back to your apartment. You knew it was him. Not only that, but you were sure of it. The lame jokes had given it away. And that voice had haunted you for a long time. You'd recognize him anywhere. His remaining arm felt the same, the inflections of his tired voice sounded the same, and the shock he’d felt at seeing you was indisputable belonging to him.  You had heard rumors about the red suit. But never wondered who could be behind the mask. Wade was supposed to be dead by now, anyway.

Wade, on the other hand, was focusing on not making a sound. He really hoped breaking your heart had left you clinically insane. Insane enough to rescue random mutilated men off the street.

As soon as you entered the apartment it became tainted with carnage. A trail of crimson red adorned your freshly painted white snow walls. Little chunks of skin would occasionally fall. Accompanying the already gruesome blood. Your heels had been lost somewhere along the way and with great effort you had managed to throw him into a bed that he wasn't yet familiar with.

Fuck it. As if losing an arm and a leg wasn't enough. This was breathtakingly fucked.

The shock left your body as soon as you saw your not-dead ex-boyfriend mutilated on your bed. And shock was the only thing keeping you together.

By that moment he was certain you knew it was him. Your eyes began to tear up at the sight of his wounded body, your cheeks were trembling with fear, or disgust, or a combination of both. Before he could try to get up, a pool of blood came shooting out of his mouth without warning. Some of it must have filtered through the mask because you somehow looked more terrified than before. He felt dizzy. And before Wade could do anything about it, you took out his mask on a whim to try to avoid him choking on his own blood. And that was it. All that pain, all the abandonment, the secrecy. It all meant nothing now. You had seen his face.

You were definitely taken aback. And he felt his heart break a little when you instinctively removed her hand from his face. You swallowed with difficulty, shook your head and got up. There were more pressing matters at hand. You had heard things about the vigilante regenerating. But you weren't taking any chances. Not with Wade. Never again.

It didn't matter how fucked up he looked now. He took the opportunity of you leaving the room to put his mask back on as quickly as he could. As he was trying to process everything that had just happened, through the door he could see your crying face moving up and down around the apartment. And there you were. Carrying it all into the bedroom.

It was a massive, fancy emergency kit that you had saved up for back in the day. When he was still beating bad guys for money and living with you. You had kept it all this time. And it was still perfectly stocked.

Wade couldn't lift his gaze to meet yours. But he noticed that you seemed relatively unfazed by his new face now. Or by the fact that you had seen him lacking two limbs and with some extra holes. The tears had stopped, but the mortifying look on your face never left. You always knew what he did for a living, you weren’t stupid. But he had always managed to keep it out of home. Or at least he tried to. Never to this extent. You weren't really used to it.

After all he had faced, he thought he did not need any care anymore. Just his healing, getting high and his unicorn. After all, his body would mend all the damage he had done to it and grow itself back together. But it still hurts. And you still tried to make it better. You begin to patch him up as best as you can, taking your time disinfecting, sewing, and fixing him. He knew you well enough to be absolutely certain that you were trying not to gag at the sight of the wounds. And he appreciated your efforts.

When you finished, you softly traced your fingernails on his bandages. He was too tired to talk. And you were still too shocked. How the fuck is he still alive after those injuries? What had happened to him after all these years?

Without saying a word you got up and went straight to the kitchen. You returned after some time, with his favorite tea, soup, and all the analgesics you could find. Your kindness gave him courage to stop being such a weak pussy and actually try to talk to you. You had seen him. Even if you wouldn't want anything to do anymore, the worst had passed.

“So… Sorry about your walls. Didn't know you had a fancy place now. I would've totally died in another alleyway, I promise. And, sorry, for-uhm, you know. The character shattering abandonment”

He coughed some blood. You just furrowed your eyebrows and as slowly as you could, so he could actually stop you this time if that was what he wanted, you removed his mask again. Your eyes pierced him with earnest intensity.

“You are a fucking asshole. And I fucking hate you. And I'm so glad you are alive”

"I know, I know, baby. And thank you for going all Mother Teresa on me. Well, wrong comparison. But, yeah. I'll be okay in no time. It's hard to explain right now. But, I will do right by you and paint your walls bright white when my leg and everything grows back! Pinky promise. I'll also buy you new shoes. It's kinda gross that you are footless. Or, well, it could be h-”

“Oh my lord, Wade. Just shut up and get some rest. Eat when you feel better. And scream if you need something”

And just when you were about to leave the room he softly said “Hey. I'm sorry. I-, I didn't want to bring you onto the whole cancer show. I was going to fix myself and come back. And then everything got fucked. I couldn't let you see me like this. Understand that. I'm a monster now. Inside out. I would have never left if there had been a way of staying without ruining your life”

You just looked at him for a long moment. Tears began to appear in your eyes, threatening to come out again. As soon as he saw your face, he immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Hey, how long have you been obsessed with me?

Still keeping that old thing?” He said as he gestured at the now empty emergency kit.

He didn't have the heart to explain to you that it was a waste in him.

Saying nothing in response to Wade's dumb joke, you just rolled your eyes. Hearing him talk that way about himself hurt your soul. You couldn't help yourself anymore, so you walked towards the injured man with tears running down your face. You sat down on a chair beside the bed and rested your head on his lap.

He called your name softly “there's no need to cry. I know I belong to a fucking circus, but this is getting a little offensive" Wade finally got a chuckle out of you. You smile at him and wipe out your tears. Wade winces slightly when you tenderly leave a kiss on his forehead. He feels ashamed of the tact his ruined skin probably had left on your soft lips. It has truly been so long. You notice how he reacts. So you put your hands around his face and gently kiss each of his cheeks, and then the bridge of his nose. As softly as you can.

"I'll go now before you make some lame Greek kiss joke. Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. I know you are sorry.” With a more serious voice, you added.

“Just no more running away in the middle of the night. Okay?”

Wade softens. He really missed you. As much as he liked Al's old ass, his true home was with you. Even after all these years. Even after what he did to you. Even with how he looked. Wade was certain he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in years. He was safe now.

“Never again. I promise. I'll do right by you. Okay? We'll be friends with a ton of disgusting unexplored sexual tension in no time and who knows where that could lead to”

You laughed again. And there it was. His favorite sound in the world. It sounded just like the first time he heard it all those years ago.

"By the way, you do owe me those heels. And white walls. You pinky promised it. Oh, and you also owe me the biggest fucking explanation of the century.”

“Sounds like a start to me”

────────

Notes: OMG my first big one! I’m excited to post this. I hope it makes sense, if it doesn’t, feedback is always welcomed! -Sidey xxo

[Edited on October 2024! This was poorly written and I was fully proud of it 😭 shoutout to @nikkiwho, who I fixed this fit for] btw, I’m working on your request for part two even if it’s been a while! Hope you like it.

[burrowlvrr]

— NOT LONG AGO, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Joe and Y/N can't believe how far they've come. From taking a pregnancy test in a dorm room, to washing dishes while the babies watch a movie.

NOTE: I got a MacBook and forgot how to act, writing on this thing is so much fun Lord help me. I thought this was kinda cute, shows a lil different side of our couple but its low-key the shortest thing I've written so far, unfortunately :( but enjoy and ignore any errors! <3

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The house was unusually quiet, a rare reprieve in the Burrow household. The twins, Hudson and Elijah, were snuggled up on the couch under a thick blanket, captivated by the colorful characters on the TV screen. Their little giggles and whispers occasionally broke the stillness. Outside, the cold December wind howled, but the warmth of their Cincinnati home kept the chill at bay.

Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the last of the dinner plates. The glow from the under-cabinet lights cast a soft radiance over her face, and she hummed a tune under her breath, content in the moment.

Joe appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His gaze lingered on her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he called softly. “Why don’t you let me handle these? Go hang out with the boys for a bit.” He nodded toward the couch where their sons were quietly enjoying the movie.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smile. “Y'know how this works, Burrow. I wash, you rinse.” She handed him a freshly cleaned plate, their fingers brushing briefly.

Joe chuckled, stepping forward to take his place beside her at the sink. “Fair enough. I just hate seein' you doing all the work when you’ve been chasing after them all day.”

“I like this part,” she replied softly, dipping her hands back into the soapy water. “It’s peaceful. Plus, we’re a team, remember?”

Their routine continued, the rhythmic sounds of dishes clinking and water running filling the air. The moment felt perfect in its simplicity.

“Remember when we found out?” Joe started, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia. Y/N looked at him briefly, shaking her head as she let out a soft giggle.

“How could I forget? You ran nearly three miles across campus to get to my dorm, Joe.” She replied, and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, "How do you think I got the Heisman?"

★

Back in 2019, Joe and Y/N were basically still kids. Seniors in college, but still kids. Y/N had finals coming up for her Bachelor's degree, and word around campus was that Joe would be nominated for this year's Heisman. They were both rather successful in their academics and sports--but this, no level of success could prepare a college student for a positive pregnancy test.

She sat on the floor of her dorm room, her back pressed against the bed-frame, knees pulled to her chest. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. The pregnancy tests were on the bathroom counter, both of them untouched—her mind racing in panic, holding her back from using the tests alone.

When Joe picked up, his voice was steady but laced with concern. “Y/N? Hey, babe. What's up?”

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel her chest tightening.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice firmer now. “Breathe, okay? I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnected before she could respond, and she stared at the phone in her trembling hands, her tears falling freely.

Meanwhile, Joe was already running. He bolted out of the locker room, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his cleats barely tied. The cold air stung his face as he sprinted across campus from the football field to the girls’ dorms. Students turned to watch as he sped past, but he didn’t care.

By the time he reached her door, he was panting, his chest heaving from the exertion. He pushed it open without hesitation and dropped his duffel bag to the floor. The sight of Y/N, curled up and trembling, hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Y/N,” he breathed, moving toward her. She stood shakily, meeting him halfway, and threw her arms around his neck. Her sobs were muffled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey,” Joe murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart. "I think I—I'm pregnant." She choked out, a hand going to her mouth to try and cover the hiccups.

"I'm too scared to touch them, Joe." She sobbed, and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm here now."

They stood there for a moment before Joe left a kiss on her tanned forehead, brushing a stray curl away from her face and tilting her chin upward. "I'll stand right beside you. I'll even hold your hand if you want me to."

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, "Now's not the time to be humorous, Burrow." She roughly wiped her tears away before making her way to the bathroom, turning around with a waiting expression—hoping Joe was on her heels, which he was.

She took both tests while Joe stood a few inches away, looking away out of respect but still turning around to check on her every few moments. Y/N quickly washed her hands, taking the tests and grabbing Joe's hand, leading him to her bed. They both sat on the edge, the two plastic tests lying in between them. Face down.

At least six minutes had passed now, and Joe couldn't stop his leg from bouncing. Y/N stared at them as if they might explode, her hands trembling slightly.

"You should check." Joe said, breaking the silence, his voice low and steady. Y/N whipped her head in his direction, "Me? You check it!"

Joe shook his head by then decided against arguing. He sighed, leaning over, and then hesitating for a moment. His fingers hovering over the tests, "Okay, but...don't we kinda already know?"

"Just look, Joe." She snapped, her voice higher-pitched than usual. She squeezed her eyes shut out of fear, as Joe flipped the tests over and freezes. His jaw tightened, but he doesn't speak right away.

"Joe," Y/N whispers, her heart pounding in her chest. "What does it say?"

"Positive." he says, barely above a whisper.

The words hit her like a freight train. She slumps back into the couch, her head in her hands. "Oh my God," she mutters, her voice cracking. "This can’t be happening. I can’t—"

"Y/N," Joe starts, but she cuts him off, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"My mama is going to kill me," she says, sitting up straight now, her hands flying. "You don’t understand, Joe. And my daddy's always lecturing me about ‘staying focused’ and ‘not ruining my future.’ This is exactly what he meant! They’re never going to forgive me for this!"

Joe stands, walking over to her and crouching down. "Hey," he says softly, placing a hand on her knee, but she jerks away, jumping to her feet.

"And what about graduation?" she continues, pacing the room now. "Three months, Joe! We graduate in three months! Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? Diapers, formula, doctor visits… How are we supposed to afford that?"

Joe stays quiet, letting her vent. She turns to him suddenly, her eyes wide. "You don’t even have a job lined up yet! And me? I don’t know if my internship is going to turn into anything. We have nothing, Joe. Nothing!"

"Y/N," he says firmly, standing up.

She doesn’t stop. "I’m not ready for this! We’re not ready for this! I can’t—"

"Y/N!" he says louder, his voice cutting through her panic. She freezes, her chest heaving.

He takes a step closer, his voice calmer now. "Listen to me. I know this wasn’t the plan, okay? I get it. But I am going pro. You know I’ve been working toward the draft, and my agent is confident I’ll get picked. I’m gonna make it, Y/N. And when I do, we’ll be okay."

She stares at him, shaking her head. "Joe, the draft isn’t guaranteed. What if something goes wrong? What if you don’t get picked? What if—"

"I will," he interrupts, his tone steady. "I will. I’m not just doing this for me anymore—I’m doing it for you. For us. For this baby."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn’t say anything. Joe steps closer, taking her hands in his. "I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But we’ve got each other, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you and this baby are taken care of. I promise you that."

Tears spill over her cheeks as she looks at him. "You’re so sure about everything, but I’m not. My parents are going to see this as the end of my life, Joe. The end of everything I’ve worked for."

He nods, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Then we’ll prove them wrong. We’ll show them that this isn’t the end—it’s just a new beginning. You’re still going to graduate, Y/N. You’re still going to chase your dreams. And we’ll figure the rest out together."

She exhales shakily, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around her. "I just… I don’t know how we’re going to do this."

"One step at a time," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "We’ll start by telling our parents. Together."

She pulls back, giving him a doubtful look. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to hear my dad’s lecture about how I’ve ‘thrown my life away.’"

Joe chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, but I’ll be right there with you. And if he tries to kill me, I’ll just tell him I’m going pro—maybe that’ll distract him."

Despite herself, Y/N laughs through her tears. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he says, grinning. "But I love you. And I love this baby, even if it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me."

She looks at him, her expression softening. "I love you too."

He pulls her back into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time all night, she lets herself believe him.

★

Back in their kitchen, the married couple laughs in unison as they recalled the dinner where they told both of their parents. "Oh my gosh! Daddy almost jumped across that table at you!"

"I was scared!" Joe laughed loudly, covering his mouth when he saw Hudson's head pop up over the top of the couch. "Your dad is very intimidating."

"Well, you survived." Y/N insisted, "And we both know I thought my life was over." Joe playfully frowned, "You were pacing so much before that dinner, babe. I thought you were gonna burn a hole in the carpet."

She flicks a bit of water at him, rolling her eyes. "Well, excuse me for being a little freaked out. It wasn’t exactly a normal Tuesday, you know? We were graduating in three months, broke as hell, and had no idea what we were doing."

Joe nods, his smile softening. "I remember how scared you were about telling your parents. But you know what I remember more?"

"What?" she asks, handing him a clean glass.

"How you still managed to push through all that fear and finish your degree on time. You didn’t let anything stop you, not even two babies kicking your ribs during finals."

Y/N shakes her head, laughing. "Don’t act like you weren’t freaking out too. You spent half the night staring at that pregnancy test like it might change if you looked hard enough."

Joe laughs, drying the glass. "Okay, fair. I was terrified. But I knew we’d figure it out. And look at us now."

Y/N glances around the kitchen, her eyes lingering on the family photos on the fridge—the twins’ school pictures, a shot of the four of them at the beach, and a drawing labeled Mama, Daddy, Hudson, and Elijah.

"Yeah," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "We’ve built a pretty amazing life, haven’t we?"

Joe sets the towel down and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We have. And those two little terrors in the living room? They’re the best thing that ever happened to us."

Y/N leans into him, resting her head against his chest. "I still can’t believe we were worried about not being ready. I mean, we weren’t—but we figured it out."

Joe kisses the top of her head, his voice low and full of love. "That’s because we’re a team, Y/N. Always have been."

Before she can respond, a loud crash comes from the living room, followed by giggles and a triumphant "Wasn't me!"

Y/N groans, pulling back. "Moment's over."

Joe laughs, grabbing a dish towel. "I’ll check on the damage. You finish up here."

As he heads toward the living room, Y/N watches him go, her heart swelling with gratitude. She turns back to the sink, rinsing the last plate as the sound of Joe’s playful scolding echoes from the other room.

She smiles to herself, thinking back to that night all those years ago. It had been terrifying and uncertain, but it led to this—a life full of love, laughter, and a chaos she wouldn’t trade for the world.

