#dr command route

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; chapter 5

Commander Snow

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

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

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am!’’

 Maybe some good could come out of your predicament. 

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

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

“Shut up.” The Peacekeeper ordered. 

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

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

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

Five minutes pass in silence. 

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

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

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

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

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

He moves quickly as they integrate back into the crowd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were busy,” you tried. 

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

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

A whooping sound is heard from outside the ally. 

He pulls his head back in its direction. 

“What did they find?” you ask. 

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

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

“Go straight home.” 

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

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

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

—------

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

The Peacekeeper politely knocked at your door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It would be appreciated, Miss.” 

He waits by the door as you do as promised. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am Y/N,” you offer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, you try learning more about Coriolanus. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coriolanus seemed pleased with the attention and continued. 

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

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

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

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

“I’ll tell you another time.” 

You scoff at him, “Another secret.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I the next Lucy Gray?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We?” You felt your heart stop. 

He turns his head to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about my mother?’’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?” Coriolanus answers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

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

“And if he finds us?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would you be right back then?”

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

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

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

You brush your hands down the breast of his coat. 

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

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

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

You had been through so much worse just weeks prior. 

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

He smiles once more showcasing his slightly crooked front tooth. 

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

“Through-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he offers. 

“Goodnight, Edmund.” 

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

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

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

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

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

But at least you knew he meant it. 

Edmund's kiss was almost unsure. 

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

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

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

A soft knock at the door interrupted your sprailing. 

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

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

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

“Miss Escot.” You state. 

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

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

“You were wrong.” 

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

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

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

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

“Get two glasses.”

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

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

“You don’t plan to go do you?”

“Of course not.” 

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know.” 

Your boss laughs, throwing her head back. 

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

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

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

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

“So you gonna kill him?” She asks.

“Why do you care what I plan to do.” 

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

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

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

“I would rather die then-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just leaving,” he orders. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir. I am sorry, sir”. 

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

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

He comes back over to you.

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

“I have to check on my mother.”

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

“No, sir.”

“Back to sir now?”

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

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

“Don’t,” he warns. 

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

“You shouldn’t have left today.”

You nod your head, unsure of what to say. 

“Say you’re sorry,” he demands. 

‘‘I am sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Watch me up there,” he instructs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a lovely day for a hanging.”

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

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

“You’re not alone, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He wants me to stay” you explain. 

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

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

“I’ll wait for you,” he promises. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He holds you close for his own comfort. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay,” he begs

You shake your head. 

“Please, just for tonight.” 

“I have to get home to my mother.”

“Tomorrow will you stay?”

“No. I can’t.” 

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

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

“She should get used to your absence.”

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

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

You turn to leave but he yanks you back.

“No, no. I need you to stay.” 

“Get off of me,” you demand.

“You’re not leaving me.” 

You repeat your demand and shove him harshly off you.

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

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

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

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

“Stop acting like this, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not much,” he comments. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles and kisses your cheek before leaving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins at you as he chews. 

It makes you feel self-conscious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

The beeping of an alarm clock woke your restful sleeping. 

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

“What time is it?” you ask. 

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

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

“Go back to sleep”. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You eat quickly while Coriolanus takes his time to chew. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “That’s fine,” he finally said. 

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

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

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

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

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

He lifts your chin and kisses you before leaving. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t catch your breath through your tears. 

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

You bash him in his chest for his dumb question. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait here. I’ll go get the keys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where have you been!” he demanded. 

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

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

“She’s been with me. Who are you?”

“He’s the maintenance man.” You lie. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All day? What a loyal friend”.

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

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

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

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

Coriolanus keeps a still face as he withdraws his hand. 

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

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

“I know what you mean,” Coriolanus agrees. 

Talk of hanging makes you nervous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then you should have no trouble using it”. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She seems to be standing just fine now.”

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

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

“I was so worried,” she huffed. 

“I am sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to kill Edmund if he continued. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coriolanus gets in and begins driving without a word. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

The nightmare returns again that night. 

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

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

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

He stalks through the vegetation.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth #dead dove do not eat #commander snow

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* Breathe (Yandere!Monster x AFAB!Reader)

CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, bed bug inspired monster, minor character death, Non-Con, traumatic insemination, blood, physical torture, mental torture, impregnation, necrophilia

(Reader) breathed deeply, bouncing side to side in the back of the armored vehicle. The men and women by their side held equally grim expressions, not knowing what they were about to face. Three days ago an outpost went radio silent, the group of military scientists sent out an SOS before cutting communications. (Reader) had no idea what the scientists were studying, nor why they needed military protection in the middle of nowhere, but it wasn't their place to know. That's what they continuously told themselves as they practiced their deep breathing, secretly unnerved by how little their team was informed about this mission, and by how uneasy their teammates were.

The van rattled as it parked, and everyone exited the vehicle, guns pointed and night vision on, patrolling their designated routes throughout the empty land. (Reader) was followed by Davis and Jones, surveying the backside of one of the buildings, and praying for someone to be found alive. It was a bit dramatic, assuming that everyone was dead, but with how everyone seemed to keep this mission "hush hush", keeping important info from the men and women entering the "possibly dangerous" area, with the goal of "information retrieval" being considered a higher priority over extraction of survivors, it didn't sound like even their superiors were hopeful.

Everything was suspicious, and made everyone on edge. That worry became a very real fear when (Reader) entered the building through the back door and found the floor painted in blood. A body was mere inches from the exit, and the back of his head was torn open, exposing a cracked skull.

"Jesus Christ.." Davis covered his mouth.

(Reader) bent down, turning the body over to observe the face, comparing it to the portfolios of the personal working at the outpost they had memorized on the drive. They clicked on their walkie, speaking low. "This is (Reader), we've discovered a body, appears to be Dr. Romero."

Rodriguez's voice crackled quietly in their ears. "Copy that, this is Rodriguez, I've got two more bodies over here."

"What the hell happened to him?" Jones whispered.

(Reader) couldn't answer. There were scratches on the skull, and the skin was red and puffy surrounding it. The face was purple from the pooling blood. It didn't look like a gun shot, but (Reader) couldn't imagine what it could have been otherwise. "Let's continue on." The three left the body behind, creeping down a hall in procession.

"Movement." Behind (Reader), Davis urgently hissed, motioning towards what looked like a rec room. The formation changed, following Davis as he entered the room, focused on a couch. As they drew closer, a quiet gurgling could be heard, along with something wet dripping onto the tile flooring.