[teacupwrites]

Vox, Valentino, and Angel with Moth! Reader

Vox

You were a sunset moth, wings black on the outside with gorgeous rays of rainbows on the inside

Initially he wasn’t the biggest fan of having a constant reminder of Valentino as his right hand assistant

You were pretty calm, and honestly very laid-back with your emotions

You did what you were told and he liked that about you

Look- living in hell was hard and you needed a job, and you planned on keeping it

I like to think that moth demons usually keep their wings concealed in a similar way that Val does

So whether you use it as a coat, cape, skirt, dress? Vox doesn’t think too much of it at first

He was in a relationship with Valentino and even he hadn’t seen them all too much

Though little did he know that was the key to your emotions

One time, you were walking alongside Vox, updating him on his schedule and marking off any meetings he wished to cancel 

But this dumb bitch kept interrupting you

It wasn’t uncommon for paparazzi to crowd at Vox- he was an Overlord, it’s to be expected

But this girl was being a real bitch

So you were quick to whip around, wings flaring and antenna unfurling as you seethed to the woman, nearly clawing her face off as she backed away

Then as she finally left, your wings drooped, but kept out, hanging behind you like a cape as you turned back to Vox, and read off the rest of his schedule 

However, the TV headed Overlord wasn’t paying much attention, instead he was much more infatuated with the colorful wings perched on your back

They caught attention, his attention

You were useful, and he needed to take advantage of that

Ever since then Vox brought you around everywhere, which brought even more attention to you

Safe to say, you no longer reminded him of Valentino

Instead, you were the pretty little moth that helped bring more attention to his business

“I still don’t understand why you’re using me as a model,” you muttered, quirking an eyebrow as Vox held and observed your wings, handling them very delicately despite his excitement. “I mean- can’t you use Valentino?”

Vox hummed in reply, bringing his hands away to quickly copy down more commands into his computers, modeling out a robot that took the shape of a moth, a spy tool

“Because you’re wings are better than Val’s,” he quipped, coming back over and gently pressing down onto the base of your wings, the sensitive area just behind your shoulder blade. “And he wouldn’t let me.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back into his feeling touch with a grumble.

“Whatever.”

Valentino

Moth demons aren’t by any means completely rare, and Valentino knew that

It was just that most of them were…bland, lacking in color and any kind of beauty that would bring people to his studio

So he paid them no mind

But you were different

You were a rosy maple moth, colored bright pinks and yellows and attracting attention wherever you went

Valentino was out in a luxury restaurant with Vox and Velvette, discussing business

And then you came by, prancing in your little uniform as you brought them complimentary drinks since they were Overlords, carefully crafted alcohol each handed to him by one of your three free hands

To say Valentino was interested was an understatement

He purposely took a long time to order just so you could stay by for longer

You were quick and efficient, getting all of their orders correct on the first try, 

When you came back you showed off your arm strength, each one holding up their plates high and setting them down with utmost caution before the three of them

Your colors were so bright, so eye-catching

How could Valentino not get you fired just so he could hire you as one of his own?

You were quite easy to catch, trapped up in his little web where you now worked for him

Once you did, he made sure you worked in the most populated bar he owned

You still had no idea just how much Valentino manipulated you, but you aren’t to blame for that

He babied you incredibly, broke you down with strung up hands and then built you back up just to make you trust him even more

He struck your deepest insecurities, manipulating you by taking random girls and boys and making you stand nearby as those cruel demons mocked you

And Valentino would then shoo them away, and baby you

You were never in any films as one of the main characters, (the ones who have sex)

But you were always teased as such, and were actually pasted across many posters of said films

You were photogenic, and Valentino took advantage of this

“‘Greetings sir, welcome to the….the…’ shit,” you sighed as you forgot your lines, bringing out your script from the folds of your wings to glance at it. “Sir I don’t think I’m gonna remember this.”

You looked to Valentino, shifting from where you stood, giving the werewolf actor above you a side glance. He drooled like a madman, some of it even dripping down onto your antenna, making you flinch back.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he called from his director's chair, right leg crossed over his left as he looked at you, pink smoke billowing around him as he gave a toothy smile. “Just improv it.”

You shifted, slightly unsure of just how good you’d be able to ‘improv’ your lines. 

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he insisted, standing up and slowly striding over to you, resting one of his hands on your shoulder as you followed him with your gaze. “No one’s watching the dialogue, right? They just want to see this.”

He ran one of his free hands down the shape of your wings, making you shudder lightly, antenna unfurling and twitching high up into the air.

“So just say whatever, okay?”

You nodded slowly, blushing hardly as he held your waist and shoulders with his much larger hands, leaning down and pecking a gentle kiss on your cheek before returning to his chair.

“And….action,”

Angel Dust

Out of the three, he probably took the longest to trust you

Not only did you work for Valentino, but you also happened to be the same species of demon

You were an atlas moth, with colors reminiscent of cinnamon

And you were a camera man/woman

So you and Angel often were in the same room during shoots

He didn’t resent you- it just took him a while to convince him that you weren’t gonna hurt him

In-between takes you would skitter forward and quickly fix up his hair and makeup, 

Unlike a lot of the other workers, your touch was gentle and caring, gently running your clawed hands through his hair, and dabbing a brush across his cheekbones to fix up the color

Slowly but surely, you began to hang out outside of work

One time- you spotted him in a bar with Cherri (who wasn’t the fondest of you)

You came over, offering to buy drinks

At first, Angel was very cautious, watching how you handled their drinks, 

Cherri carried this too

Then- that one dreadful night, where Valentino was in the same bar

Angel had rushed forward to protect Niffty, where the moth Overlord looked down at Angel with a sickly sadism

But before Valentino could continue his taunting- and getting Angel to snap- you spoke up from the crowd

“Valentino,” you began, catching your boss’ attention. “Leave him alone, he’s off the clock so just drop it

For a long moment, Angel looked at you like you were fucking insane- but you stood your ground

And after a long moment, Valentino sighed- grumbling to himself before finally backing off.

Angel paused for a long moment, before you came over to Angel, taking one of his free hands and helping him to his feet.

“Are you okay?”you asked, voice soft and sweet as you looked to him in concern

Angel took a moment too long to respond, instead looking at you in a mixture of confusion and adoration

“I…I…”

“Val’s such an asshole, come on, let’s get back to your friends,” you offered, holding out a hand to him, and yet you didn’t take it by force.

You were lucky Angel didn’t completely malfunction that day

After that one moment, you became Angel’s one and only work friend

He loved Husk, Cherri, and Charlie- but you were different

You knew what it was like

After you two started hanging out more, he began to notice the little things about you

How you would chirp or squeak whenever he ran his hands along the bridge or base of your wings- apparently it felt good because it was hard to scratch and care for back there

Oh- and your antenna, you had special little brushes for them, and Angel loved them to bits- touching them, brushing, petting- all of the above

You were his work friend- his only one

“Ugh-” Angel groaned as he stumbled into your room, plopping down onto your fluffy and thick blankets, rubbing some of his makeup onto your pillows as you followed him inside.

“Just relax Angie,” you eased, crawling onto the bed beside him, fours hands planted on either side as you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his back. “He’s not here.”

Angel whined in reply, to which you picked up Angel by the waist, sitting him upright before using your low set of hands to gently massage the sore areas along his back and sides

Angel let out a low groan, easing into your touch to which you look to him in mild amusement.

“Thanks, dollface, really,” he managed to get out, smiling and reaching back to hold your face affectionately. “This feels amazing.”

“Just relax, Angie, and let go.”

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; 8

Commander Snow

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

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

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The door was fixed with great haste. Before you knew it, you were back in the apartment playing housewife again. Coriolanus’s distrust of you grew to a new level. He no longer trusted you to remain home by yourself. Edmund was still not found, and Coriolanus was certain he would reappear and take you away.

You now worked with him, slept with him, and ate every meal with him. The fence line seemed like an impossible goal with him being so suffocating. You were pretty sure the broken chain was not found. He would have said something, would have taunted you with how close your freedom was. It meant you had something up your sleeve against him.

But you had no way of getting to it. You had tried to disappear during his work hours, when he was most distracted, but the only time you seemed to be out of his sight was when you showered. If there had been a window in the bathroom, you were sure that he would have been in there too.

You tried your best to soften him with affection. When you had the chance, you baked him the oatmeal cookies he loves. He ate whole plates in one sitting.

But as his work increased, your work decreased. Long days spent at his office were hard to fill. He sat behind his desk and never seemed to stop working. Sometimes there was mending you could do, or shoes to shine but most of the day you sat on the couch reading what was on hand.

You had taken to organizing the books in alphabetical order, then grouped them according to color. You worked quietly and slowly. Careful not to make any noise to disturb Coriolanus from his work. You had taken them down again just moments ago to reorganize them by subject when Coriolanus' assistant came in carrying a tea tray and a large parcel. 

She drops the parcel down on the table in front of you, amongst the books. You look over it to see your name neatly scribbled on the recipient's information. 

The receptionist doesn’t look at you as she puts the tea tray in front of Coriolanus. 

He thanks her but her response is drowned out to your ears by the opening of the box. 

“Is it from Tigris?” 

You wait until the receptionist shuts the door behind her to respond. 

You confirmed it was, as you pulled a soft silk nightdress from the box. It was light pink which was uncommon for the districts. Dark pink lace trimming boarded along the bottom and top of the dress. You run your finger across it. It was the most expensive material you had ever felt. 

Another dress was folded in the box and you take it out. 

It was light blue with yellow birds flying across it, made of a soft cotton material that would fall around your ankles. 

“You like them?” he asks.

“They are beautiful,” you admit. 

You look in the box for more to see a small pouch filled with sweets from the Capitol. 

Tigris was too kind. If things had been different, you would have been a good friend to her. But as her cousin's captive, you were now sworn enemies. The box of treats didn’t change that. 

You return the items to the box and see parchment paper protecting soft material at the bottom. 

“There's a shirt for you.” It was a long white dress shirt with gold stitching running in horizontal lines down it. 

He comes from his desk to collect it. Taking it gently from your hands, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent. 

“You really miss home,” you comment, watching him breathe in the scent the shirt carried. 

“I do. More than anything.” He returns to his desk with it still in his hands. 

“You’ll be home soon.” 

“We’ll be home soon”. 

You smile thinly at him. “That’s what I said.” 

“You should see the Capitol. Clothing, culture. Actual buildings, not these pieces of tin. You’ll be able to breathe much better in the Capitol.” 

The scratching of his pen picked up where his sentence had been incomplete as he began his work again. The shirt lay across his lap. 

“I have the day off tomorrow,” he said without stopping his work, “I was thinking we could visit the waterfall again. It will probably be the last time before Ravinstill dies.” 

The thought made your stomach drop. If you don’t make it beyond the fence, it would in fact be the last time you ever saw your favorite place. The time was better spent within the compound waiting for an opportunity. He would never let you get too far in the district. 

“I’d prefer not to.” 

“Why?” he questions with a hard tone. He continued to write but the pen pressed firmly into the paper. 

“I am behind on my chores, and I haven’t made anything in a while. The food in the fridge will go bad if I don’t get to it soon.” 

“Let it. The Capitol is full of food.”

You realize now that Coriolanus had already made up his mind to do the activity. You wondered why he chose it. He hated the heat and the bugs. 

You walk over to the tray of hot tea and pour out a cup, making it to his liking and placing it down in front of him. 

“We’ll go if you want to.” 

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“Why do you want to? The walk up there will take us nearly the whole morning in the hot sun.” 

“I thought it might make you happy.” 

He was trying to win your approval before he ripped everything you had ever known from your finger tips. It was something to use against him. Coriolanus responded best when he was in a position to be a hero. He would do anything so long as he felt he was the only one who could do it for you. 

You lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against his neck. 

“You know what would make me happy? Some vanilla extract so I can send Tigris some shortbread cookies back”.

He responds positively by wrapping his hands around your forearms. He liked you looking out for Tigris. 

“She’s been asking to meet you.” He says, his hand gently wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “I have a call with them next Friday afternoon. Maybe you’d like to come with.” 

You retract your hold now that he was in a better mood. 

There was only one answer you could give him when it came to his family. 

“I’d love to”. 

You had a deep hate for Capitol people but Tigris seems different. In any case, you were sure you could remain civil for an hour-long phone call. 

Pouring yourself a cup of tea, you return to your spot with it and Coriolanus returns to his work. 

———- 

 You stood out in the sun with Coriolanus as he discussed the new recruits' performance with another high-ranking officer. They were splitting them up into areas of work. The strong and fast became foot soldiers, the slow were put on kitchen duty, and the ones who showed a inclination to aggression were watchmen. He spared a couple to the infantry to learn basic medic care and help around the hospital. You couldn't work out what sent those recruits apart. It seemed random but you knew nothing Coriolanus did was without great care and strategy.

All the men seemed equally angry and you wondered if Coriolanus was the same when he was a Peacekeeper. 

The sun felt nice upon your skin after so long. It was late afternoon and it had just begun to set, leaving behind a nice cool breeze. 

You thought about your mother and Edmund. Were they enjoying the sun too? 

The sound of a vehicle approaching ruined the moment of reflection. Coriolanus took your hand in his as soon as the tires upon the gravel could be heard as if you were to be run over if he didn’t. 

It surprisingly stopped in front of where you stood. A transport car with no doors and a large trunk carried two men. A younger man wearing a District 12 peacekeeper uniform and an older man who wore a Commander uniform set apart by its light purplish color. 

“Commander.” The older man greets as he swings out of the car. 

“Vongurt.” Coriolanus uses his spare hand to offer a handshake which is strongly and fervently taken. 

Another Commander had come to see Coriolanus. You doubted he was any better than the last. 

“This is my wife, Y/N.” With his hand, he leads you in front of him to show you off to the Commander.

You were stiff with shock as the man's disapprovingly raked his eyes over you. He too felt jarred at the label of wife. District women weren’t wives. They were barely considered human.

But he smiles nonetheless, something you couldn’t return.

“Pleasure.” With a kiss placed upon your hand, the Commander's attention was turned back to Coriolanus.

 “Your compound is impressive, Commander Snow. It has to be the largest I’ve seen.” 

Coriolanus seemed unimpressed by the comment. He turns back to the Peacekeepers watching them as they leap, and fight. 

“A palace of scrap metal.” 

He waves over a tall man in a high-ranking uniform, who quickly makes his way over from across the field. 

“Your apartment is only slightly better. Sergeant AJ will take you there.” 

“I was hoping that we could talk. I’ve come all this way from District 2.”

“Later, Commander. The conference room at 7. You’ll have my undivided attention there.” 

The man nods back and follows his guide back into the car. 

Coriolanus makes a comment to his officer about a recruit and the man jotted down all of his thoughts. 

You wanted to get away. Break free from his hold and bolt to the fence line. His delusions had reached a new height, with him now openly telling lies to men with power. 

Your body moves to your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized you were twisting your hand away from him until he tightened his hold. 

He turns to you, asking if you are ok. 

“I need to go home” you respond. Home to my mother. Back home to normalcy. 

“Take whoever we missed today and regroup them tomorrow morning” he directs the man next to him. A whistle is blown and the recruits stop their training, instead they congregate in front of you. 

Coriolanus turns as his officer begins to dish out instructions, taking you back to the apartment. 

“The heat can get to you,” he says. 

You had lived in District 12 all your life if anyone was to know about the heat it was you. But you verbally agree and apologize for taking him away from his work. 

He hushes you and it ends the conversation for the walk home. 

He lets you go as you enter your prison, and you take off without him to the bedroom. 

You hear his voice wafting down the hallway telling you to lie down. You shove your boots off and get into bed. Every day your window closes. It won’t be long before either the broken fence is found or you are carted off on the train. 

But he had called you his wife. Not just to anyone but a Capitol Commander. Even if you got away, the idea that he would leave you here for the presidency is just a fantasy. 

How long would you need to live in hiding before he forgot you? Could you bear the costs of it for as long as needed? What work could you do in the mountains to support yourself and your mother? 

Wife. Why did he have to say wife? You weren’t that. You were his captive, a victim of his need to be cared for. 

Coriolanus enters the room with a wet, cold rag and runs it over your forehead. A victim of his need to pretend he was capable of caring for something. 

He sits on the bed beside you running the cloth over your forehead and into your hair. 

“Do you feel alright?” he asks as you take the cloth off him. 

“I am fine. Just a little lightheaded.” You throw the cloth on the bed stand and he takes it as a signal to get up. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

He disappears and you're thankful for the space to think. Could you tell him you just need a walk around the compound by yourself to think? No, he would take it as an insult. 

You had to get out. The fence was so close. 

You don’t notice him as he sits back down beside you. Only the glass to your lips made you see him. 

“I won’t go to the meeting with Vongurt if you are unwell.” 

You sit up straighter at his words, pushing the glass away from you. 

“No!” you say harshly, “No, you should go. I am fine.” 

“You don’t look well.” You were sure you looked terrible after you had the shock of your life. 

“But I feel fine. Just too much sun.” 

He looked annoyed that you were arguing with him so you switched tactics. 

“We need his support to get back to the Capitol. Maybe you could just leave the door open for some fresh air?” 

You had pushed too hard, and he got up

“If I am not here, the door is shut.”

“Of course,” you breathe with a soft smile at him, “I’ll be fine by the time you have to leave.”