What looked like a man, naked and hunched over, was cradling a corpse, rocking back and forth. In the odd lighting of the goggles, they couldn't tell that there was something wrong with him until it was too late.

"Turn around, and put your hands up." Davis commanded, frightened and ready to shoot. The head of the corpse lulled back, revealing it's neck was completely devoured. In the second it took to blink, the creature had lunged at Davis, tackling him to the ground. (Reader) and Jones opened fire, but the bullets seemed to bounce off his back in the dark. Seeing a slight difference in texture between his back and neck, (Reader) took a chance, aiming at his neck.

The creature screamed, holding his neck and jumping to his feet, taking a moment to reveal his almost human face to (Reader), before crawling up the wall, and through a trap door in the ceiling.

"Davis!" Jones picked up his brother, patting his armor.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Davis panicked, grasping at Jones to ground himself. "I think he was trying to bite me, but- but couldn't get past my mask."

(Reader) got on the radio again. "This is (Reader), we've just been attacked. No injuries, but.. but I can't explain what just attacked us. It looked like a naked man, but it crawled up the ceiling like a bug."

"Not funny, (Reader)."

"That wasn't a joke, Rodriguez. I unloaded a clip into it, and it didn't die. It went into the attic, do I follow?"

"We're on our way, wait for backup."

Davis looked horrified. "I don't want to go up there!"

"C'mon, man-"

"No, Jones. You didn't see that thing's mouth!"

Everyone went silent as something scraped against the floor boards above them, clenching their weapons in suspense.

The front door was kicked in, Rodriguez and her crew entered the rec room, lowering their guns. "Alright, what happened here?"

"Something Humanoid was in the center of the room, eating.. whoever the hell that once was. Davis told him to put up his hands, when it knocked him to the ground, trying to bite him. Jones and I shot his back, but it didn't seem to affect him. I hit it's neck, but that only got him off of Davis, then he climbed up the wall and went through that door." (Reader) pointed at the attic door.

Rodriguez narrowed her eyes in disbelief, glaring up at the ceiling. "Let's find another way up. If there's nothing up there, we'll go back to the van, check your body cams."

Davis raised his voice defensively. "You think we're lying about this?"

"I think, it fucking reeks in here. It doesn't smell like a gas leak, but I don't believe in monsters. I'm not ruling out a hallucinogen of some kind. (Reader)-" She then nodded to (Reader), signaling to get a move on.

They searched the rooms before finding a ladder, and no other doors leading up. (Reader) sighed. "Good enough."

Davis held the ladder as (Reader) climbed up, followed by Rodriguez, then another soldier, Alistair. Inside the attic the smell was worse, like rotten fruit. It was so bad that Alistair gagged a little, trying not to throw up. "Fuck me, what is that?"

(Reader) flinched, seeing something curled up in the fetal position. "Rodriguez."

The three approached the figure carefully, the smell worsening as they approached, then, (Reader) was close enough to see that the creature wasn't breathing. They kicked it, putting a hole straight through it's stomach.

"Oh God!" Rodriguez recoiled.

However, (Reader) almost threw up, not because of the stench, but from the overwhelming fear that suddenly pulverized their spirit. "It's a shell."

"What?"

Rodriguez bent down, gingerly pulling (Reader's) foot out and examining the body, finding it to be a combination of hard shell and molted skin. "I can see why you couldn't kill it. It's back is like a bug's exoskeleton. Looks like the front is a more... human.. texture."

"But doesn't that mean it's still here somewhere?" Alistair nervously asked, glancing around in the dark.

"We need to get back to the van, call this in to our superiors." Rodriguez commanded before picking up the walkie, calling out the the other three person team. "Jackson, return to the van."

Silence.

"Jackson, you there? I said get to the van."

A barrage of shots fired from outside, echoing through the encampment. Everyone raised their weapons and fell into formation, rushing outside quietly while scoping the area. A scream from one of the newer lieutenants pierced the silent air, before choking loudly, and then returning the outpost to silence once more.

The team splintered apart, separating back into their three man groups, covering more ground in hopes of finding the last three members of their team. (Reader) smelled that fruity stench again, and motioned to their men to follow them in the smell's direction. They entered a tent covering what looked like an excavation site, a deep hole roped off with caution tape. A uniformed body laid headless in the dirt next to the entrance. In the bright green view of (Reader's) goggles, they could read Jackson's name on the vest.

Further down the large tent, a disgusting squelching noise was rhythmically slapping, along with animalistic grunts. (Reader) stepped as soundlessly as possible, stepping over torn clothing; a military vest with Adams' name, her jacket, her tank top, and even her bra, torn to shreds and strewn about, leading to the noise.

Behind a metal desk, seconds clicked by like minutes, the adrenaline forcing (Reader) to take in every detail of the horrific scene. The monster, now much larger than it was before, had Adams' corpse in it's arms, her nude upper body violently shaking as it ground it's pelvis into her abdomen, splattering blood around them. As the scene came together, (Reader) began firing, aiming at the side of his head, hoping to hit a soft spot.

The creature angrily stood up, Adams' body sliding off of what appeared to be a curved spike protruding from it's groin. It screamed, rushing (Reader) and ramming into them, knocking them off balance which sent them tumbling down into the hole.

(Reader) heard their team cry out for them, and gunfire, but they kept falling, bouncing off the walls of the hole before landing hard at the bottom, snapping their arm at the bottom.

The shouts of terror didn't last long above ground, ending with sounds of bones cracking and bodies falling. (Reader) struggled onto their feet, feeling discomfort in their rapidly swelling ankles. There didn't seem to be any rope or ladders to get back out, and they didn't know if it was safe to call for help on the radio.

Spinning around, something moved in the dark, scaring (Reader) onto their ass and fumbling for their gun. In the dark, another naked monster, smaller than the previous one, crawled over on all fours towards (Reader), chest heaving like he was sniffing the air. He approached (Reader) who still couldn't find their gun, and cautiously tapped on their goggles, searching their masked face with deep, sunken eyes. His mouth was split open, showing off his jagged, saw like teeth. This monster was about the size of the first one before it molted.

It continued open mouth sniffing (Reader's) head, almost making them vomit by it's rotting body odor, when suddenly it flinched, whipping his head up to see the bigger creature climbing down head first into the pit. The younger looking monster grabbed (Reader's) face tightly, pressing his hands against their mouth and squeezing, forcing them to hold their breath.

Sweat felt like lice as out dripped down the fine hairs on (Reader's) neck. They hadn't prepared to be holding in their air, so they were already beginning to feel light headed. The larger monster paused halfway down, sniffing hard into their air before screeching at the smaller creature. He howled in response, still keeping his hands in place on (Reader's) face. (Reader) understood that the two were communicating, and that it seemed like the smaller monster was on their side, because soon the killer turned around and retreated back up, more than likely to kill more of (Readers) brothers and last remaining sister.

After a painful amount of time, he removed his hands, and (Reader) wasted no time grabbing their walkie. "Hello? Does anyone read me?" They whispered frantically.

"(Reader), we found more bodies-"

"Jackson and Adams are dead, possibly Davis and Jones as well."

"Jesus.."

"We found the monster in a large tent covering what looks to be a dig site. I was thrown into a hole, broke my left arm, lost my gun, and possibly sprained both ankles." (Reader) swallowed their rising bile, watching the monster mimic their movements. "Don't breathe. If you hear rustling, don't breathe. The monsters can see, but I think they find their victims through their breath or something."

"What? Wait, did you just say monsters?"

"There's a smaller one here in the hole with me. I think he saved my life. The one from the attic is much bigger now, this other one is still small. He made me hold my breath and it made the bigger one leave me alone."

"Jesus, alright. That sounds crazy. But.. look, just stay there, we'll be there soon. Can you see a way out?"

"No. No ropes or ladders down here."

"'Kay. Stay quiet, call back if that thing down there tries to attack you. Even if we can't get you out, I can at least throw you down a weapon."

"Thanks. Stay safe up there."

(Reader) leaned back, the pain settling in as the fight or fight response cooled down. They groaned in pain. The monster hopped up, crawling back over to inspect (Reader).

"Curious little monkey, aren't ya?" (Reader) panted, becoming nervous at how he sniffed the air excitedly as they did so. He crept back over, becoming far too close again, and starting touching their mask and goggles, confused. Long sharp claws reached under the mask and pulled it down, startling himself. He retreated to the other side of the pit while whimpering.

"Hey, that was just my mask." (Reader) tried to console him. They didn't know if it was because he saved them, or if because he acted like a scared child, but they weren't nearly as scared of him as they were the other one. Seeing that it was just a piece of fabric, and not (Reader's) face accidentally being ripped off, he shuffled back over, rubbing his dirty fingers across their lips.

He tapped his nails across their teeth, pulling open their lips carefully, feeling their jaw and chin, running his hands over every little bump and scrape. Learning that the bottom half of (Reader's) face had been covered by a mask emboldened him to tug on the goggles, coaxing (Reader) into removing them, leaving them completely blind in the dark. His breath tickled their face as he shuddered, purring deep in the back of his throat as he placed his nose on (Reader's) forehead, pressing into them in an almost cat-like manner, smelling them and rubbing his oily skin over (Reader's) entire face.

Uncomfortable by their lack of vision, (Reader) replaced their goggles, much to the monster's dismay. "I need these. Protection." They put back on the mask as well, ignoring his whines of disapproval.

Dirt fell onto (Reader) as Rodriguez stepped near the opening. "You still alive?" She stage whispered down into the chasm.

"Yeah. Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah. I think with the footage we got, and the documents, they'll understand if we don't take any bodies back with us." Her words were harsh, but (Reader) knew she was just as distraught as they were. "Your gun's up here, want me to throw it down?"

"No. I'm guessing you didn't find a ladder?"

"No."

"Then I'll try to climb out."

"Didn't you say your arm was broken?"

"Unless you killed that other creature, it's too dangerous to hang around here." (Reader) readied themselves to climb, immediately hissing as they grabbed into the dirt. The monster panicked, growling at (Reader). But they didn't stop, kicking a foot in, creating a hold, and pulling up. White hot pain flashed through their body.

An arm grabbed them around their waist, and swung (Reader) around; the monster had picked them up like a sack over his shoulder, and began climbing the wall with one arm.

"Jesus Christ." Rodriguez grabbed at (Reader) as soon as they were within reach, yanking them away from the monster. He snarled in response, trying to cover (Reader) with his body, but (Reader) wearily pat him on the head, trying to show that they were fine. He calmed down, but still glared at Rodriguez suspiciously. "What the hell are you?"

"Where's the rest of us?" (Reader) questioned, only now seeing that Rodriguez was alone.

"Only one other guy made it, Davis. He was fucked up when we found him, I got him in the van."

"I'm sorry.."

"It wasn't your fault. Let's go." Rodriguez helped (Reader) to their feet, handing them their gun, and the three left the tent.

Bodies of (Reader's) mates were in pieces, littering the ground with organs. Everyone was wrinkled. Whatever blood hadn't spilled on the ground while being murdered appeared to have been siphoned from their bodies, the chunks nearly mummified. The two soldiers watched their new companion as they snuck back through the outpost, using him like a blood hound to sense if his more dangerous relative was near. There were moments when he would pause, a frightened look crossing his face as he clung to (Reader), and both humans would hold their breath, desperately clinging to the faith that this monster was actually trying to save them.

The sun was still hours away from rising, and horror movie plots drifted through (Reader's) mind, pondering what kind of creature was clinging to their arm at that moment, and what could possibly kill it. (Reader) sped up their pace, rushing to the driver's side door as Rodriguez pulled the unwilling monster into the back with her, wrestling him as he tried to follow (Reader).

Each team leader had a spare key for the truck, so it didn't matter who drove it back, but Rodriguez did have more hands on experience with first aid, so it made sense for her to be in the back with the barely conscious Davis during the ride, just in case his health took a turn for the worse.

The van started up, worryingly loud in the silent town. (Reader) pulled off their goggles and flipped on the lights, flooring the gas as they took off, knowing it was no use trying to be quiet at that point. From the back of the van, the monster started crying.

"Hey, something's wrong with this thing!" Rodriguez called out to (Reader), before the entire van shook under the weight of something dropping onto the roof. "Shit!"