Coriolanus hovered around you for the next hour and a half before he had to start getting ready for his meeting. He took a shower to wash the sweat off him from the day and changed into his official outfit. It fit snugly, his broad shoulders carried the uniform well. 

He attached the dressings of his uniform as you watched him from the bed. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. What if you feel unwell while I am away?” His fingers were still on the badge he was trying to put on. 

“I am fine,” you assure him, “I feel fine.” 

“We should invite him here. That way if you need me, I am here.” 

You cringed at the thought of serving Commander Vongurt. 

“I won’t need you. Besides the conference room is much nicer.” You get up to help him put on his badge and send him on his way. 

“I haven’t felt unwell since dinner.” Coriolanus stood over you as you cooked, convinced that the heat in the kitchen would make you unwell again. With a knife in your hand, it was a dangerous time for Coriolanus to tell you what to do.

“You’re sure?” he pokes. 

You were tired of saying it so you just nodded your head. 

“Go to the bathroom then.” 

It was an odd request. 

“What?” you question. 

“Go to the bathroom and take a shower. Get changed into your night dress.”

He checks his watch once before motioning you forward. 

There was no other option for you then to follow his request. You thought maybe he just wanted to complete the bed time routine. He wanted to know you were washed and dressed for bed for his own comfort. You never knew what made him tick. 

You complete the tasks quickly and return to find he had placed a glass of water and a packet of dried mixed fruit.

You quiz him on it but he doesn’t answer. He takes your wrist in his hand and tugs you to the bed.

Taking out his handcuffs, he clips your wrist into the cuff, pulling it up to the headboard where he attached the other cuff. 

You tug against it in protest. “What are you doing?”

“Just in case, Edmund comes back.”

“He won’t! Please unlock me.” you beg. 

“I left your book there if you are not ready to sleep yet.” He stands tall and readjusts his uniform. 

“Coriolanus!” You say in a serious tone, “Get this off of me.”

You pull against it brutally and he captures your hand against the headboard. 

“I left you one hand so you can read. I don’t have to.” 

“Please, don’t leave me here like this!” He ignores you, bending down once more to flick on the lamp. 

“You’ve had a big day. Try and rest. I’ll be home soon.” 

“Coriolanus!” you call out watching him leave. He flicks off the main light as he goes. 

“Coriolanus!” you yell. 

You had never felt anger as you lay trapped in bed. He dictated when you worked, when you rested, when you ate. Nothing was yours anymore. Every breath you took was only because he allowed you to take it. 

There was nothing to tell the time on. It felt like years waiting for him to come back and release you. You didn’t read, only plotted. 

Could you feed him something to make him sick? Surely he would request you to come see him in the infirmary. You could break away when returning from your visit. What if he caught you trying to poison him though? 

Friday provided the perfect opportunity. While he was distracted with his family you could sneak away. The communication building was on the other side of the compound but at least you would be outside of the apartment. 

But how would you get away far enough to make a break for it? You thought about what was in the surrounding area of the communications building. Nothing would be a reasonable excuse to pardon yourself. 

Could you excuse yourself to the bathroom? Surely one of the surrounding offices would have one. Would he let you go alone? Sacrifice time with his family to take you. Would he even let you go or just expect you to make do until the phone call was over? 

You came up with twenty different scenarios of escape routes, each one ended with Coriolanus catching you. 

You wished you didn’t shoo Edmund away now. He could have got the door opened in time. It was only your fearfulness that stood in the way of your escape. You could be with him now, with your mother. Up in the mountains, safe and sound. 

God, you hoped they were safe and well-fed. 

You wished for nothing more than to tend to your mother, to ensure that she was alright. 

The care that was supposed to go to her was now unjustly turned towards Coriolanus, who was adamant to wring it from your hands. 

Edmund had always taken whatever care you gave him with great appreciation. 

Never demanded more, and then took it with force. 

He was kind and patient. Two things Coriolanus is not. 

And now you have dragged him into this mess where his life is at great risk. Still, he had never demanded any more from you. 

When his lips first met yours, they were placed almost in questioning. It was up to you to accept and beg for more. 

You wished you had seen his affection for you sooner. But he was your brother's best friend, and the main protector of you and your mother. If Coriolanus never entered the picture you doubt he ever would have acted on it. 

But he had, and you had returned the affection. It was the start of something new and beautiful or the end of years of friendship and familiarity. 

Once Coriolanus went back to the Capitol, your new life would begin. 

You hoped it would be alongside Edmund. You would pay him back for his bravery.

You would be a good girlfriend to him, then wife, and then mother of his children. You would never ask him for anything, and take great care of his family life. You would ensure his happiness, as he ensures your life now. 

You almost forget you were chained to the bed of the Commander as you daydream of brown-haired babies. But the sound of Coriolanus arriving home was a solemn reminder. His boots against the hardwood floor soften as they reach the bedroom door. 

You still had a great challenge before you got to nurse Edmund’s children. 

You had to get away from Coriolanus, and the only way you could do that is if he had no idea that you planned to. 

The door creaks open and you sit up straight to watch him enter. 

“I am sorry. Did I wake you?” He places his coat on the foot of the bed and crawls over to where you lay. 

“No. I was waiting for you.”

He smiles down at you as he unlocks the cuff from your wrist with the keys in his pocket.

“You seem happy,” you comment. You could smell the whiskey on his clothes as he leaned over you.

“I am. I have you. I have Commander Vongurt’s support behind me, and Ravinstill is not expected to last the winter. We’ll be home before you know it.”

Throwing the keys on his bedside table, he leans down to kiss you before resting his head on your collarbone.

“That’s not long,” you comment. 

“Three months at the most.”

You drowned in your anxiety quietly as he rested. 

Three months and your life was over. 

 He takes your silence as a quiet contemplation. 

“Are you thinking of your mother?” he runs a curled finger along your nose.

“Yeah. I’ll miss her”. You hope to never have to know the pain of missing her again. These past few weeks have been unbearable.

“You’ll write. I’ll organize a time she can come to the compound for video calls.”

You were sure he was going to let you write and call. For how long was another thing. You could see it already, your calls being cut short, your letters ‘lost’ in the mail.

“Yeah,” you respond again.

Your mind races with ideas of escape. You could fake a sickness and be sent to the medical camp. No, he wouldn’t send you there. He panicked today over a supposed case of heatstroke. 

He lowers his head down closer to you where you can smell the evening on him.

“You want to know what I was thinking?” he asks playfully.

You could start a fire during dinner time. He was sure to open the door to let you out before dealing with the flames.

“Yeah?” you entertain. Fire could go wrong for a number of reasons. Besides you would have to fight your way to the oven. Especially now that Commander Vongurt was here. Coriolanus would be too busy to wait for you to cook something.

“I was thinking I hope we have a boy first. Then two girls, then another boy.”

Your eyes shoot open as his hand reaches out across your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt and he lays a warm palm over your belly.

Then again, a big enough fire might kill him. Was it worth a shot?

“You called me your wife today. That’s not true.”

“What else should I have called you? We sleep together, eat together, wake together. We look after each other. The only thing missing is an official title but as soon as we get back to the Capitol, we’ll fix that.”

You turn away from him to your side. Now that the talk of the Capitol was becoming a more serious threat, you felt sick.

“Did I scare you with talk of babies? It wouldn’t be for a few more years yet.”

His rants did scare you. That would be your life if you didn’t figure out a way to the fence. Nursing Commander Snow’s babies in the Capitol. Away from your mother. Away from Edmund.

Still, you had to perform. You couldn’t let any more distrust between him and you grow. 

“You didn’t scare me. I am just tired. I’ve waited up all night for you.”

You feel a soft kiss press against your ear before the weight of the bed was shifted as he moved.

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He leans over you once more to flick off the light. You hear him walk out to the bathroom to take a shower.

Could you force him to give you the keys? The chain was still dangling from the headboard. If you could somehow get his wrist caught, you could threaten him with a kitchen knife. You shake the thought from your head. You couldn’t hurt him with a knife. You were sure even one-handedly, he could take it off you if you tried.

You just needed a distraction, just two seconds when his attention wasn’t on you to escape.

Wet, salty tears rolled down your cheeks as you lay in the dark, but you made no sound.

You were still awake when he returned from his shower, dressed in his pajamas. Thinking you are asleep he is slow and quiet as he rejoins you in bed.

He curls up against your back and rests his hand on your stomach as if there is something already inside. He wasn’t going to wait a few more years. He said it purely for your comfort.

He dreamt of being a young President with a baby on the way. And another one close after that, and another, and another. He would undo history. He would have as many baby Coriolanus’s and Tigris’ as it took to heal the past.

Watching you nurture, feed, and play with his children would overtake his memories of fighting for his life when he should have been nursed by his mother.

He felt as if he was in the area but soon to be crowned Victor. President Ravinstill just had to die before he could have it all.

His destiny that had been interrupted when his father died but was now back on track. From birth, Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be the man who had it all. Not some impoverished boy, hanging on to his father’s legacy.

When he died, he would be remembered as his own man. Not as the shadow of his father.

Coriolanus Snow; Beloved President of Panem, star pupil of the Academy, Plinth Prize winner, devoted husband and father, and Victor of the games. Coriolanus would be remembered as the man who had it all.

You lay awake under him. The smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of his soap. It burnt your nose as you inhaled. 

 President Ravinstill could die tonight. There was no guarantee that he would even make it to winter. You had to get out. If you made it to the Capitol, you would never get back home. 

While he was intoxicated was your best chance. He seemed so still now, you could take the keys off the nightstand and go through everyone. You were sure he wouldn’t wake, not until it was too late. You remember when your father drank on special occasions, he would sleep for 14 hours at a time. Coriolanus was sure to sleep for at least half that. 

You wait until you can’t feel him twitch before you rise from bed. Very slowly, very carefully, you peel yourself from him, shoving a pillow in your place. He doesn’t move from your actions so you continue over to his nightstand where his key ring is laid. 

Rows and rows of keys looped together. They jingle as you pick them up. Panic runs like ice up your spin as you turn back to see Coriolanus; unmoved and unknowing. 

You wrap your hand around as many keys as you can to stop further noise and make your way to the door. Checking every few steps to ensure he wouldn’t turn up behind you. 

The floor creeks as you pass the hallways to the living room but no other sound follows as you cross the kitchen to the door. 

You start at the very first key. It slots in but refuses to turn. Moving on to the next, and the next in methodological order, bypassing the ones that were too big or small to be entertained. 

You try numerous times but the right key is buried among the many. 

Feeling as if it had been hours since the first key, you felt confident that it was coming up. 

You stuck a key in with no resistance. The hope that died in you reappeared as the lock turned with the key. 

But all too soon it died again, as you felt a hand snake into your hair. It yanks your head harshly back and you find yourself pressed against Coriolanus. 

“That key will get stuck in the door, and it’d be a great pain to get it out again.” 

His hand in your hair pulls you back. 

“I was just going to the kitchen to get some ingredients for a hangover cure. I was coming back.” His hand twists unforgivably in your hair as you make your plea. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he seethes. 

“I am not!” You protest, trying to break free from his grasp. 

“You think I am some type of fool?” 

 Reaching over you, he takes the keys out of the door and leads you back to the bedroom. 

“Coriolanus. Please just listen to me.” 

“If I had listened to you, I would have left the door opened. You spoiled, deceiving, little bitch.” 

He was still drunk. You could smell it from his breath. 

You thought it would make him complacent but it instead made him more violent. 

“I was getting you my father's hangover cure.” 

You stumble as he pushes you over the doorway. 

“You need to trust me, Coriolanus.” 

He shoves you until you are back to your side of the bed. 

“I don’t.”

He throws the keys hard across the room to free his hands. 

“I trust you.” You don’t fight him as he recuffs your chain, instead you willingly go along with it. 

For good measure, you place a kiss on his cheek which throws him off guard. 

“I don’t trust you.” he reiterated softly. 

“That’s ok,” you state, “One day you will. We’ll have a happy life together. You, me, and our children.” 

He looks perplexed at your words but makes no further comment as he lays down by your side, resting his head on you. 

“I’ve tried my best to take care of you. To make you happy.”

“You have.” you console. You were no longer worried about President Ravinstill lasting the night, but rather yourself. 

“Then why-”

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to take care of you.” 

His face turns into your skin. You bring your free hand up to his head and press it down. 

“Everything is ok. Just go to sleep. You’re drunk. You don’t mean it.” 

You run your fingertips up and down starting from behind his ear, down to the bottom of his neck, and up again. You do it until you feel his shallow breaths upon your skin, only then do you release the tears from your eyes.

When you wake the next morning, your wrist is free and Coriolanus is not in bed. 

You rise to find him in the kitchen, frying bacon. Maybe he was too intoxicated last night to remember his anger towards you.

“Good morning,” you offer. He doesn’t return the greeting. Maybe he did remember last night, and you were in a lot of trouble. 

“How are you feeling?” you try again. 

“What’s your father's hangover cure?”

“Two eggs, hot sauce, milk, salt, pepper, and honey”. Your father did not have a hangover cure and it did not include hot sauce or honey, both of which were considered luxury items in the District. 

He looks for the ingredients, slamming the cupboards he turns towards you. “All here.”

“Oh,” you comment, “That’s good. Did you want me to make you one?”

The bacon pops in the pan and you rush over to distract yourself with it. 

“Sit down. I’ll take over cooking”. The bacon was overcooked to the point where it would be barely edible. 

“So what did you need for the compound kitchen last night?”

“I didn’t know we had the items. It's been that long since I cooked, I just assumed we were out.” 

“You assumed you wouldn’t get caught.” 

You sigh. Coriolanus in a bad mood would only mean bad things for you. 

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to help. Are you always going to doubt me?”

“Yes.” he answers, pulling the pan back off you. 

He dumps the bacon onto a plate and takes it to the kitchen table. You begin to clean up after him as he sits and eats. 

The plate is still full by the time he is telling you to go get ready for the day. 

You put on the blue sun dress he likes which acts as a two-second buffer for his anger when he sees you. 

He had paused in the middle of throwing his bacon into the trash. Such a waste of food. You thought. 

But he was determined to stay in his mood. He slides the empty plate across the counter. 

“I am late for work,” he says. 

It was unusual for him not to hold your hand as you walked to his office. You would have to work hard today to please him. 

His tea was already sat upon his desk when you arrived and you rushed to pour him one.

He doesn’t drink it. It goes cold as he does his work. 

You try extra hard to be quiet.  There was sewing left from yesterday which you begin to complete. 

“We still haven’t found your mother,” he says out of the blue after a morning of not speaking or looking at you. 

His words filled you with confidence. If you could get to the mountains, at least you knew you were safe.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 

“Edmund hasn’t returned to his house but there was a rumor that he was swapping meat for medical supplies just yesterday.”

What would he need medical supplies for? You wondered. Was your mother okay? Was he okay?

You needed to see them to make sure.

“He’s probably hiding with your mother in what’s left of the forest. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring your mother home.”

It was a disguised threat. He was trying to get a rise out of you. 

“Good,” you comment. Keep searching the forest while they remain safe in the mountains.

“Good.” he repeats back.

A comfortable silence returns as you both go back to work, but it’s interrupted by his secretary bursting through the doors.

“Sir! Sir!” she gasps. Coriolanus shot up from his chair.

“Commander Vongurt is angry!”

You follow him without a word out of the office.

“The courtyard!” the secretary directs.

You fall behind his fast pace and reach for him blindly to keep from falling too far behind.

A crowd had formed by the time you reached the courtyard. You could hear the familiar sound of flogging and painful cries.

The crowd parts as Coriolanus approaches. In the middle of the bystanders was Commander Vongurt and a young boy curled on the dirt floor.

Coriolanus looks upon the same boy who failed to hit the target on the hot day.

Grabbing the baton from the Commander, he throws it to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Commander Snow,” Vongurt was out of breath from exerting himself in his beating, “This boy is a disgrace to your legacy. I caught him passing scraps to the prisoners through the bars.”

With the protection of Coriolanus, you felt safe enough to speak out, “He’s just a boy.”

“Take him to the jail. He can sleep there for a week if he likes their company so much.”

“Coriolanus!” you take his arm and tug it. He gives you a harsh look and you know you won’t be able to persuade him.

The boy cries out and begins to beg as he is carted away by two others.

“Coriolanus, please!” You tug his arm once more and he hits you harshly across the cheek.  

You stumble upon the impact. The men shuffle away from you as you try and regain your footing. 

Coriolanus takes your arm in a harsh grip, pulling you back in the right direction but he is turned to speak to Vonngurt.

“District 12 is my district. Next time you feel like taking discipline into your own hands, don’t.”

The older Commander nods his head, but you can see he is displeased to have been spoken to in such a manner.

“Let’s go.” He was now talking to you and shoving you forcefully in front of himself back to the office.

You tear yourself free as the door shuts behind you.

“You don’t dictate my decisions.”

Your nose is clogged from your tears. You couldn’t tell if you were crying out of pain or anger. Your brain was still trying to catch up.