Without thinking, (Reader) spun the wheel to the left, throwing the bloody monster off their vehicle and sending him tumbling into the road. He was able to shake off the fall, standing upright and staring at (Reader) from the road. Now without the night vision, (Reader) saw him clearly in the headlights, the difference between his brown armored shell pieces, and the mammal like skin, almost paper thin in the light, pulsated with the blood of (Reader's) teammates and the doctors they were sent to find. The skin was stretched tight over how swollen he was, growing to almost twice its natural size.

"Hold on!" (Reader) barked, speeding towards the man in the road.

His head snapped forward as his chest connected with the grill, bouncing off the hood as (Reader) drug him back towards the buildings, driving him towards the house with the rec room. (Reader) kept on full speed until they crashed into the wall. Blood splashed across the wall and van as the monster popped under the force of the collision.

"Shit! Are we good?"

The body twitched a few times, choking on it's stolen blood as it feebly clawed at the metal crushing it before falling still, finally dying. "Yeah. We're good."

Back at the base, it was a horrifying shock for the troops awaiting their return, guns raised and pointed at the young monster they brought with them, however, they didn't shoot, as he held onto (Reader) tightly, making no move to attack anyone. They uploaded their body cam footage, corroborating their testimonies of what they saw, save for Davis, who was rushed back to the hospital wing for emergency surgery. (Reader) and Rodriguez were also eventually treated for their injuries, Rodriguez only needing a couple of stitches and getting diagnosed with a concussion, while (Reader) had their arm placed in a cast, and both ankles had to be wrapped up for compression to fight the mild puffiness.

The two sat next to each other, finally alone after the military dragged their monstrous savior away. "God, I need a shower." The dark haired woman complained, sniffing her hair that had been let down. Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I smell like those things."

"Ha. Yeah, like rotting fruit."

"Rotting raspberries. So gross." Rodriguez's forced smile melted, incapable of pretending to feel relief. "Why do you think he saved you?"

Clashing with the smell of the sanitized hospital and the saline aftertaste from the IV drip, (Reader) could still smell the pungent scent of the monster on their body, just as Rodriguez pointed out. "I don't know."

"What do you think those things are? Vampires?"

The image of Adam's limp body sliding off of a thin spike resurfaced in (Reader's) mind, making them nauseous. "I don't think so." They leaned forward, scooting closer towards Rodriguez. "I didn't see your body cam video.. did you see mine?"

"No. Why?"

"Did any of the bodies- I mean, this is going to sound.." they sighed, licking their lips and trying again. "When I entered that tent, with the hole, I found the monster with Adams. It had.. torn off her clothes, and it looked like he was.. stabbing her abdomen, with a claw out of his pelvis."

Except for the normal hospital beeping, (Reader's) words left the atmosphere feeling far too silent. "Are you saying it raped her?"

"I don't know.. maybe. Did you see any other naked bodies?"

"..no." They both laid back, exhausted, and frightened. "But if you're thinking that it could tell she was a woman, why weren't we attacked? I mean, I know you're not a woman, but if those things went by smell or pheromones.. I don't even know what I'm saying." She drug her dirty hands over her face.

"Maybe because our's is a kid. I mean, he's the size of that first monster before it molted, so maybe he isn't.. sexually mature?"

Before Rodriguez could think of a response to that a doctor came in, asking to see her out in the hallway. "I'll be right back." She promised, patting (Reader's) shoulder as she left the room.

(Reader) nestled back into the thin pillow and accidentally fell asleep while waiting for their friend to return, the awful rotting smell never fading.

It wasn't until a banshee worthy scream echoed throughout the hospital that (Reader) woke up, looking up at the clock on the wall and seeing that it was 19:31, revealing that they had slept through an entire day, and that Rodriguez was not in the room with them. Something down the hall shattered, followed by another terrified shout. Unarmed and now incapacitated, the only course of action their adrenaline flooded mind could think up on the fly was to hide, ripping out their IV and sliding under the cot, hidden from view by the crossing metal bars and plastic barrier.

Footsteps passed by (Reader's) door. They took a deep breath, holding their face to keep in their air. The door opened and whoever it was entered the room. (Reader) was only capable of seeing the bare feet painted in blood as they stepped closer to the bed. The bloody individual leaned on the mattress above (Reader), pressing their weight into it, before stepping away, touching other things around the room. Blood dripped onto the tiles from the drenched body. (Reader) began shaking, trying not to take a breath as they waited for the thing to leave, tearing up at the possibility of it being the creature they willingly brought back with them. The feet disappeared from view, then they heard the door close. Still, just to be safe, (Reader) kept their hands to their mouth for a few more seconds, unable to hear if he left because of the blood rushing through their ears. Quietly, they released the lungful of air and slowly sucked new air back in.

A hand grabbed one of their swollen ankles and pulled (Reader) out from under the bed. In the dim light of the flashing buttons, (Reader) saw the freshly molted monster, smiling down at them with blood coating their face and dribbling from their lips.

"No!" A casted fist attempted to punch him, but he caught it, rubbing the puffy fingers against his face affectionately. He leaned down, rubbing his nose across their face like he had done back when he had first saved them, sniffing loudly. (Reader) began sobbing, knowing what would happen to them after Adams. The thin hospital gown was easily ripped off, pleasing the monster who made that purr-like rumble in the back of his throat, still smiling.

A long, thinly tipped aedeagus unfurled itself, curved and sharp, just like (Reader) remembered it looking.

"Please don't.. please.. I don't want to die!"

Their words weren't understood by the monster, too busy rubbing (Reader's) side. He laid down beside them, hugging (Reader) tightly as he positioned himself, still sniffing their neck as he did so. Between (Reader's) pleas a stinging pain entered their side as he pushed his hypodermic penis into their midsection.

The sound of pain (Reader) made was unlike anything they had ever made, or heard, before. Incapable of jerking away because of his hold on them, he continued making noises of pleasure, rolling his hips as he pressed deeper, splurting blood as he wiggled back and forth inside of them, trying not to puncture anything important until he could get deep enough to what he needed.

His prick pierced (Reader's) uterus, the burning torture as they felt something inside getting stabbed was hell. Their eyes rolled back as his hips rubbed sensually against their side, unable to hold on as they began to pass out. He screeched horrifically, scratching (Reader) as his grip constricted happily, cumming straight into (Reader's) uterus. Even after they fell limp in his arms, his fluids continued pouring out, overfilling the poor organ; his elastic liquid solidifying near the hole like a polyp.

Contrary to what (Reader) thought, the monster who caressed their body was intelligent. He was far smarter than his brother, who had been so desperate to implant his seed he fucked that poor woman to death, not taking into account that human females hadn't evolved to handle the method of reproduction that their species used. Even their own could die if they mated multiple times, so he really should have been more careful. He held onto (Reader) dreamily, using their gown to stop the bleeding as he pulled out. He took the time to ensure nothing was damaged inside his wonderful little mate, so the only bleeding he had to worry about was the skin. Some of his sperm clung to the tip of his needle like cock, so he rubbed it across (Reader's) face as they laid unconscious, just so that if another male of his species did somehow follow them, the could smell that (Reader) had already been claimed.

When he was searching the hospital for (Reader) he had seen stitching, and learned what it was for by watching a doctor from afar before killing him and the patient. It wasn't too difficult to figure out.

(Reader) would live. It would hurt, but imagine how happy they'll be when they awake to find themselves pregnant! It made him purr with joy, wondering how many children he'd have with his beautiful human.

After all, unlike humans, his species only needed to fuck once and their sperm would survive inside the host body for years, creating a kind of sac to plug up the hole in the uterus and protect the sperm from the forming infants, releasing sperm whenever there is a vacancy in the uterus to immediately impregnate the host again.

His mate shifted under the needle in their sleep as he fixed them up. It brought him such pride, imagining that he could almost see them becoming pregnant at that very moment. He knew from the second he smelled (Reader) down in the dirt he was unburied from that he was born to be their mate~

#yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #cw noncon #cw death #cw violence #cw monsterfucking #traumatic insemination #bed bug inspired #bad writing #not proofread

[manofthepipis]

Hoooiii!!!! Do you have any deltarune hc? Like for the Fun Gang, Addison’s, Chaos Duo? Just wondering 🙃

For me, Jevil has a soft spot for kids (ex, Lancer)

aaaa i have so many, though not much for the fun gang as we approach more dr chapters, but i've mainly thrown headcanons onto the darkners here

for the addisons, i feel like all of them are night owls/never getting much sleep. They work a lot, but the transition to castle town has given them a bit of a break. Spamton, out of all of them, never/barely sleeps, being kept up by his own plan-making and next attempt at getting his sales to skyrocket, though always to fail. This only got worse in his post-big-shot years where constant attempts on the mansion kept him endlessly busy. He doesn't rest, and so he'll work himself until he crashes.

jevil is the opposite, at least to me! i'd like to imagine his time in the card kingdom (prior to his imprisonment) he would sleep often, since the joker card isn't used in many games (if at all). He'd sleep in the scarlet forest mainly, where i headcanon he got approached by the same being that helped spamton out. Seam set him up a little hammock near the ceiling so that he could sleep while they worked on mage-type stuff. Post-imprisonment, it was entertaining himself with solo-led games, perfecting his fighting patterns, and sleeping a lot. It would be kind of cool if, in contrast to spamton meeting their shared benefactor over the phone, jevil met him in a dream, until waking up and finding the dream was real.

Though i do like that headcanon that jevil has a soft spot for kids, i feel it's incredibly rare nowadays as he doesn't care much for anything anymore, rather than pure fun and chaos (he did try to kill three of them after all, and not out of desperation like spamton had but just because of the game). Like, his mind has cracked since his imprisonment, but he sees the potential for others to see past their own imprisonment and stir up some trouble for the nature of things. I feel he'd really like Susie especially, and Noelle for her ability to disrupt the narrative (like her objecting the player's snowgrave command at first). Though i do like the idea prior-imprisonment him trying to play games with Lancer, and Seam joining in. Though Jevil does not care for rouxls whatsoever and pities his existence above anyone else's. Something about being tied to "Rules" just doesn't sit well with him.

I definitely side on jevil knowing about the roaring, and the knight, but telling us would spoil the fun of the player finding out before the real fun has began. On the other hand, spamton desperately wants to tell Kris, to help them get an upper hand on us controlling them, but can't. I feel he's been conditioned in his time being puppeted to short out mentally whenever bringing such a topic up as seen in-game.

speaking of jevil, i headcanon he took a liking to spamton immediately, seeing how different he was from the other addisons and wanted to see what route his fate would start to go down as they both discovered more and more about what was really going on in their universe. Spamton was too focused on everything else to bother to care what jevil was or what his purpose was, but Jevil would return home to excitedly tell Seam everything about the puppeted salesman from the digital world.

onto darkners from the digital world, i feel like swatch took the brunt of the work preventing spamton from getting too close to neo, so when they physically couldn't take his wacky antics anymore, they reached out to Tasque manager, who helped them set up all the traps in the basement. She's dealt with spamton a handful of times, and one time had him captured so Swatch could try and talk to him and make one final attempt to reason with him, but he was too far gone at that point, deadset on neo.

that's all i got so far! just a few that have been swirling around in my brain for awhile lol, ! it keeps this 2+ year time without a new chapter just a little more fun :D

#dr!hc #asks #srry for the length of this i just love talking about these darkners sm #sadly don't have many for the fun gang so i'm open to a lot of headcanons

[teecupangel]

So, ive recently gotten back into Protocreed and a what if..? idea i had was:

After Abstergo recovers Desmonds body, they experiment with his DNA and Blacklight. Resulting in him being revived after an outbreak and breaking free.

It could even be the assassins fault that the outbreak happened!

.

In the midst of the chaos, no one noticed the body dissapearing. It's only after the outbreak was contained and culled that Subject 17 was noted as missing. With all the footage being destroyed it is impossible to tell what happened to it, but the general consensis is that one of the infected ate it. It is a crushing blow to their research, but thankfully they have plenty of samples stored in a different facility, so all hope is not lost. No one thought of the possibilty that a repeat of Alex Mercer's revival could happen. Subject 17 has been dead for months, the body is simply too old. So no one thought too look in the shadows of the city, where something lay lurking. Tracking. Hunting.

Hungering

So I have a ProtoCreed idea similar to this that I posted here.

The comments/replies have more details on how it would go but, in a nutshell, Blacklight is a failed/abandoned Isu project headed by Tinia (so we can have a little hehe moment with Alex being called ‘Zeus’) and Dr Mercer is not a Templar but he’s still a piece of work.

And Desmond’s Isu to human genes ratio + his Bleeding Effect screwed up the virus that he still has the superhuman feats that Alex has but he can’t morph his body to have weapons or anything like that.