“Calling my name,” he says astonished, “It doesn’t matter if you disagree with my decision. Your job is to support me.”

He catches you as you try to make your way from him and he tosses you to the couch, where he stands over you. 

“You embarrassed me. Vongurt already thinks I can’t control my Peacekeepers, now he thinks I can’t control my women as well.”

You cup your bruised cheek. This wasn’t about Vongurt. He was still hurting about your attempt last night. All day he was looking for a reason to lash out, Vongurt only provided the opportunity. 

You were put back on defense. With only at most a month before you were carted off to the Capitol, mistakes couldn’t be afforded.

“I am sorry.” you choke out.  

He squinted his eyes, bringing his hand up to his head before throwing it back again, “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” you spit. There is no sincerity in your voice. 

“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He takes your chin into his hand and pulls it up to his eye level. “Ravinstill is expected to die shortly. This behavior of yours cannot be brought back to the Capitol.”

“It won’t be. I am sorry.” Your fists clench by your side.

He turns your chin to expect your cheek. 

“I did it too. That’s the only reason I spoke out. I would have been thrown in jail too.” you contend.  

He lets go of your chin and stands up to full height, “You think a Peacekeeper would get the same punishment as a District? No. You would have been hanged. Yet another reason to be loyal to me. I’ve saved you.”

“I am loyal to you. Grateful for you.” You get up and follow him as he makes his way to his desk. 

“Coriolanus, please don’t be mad at me. I was only ever trying to help.” 

You sob ugly causing him to spin around. Your cheek hurt, and you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders trying to get away within such a short time frame. You were overwhelmed with the whole scenario and the thought of dealing with Coriolanus as he looked for opportunities to lash out was too much to bear. 

He softens upon your unraveled composure, taking you into his arms. 

“Stop crying. It’s okay”. You feel him rest his head on top of yours. “I am just a little wound up trying to get everything in order. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I am sorry.” 

You smile slightly, he is back on defense. 

—------

Friday came quickly. The call wasn’t until the afternoon so you spent the whole day as a ball of anxiety. 

But at least you had a plan. On evening walks you took more notice of the building surrounding the communications tent, and saw a nurse carrying a load of blankets into a building of washing machines. 

There were few things Coriolanus let you do alone, washing was one of them.

The washing machine in the apartment would need to be dealt with. But the long hours spent in his office meant that the dirty clothes were piling up. He would demand a fresh uniform for work. If you left it close to his phone call with his family, he was sure to let you go. 

You push it out for as long as you can. He had wanted to leave ten minutes ago but you kept pressing him for one more minute. 

You had taken small rocks from the ground during your afternoon walk, telling Coriolanus you would like to take a part of home back to the Capitol with you. He had allowed you to collect a small jar, you picked the biggest rocks you could find. 

Big enough to jam the pipes of the washing machine. 

“Darling, please. We have to leave.” He bangs on the door of the washing room. 

You finish shoving the rocks as far as they would go down the pipe. It made an awful sound as the washing machine ate them up causing the water to rise. 

“Coriolanus,” you call. As soon as you open the door, he grabs your arm, ready to yank you out. 

“Coriolanus. The machine is broken. Look.”

He barely glaces at it, “ I’ll send someone to fix it. Let’s go.” 

“I need to do the washing,” you pick up the basket as he pulls you from the room, “Can I use the compound washing machines?”

“That’s fine. Just move, we are late.” 

You struggle to keep up with him as he rushes along the compound. He hated it if his phone call was cut short by even a second. Now he was two minutes late and he was almost running to make up time for it. 

You reach the building in record time. He lets go of you to pick up speed, leaving you by the door as he hurries.

He rushes to the small screen, not bothering to sit down on the wooden chair as he twisted the knobs. “Tigris, Tigris? Can you hear me?” 

He must have heard a voice on the other side as he broke out into a smile. It was a pretty, genuine smile that you had not seen before. 

“Hey,’’ he laughs.  You watch from where you stand by the door. He seemed almost unrecognizable. A young boy sent away to a summer camp instead of a ruthless and ambitious Commander. “I am sorry. The washing machine broke. How are you?”

His tone is light and happy as he talks to Tigris. You wonder if he had forgotten he even brought you. He didn’t glance at you as he spoke, giving her his full attention. 

You wonder if it is best to make your exit now but his words stop you.

“She’s here.” he waves you over. You drop the basket in coming to him. You wondered what Tigris would look like. What she would sound like. 

Coriolanus holds out the receiver for you. You peer at the screen to see a blonde girl in colorful clothing before you put the receiver to your ear. 

“Hello,” you greet. 

“Oh!” Tigris croons. She pulls the receiver away from her mouth to lessen her shout, “Grandma’am come see!”

She smiles as she turns her attention back to you, “Oh, Coryo has talked so much about you.”

“What is she saying?” Coriolanus places his hands on your hip and pulls down so you are sitting on his knee. 

“She’s said you’ve talked about me,” you answer. 

He smiles gently at you, turning the receiver in your hand out between you. 

An older woman comes too close into the frame and Tigris pulls her back. 

“Is that her?” the old woman asks Tigris who nods. 

“Girl-Girl.” she talks into the speaker. 

“Yes, Ma’am?” 

“You must be grateful he is sending you back to the Capitol. Don’t ruin it like the last one.” 

Coriolanus snatches the receiver away from your ear to soften her words but you heard them any way. 

“Grandma’am is unwell,” he tells you, “Pay her no mind.” 

Tigris takes back the receiver and positions it in a similar fashion to Coriolanus. 

“Did you get the dresses I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you. I was hoping to send you back some shortbread but Coriolanus has been busy with work.” 

“He was saying you cook. Grandma’am and I are so excited to meet you!” 

“Me too,” you lie. “I hear the Capitol is wonderful. I look forward to exploring it with you.” 

Tigris laughs. She was beautiful, you thought. Perhaps too popular to be showing you the capital. You felt foolish for even lying about it. 

“We’ll have a ball. I’ll show you all around.” 

“In time,” Coriolanus interjects. The chains around you would not loosen just because you were in the Capitol. “The Capitol is big. There’ll be time to see it all.” 

You let Coriolanus take over the talking. Only offering agreements or soft smiles as the Snow women talk. 

The family soon falls into a comfortable way of talking. You had said next to nothing for the last 10 minutes, and it had gone unnoticed. It was time to make your way. 

You slowly rise from Coriolanus who latches out on your arm. 

“I’ll just put the washing on. That way it will be done by the time we finish.” 

He tugs you back down causing you to fall into him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Tigris almost cringe. 

“We’ll do it later,” he demands. 

“We’ll be washing well into the night if we leave it any longer. I’ll just pop it on. I’ll be five minutes.”

His face twisted with his words but you kissed him to stop them from leaving his mouth. It was the first time you had ever kissed him on the lips. You could tell by the way his mouth stilled that he was surprised. 

“Five minutes.” You kiss his bottom lip to quell any fight he has in him. Grabbing the phone in the meantime. 

“Tigris. Grandma. I’ll just be 5 Minutes to put the washing on”.

Tigris smiles at you, letting you know that it is fine. You could just barely hear Grandma’am make a comment about how the people in the Capitol don't do their own washing but it is cut off by you shoving the phone back in Coriolanus's hand. 

He cups your face to bring you down for another kiss. 

“Five minutes,” he repeats. 

You smile at him as you pull away. It was too easy, You had won. 

It felt like victory as you picked up the basket and placed it on your hip. You turn back halfway out the door to see he has gone back to talking to his family. 

You don’t make it to the tent. Five steps away from the door and you had dropped the basket and taken off at a fast pace. 

You walk to try not to draw attention to yourself. It worked for the most part. Hardly anyone gave you a glance. You could see the bins coming into sight. Your freedom is just behind them. 

“Hey!” you hear someone call out. You ignore them at first, not thinking they could mean you. But a harsh hold on your arm spun you towards a Peacekeeper. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“What? Nothing”. Your freedom lay not ten feet away but was hindered by a zealous guard. 

“Where’s Commander Snow?” He held you too tight. It interfered with your clear thinking. 

“The communications tent.” 

“Is that where you should be?”

“No,” you try and tug your arm away from him but his nails dig in. “Let go of me. Let go!” 

“Let’s go ask Commander Snow what you should be doing.” The man starts to drag you along as you dig your feet into the dirt. 

“Let go!” you shout. He was sure to notice you gone soon if he hadn’t already. Time was running out. 

In frustration, you slap the Peacekeeper across the face. 

“How dare you touch me. I’ll tell Commander Snow about this. You’ve hurt me. 

You feel his grip loosen on you but he doesn’t let go completely. 

“No, I haven’t!” he says somewhat fearfully, 

“Commander Snow has asked me to get something for him, and not only have you stopped me from doing that but you hurt me in the process. How do you think he will react to that?” 

You manage to tear free from him and give yourself some distance. 

“I am going to do as he asked me, and you are going to do your duties like you should be doing. Otherwise, I’ll report you to the Commander." 

The Peacekeeper mulls over his course of action before raising his hands.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Excuse me.” 

You turn your back on him and quicken your steps to your destination. Making sure the coast is clear, you crawl behind the large bins. You couldn’t see any broken fence behind it. 

Did they find it? Have you just made a fatal mistake?

You continue to crawl, placing your hand on the metal for any movement. 

The chain bends showing cut wire as they bend. Relief washing through you. 

It digs harshly into you as you pull yourself through. 

You could have kissed the dirt on the other side. Freedom. Edmund. 

The guard in the tower above you looks out across the field. You keep under his eyesight as you slide across the fence as quietly as you can. 

It runs out, leaving ten feet of open field before the safety of the forest. Ten feet and then you were free. There was no cover, meaning that the guard could easily spot you if he was looking. 

You say a silent prayer that the guard will keep his focus straight before you take the chance of discovery. 

You leap across the field, throwing yourself upon the first tree you touch. The bark smashed your bruised cheek as you waited for the sirens to sound. 

He mustn’t have seen you. You had got away. 

You take a second to laugh as quietly as you can. Run, a voice in your head told you. You regain your breath and do. You run as fast as you can, taking the backroads back to your home. 

Your lungs burn, willing you to stop but you keep going until your house is in view. You only slow down to stop drawing attention to yourself. 

People had started to return home from work. You could see them as you walked along the back of their houses. You're careful not to be seen. 

The back steps of your place come under your feet, and your caution disappears as you fling yourself into your home. 

Edmund was sitting at the kitchen table dressing a rabbit he caught. 

He stood up. Turning his knife towards you thinking you were an intruder. 

You knew he would never hurt you so you throw your arms around his shoulders despite the threat. 

The knife drops and he takes you into his arms. 

“I was so worried.” he breathed. 

“We have to go. We need to leave,” you state but make no attempt to pull away. 

He does pull away, throwing the rabbit into his hunting sack and picking up his knife. You take his bloody hand and he leads you back out the back door and into the forest. 

The walk to the mountains takes well into the night. You both do it silently. What was there to say? There was still a long road to safety. 

You stay as close as you could to him. Always holding his hand or latched onto his arm. 

The mountain trail is tough and you wonder how he made it up with your mother on his back. He knew the way well, having worked in the mines nearly all his life. He warned you of which boulders were loose, and when you tripped over he caught you as if he almost expected it. 

You were worn out by the time you reached the campsite. Rows and rows of small wooden houses for the miners. All were empty this time of year as it got too dark too early and not light enough too late for the hours they worked. 

You saw a freshly put-out fire and knew that your mother was close. 

“Your mothers in that one,” he pointed to the right cabin, “My family’s in the next one.” 

For the first time in the hour's walk, you tore free from him and ran into your mother's cabin. 

It was a relief to see her sleeping figure. You throw yourself on top of her and begin crying.  

She wakes in fright but knows the figure of her daughter well. She throws her arms around you and joins you in crying. 

You were home. You were safe. 

—---------

As soon as the door closed, Coriolanus felt as if he had made a mistake. He trusted you.

You were better now. Doing well. He could trust you. 

But Tigris’s words made no sense to him. You were coming back. 

He tried to focus on his family but he eyes the door expectantly. 

Dread fills him. How long did it take to put on washing? 

“Coriolanus?” he hears Tigris call.

He dashes out of his chair. He had made a very big mistake. 

“Coriolanus?” the receiver resounds. 

Upon opening the door he is met with his washing by his feet. He takes off running to his apartment. You were sick the other day, maybe you had fallen ill again and taken to bed.

He pushed past Peacekeepers as he ran to his steps. Taking them two at a time he reaches the top and pushes open the unlocked door. It was only ever locked to keep someone in, never someone out. He calls out for you but is met with silence. 

He opened every door along the way to the bedroom, hoping you were just hiding. 

He calls your name again and again until falling silent upon the empty bed. You weren’t here. Coriolanus had made a big mistake. 

Clicking the radio built into the collar of his shirt, he demands that the compound is shut down.

“Has anyone been through the gates?” Both leading officers of the two entryways confirm that no one has. The Peacekeepers are diverted into searching the compound for you.

Coriolanus joins too. He didn’t trust the ability of his Peacekeepers. He searched every nook and cranny of every office and building he could find. His temper flared the longer the search went on. 

You had to be in the compound. How could you have got out?

He returns to his apartment. Maybe you had returned upon hearing the sirens. 

A cat catches his attention as it sits meowing and eating bits of food from the ground that the birds had managed to pick out. 

He had never seen a cat in the compound before. Could it have got in the same way you got out? 

He walks over to search it for any clues it might have but it runs off as he comes closer. 

He chases it behind the bin where he watches it slip through the bent wire in the fence. 

You had got away. Now at large in the districts. 

He sighs deeply before taking his rage out on the back of the bins, bashing and kicking at it until he is forced to lean against it to catch his breath. 

A search party would be sent out, interrogations would be issued. Someone had to have seen you along the way. He would find you and he would bring you home to him. 

Taglist:

@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw

@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

@urfavnoirette

 @aleemendoza2425-blog

@hiatuswhore

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@tempt-ress

@serinatly100986

@becauseseaotters

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@inloveallthetime

[https-harlow]

She's Totally Flirting With You

Summary- Jack gets hit on by a waitress, though he thinks she's just being nice, Paisley and Olive come to your defense to convince Jack she's flirting with him.

Jack had surprised you, Paisley, Olive, and Hayden with a family date, to a restaurant that the girls loved but was a little too fancy to take them to on a regular basis because even though they were pretty well-behaved, you didn’t want to accidentally become the family with misbehaving kids in a fancy restaurant.

You and Olive sat on one side of the booth, while Jack and Paisley sat on the other, Hayden sitting in a highchair on the side of the table. You could tell immediately that the waitress was flirting with Jack. 

“What can I get you to drink?” She asked Jack first, placing her hand on his shoulder. Jack placed his drink order before she turned her attention to the girls. “And what do you two princesses want?” 

“Daddy, can I get an orange soda?” Paisley asked, Jack nodded.

“Yeah, do you want the same thing Liv?” Jack asked.

“I want strawberry lemonade, please.” Olive said.

“And can we get water for both of them too?” Jack asked and she nodded. She took your drink order before turning her attention back to Jack.

“Anything else I can get you?”

“Can we go ahead and get a side of fries for the kids and let’s go ahead and get a second orange soda, she’ll want it as soon as she sees her sister have it,” Jack said and the waitress laughed.

“Of course, that’s so sweet that you’re thinking ahead,” She said, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll be right back with all of that,” She let her hand linger on his shoulder as she walked away. The girls already going back to coloring.

“She’s totally flirting with you,” You said, and Jack laughed softly.

“No, she’s not, she’s just being nice.” Jack said, shrugging it off.

“If you want to call that just being nice, then okay,” You said sarcastically.

“She probably just knows who I am and doesn’t want to say something since I’m with family or something.”

She came back a few minutes later, placing all the drinks down, coming a minute later with the fries.

“I brought a couple extra plates, so they don’t have to share plates, I know I hated sharing when I was little, especially with my siblings,” She laughed softly. You and Jack split the fries between the girls, keeping a couple for Hayden, since he was eight months old you were letting him try different soft foods. “Neither of you look old enough to have three kids, are they all yours?” She asked, trying to make small talk.

“Yeah, they are all ours,” Jack answered, “We’ve been together for nine years, plenty of time to have a couple kids,” He joked.

“Do you guys know what you want to order?” She asked, her demeanor suddenly changing. You all placed your orders before she walked away again.

“Still going to tell me she’s not flirting with you?” You asked and Jack shrugged. “She literally has puppy dog eyes when she looks at you.”

“Well, maybe she’ll stop now that she knows we’re together.”

She came back a few minutes later to check on everything before checking on the table next to you.

“She needs to stop flirting with you Daddy.” Paisley said, loud enough for the waitress to hear. You smirked as you handed Hayden another fry.

“Do you even know what flirting is Paise?” Jack asked and she shook her head.

“No, but if Mommy doesn’t like it, then neither do I. You love Mommy not her,” She said.