Instead…

It’s like he can spawn three specific humanoid figures made of the black and red writhing flesh which only has one specific goal: keep Desmond safe.

There’s more details in the link above but the main point is that Desmond’s virus makes him be able to ‘summon’ his ancestors who holds a piece of Alex’s OG abilities and it’s unclear if they are mindless or if their connection with Desmond keeps them docile because when Abstergo try to cut their connection (which are tendrils of red and black connecting the creatures to Desmond’s shadow), the creature goes berserk and attacks and devours everything around until Desmond reconnects with it.

So we have:

Altaïr = Blade

Ezio = Hammerfist

Ratonhnhaké:ton = Whipfist

Ezio gets Hammerfist because the sword of Altaïr is iconic so Altaïr gets the Blade and Ratonhnhaké:ton had the ropedart so he gets the Whipfist. XD

Although, in my original idea, Desmond keeps his memories (thanks to the Bleeding Effect) but if you want to go down the route of Desmond being ‘incubated’ by the virus during the story of Prototype and waking up afterwards, we can easily do that and the incubation period is actually what corrupted Desmond’s mind.

So in this situation, Desmond would be more like ‘Eve’ from Parasite Eve, the new origin of an outbreak (and everyone believes it’s Alex’s fault which will lead us to a modified setup for Prototype 2 and Alex and Desmond having an antagonistic start).

But the outbreak is strange because it seemed… targeted.

The ones to be hit first were Abstergo facilities or facilities under Abstergo’s shell companies.

And the spread only began when these facilities had fallen and the barricades have been breached, like… it wasn’t truly intentional but more of a ‘side effect’.

So now we have Alex trying to figure out what this new outbreak is because the ‘children’ for this one are faster and more cunning, using their surrounding to hide and wait. And these children seemed to be taking orders from three creatures made of darkness and blood.

(Or, if you want to preserve the Assassin white and red color scheme, it’s gonna be grosser with them being filled with pus and blood instead. The pus could be a sign that the virus is being combated by Desmond’s Isu genes though and that could be a clue for Alex)

And any time Alex tries to eat any of them, he only gains snippets of the memories of the same person: a man named Desmond Miles.

The three commander creatures also seemed to travel via shadows, being able to melt into the shadows before Alex could ever destroy them completely.

Later, he would realize that the whole city (whichever city we’re planning to set this on) are filled with what looked like lines all over (maybe one would say that maybe it’s the ley lines or something and Alex would say that it looks more like… veins…) and these veins are actually how the commanders travel all over the city.

At the center of the veins is a cocoon…

#maybe calling desmond “eve” might not be correct in this one? #but it’s the first comparison i thought of #so the outbreak happens because desmond needs to ‘eat’ #to heal up #and the creatures are all acting #with that directive in mind #alex is an anomaly that they attack on sight #but he’s also an anomaly that is dangerous #so they don’t try to “eat” him #I’m thinking dana is the one to get in contact with the assassins #via erudito or something #and shaun and rebecca support alex via drones #all named the same as the ac syndicate drones #protocreed #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #prototype #alex mercer

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Erastil: The Grim White Stag

CR 15

Lawful Good Colossal Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 286

The second largest of all the Heralds, the Grim White Stag lives up to its name in every respect it can. Despite serving the god of community and family, the Grim White Stag (which I will be referring to as the Stag from now on) is almost always alone, preferring the company of animals and non-sapient beasts to anything else. Despite the fact it can speak and understand multiple languages, even those of the Druids, the Stag has never said a single word to any being that could possibly understand it, leading many to believe it simply can't speak. It is said that the Stag is only ever seen by human life every 20 to 30 years, as it spends all other times withdrawn from civilization walking a relatively lonely path through the forests of Golarion, instinctively avoiding stomping over innocent creatures and valuable plants as wildlife follows in its wake.

Despite its isolationist behavior, the Stag will leap into the fray to defend whatever tiny settlement Erastil commands it to protect with a show of force that may simply scatter the invading force immediately. What fool would stand in the path of a stone and wood deer 60ft tall? Worse still, when the Stag arrives, it often does so with an army; its echoing Bugle can be heard for miles around, with all wildlife and followers of Erastil instinctively recognizing it and instantly knowing the distance and direction of its source. Like something out of a Disney movie (or perhaps a Lord of the Rings film), invading soldiers may hear a low, mournful noise that echoes throughout a nearby forest and hear the footsteps of a titan growing slowly, inexorably closer. Then a 60ft tall incarnate of the wilds breaks the treeline in plodding steps so calm it practically radiates the idea that you couldn't harm it with any weapon you own, glowing white eyes fixed on you and your wicked allies with what is unquestionably a look of judgment, and before your commander can even give the order to fire upon this creature, the forest is alive with the sounds of every beast, bug, and blade of grass turning to take up arms against you.

The first arrow that flies isn't from your side, it's from the men and women in camouflage and animal skins that you didn't even realize had surrounded you until you were already routed, and it's embedded itself in your commander. The battle breaks out, and the titan of nature lowers its head and charges into the fray.

Unlike many of the Heralds we've seen thus far, the Stag is almost entirely built for battle. It's got some minor curative magic, able to use Neutralize Poison and Cure Disease 3/day each, and it's able to use Lay on Hooves 10/day to restore 9d6 HP to any creature in its reach, or to itself as a swift action, but all of this is window dressing. Like the Grand Defender, the Stag exists hit things really hard a lot of times in a row, and in turn be really hard to harm.

To begin with its defenses: A lot of the time, I outright don't talk about any DR or Regeneration Heralds have, because it's often shut down by exposure to Evil weapons and spells, meaning the very creatures they're destined to fight have the easiest time harming them. The Stag, however, has a novel DR that makes it that much harder for most creatures to hurt it: Its DR 10 can only be bypassed by a weapon that's both Evil and silver. Silver weapons are anathema to many fiends and creatures that would otherwise hunt the Stag, so they aren't likely to be carrying them around, and any creature which relies on Evil-charged natural attacks simply can't pierce its DR unless their natural attack somehow counts as silver.