“Well, you're right, I do love Mommy,” Jack said in agreement.

“She looks at you like Sadie does when you have food that she wants,” Olive said, taking a bite out of her fry. You and Jack couldn’t help but laugh at Olive’s comment.

“Where did you get that from?” You asked her.

“You say Sadie gives puppy dog eyes when Daddy has food, and you said that she’s giving Daddy puppy dog eyes,” Olive shrugged. Hayden started to get fussy in his highchair, so you took him out while you waited for your food.

“See, even the girls think she’s flirting.”

“Oh, they are just copying what they heard you say.”

“Maybe, but are you going to tell them she’s not and lie to them?” You teased and Jack fake gasped.

“Yeah Daddy, you can’t lie to us, that wouldn’t be nice,” Paisley said.

“Am I being ganged up on by my wife and daughters?” Jack said sarcastically.

“Maybe,” You smirked. “Even Hayden’s on my side, huh?” You asked Hayden and he giggled.

“Okay, okay, maybe I was wrong,” Jack said. “God, I’m screwed when they are teenagers, aren’t I?” 

“You’re the one who wanted eight daughters,” You teased.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404 @hufflewhore128 @christinabae

[wordsarelife]

—invisible string

pairing: isaac lahey x fem!reader

summary: the three times isaac and you realized that you were connected by an invisible string

warnings: none i think

note: just imagine kitchen and dining room of the mccall house being in different rooms please!!

1. when you guys met for the first time

isaac lahey did not expect anyone to jump to his rescue, let alone give him a home in a world where he had no place to go. maybe it was just because he always thought that he did not deserve that kind of care. and he had been right, right until he had met scott mccall at least.

the boy that had made it his mission to save isaac and bring him home with him. like a friend, or even a brother.

at first it was hard for isaac to face that it was just incredible kindness that motivated scott to do what he did, he didn't have a reason for it, it was not of any worth, no, actually, it was just nice.

"tell me if you need anything else" scott patted his shoulder, before he left the guest room, leaving isaac sitting on the bed.

"thank you" isaac muttered more to himself than anyone else, hiding his face in his hands and breathing out in relief. he was safe and he knew it.

when he came down to dinner later, scott was already setting the table. isaac turned his head to look into the kitchen, but there was no sight of melissa, just an unfamiliar girl, who was stirring a pot.

the first thing that he noticed were the amount of bracelets that covered your arms, they did not have any specific color, they were ranging from pink to brown to green and they nearly covered your entire arms up to the elbow.

you were also incredibly beautiful, as you were starring into the pot in deep concentration, not even noticing his eyes on you.

"isaac?" scott called and isaac turned his head, walking away from the kitchen and back into the dining room.

"where's your mom?" he asked, taking the glasses from scott and setting them down on the table.

"she had to take an extra shift" scott explained.

"okay" isaac nodded "who's the girl in the kitchen?"

"girl in the kitchen?" scott repeated laughing "are you trying to prank me?"

isaac shook his head, unsure if scott was joking or if he really didn't know that there was a girl in his kitchen.

"she's cooking" isaac shrugged and scott furrowed his brows, seemingly just now noticing the smell of warm and delicious soup that was hanging in the air.

"mom left us some soup" scott said "but i still have to warm it" he looked between dining room and kitchen in confusion. "girl in the kitchen" he repeated again, muttering to himself.

"i already warmed it for you" you said as you entered the room, under both boys surprised shrieking, the pot filled with soup in your hand. you set it down on the table.

"y/n" scott breathed, directing a hand to his chest as he sighed in relief.

"hey" you smiled, before you hugged the boy. "you must be isaac" you shook isaacs hand smiling "i'm y/n"

"what are you even doing here?" scott asked, before isaac was able to answer the greeting "i thought you weren't back for another week"

"well i got off a bit sooner, but thanks for beeing so cheerful about it" you laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a plate for yourself.

"is she a friend of yours?" isaac asked "and if so, why have i never met her?"

"yeah, she's stiles' younger sister" scott explained as he sat down and isaac followed his example "she was studying abroad for a year"

"stiles should be here any minute" you noted, taking a look on your phone as you sat down across from the boys. "but i think it would be alright if we began to eat without him"

"so you're back huh?" scott nodded "and the first thing you decide is to come back here.. wait, how did you even come inside?"

"oh" you laughed, filling your plate with soup "i came through the window"

"if that isn't the typical stilinski manner" scott muttered disapprovingly.

"i could come through your bedroom window and step onto your face if you would like that more" you said defensively, "i thought the kitchen window was a good alternative, not my fault you leave them open all the time"

"i'm sorry" scott rolled his eyes, deciding that it was no use to fight with you. "how have you been?"

"good" you smiled "look at these" you raised your arms, displaying the colorful bracelets "my kids made them for me before i left"

"your kids?" isaac asked, hesitantely engaging in the conversation.

"i trained a dance team" you explained "all the girls made me bracelets so that i wouldn't forget them"

"that’s cool” isaac muttered, before he quickly looked down when your eyes fell on him.

you smiled. "so scott told me you're living with him now, how's the mccall household treating you?"

scott chuckled at the motherly tone you were speaking in, always the protector.

"it's pretty fresh" isaac answered and felt a lot less uncomfortable when he looked up and saw you smile "but i really appreciate it"

"that's great" you laughed. isaac noticed you opening your mouth to maybe ask another question when you were interrupted by a sound upstairs.

a mere second later, stiles was walking down the stairs. "hey guys"

"could you both please stop coming into the house through the windows?" scott asked "it's weird"

"no it's not" you and stiles said at the same time. your brother smiled as you patted the seat next to you. "i made soup"

"no" scott corrected "my mom made soup, you just happened to break into my house and warm it up before i got the chance to"

"your mom... your house" you muttered "these are harsh words to throw at someone who's been practically saving your ass since middle school, scotty"

"yeah, aren't we all a big family?" stiles asked outstretching his hands in scott's direction, who looked unamused at the siblings chatter.

"yeah" isaac nodded.

"not you blondie" stiles hissed, quickly smiling again as he noticed scott's disapproving look.

"oh, how i missed you both together" scott sighed, continuing to eat, while stiles and you started a discussion about the ending of the most recent star wars film.

isaac watched amused how everything seemed to set back into place, your dynamic making it clear that the three of you were like siblings. deep down he wished that he had something like this as well, a friendship that could make all his sorrows disappear.

later when isaac was up in the guest room, unpacking a few things, there was a knock on his door. thinking that it was scott, isaac called the person in without looking.

"looks pretty comfortable" it was not scott, but you who was now standing in the door.

"uh, yeah" isaac answered unsurely, clutching his hand to the back of his neck.

"scott told me about derek" you said, catching him off-guard "and i just wanted to say that i know that he can be harsh sometimes, but he'll come around"

"thank you" isaac nodded, sitting down the last of his pictures.

"is that your mom?" you asked, walking closer to him. isaac nodded and you smiled "i think i have seen her before, i think she went to high school with my mom"

"really?" isaac asked suprised at your revelation.

"we met her a few times" you continued "my mom told me a few stories, they were friends i believe"

"huh" isaac huffed "funny"

"yeah" you smiled "it really is"

his body felt lighter at the warm feeling of familiarity that entered his chest. maybe, after all, the kind of friendship he was longing for wasn't so far away.

2. picking you up from the worst date of your life

the phone vibrated off the night table, but isaac caught it before it could hit the ground. he wasn't really awake yet, having gone to bed a bit sooner than normal. as he threw a look at his alarm clock, he noticed the time being well past midnight.

"hello?" his voice was hoarse, but it seemed like the person on the other end did not mind.

"isaac?" you asked and he sat up straight as he recognized your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes, it's me" he could hear you cry into the phone "could you come and pick me up?"

he was already putting on his pants, before your voice had even come to the end of the sentence. "where are you?"

it took a few seconds for you to respond. "i'm at the school, i'm walking there now"

"are you alone?" isaac asked surprised, recalling the date with a boy from your year you had told him about just a day before.

"yes" you muttered into the phone. isaac walked out of the house and got into his car. "the date was horrible"

"i'm sorry" he said, unsure what he could answer instead, as he drove onto the street "i'll stay on the phone, okay? i'll be there in five minutes"

"i'm sorry for calling" you cried, the guilt lacing your voice "i probably woke you up, but i didn't know who else to call"

"it's alright, don't worry about it"

"no, it's not" he could hear you shake your head "i would've called stiles or scott, but they've gone on that stupid trip to who knows where trying to get this artifact"

"yeah, yeah, i know" isaac could already see the school coming closer "are you there yet? at the school i mean"

"yeah, i'm standing on the parking lot"

just a moment later, the car came to a halt and you opened the door, sliding into the seat next to him. you were wearing a black dress, one that was making you look even more beautiful than normally. your hair was flowing over your shoulders and your make up was ruined by the black mascara that was still dripping over your cheeks.

"hey" isaac said softly "you look beautiful"

you laughed, closing your eyes "i look anything but beautiful" you argued "thank you for coming, i would've walked home, but-"

he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence "-i'm glad you called"

"thank you" you said again and isaac just smiled, driving the car back onto the street. he pressed the radio, making the cd that was still in it start to play.

"paramore?" you asked susprised "i wouldn't have held you for a fan"

isaac laughed "i even went to their concert a few years ago"

"really? so did i" you gushed "which year?"

"2006"

"me too" you laughed "who would've thought"

your sadness evaporated into thin air, as you continued to listen to the music, both isaac and you singing along to it softly, making you laugh at how terrible the both of you sounded.

isaac's body felt lighter at the warm feeling of familiarity that entered his chest for the second time since the both of you had met. maybe, after all, there was a much more important reason why your date had went the way it did. maybe something had changed.

3. discovering you were soulmates all along

you were following your brother and scott into the basement of the old church, careful not to trip over the ruins that were scattered all around.

isaac was close behind you, holding your hand to stabalize your walk.

derek was already down there, calling for the four of you to hurry up, which made you roll your eyes.

"it's not like i'm a werewolf who can run down there without getting hurt"

isaac grunted at your words, squeezing your hand.

when the four of you entered the dark room, derek was already leaning against the wall, arms crossed staring at you disapprovingly.

"i hope you didn't have to wait for too long" you smiled sarcastically and derek rolled his eyes, making a displeasured sound.

"what are we even searching for?" isaac asked as he watched scott and stiles walk through the room, looking around.

"anything" scott shrugged and stiles grimaced at his best friends words.

"to put it clearly" the boy said "we don't know yet, but i'll guarantee that you will as soon as it enters your hand" he patted isaac's shoulder, before he continued searching the room.

"fine" isaac muttered and you followed him to look at an old desk that was overflown by stacks of paper. silence flew over the five of you, as you continued sorting through the papers, only interrupted by isaac or you giggling when one of you would make a whispered joke.

"woah" scott's voice bounced off the walls and made all of you turn your heads at the mccall boy.

"what the—" stiles said, joining scott's side and looking at whatever it was that scott was holding in his hand. even derek had grown suspicious, lurking over the heads of both boys, before all three, scarily at the same time, looked up at isaac and you across from them.

"what?" you laughed uncomfortably, not enjoying your friends surprised staring. "did i accidently ruin a christian artifact again?" you asked as no one answered.

"again?" isaac asked you confused, you shook your head, silently telling him that now was not the right time to talk about your past mishaps.

"what is it?" you were slowly reaching the point were slight annoyance was ready to turn into anger. "can one of your start speaking?"

"it's a picture" derek said in typical derek manner.

"wow, thank you" you smiled sarcastically, before you crossed the room, snatching the picture out of scott's hand. your blood ran cold when your eyes fell on it and your smile died.

you looked up, watching isaac, then your eyes darted immediately back to the picture. you continued doing that over and over again.

"y/n?" isaac asked, unsurely. he had hoped that you getting the picture from scott would allow him an answer to your friends weird behaviour, instead you were now acting just as weird.

he stepped closer to you and without a word, you turned the picture and held it in his direction. it was a picture of the exact church you were in right now, taken in front of the alter.

there were two people, dressed formally, no doubt husband and wife, who were both smiling into the camera. isaacs eyes darted across the picture, searching for any kind of information, maybe this was just a joke.

"marlene and ian lawson" he read "june of 1847"

"this is a joke, right?" you asked. it had to be, because both people in the picture were looking like carbon copies of you and isaac.

"i don't think so" scott muttered behind you.

isaac's eyes were still fixated on the picture. using his finger, he gently slid over the woman's dress, the white gown easily slipping over the floor of the church. while she was looking into the camera, her husband was only focused on her, his smile so precious that you could read the love from it directly.

"it has to be" you insisted "isaac"

he looked up suddenly as his name rang out from your mouth. his body felt lighter at the warm feeling of familiarity that entered his chest. his eyes were crashing into yours and your look of anger was gone, softening your features.

"i don't think it is a joke, y/n" isaac shook his head "i think it's more than that"

isaac had never felt the feeling he was experiencing now, but it almost felt like a part of his soul was connecting to yours, intertwining them like two hands that had been searching for each other for a long time.

you furrowed your brows "you think this means something, something for us?"

"i don't know" isaac shrugged "it could"

just watching you, was like flowing in warm water, the water never rose, it was always calm, safe from every storm.

your friends turned around, not quite understanding what the two of you were talking about, going back to their initial task of searching for clues, as you took the picture out of isaac's hand. you opened your bag, slowly pushing it inside.

"i will keep it for us" you assured, before you kissed his cheek, doing the same as the others and going back to work.

isaac felt something in him sink, not in a bad way. more like an anchor that was thrown into the water, making sure that the ship would not leave the harbor, making sure that he would never leave you.

[good-beanswrites]

Some LCSYS thoughts to make me feel better after the new update ;-; More Mahiru-centric, but Haruka and Shidou are definitely here chillin. At some point I'll need to rewrite that last chapter, too, ough...

“Alright, is everybody ready for Curtain Ca–”

“Stop!” Mahiru pressed a finger to Jackalope’s lips, despite the look of exasperation he gave her. “No work talk at a party.” She breezed away from him to the table where the others were gathered.

At the very beginning of planning, as she was pitching the idea of recognizing everyone’s birthday along with hers, Mahiru had placed an order for ten whole cakes. She insisted that the others would miss out on getting a proper one during the trials. Jackalope insisted that ten was a ridiculous number of cakes to have. They ended up comprising on three – a personalized one for each of the prisoners that would be staying behind. (Jackalope would have pointed out that it defeated the purpose, since they were the ones that could now ask for a cake any day they wanted, but he was just glad she had agreed to the terms.)

He followed her to the spread of treats. “I know you’re disappointed, but eventually you’ll have to face that the others are leaving. We have a few last timelines to write up, and then you’ll have to deal with a very short break from–”

“Please!” She pouted her bottom lip. “It’s Mahiru’s birthday, for goodness sake!”

Jackalope crossed his arms. “I thought you said today was everybody’s birthday…”

She looked pointedly away. “I said we’re celebrating everybody’s birthday, but we’re holding it on my birthday.”

“Interesting.”

He reluctantly left her as Yuno called him over to the games corner. Mahiru fluttered a goodbye wave. Shidou and Mikoto joined them at cake table, both sipping from color-coded cups Mahiru had organized.

“Oi Mappi,” Mikoto held his drink out to her. “You should try one of these! Kazu-san’s been making them, I forget what he calls them, but they’re great. You want a sip?”

Mahiru turned him down. A hand tugged gently on Mikoto’s sleeve.

“U-um! Can I try a sip?”

He stayed firmly facing away, feigning confusion. “Huh, what was that?”

“Just a-a little sip.”

“Ahhh… you know, I really miss Haru-kun.”

“Mikoto-saaaan.”

He wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “You know, sometimes I can still hear his voice…”

“Pleeease? Y-you said you were gonna see how many you could get Fuuta-san to-to drink tonight!”

Mikoto choked back a sip as Shidou’s eyebrows raised. “Fuuta’s over twenty! I wouldn’t give alcohol to a kid, that’s a crime, y’know?”

Before any of them could poke fun about his choice of words, Muu marched over to them. She held out a slice of purple-frosted cake on her plate and wrinkled her nose. “Shidou-san, something’s wrong with your cake. It’s horrible.”

“Oh no, there’s nothing wrong with it.” Shidou smiled. “It’s vegan.”

“Oh.” Her scrunched face didn’t change. “Muu’s going to get a different piece…” She grabbed Haruka by the hand, leading him away to his own cake. Mahiru noticed she was wearing the gift that Haruka had given her. Birthday presents hadn’t been part of the big party plan, but a few sentimental gifts had been exchanged. Jackalope was still mentally weighing what could be taken into the prison without raising suspicion, while the prisoners were mentally weighing what could be snuck into their cell whether he agreed to it or not.

Shidou frowned. “You better have been joking about Kajiyama-kun.”

“Eh, that’s not a crime.”

“Please.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m already losing sleep about the toll this all will take on Es-kun. Don’t do anything next trial to make me worry about the rest of you, too.”

“Es-kun…” Mahiru’s expression darkened.

Across the room came a laugh. “Come on doc, don’t you trust us?” Kotoko asked the question with a crooked smirk, heading over from where the game was breaking up. By the way Yuno lead Amane in a gloating walk, it was clear who had won. “I can assure you, everything is under control.”

“Why don’t we talk about something else?” Mahiru offered, her wide smile bordering on frantic. “Everyone keeps talking about Milgram, Milgram, Milgram! Let’s talk about something nice, mm? Kazui-san, tell me that funny story you were just telling Shidou-san!”

Kotoko gave her a look. “Have you already forgot your big conversation…?”

“Not at all! I remember every word he said to me.” Mahiru clasped her hands together. She relaxed her face, her eyes closed in perfect peacefulness. “I’m learning to live in the moment. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

“No. You still need to deal with your negative emotions head-on. So, do you have something you want to get off your chest before we head back in there?”

Mahiru was met with pleasant gazes from all sides. A few nodded in encouragement. “I… I actually do.”

She inhaled for a moment. She exhaled just as long. She looked around at the faces around her. She saw the half-eaten cakes. The board games scattered around. The gift wrapping and the cards. She studied the smiles all turned her way.

Lunging at Kotoko, she wrapped her in a tight embrace. Her voice trembled with tears. “Happy birthday.”

She was met with a loud sigh, and Kotoko returned the hug.

“Ah… you’re nuts.”

From the back of the group, Jackalope frantically typed something up on his phone. “Damn, that’s good,” he muttered.

[pascalhowlett]

Ethereal Chapter 4

A/N: HELLO HI VERY IMPORTANT! This chapter has some triggering scenarios when it comes to r!pe and non-consensual relationships between Geta and Cecilia. If that is something that triggers you, I ask you please do not read this chapter!

If you prefer to read on AO3, that can be found here!

Warnings: Mentions of r*pe, implied r*pe, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, smut

Summary: After the Roman Empire takes over Numidia, Cecilia is purchased by Emperor Geta as a pawn in his attempts to take over Rome. What will happen when she meets General Marcus Acacius, the soldier who was responsible for the death of her lover, Atticus Claudius?

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Original Female Character

This is Chapter 4! Find the rest of the chapters on my Tumblr here!

Word Count: 3k

That evening, Cecilia took her place beside Geta at the long dining table. Caracalla sat across from them, his expression a perpetual mask of discontent. The feast laid out before them was almost obscene in its abundance—a spread that could have easily satisfied a dozen soldiers, yet it was prepared for only the three of them. Golden loaves of bread still warm from the oven, succulent porchetta glistening with herbs and juices, bowls of vibrant fruits bursting with color, and pitchers of red wine stood in silent testament to the brothers’ grotesque privilege.

Despite the abundance of Roman delicacies, Cecilia could barely touch the slice of bread resting on her plate. Her stomach churned, not with hunger, but with unease. She knew she had to sing a different tune with Geta now in order to make him believe she had become smitten.

“I cannot believe the General,” Geta suddenly muttered, his voice thick with disdain as he speared a piece of meat. “Running off like a coward and leaving us to fend for ourselves. Taking my wife like she is more important than us”

Caracalla snorted in agreement, his grip tightening on his glass. “The man deserves nothing less than execution for such betrayal. Beheading would be a mercy for General Acacius.”

Cecilia hesitated, her fingers brushing the rim of her cup. She noticed that their words about the General angered her in a way they had not before. “He was shocked, that’s all,” she said softly, willing her voice to remain steady. “I’ll make sure he understands his duty—to protect the both of you—next time.”

“Next time?” Geta shot her a sharp look, his brow furrowing. “Where did he even take you, Cecilia? I pray there will not be a next time.”

“He… he just brought me back to the palace,” she replied, forcing a smile that she hoped seemed genuine as she picked at her food. “I stayed in our room until you both arrived.”

Geta seemed satisfied with her answer, nodding as he resumed eating, though Caracalla’s narrowed eyes lingered on her a moment longer. Cecilia lowered her gaze to her untouched bread, her heartbeat quickening. Lies came easier with practice, but the weight of them never lessened.

She still was shaken up from the news of Atticus. She felt betrayed, like he had been lying to her. What would she have done if Acacius hadn’t told her? She asked herself. 

Breaking the tense silence, she looked to Geta, her voice trembling despite herself. “Geta, my love?”

Her words felt foreign, unnatural, as if they belonged to someone else. She cringed inwardly, but there was no turning back now.

“Speak, little dove,” Geta commanded, putting down his utensils to drink his wine.

“I…I just wanted to apologize for my behavior at the games today,” she swallowed, she felt like her throat was swelling as she forced the words, “I love you, and I shouldn’t speak unless spoken to.”

For a moment, silence once again enveloped the room, broken only by the faint crackle of the torches mounted on the walls and the clinks of dishes as they were passed about the table. Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her with a faint smirk curling his lips.

“Well, well,” he mused, swirling his wine. “I suppose even a bird can learn its place with proper training.” He reached across the table and tilted her chin up with a finger, his grip deceptively gentle. “You’ll remember that next time, won’t you, my dear?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. “I will, your highness.”

Caracalla snorted softly but said nothing, his eyes flicking between Geta and Cecilia before returning to his plate. Cecilia lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning with humiliation. She fought to steady her breathing, desperate to hold onto the mask she wore.

Beneath it all, her mind churned, replaying the words of General Acacius. Atticus had known of the plans that were made for her. He’d lied. The sting of it was almost unbearable, but now was not the time to unravel. If she crumbled in this room filled with watchful eyes, she would lose more than her pride.

She forced herself to lift her goblet, the wine sloshing slightly as her hands trembled. “To your honor both of you,” she said to the brothers, her voice thin but clear.

Geta raised his cup, his smirk broadening. “To mine.”

As they drank, Cecilia’s thoughts swirled with growing clarity The room buzzed with conversation again, but Cecilia’s mind was already elsewhere, turning over the plans she barely dared to entertain. If she wanted to survive, she would need more than apologies and submission. She would have to give him what he really wanted. 

“Will the games continue tomorrow?” she asked, assuming she could speak.

Geta paused, his goblet midway to his lips. His dark eyes fixed on her, narrowing slightly, as though weighing whether her question warranted his breath. “They will,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “Why do you ask?”

Cecilia hesitated, feeling the weight of Caracalla’s gaze settle on her like a predator studying prey once more. She licked her lips, trying to keep her tone neutral. “I was just curious,” she replied. “The people seemed so lively today. I thought they might want more.”

Caracalla let out a sharp laugh, setting his goblet down with a thud. “The people always want more,” he sneered. “Blood and spectacle—that’s all they understand. That’s all they’re good for. But I must say, I find pleasure in it as well.”

“Enough,” Geta said, raising a hand to silence his brother. He turned his attention back to Cecilia. “If you must know, tomorrow’s games will be grander. More beasts, more gladiators, more death.” A thin smile played on his lips. “I imagine you’ll enjoy it, little dove.”

Cecilia forced a small smile, though her stomach twisted at the thought. She nodded, lowering her eyes to her plate. “Of course, my love,” she said softly, “I am sure whatever you two have planned will be a spectacle.”

“What I have planned, little dove,” Geta corrected her, “Caracalla is no use when executing the games. He does no more than pleasure himself to the sight of the gladiators’ bloodshed.”

Caracalla’s goblet clinked against the table loudly as he set it down with deliberate force. “Careful, brother,” he said, his voice low but dangerous. “Your tongue wags a little too fiercely.”

“Oh, does it?” Geta replied, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Tell me, what exactly do you contribute, Caracalla? Besides criticism and the release of your desires?”

The tension between the brothers thickened, and Cecilia sat frozen, her pulse quickening. The air felt charged, like a storm waiting to break. She did not realize how much they argued, purely to see who was more powerful than the other.

“I contribute more than you could ever hope to understand,” Caracalla shot back, his eyes narrowing. “While you play your games and parade your purchased wife like a pompous fool, I see the bigger picture. The games are nothing without the politics behind them, the alliances they secure. The relationships they create. Perhaps you should pay attention to the matches rather than your trophy of a woman.”

Geta’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, waving a dismissive hand. “Politics,” he scoffed. “You mean the web of lies you so enjoy weaving? Spare me.”

“Enough,” Cecilia interjected softly, surprising even herself with her words. Both men turned to her, their sharp gazes cutting like knives deep into her soul. Her heart pounded, but she kept her voice steady. “Please, this is dinner, not a battlefield.”

For a moment, neither brother spoke. Then Geta chuckled, breaking the silence. “You see, Caracalla? Even my little dove has more sense than you.”

Caracalla’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, reaching for his goblet instead as he shot daggers at Cecilia. She exhaled quietly.  The tension had momentarily diffused, but she knew it was far from gone. The animosity between the brothers was a fire constantly smoldering. She took a sip of her wine. If she could navigate their rivalry, perhaps there was a way to exploit it. If they were too busy fighting each other, they might overlook her. And if they overlooked her, she could crumble the two of them from within.

The conversation moved on without her, Geta and Caracalla discussing the logistics of the games and the political power they wielded through them. Their voices faded into a dull hum in her ears as she stared at the table, her mind elsewhere.

Tomorrow. The games would be bigger, louder, bloodier. She would be expected to sit there, to smile and applaud like a devoted wife. But the thought of it churned her stomach. Tomorrow would come, and with it, more pointless death. But perhaps, it would also bring a chance to tip the scales. 

The only comfort she could find as she tried to prepare herself for the games was the idea of General Acacius. Even if she had to act like she enjoyed the horrid events, she would have the General to guide her, to ground her. Even amidst the looming dread of faux smiles and forced applause, the idea of his presence brought a sense of peace. She thought about his embrace that seemed to pull her in when she felt she was drifting away. The same embrace that kept her sane when her world had changed forever just mere hours ago. In that moment, as her world had tilted and fractured, his touch had grounded her, keeping her from drifting into the darker corners of her mind.

The memory was bittersweet. She thought about his broad stature, the way he exudes a commanding yet understated allure, a quiet confidence that draws the eye without demanding one’s attention. She thought of his bold attributes—sharp cheekbones softened by a well-kept, gray beard. His face carried a weathered charm, as if etched by the passage of time and the weight of countless decisions. His gaze is always one full of thought, one that always peered into his soul. 

There’s a sense of quiet passion about him, an intensity that suggests he loves with the same fierce devotion he brings to his duties. The thought of that overwhelms her, a crimson blush painting her cheeks as she brings herself back to the dinner table. There was comfort in the thought of Acacius, but also an uneasiness that ebbed and flowed along with it. She knew her reliance on him was growing into a…dependence. That scared her, especially after the news of Atticus’ dishonesty.

“Little dove,” Geta said, bringing her back to reality, “are you ready for bed?” 

Her stomach churned, not for sleep, but for the forced implications of laying with the emperor. “Yes, my love,” she stated, standing from the table and bidding goodnight to Caracalla.

Caracalla smirked at the two of them. “You should send her my way sometime, brother,” he nearly laughed, “we always enjoyed each other’s company at the brothel.”

Cecilia froze, Caracalla’s suggestive words hung in the air. Her face burned with humiliation, though she refused to look at Caracalla. She was always disgusted with him, but he was always the highest bidder, of course. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, hidden by the folds of her dress.

Geta’s expression darkened, an arm wrapping around his wife as he spoke. “Watch your tongue, Caracalla,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “She’s mine now, and I don’t share.”

Caracalla chuckled, raising his goblet in mock surrender. “Of course, brother,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” But the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise, a deliberate taunt that left the tension evident. Caracalla was a disgusting man. She knew Caracalla probably did dream of her, her image radiating in his disturbing fantasies. Emperor Caracalla did not care if Cecilia was wed to his brother, he would have her either way.

Cecilia forced herself to move towards her shared bedroom with Geta, her legs stiff as she stepped away from the table. Every step felt like she had bricks tied to her ankles. As she reached the doorway, she dared a glance back to look at her husband. Geta was looking at her hungrily, his eyes full of lust and desire. 

There was no denying that Geta considered Cecilia one of the most beautiful women in Rome. She had heard him boast about her beauty countless times to senators, dignitaries, and even his own brother. But to her, his admiration felt hollow, empty and seated only in expected desire. She wasn’t his equal, nor his partner. She was his possession—a living, breathing trophy he displayed to assert his dominance in comparison to his older brother. 

Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as she tried to collect herself. She had learned long ago how to endure, how to play the role of a pleasured woman. But tonight, as the memory of Caracalla’s taunt echoed in her ears and the weight of her husband’s gaze lingered on her skin, she felt her act begin to diminish.

For now, all she could do was walk forward towards the mountain of sheets, step by agonizing step, toward a night she wished she could escape. As Geta locked the door, he turned to kiss her. She forced herself to stay still, her lips barely responding to him as his lips pressed against her own. When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered on her, searching for something she wasn’t sure she could give. “You’re mine, little dove,” he murmured, “Don’t forget that.”

Cecilia managed a faint nod, her throat tight as if the words she wanted to say were caught there. “Of course, all yours…your highness,” she whispered, the lie slipping from her lips with practiced ease.

Geta smiled, seemingly satisfied, and moved to the edge of the bed, removing his ornate outer garments. Cecilia stood frozen in place for a moment, her hands trembling at her sides as she urged her body to do something…anything. She felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his high, impractical expectations for her. She moved toward him, her mind racing for ways to endure another night of this charade.

-

Just before the rise of dawn, she met Acacius in the alcove just as they had promised one another the afternoon prior. Acacius had beat her there, and was welcoming as she entered their small hideaway. His broad frame was bathed in the faint glow of the first hints of morning light, his silhouette calm and steady as he leaned against the wall, posed just like the support she needed him to be. When he saw her approach, his face softened, and he straightened. He stepped toward her with a warm smile.

“Cecilia,” he said, his voice low but filled with adoration, “You made it.”

“I couldn’t stay another moment in that room,” she replied, but still managed to smile at his comforting gaze. The tension she had carried all night was still coiled tightly in her chest, but something about Acacius’ presence began to ease it. She started to feel like she could breathe again.

As she stepped fully into their little hideaway, he reached out, his hands brushing her arms in a gesture that was both protective and grounding. “You’re safe here,” he murmured, reminding her gently. “What happened?”

Her throat tightened as she looked up at him. The words threatened to spill out, but she hesitated, unsure of where to begin or how much to say. She did not like speaking about it. She felt she could never truly tell him, as the reminder stirred feelings deep within her that caused terror.  “It’s…it’s nothing new,” she finally managed, “Just more of the same.”

Acacius’ jaw clenched, his hands briefly tightening on her arms before he let out a controlled breath. “You don’t deserve this,” he said, his voice rough with restrained anger. “Any of it.”

Cecilia shook her head, tears pricking at her eyes. “I don’t have a choice, Acacius. Atticus signed me up for this pain, and I must follow through.”

“Atticus wronged you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “But I won’t let you be.”

His words wrapped around her like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her hurt. She let herself lean into him, her forehead resting against his chest. She knew he was right. Atticus had wronged her, and she had needed someone else to tell her that. For a moment, the world outside the alcove faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Acacius wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as though he could shield her from the weight of the world. His touch was firm yet tender, his hands settling on her back with a protective instinct that warred against the fire steadily growing within him. He knew he shouldn’t let himself feel this way about her. She was young, fragile. But she was also forbidden to him, bound to a man unworthy of her. Yet, no matter how fiercely he tried to fight it, his feelings for Cecilia only grew stronger with each stolen moment they shared in the small hideaway. Every glance, every word, every touch chipped away at his resolve, leaving him powerless against the tide of emotions he felt soon he would be no longer able to control.

Acacius closed his eyes, his cheek brushing the top of her head as he tried to bring himself back down to earth. Her presence was intoxicating—a bittersweet ache that made his heart race. He wondered if she could feel his heart rate quicken as he held her. He wanted to fight it, to push her away for both their sakes, but every time she sought him out, every time she looked at him with those pleading, vulnerable eyes, he was a goner.

“Cecilia,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I wish I could take you far away from here. Away from all of this.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. “If only it were that simple,” she whispered.

He reached up, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered, his touch gentle as though she might break under his touch. “One day,” he said quietly, the words more a vow than a hope. “One day, I’ll find a way. You will not live in this reality forever. I promise.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the air. Acacius knew the dangers of this attachment. He knew it could cost them both dearly, but in that moment, with her in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

[blythebewitched]

Her Name Was Bobby: Smiling Critters Oneshot

Two years . . . It was crazy to think he'd lived in this town for two years now. From a young age, Sunny had always been the center of attention everywhere he went. From his band all the way to his modeling career. At some point, the spotlight started to dim for him. So when Kickin brought up moving into town where he could be with his brothers, and try something new, he moved immediately. 

After two long grueling years, he'd finally managed to finish his nursing schooling. It started out as a hobby. Helping the elderly at retirement homes as a volunteer. But now he could really get into Hospice and care for the elderly properly. Sunny loved being around old people. They were sometimes far nicer than anyone his age.