Like many angelic beings, the Stag sheds a 20ft Protective Aura around itself, but sadly it's much weaker than the auras of most true Angels, only granting +4 to AC and +4 to saving throws to every being inside it against the attacks and effects of Evil creatures, rather than just all the time. It also doesn't hedge out hostile spells like the usual Aura, but in all honesty I can see why: it's got a 30ft space. A 20 radius sphere surrounding a 30ft space is a ludicrous area of protection, and since it's Colossal, the Stag can share its space with any number of its smaller allies. Were it afforded the full Protective Aura of the angels, it'd cover a fourth or even half of a typical battlefield with it... but of course, a DM can always modify that if they really feel like giving the Stag some extra juice.

This isn't all the Stag has to offer its allies, though. Defense is well and good, but the Stag can also give some offense with its Cascade of Spears, an intimidating-sounding ability that's actually harmless for approximately 6 seconds. This cascade sees the Stag shaking its head, its antlers shedding massive fragments to the ground below--18 fragments, to be exact, each of which can take the shape of a +1 shortspear, spear, longspear, or bundle of five +1 arrows or +1 crossbow bolts, individually chosen by the Stag as they fall from its head. These weapons retain their magic for only 18 minutes before losing their charge, but that's often enough for them to make a difference in the fight the Stag has joined.

When the Stag itself finally starts swinging, it hurts. It has a pair of hooves which deal 2d8+7 damage each, but its primary attack is a gore, dealing 4d6+14 damage and throwing whoever is hit 10ft away from it... but because it's got a 30ft space and a 20ft reach, its target is likely not knocked out of its melee range, but their own melee range, forcing them to waste time walking back up to it to try again and essentially making it a pseudo-stagger. This also has the side effect of pushing a target out of melee with the Stag's squishier allies while allowing them to still attack with the superior range of their fancy new spears.

Against a whole army of foes, the Stag can simply rush in and Trample over the lot of them, dealing 2d8+21 damage to any creature that doesn't move or doesn't succeed a DC 33 Reflex save. With the majority of its foes likely unable to meaningfully harm it, the colossal cervid can elect to just Trample them over and over each round until the majority are dealt with and its allies move in to mop up. Simple, direct, and effective.

To close out, the Stag has one more unusual act it can perform in order to either bolster an army before a battle or restore them after a pitched fight: Heroes Feast. This isn't like a normal casting of the power, though; the Stag can only perform this act once a month, and it does so by laying down and dying, its wood and stone body splitting open to reveal a banquet for up to 18 creatures. Anyone who partakes gains the benefits of the spell, restoring their bodies and minds and bolstering them against foul elements, whether that be what has passed or what is to come. Thankfully this does not put a permanent end to the Stag, as it returns to full life and health the very next sunrise... so if it performs this feasting ritual at sunset, by the next morning it will be back at full power, just in time for whatever mission Old Deadeye has for it.

You can read more about it here.

#Holy Heralds Month #Monster Spotlight #CR 11 to 15 #Pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

[jpitha]

Just another Merc

When I signed on with the human mercenary group, I wasn't sure what to expect.

They were just as surprised to see a K'laxi standing outside their offices on the starbase asking to sign up. They asked me about qualifications and I pointed out that K'laxi have excellent hearing, can do a standing leap up to 2 meters in the air and I had served on human ships before. Out of what I think was more a sense of amusement, they signed me on for a one year trial.

The truce with the Xenni meant that there was no more war, but there was plenty of work for a group of former human soldiers (and K'laxi trained by former human soldiers) to go and as they said "solve problems."

The training was grueling. They taught me how to shoot - I couldn't handle the kick of human pistols or rifles, but I could handle a submachine gun well and my smaller frame meant it fit me better and - they grudgingly admitted - I was more accurate with it. I could leap from the ground into the gunner position on the vehicles and my hearing helped me pinpoint targets faster than they could. They even taught me how to drive! They set up their ground vehicles to have seats and pedals that could adjust to my smaller frame, and I could run the vehicle easily. It was scary fun to be in control of such a large, powerful human vehicle.

My first real mission came a few months after I signed on. We were hired to rescue some K'laxi who were being held on an outer Xenni colony world. The Xenni denied holding them against their will, but conveniently nobody could land to go and pick them up either. I never knew who hired us, but the rumor was it was someone in the upper echelons of the K'laxi diplomatic corps who fronted the money. Later, I learned that our commander Kirk, offered the job for nearly free because he felt bad about their situation.

We loaded up our ship, the Theory of Everything with our vehicles and weapons and it started to print a dropship. I guess we didn't do a lot of surface missions that require a drop from orbit, but the Theory had plans in their archive and could make one en route.

We used the gates until we were one jump away from the planet, known to the Xenni as Ixar. At that point, Kirk briefed us on what was going to happen. We were going to open a wormhole into the atmosphere of Ixar, jump in, drop to a park close by, rescue the K'laxi and then boost out and into a safe orbit and be picked up by the Theory. Since it was a world out on the far border from either K'laxi or Human space, it had minimal planetary defenses and what they called a "shock" attack would work.

Easy, he said.

Since it was all going to happen very fast, me, Betty, Jen and Kirk buckled into the dropship, sitting in the hold of the Theory. That way, the Theory could spend the least amount of time possible in the atmosphere of Ixar.

I was lucky. I was not one of the 1 in 10 sapients that "dies" when you go through a wormhole. Jen is, and she throws up nearly every time she comes back. I asked her once what she saw, and she gave me a look such that I never asked her again. When we're on a mission though, she doesn't seem to have to throw up. I wonder why?

We appeared with a titanic thunderclap in the atmosphere of Ixar and the Theory shot us out of the hold. We screamed through the atmosphere at nearly 10 times the speed of sound, belly first, drop ship getting uncomfortably warm as it smashed into the atmosphere of the world.

We landed in a park in the middle of a city with heavy rocket fire to slow us down, not caring a bit about the vegetation we destroyed with our landing. The back opened and it was my turn to shine! I had memorized our route hours earlier and expertly maneuvered the huge armored vehicle through the narrow city streets.

We encountered no resistance other than Xenni civilians running away in fear from our huge, black, human vehicle until we reached the compound where the K'laxi were being held.

I blasted the front gate and we drove in. Kirk said they were being held on the south side, so I drove around to there until I found the door the maps had said would be there. I opened the rear door, set the brake, and yelled "GO GET THEM!"

Over the radio, I heard the attack. While our fall through the atmosphere was enough to surprise and overwhelm the planetary defenses, the local garrison was also stationed at the compound and the team encountered heavy resistance. They found the K'laxi though, and dragged them out, back to me. So far so good.