About three weeks prior, Dogday recommended a hospital nearby to apply to. And of course, he was accepted immediately. Today was to be his first day.

Sunny practically swung out of bed. Firey determination pumping his blood. With a killer outfit and some stunning makeup, he was practically ready to go . . . Oh wait . . . Breakfast!

Dogday jumped at the sound of his front door opening. Peering from the kitchen, he saw his brother strut through to the kitchen doorway.

“Mourning Angel~!” Sunny chirped.

“Hiya Sunny. Lemme guess. First day of work and you forgot breakfast?” He passed his brother a plate of food. 

Sunny sat and munch happily as a response. He always forgot something! Dogday chuckled to himself. 

“Say. Speaking of the hospital? Have you met Bobby?”

Bobby. Dogday and Kickin had a gracious number of friends. The only ones he remembered were Catnap and Picky. So, he shook his head. Not really interested in meeting the guy.

“Bobby is the head nurse of the hospital! You should say hi!” 

Sunny took one last bite and headed towards the door. “I'll think about if that's my boss or not.” And he headed out the door and to work.

. . . 

A few hours into the day and Sunny was already sore. He didn't really mind it though. The staff in hospice were really nice and patient. And the elderly were, for the most part, sweeties. As he was bottling pills, he reached for his left shoulder rubbing out some pain that was there. 

Nurse Nip walked up behind him and grabbed his shoulder. “Hard day?”

“Nah. Its just some pent up tension. Thats what hard work'll do.”

“Mm okay. You should probably have the head nurse check that out though.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Well we don't want the new star nurse to keel over after the first day right?”

“Hahaha! True. Well, let me finish up here and I'll see . . . Umm . . . Who again?”

“The head nurse! Bobby Bearhug!”

Bobby. Dogday mentioned that earlier. He was a little annoyed to have to see someone he wasn't keen on meeting, but he kept his promises to his bros. 

Sun suppressed a groan and gave the other nurse a thumbs up before they left. 

. . . 

The head nurses office was on the top floor. Rather than going up the stairs, Sunny decided to take the elevator. The elevator chimed as it reached his floor. The doors opened and he stepped inside. He had planned on a silent ride on his way to see the nurse, but he oddly felt eyes on him.

Sunny curiously looked down next to him through a side eye. There was a girl, another nurse in the elevator with him. Her uniform looked slightly different so he could tell her position was different. The girl was looking up at him. 

Their eyes locked for a moment. Both curious of the other. “You're very pretty.” Was the words that broke their silence.

Sun now fully turned towards her. “What did you say?”

“Haha. Sorry. Was that too blunt? I just think you're very pretty. I've never seen such a colorful bird before.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He was known to be a charmer. A smooth talker. But when it came to flirting or compliments, he flopped hard. His forte was getting people to do what he wanted. So it was safe to say he didn't know what to do when the girl complimented him.

Sun's first thought was to compliment her back. She was substantially shorter than him. Though he was very tall compared to most. The girl was a bear in a deep red coat of fur. Like fine wine. He couldn't say that though. Perhaps something else? Her blush? Her hair? Her smile? . . . No. 

Often when he attempted to establish relationships in the past, he came across as either creepy. A lot of the time, his pride and vanity made him look full of himself. Nobody ever gave him a chance . . . It was the reason he spent so much time alone or with the elderly. 

So, he said nothing. Afraid of making her uncomfortable in such a small space. Suddenly, he felt a hand run through the feathers of his right arm. He had to force himself not to ruffle and fluff up at the touch. His head swung down facing the nurse admiring him.

Both her hands went up the length of his arm. Her eyes looked up at him through her eyebrows. The look was sultry, making Sunny nervous. He couldn't tell if she intended for the interaction to be so personal. 

“You really do have nice feathers. I like the colors. And you're so fluffy!” She gave him the biggest smile. Sweet and elite. “I haven't seen you around before. Are you new?”

“Y-yeah . . . I'm the new hospice nurse . . . Sunshine. But e-everyone calls me Sunny.” 

“SUNNY!?” She stopped and stared at him wide eyed.

The elevator chimed and the door opened to the top floor. Sun was dragged out and led down the hall. 

“By any chance, do you know Dogday? Or Kickin Chicken?” 

“They are my little brothers. Why? You know them?”

The little bear spun around on her heels and gave him a silly smile. Expecting him to guess. “Didn't DD tell you something about meeting someone today?” She chimed. 

It took Sunny a moment, but when it hit him, he felt his face turn red. When DD mentioned his friend Bobby, HE ASSUMED BOBBY WAS A DUDE! Not some cutie . . . In a nurses outfit no less. He cursed his brother internally. The last thing he wanted to do right now was scare her off, but he couldn't help but like her. 

Once outside her office, Bobby asked, “So! Is there anything I can help you with while you're here?”

Sunny almost completely forgot about it. “One of the nurses recommended I see you about some tension in my shoulder.” . . . It was only after saying it that he REALLY thought about it.

“YOU DON'T HAVE TO THOUGH! IT'S NOTHING!” He was praying she would let him go. 

“WHAT!? Get your behind in here now! I'll have that checked out in a jiff.” Bobby grabbed his arm again and dragged him to the couch in her office. Why was it so easy for this lil mini bear to drag him???

. . . 

The next thirty minutes was torturous. They had a really good conversation and Sunny's original doubts had easily been squashed. But he was falling. HARD. And how could he not!? She was perfect. Super polite, great personality, beautiful and well composed. His problem here was that he couldn't say any of it. They'd just met! She'd think he was a sleaze if he said what he really thought of him. 

The worst part was the intimacy of the situation. Sun and Kickin had a habit of having their feathers ruffled at the slightest touch. Bobby's hands were on his shoulder for a good portion of his visit. It made hiding his delight near impossible. When she was done, she prescribed him a minor pain killer and sent him on his way. 

Walking home, the only part of his wonderful first day that stayed on his mind was Bobby. Her name wouldn't leave his head. Her touch had a phantom shadow imprinted on his body. Nothing about those thirty minutes left his head. He didn't even notice Kickin had walked up next to him. 

“SUN!”

“AH! Kickin!”

“Lmfao! What the hell's on your mind?”

The brothers stopped by DD's house where they met up with their brother on his porch. “How was work? You meet Bobby?” 

Bobby. The name stirred excitement he couldn't contain. “YEAH! Why didn't you introduce us sooner!?” Sunny began to ramble uncontrollably. 

DD and Kicks looked at each other slowly. The realization slowly but surely sinking in. Sinister smiles started creeping on their faces. 

Sunny hadn't noticed his brother's on point suspicions. He rambled as he thought of her. The perfect girl from the elevator who was stealing his heart. Sun wondered if this was love at first sight. The thought that he still had so much to learn about her was exhilarating. Bobby. Her name was Bobby. And for the first time in his life, he was truly in love.

[tavshortfortavern]

Celebrating the Winter Holiday with Npcs

Winter approaches and the festive season is upon them. You get a little homesick watching everyone spend the Faerun version of the Holidays and decide to hold your own little festivities. The guys support you celebrating the winter holiday the way you did so back home.

Note: some stuff here includes Christmas tradition since it the only one i'm really familiar with

Zevlor

Cuddling with him near the fireplace. A plate of cookies and two cups of hot cocoa nearby. Your admiring the snow falling outside the window. He's watching the light of the fire light up your appearance, wondering how he got so fortunate to be with you in this moment.

The one who really wants to learn and celebrate your holiday traditions. Helps you anyway he can in setting up any decorations or activities. Loves baking gingerbread cookies and eggnog with you. Sets some aside for the children. Tell him stories of your childhood spending Christmas. He's always fond of hearing about your life back home. Eager to learn the history of your traditions and why certain customs came about. You would be humming some holiday-theme song as you bake. He would quietly listen. Sing some of the lyrics to yourself and he'll ask about them, wanting to hear more songs. Of course you hang a bunch of mistletoe in every doorway. He's curious at first, falling into your trap wanting to ask what their for. Your answer makes him double-take as he realizes where you and him are standing. He chuckles and says you could always ask him for a kiss, but pulls you in for one, honoring the custom. He's really pleased when you keep catching him underneath one, always indulging.

Dammon

He's brought out of his work when you approach him with a cup of hot chocolate. A nice warm drink while the air remains chilly even with the heat from the forge. He takes it with a smile as you scold him for forgetting to wear a scarf outside. The drink was sweet, yet not as sweet as the feeling of you tug the soft fabric around his neck.

Somehow if you have Christmas lights, he's following you around as you hang them up, enamored with them like a kid. Careful, he might mess with the wires trying to figure out how they work. Watches them light up and turn different colors with wide eyes. He's there when you set up a tree and enjoys decorating it. Helps you make the ornaments too. Loves the result, sitting on the floor next to you watching the lights flicker on the tree. If you need a boost, helps you up to hang the star at the top. You had to shoo him out of the kitchen when he kept trying to eat the batter. Likes making gingerbread houses with you. Makes something elaborate probably and actually holds up. Chuckles at you hanging mistletoe everywhere. Really loves this custom and also hangs them everywhere. Careful, its a minefield of kisses now. You might have created a monster.

Rolan

He appreciates the romantic dinner you prepared for him at his tower. Despite all his grumbling about the holidays, its important to him his loved ones enjoy these occasions. There's a soft smile on his face watching snowflakes fall on your face, and an even softer one the next day watching you and his siblings open your presents.

Ah. Classic Scrooge over here. As more festive spirit grows, his grumpiness grows larger. Really, its the cold. He can't stand it and won't go outside without a bunch of layers on. His nose and cheeks probably gets redder, flush from the cold. Appreciates you cupping his face with your hands to warm it up. While he acts all grouchy, will encourage you to enjoy the holidays how you see fit. Just for you, he modifies a dancing lights spell to around the tree, imitating Christmas lights. Standing a bit to the side, watching with no small amount of fondness as you make a snowman with his siblings. You make a bunch of them, some were a little...disfigured. The three of you made a snowman with a large frown and named it Rolan the second. Scoffs when he learns what your doing with the mistletoe. "Nice try. You know I don't always have to indulge you?" He will. Gets more flustered the more you corner him.

[mineralsrocksandfossiltalks]

FOSSIL FRIDAY: STEGOSAURUS

Stegosaurus, the "roof lizard" is by far the best dinosaur and that is a fact not my heavily biased opinion.

It was discovered by Arthur Lakes in Morrison, Colorado

and named by your boy, Marsh.

Originally, poor Marsh believed Stegosaurus to be some sort of turtle-like animal which is where the name originated from.

This is one of the first dinosaurs we learn as kids due to the recognizability of the plates and spikes.

(this comic is far too relatable haha)

Stegosaurus was over 20ft long and weighed several tons.

It had a small skull with small, triangular teeth in the back of its mouth for grinding. There were no teeth in the front of the mouth which was probably covered by a keratinous beak.

Stegosaurus had around 10 cervical (neck), 17 dorsal (back), 4 sacral (hips), and 46 caudal (tail) vertebrae. The dorsal verts were stretched and the caudal neural spines began to bifurcate (split) halfway down the tail.

They have three toes on their back feet and five toes on their front feet.

The most recognizable parts are, of course, the plates and spikes. Both of these are highly specialized osteoderms (bony cored scales) similar to modern crocs.

The largest plates were over the hips and were up to 24 in (60cm) wide and tall. The function of the plates has been hotly debated for a very long time. I even wrote a paper about it in one of my paleo classes in college. There are blood vessels running throughout the plates which make them pretty poor for physical defense. However, they would potentially be ideal for flushing blood into and changing the color just like modern lizards.

This could be used for aggressive behaviors, male to male warnings or to warn predators to back off. The plates could certainly make a Stegosaurus look larger than it really was. Now, that doesn't mean they were completely without protection. A study done in 2010by Christensen and Tschopp found skin impressions on Hesperosaurus plates and determined it probably had a keratin sheath over the plates making them stronger. Another possible use of the plates was thermoregulation. They could have dumped excess heat the way cattle horns or duck bills do today.

Then, there's the thagomizer. The word actually came from a Far SIde comic and paleontologists liked it so much we just sort of...adopted it.

And can you believe there's actually been debate over whether they actually used them?

Robert Bakker believed the tail was flexible enough (despite the argument that the plates would make this impossible) to be a weapon due to a lack of ossified tendons seen in other dinosaurs to stiffen the tail. He also said that the front legs were muscular enough to allow it to deftly swivel it's back half threateningly. McWhinney and others did a study that showed high incidence of trauma-related damage to the tail and spikes implying they were, in fact, used as a weapon. Plus, there is an Allosaurus caudal with a puncture that a Stegosaurus spike would fit into snuggly.

There are two, possibly three species of Stegosaurus: S. ungulatus, S. stenops, and S. sulcatus. The first is probably just a synonym of S. stenops and S. sulcatus is likely an entirely different genus. Only time and more data will tell.

S. sulcatus...which looks nothing like the others.

My absolute favorite thing about Stegosaurus is...well, there two things. First, one specimen was found with throat armor which is just freaking cool.

Second, baby stegos are called steglings. Freaking STEGLINGS. How damn cute is that?

We have found a Stegosaurus tooth at the Evil Tree Bonebed and I really hope we find the animal. A baby would let me die happy. Want to help me find a Stegosaurus? Come join us this summer at CNCC for our summer field program. Check out the link below.

[too-many-tildes]

Too Many Tildes' Amazing Isekai Adventure, Chapter 1

(I'm going to regret this.)

My name is Too Many Tildes. I have dark, navy blue plating with white eyes and light blue tildes underneath them (hence my name~) My gamer headset is shaped like cat ears and I wear a fluffy pink feather boa with a very fashionable cyan tank top and night-sky themed pants. My nail extensions are painted red just like my :3 face and my feet are shaped like high heels. This is the start of my story.

It was a cycle like any other. I was admiring my collection of Catboy Pebbles images (A.N. if u dont know who that is get da rubicon outta here!!!!) Suddenly my homosexual overseer alerted me to something funny happening outside. I looked through the feed and saw... A METEOR!!!?????? And it was SHAPED LIKE A TRAIN?!?!??!!? And it was headed STRAIT FOR MY CAN!!!!!1!1!1!111!!1!11! I gasped right before the train struck me, exploding me into one billion pieces!!!11!! The world was going dark around me as my chamber shattered and I fell down. The last thing I remember seeing was flames surrounding my structure and the bright, beautiful sky.

~ ~ ~

"Hey! Listen!"

I groaned and opened my eyes. Omg!!!! I'm alive?!!?!?? I glanced next to me and saw... my overseer????

"Get up, catboi," it said, turning all different colors of the rainbow. I decided to just lay there instead until its feelers tickled my face.

"Hey~ Stop that~" I said, shooing the overseer away with my hand, but it just teleported to the other side of me.

"You can't sleep on the dirt in the middle of the forest," it said firmly. Forest? I sat up and looked around. Sure enough, I was surrounded by trees!!! But I also noticed... MY CLOTHES WERE GONE!!!!!1!!!!1111! I wasnt naked tho, just wearing horrible peasant clothes. BUT I DIDN'T HAVE P[ATNS!! All I had on wad a plain white cloak. 

"Where da rubicon am I, oveseer~?" I asked. The overseer rolled its eye at me.

"Rude. I'm Ounce the Overseer. We're in the Iakesi forest," it explained. Iakesi forest? Id literally never heard of such a place. Though the name kinda sounded familiar...

My thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of the bishes. I stood up quicjkly, which was weird considering Id never stood on my legs before. It came so naturally to me for some reason. Three orange lizards emerged from the bushes, grinning at me. I hadnt realized until now how big they actually were.

"Oh shit, yellow lizards!" Ounce shouted and darted onto my shoulder. I thought they were ornage but whetever. They were wiggling their antennae s they approached me, and openned their mouths. Lizards weren't supposed to be this active, were they?

"Tildes you have to run the other way NOW!!!!!" Ounce yelled in my ear. I didn't know what tghe lizards would do to me but I wasn't going to stick around to find out. I turned tail and ran in the other direction. The leaves crunched underfoot and the trees blurred past me as I ran.

"This is just like that hit game PSMD!" Ounce said as I sprinted. I didn't know what the heck it was talkin about.

Suddenly I tripped and went tumbling down a slope I didn't even see. The foliage scraped against me as I flailed around. Then I collided with something metal with a loud BONK followed by an "oof!"

I locked up from my faceplant and saw purple?!??

"Ouch..." said the purple. I scrambled away and saw the purple was ANOTHER ITERATOR!!1!!!!111! I must have crashed into him and knocked him to the ground.

"Omigosh~! I'm sorry~!!! R u ok~???" I said quickly. The other iterator sat up and looked at me. He had funny asymetrical antennae and soft pastel eyes so beautiful I could get lost in them~

"I'm alright, I think..." He brushed some leaves off his rumpled dress. It was a really cute dress, tan with red rose patterning all over it and frills at the end of the sleeves. He was wearing an apron over it, with a cute little bow tied at the back.

"Stop staring," Ounce hissed in my ear. But where else would I look?

"What about you?" He asked. "You crashed right into me. Are you alright?" His voice sounded so soft and concerned.

"Um~! Ya~!! Just fell off a cliff running away from lizards haha~" I stuttered. The iterator gasped.

"Oh! Are you sure you aren't injured or anything?" He stood up and helped me stand as well. I blushed when he took my hand.

"I'm fine~ Just as fine as you~" I said smoothly, winking. One of Ounce's feelers slapped its eyeball. He seemed to freeze for a moment, eyes wide as he stared at me. No doubt flustered by my charming pick-up line.

"O-kay..." he said slowly, letting go of my hand quickly. He bent down and I noticed a woven basket tipped over on the ground. He must have dropped it when I crashed into him. Scattered all around it are... SHROOMS????? Omgosh, had I just bumped into a DRUG DEALER?!?1/!?!?

"Why do u have shrooms~!?" I blurted out. He flinched at my words, but looked up at me with confusion.

"W-what? Oh, I was gathering wild mushrooms. They grow around this time of year," he said, gingerly picking one up and placing it in the basket.

"They aren't drugs, Tildes, they're just mushrooms," Ounce whisper-yelled in my ear. I batted it away from my shoulder because it was being seriously annoying rn.

"Oh no~! I'm sorry I caused u to spill them~ Do u need help~?" I crouched down to help pick up the mushrooms but he quickly shook his head.

"No no, it's fine! It's okay!" He said. "It was an accident. I can get these by myself." Okay, well now I'm left feeling kinda awkward. I tried to think of something to break the tension as he placed the last of the mushrooms back in his basket.

"Hey~ I never got ur name~ I'm Too Many Tildes~" I said. He looked at me a little funny, but I couldn't figure out what he was feeling.

"I'm Nothing Well-Made," he said. "It's... nice to meet you... Too Many Tildes."

"U can just call me Tildes~" I responded.

"And I'm Ounce." the rainbow overseer appeared between us. Nothing startled backwards.

"Gah! A talking overseer?" he exclaimed.

"Uh~ ya~ dont ur overseers ever talk to u~?"

"No!"

"Please calm down," Ounce said gently. Nothing took a moment to compose himself, but he still looked totally freaked out by my talking overseer. "Nothing Well-Made, would you be willing to let Tildes spend the night at your shelter? She's lost, and has nowhere to go."

"Um..." Nothing glanced at me nervously. I was also reminded that UH HOW DID I GET HERE??!?!??? I THOUGHT I DIED TO A METEOR!!!!!!!!1!

"S-sure," he said, distracting me from my thoughts. Nothing beckoned for me to follow. "My cottage is this way."

The forest around us grew darker as we walked, probably from a combination of the oncoming rain clouds and night falling. Ounce stayed perched on my shoulder as Nothing led me through uneven terrain. He glanced behind every so often to make sure I was following. I liked that.

We finally came to a small copse in the woods. In it stood an run-down cottage shelter. It looked dirty, and it was covered in ivy and moss. A small, fenced-in garden was planted next to it, but I couldn't see anything planted in it at the moment. The cottage must have been very old to be in such a haphazard shape. Or maybe, it simply wasn't well-made. (A.N. see what I did there~? :3)

"You live here?" Ounce asked, zipping down next to Nothing. "How does this thing withstand the rain?"

"We put a magic seal on it that prevents the rain from damaging it," Nothing explained. "My boyfriend did most of the work though. He knows more about magic than I do."

I felt my heart sink down into the void sea. Nothing was already taken? Of course he is~ I thought. A cute boykisser like him would have trouble staying single~

Completely oblivious to my heartbreak, Nothing opened the cottage door wide and gestured for me to step inside. I entered with a lot less enthusiasm than I started with when I first met him. The inside of the shelter was small, but cozy. Everything was bathed in warm colors, and potted plants seemed to decorate every surface. A small love seat was positioned in front of an inactive fireplace, and the kitchen was so small that it would struggle to fit two people inside. I didn't see a bedroom anywhere, so I could only assume it was upstairs, seeing as there was a small staircase leading to a second story.

"Woah~ Ur place is so cute~" I said as Nothing followed inside and closed the door.

"Thank you," he responded nervously. "F-feel free to make yourself at home on the sofa. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"You got any water~?" I asked. I was getting pretty thirsty by that point.

"Of course! Ice or no ice?"

"No ice pls~"

Nothing walked into the kitchen to prepare the water as I went to have a seat on the sofa. It was a nice, soft sofa. I wondered how often Nothing and his boyfriend got to cuddle in front of a roaring fire. Must be nice~ I thought.

As I sat, I could hear Nothing and Ounce talking quietly in the kitchen. I couldn't make out anything they were saying though. I wondered if Ounce knew how strange it was for me to suddenly appear here, off my string. Nothing was also off the string, assuming he had one. Odd.

Nothing walked into the living room with two glasses of water and handed one to me. "It's filtered water," he said. He unplugged something from behind his head - some kind of long tube - and put the end of it in his glass. I suddenly realize I had no clue how to drink water.

"It's a water intake tube. You have one too," Ounce whispered to me. I put my hand behind my head and felt around until I brushed over something thicker than a wire. I pulled at it, and the end of the tube came loose. I put it in my glass of water and automatically started drinking, cooling me off.

"So~ Where's ur boyfriend, Nothing~?" I ask innocently. Nothing stiffens, and Ounce glares at me.

"Um," he stutters. "Well, he's not been home for a while. He's-"

Nothing is cut off by a knock on the door!!! OMG IS IT HIS BOYFRIEND!?!?!??!??! Find out next chapter!!1!!111!!1!1!

---

Nothing Well-Made belongs to @meatcatt

[niigata-division]

It was late into the day where a couple of gifts came in the mail for one Ayumu Hayami of Niigata, said birthday man was currently relaxing on the couch with his beloved daughter, Sara, as they watched a family friendly movie when the doorbell rang. Curious to see what or who it could be, though he was certain it was more gifts delivered to him from people all over the divisions, he stood up and walked over to the door, opening it, he was not surprised to have been right as there were three presents sitting pretty on the porch of his home.

Picking up all of the gifts, he shut the door as he made his way back to the living room where Sara was waiting, perking up eagerly when she caught sight of the presents in her father’s arms. Chuckling at her excitement, Ayumu sat the gifts down and paused the movie, together, the father and daughter duo proceeded to go through each present, starting with the blue one, which revealed to be…

…A top of the line smart watch, complete with every function there needs to be, it came with a small note.

‘Happy Birthday, Ayumu-san.

Thank you for all your hard work and enjoy your day.

— Wataru S.’

The second gift, the purple one, revealed to be…

…A porcelain coffee mug with a paramedic joke printed onto it, like the last gift, this one came with a card.

‘Happy Birthday, Sunshine Papi!

You’re a real rad guy, y’know that? Not to mention you really helped me more times than I can count (don’t ask me if getting stabbed is worse than getting shot, they both hurt as shit) so take this sacred mug as a token of my appreciation! I hope this managed to get a laugh out of you!

— Jo(ey)Jo Kurus(u)iwa’

The third and final gift, a soft red colored one, revealed to be…

…A plate of delicious flower looking cupcakes wrapped in a protective plastic container, much like the other two gifts, this one also came with a card.

‘Happy Birthday, Hayami-san!

I bet it’s surprising for you to receive a gift from me but Shisuta told me that it was your birthday today and believe it or not, you and I have worked together on a couple of cases, we just so happened to be in different areas haha! I hope you have a very wonderful day and I wish you all the good vibes!

— Sayaka Miyuki.’

Happy Birthday Ayumu! 💛

“Seems like you’re popular today, Ayumu,” Seiji told his friend, having come over to visit after his shift. Eyeing the gifts Ayumu received today. “But you’ve always been the nicer one out of the two of us. So, no surprise there.”

“Oh, hush you” Ayumu snorted, elbowing Seiji in his side. “Just wait till your birthday, then we’ll talk.”

“Don’t remind me,” Seiji groaned. “It's going to be a circus this year with our entry into the D.R.B.”

Ayumu laughed at the face Seiji was making. “Come on, Seiji, not excited?”

“I like to spend my birthdays in peace.”

“Where’s your sense of fun?”

“Not here that’s for sure.”

“Friends for how long and this is how you treat me?”

“It's because of how long we’ve been friends that I treat you like this, you bastard.”

“Wow rude.”

“Just eat a cupcake and cry about it, Ayumu.”

[nohoney]

sweetness I hope you’ve had a wonderful week mwah mwah! I was thinking about that one drabble that you wrote of us!dabi and us!keigo continuously cheating on us!yn and I was wondering if we could please get a bit of an angst drabble (I have departed from the smut/fluff train and I am now boarding the angst one)

hi darling! i hope you’ve been well and taking care of yourself! i’ve pretty much wrapped up that little cheating drabble timeline but i definitely will not deny you us series angst (´ ω `♡)

warnings: angsty-ish, touya carries reader briefly, like a sort of make up but also not?

Right now, all three of you are in a department store looking at dinnerware.

“Does it really matter what kind I get? We just need something to eat on." Touya sighs as his eyes gloss over the different styles, sizes, and shapes of plates that are presented on a shelf. Getting something new didn't necessitate that he needed to get anything fancy or flashy. All plates are there for the same purpose; to just put food on it and then eat off of.

Keigo looks over a set of five blue plates and compares it to a set of six that are in the color black. "You know that we're replacing more than just things to eat off of. What about the bowls and the cups too?" he points out.

"God, who cares?" Touya huffs out and he gestures vaguely to the entire shelf, "Let's just buy whatever we need to replace and get going. I do not care what they look like. It's not like it will be expensive for me anyway."

You stand off to the side and keep to yourself. The boys just talk only to each other while you are simply just there with them. They are not exactly ignoring you but you're not apart of the conversation either. In fact they wouldn't be here talking of dinner plates and fruit bowls if it weren't for you.

They wouldn't be here if it weren't for the tantrum you threw yesterday.

It's embarrassing when your anger gets the best of you and you become destructive. You can't even remember what had made you upset again just like many other fights before. Just another meaningless argument with your blue eyed boyfriend where he said that you were being dramatic again. He had angrily cursed and decided to step out.

When he had returned probably no more than ten minutes later, he came back to you having emptied out the cupboard of all the dinnerware. Broken ceramic pieces were shattered on the floor. Barely anything survived your rampage.

You stood on the opposite side of the kitchen, the only clear space with no broken pieces and chips of ceramic was only where you stood. With all the little sharp bits and pieces lay before you, the only option to be able to get out would have been to crawl up onto the countertop.

Touya had pulled on his boots only to be able to step over all the broken ceramic to retrieve you, putting you over his shoulder and carrying you off to the bedroom where you were essentially put on timeout.

While you cried into a pillow, he swept up everything into a trash bag and cleaned up after the mess you made. Even in your attempt to apologize, Touya didn't want to hear you speak and he went to bed with his back to you.

So now here you are, simply watching as Keigo tries to put thought into selecting dinnerware and Touya not wanting to put in any whatsoever. Your eyes drift over to the opposite end of shelves where where there are sets of mugs as well as individual ones as well. A white mug with pink clouds painted on it catches your attention. There's other designs and sizes with flowers or cats or some cheesy quote in funky lettering that are there for sale too.

"Stoneware would be good, yeah?" Keigo's voice break away your attention and you look back to see him holding a set in his arms. "It even comes with the bowls and mugs. Isn't that great?"

Touya doesn't have a comment and you just mumble a quiet 'yeah'.

The three of you move out the aisle to head to the checkout. You remain silent waiting in the long line and looking again at the rows set up along the checkout line for any last minute purchases. Again you happen upon the same mug that you saw in the aisle and your gaze lingers on it.

Before you can even react, Touya's reaching for the exact mug you're staring at it and holds it in his hand. "Quit staring at it like that, I'm gonna buy it." he states without looking at you and just keeps his gaze forward. You try to tell him it's fine and that you didn't really want it but Keigo's foot nudges against yours.

You stay silent and guess that maybe this might be Touya's way of also trying to move on from your tantrum.

The white mug with pink clouds sits on the countertop as you unbox the dinnerware set. It's heavier than you'd expected it to be and Keigo had chosen a pleasing color palette. Four plates, four bowls, and four mugs to replace the set he had before in the cupboard. You push aside the box so that it's out of your way, unknowing that it actually pushes and tips the white mug over the edge of the countertop. From the corner of your eye, you barely catch a glance as it falls and don't react quick enough to even attempt to catch it.

It smashes into little shards and big bits.

"Baby? You okay?" Keigo looked up from the book he was reading and comes to your side. He gives you a consoling little 'oh' when he looks at the mess by your feet. "It's okay, I'll clean it up."

You're sitting on the kitchen countertop as Touya emerges from the shower with a towel around his neck. He's drying his hair and he asks if he actually heard something break or if he was just imagining it. Keigo sweeps the broken mug into a dustpan and makes sure to sweep the broom in the little corners that stray pieces may have fallen to. It's disappointing that he had gone out of his way to buy it for you only for it to break the same day.

Touya offers no words though, just waiting patiently until Keigo finishes cleaning the mess and the dustpan is emptied into the garbage.

"'M sorry Touya." you tell him as he helps you off the countertop. He only offers the small gesture of rubbing your back and doesn't say anything.

It feels a little cruel almost that the gift he had given you to try to move on ended up being broken by your own actions. So you have to figure that this is karma for what you had done. You walk out of the kitchen only to step on something sharp. "Ow!"

"Aw man, must have missed one! C'mere dove, let me see and make sure it's not too bad."

Now it felt like a punishment.

[theacedragon0w0]

Food for Thought

Sage having some reflection in cannibal town plus some Willow×Iris for the soul

Willow and Hazel belongs to the fabulous @puffymucher

Rosalina cameo for @mirconreadzztuff22

And Iris ofc belongs to the pookie @helluvadyke

Sage was excited to hang out with Iris and Willow today, there was a new bakery that recently opened up and Sage volunteered to scope it out for her wives, Hazel begged Velvette to let her go with Sage but Velvette reminded her that she will absolutely buy the store clean. Rosalina was away on a business trip with Ozzie so Sage asked Iris if they can meet up, with the deal that if there is any trouble that Sage will contact Velvette asap.

Sage spotted Iris at the front entrance and called the bloodhound for her attention, both bouncing as they hugged each other.

"Sagey it has been way too long!"

"We were literally escorting our bosses for a meeting last week," Sage chuckled.

"That doesn't count! That was strictly business, we definitely need to hang out that doesn't involve us standing behind our bosses."

"Like that ever is a complaint," Sage teased, looking behind Iris to see another hellhound that stood silent. The Doberman guard nodded along to the conversation, smiling whenever Iris looked over her shoulder to exchange glances.

Willow reminded Sage of Hazel, she was intimidating at first but seeing how she acted around Iris reassured Sage of the new addition to Rosie's security. The soft touches the two would exchange, not to mention that Sage saw the two split one of Sage's packed snacks which sealed Sage's approval. Honestly, Sage thought, those two were one of the cutest couples in hell.

The three entered the bakery, what caught Sage's eye was the large display case of the numerous types of pastries and cakes. Sage's gaze stopped at the sample plate, it holding carefully decorated hors d'oeuvres, with each one having a finger sticking out.

Iris waved her hand in front of Sage, "Hey SageCake, you alright?" With both already been trying out the free snacks on the plate.

"How do fingers taste?"

Iris was taken aback from the quick question, "well it depends on the demon who's finger is being eaten, the most common flavor is pork, the second one being chicken-"

Willow nudged Iris on her side, cutting off Iris' rant, pointing to Sage's prosthetic, "We can go to a different bakery if seeing these samples is bugging you."

Iris' face lost some of it's color as she realized the full weight of that statement, "Fuck me i forgot your whole hand thing, Willy's right we can go somewhere else with better tastes,"

Sage lifted her right hand, stopping the bloodhounds sentence, Sage looked at their prosthetic, the robotic fingers bending and flexing at her will, "To be honest, I am not bothered by it, maybe a little less than I should."

Sage then remembered all the events that came after that night, how they sought sanctuary at the hotel, getting their first prosthetic by Sir Pentious, being recruited by Velvette, nearly dying by holy arms, the physical therapy that their partner's helped them through, the rough nights that ended in a warm embrace.

They also remembered the look on the squads face when they gave her back her denim jacket, the one they were currently wearing.

Sage took a deep sigh, "Look, that chapter in my life is far behind me, and even if we found out where they sold my hand, it's pretty much a waste of time. Honestly the only thing that I think about it is how I would taste,"

"Oh I could help with that~" Iris smirked, wiggling her eyebrows that caused a snorting fit from Sage.

"I don't doubt that, now let me order some of these cakes for Hazel, and save me a sample too! I can see you guys nearly cleaning off the plate!"

The sillies ever your honor