As soon as everyone was aboard, I yelled for them to be secured and closed the door. Through a hail of small arms fire, I wheeled the vehicle back towards the drop ship. While I was driving, I used the turret on the top to attack the pursuers. Kirk was hanging out the back, using a machine gun to assist while Betty and Jen made sure the K'laxi were safe.

One of the civilians, in the midst of all the action and noise and smoke noticed I was K'laxi. In accented K'venti (which meant she was from the far north of our planet) she said "What...what are you doing here?"

"I'm rescuing you, honored one" I replied in our language while I concentrated on the road.

"I see that, and thank you; I meant more what are you, K'laxi doing here, among these beings of war."

I stammered, half concentrating on driving, half embarrassed at what she was implying. "I...I'm doing what I need to do."

"Hmm" was all she said, and settled back into her seat and Jen secured her tighter.

We made it to the drop ship and drove aboard and told it to take off without us even getting out of the ground vehicle. It wasn't an AI like the Theory was, but it was smart enough to take off and get us to orbit.

We met up with the Theory and linked out in another wormhole.

The whole trip back to K'laxi space, they spoke to me respectfully, but they talked to me not like I was a fellow K'laxi, but almost like I was a human solider. Someone to be respected and feared, but not a friend.

It was odd. I was - at the same time - proud and sad about that.

When we got back, Kirk caught up with me when I was at the firing range and said that I had passed with "flying colors" and that I could stay on as long as I wanted.

I grunted a thank you, and reloaded.

My groupings were still too wide.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are warriors #sci fi writing #writing

[fancifulplaguerat]

Clara/the Changeling and Daniil have possibly my favorite dynamic in all of Patho. Just the setup of Daniil being a doctor bound to stop the plague and the Changeling being he plague herself is unmatched to me. Especially because the Changeling often refers to herself as Death, so Daniil/Clara interactions are like Daniil having to deal with death itself, in a way. I think the game does play with this a little, such as Clara imploring that Daniil catch her ‘sister’ because “She’s scared of you! She knows you’ve already almost killed her...” It is delightful to me. I think my absolute favorite is when Grace tells Daniil that Clara’s going “To fool the doctor. Said the doctor’s not so smart... That she fooled everyone and she’s going to fool him too. Turn his needles into hooks so he won’t prick her hands.” I love the imagery of the Changeling manipulating his instruments into her own. Like needles and hooks are what Daniil and Clara use to literally and figuratively get under people’s skin and decipher what’s going on with said person in their quests.

I also adore when Clara characterises Daniil’s ‘role’ in the game—in the Bachelor Route she says, “As you can see, you’ve fit into it perfectly. Bravo! Encore! And your persona was... ‘the smartest and the fairest’. Others would have been less convincing.” And in the Changeling Route: “You’re that learned fool from vulgar comedies. Try repeating all of that in Latin; you might bring down the house.” And speaking of personas. I find it delightful when Daniil confuses Clara’s for his own: 

Tragedian: [The play] only has bold Masks, just Masks, and miserable Masks...

> What is the play about?

> I've only seen two Masks so far: the miserable one... and the bold one, I presume? It has a remarkably bold beak. *

Tragedian: [...] No, Bachelor; you've seen the Miserable Mask and the Just Mask—that is to say, the punishing one. The Bold Mask is you.

I do find Clara and Daniil incredibly similar, whether intentionally or not, and that’s partly when I find their dynamic so compelling. In typical Patho-doubles fashion, they feel like two sides of the same coin, with similar motivations but different conceptions of said motives. For one, they are both highly motivated by justice. Even if Clara is more led by her heart, in being the plague she is framed as divine judgement, and justice remains a strong thread throughout her character. Then Daniil is, of course, Dr I Will Find Answers and Justice Will Be Restored, and I find this overlap especially tasty because both the plague and doctor see themselves as bearers of justice. Their stories are also driven by their respective attempts to break the Law/achieve the miraculous, and Clara even has a slight utopian flavor in how she talks about the future she intends to create with the Commander. 

I feel Clara’s similarity to Daniil really draws out how he can be his own detriment when it comes to miracles. As I’ve thought more about Daniil, it does seem that he stifles his own imagination and dreams with logic. His obsession with truth further seems to constrain him; I think his pursuit of truth is partly an extension of his need for rationality. He disregards the irrational and contradictory, because contradiction is incompatible with truth. As he tells Clara, “I don’t believe you, Changeling... You cannot be trusted because you always contradict yourself.” I feel that Daniil tries to organize reality neatly into what’s true and what isn’t to form a logical and ‘correct’ understanding of a situation, but it’s to his detriment because people and life are inconsistent, some things don’t make sense, so to disregard all that as lies robs him of a more complete understanding of the world. Like Clara tells him, “you have reconstructed a picture of the whole Universe and found the root of what happened, but your picture is austere and barebones... You have merely come to understand the mechanics of the events. You are generally a mechanic of medic.” From a meta standpoint, I think that playing as Daniil definitely offers the most bare-bones understanding of Patho, or at least the most ‘rational’ explanation of events that doesn’t communicate the richness of the world that you get with Artemy and Clara. This makes sense, of course—it allows the player a thorough introduction to make the next two routes more comprehensible. As Clara, the player can also say “There are no bachelors and no towns here, blind man! There’s just you and I. And you are my past. Meaning that, technically, there’s just me and I.” Which God I love it from a meta standpoint because presumably the player has done a route as Daniil, so he is the player’s past

A last thing I wanted to touch on is their diverging conceptions of fate. Daniil professes that he doesn’t believe in it and that it’s just a tool for excuses, such as telling Georgiy, “Categories like ‘time’, ‘nature’, and ‘fate’ deprive man of responsibility for what goes on around him. I was taught to avoid this worldview.” As I’ve said before, I feel that Daniil has a very internal locus of control, and sees everything as driven by actions, consequences, or coincidence. Clara largely does believe in fate, describing herself as bound by a set path and spending much of her route manipulating fate—not just her own, but deciding others’ as well. And in my opinion only Artemy manages to claim autonomy from it because he’s just. “No thanks I’m me actually fuck off.” I don’t think Daniil or the Changeling manage to escape it, but by stealing Clara’s fate, the Changeling still achieves a victory over the Law that Daniil (arguably, depending) does not. 

Also, I couldn’t justify putting them anywhere but I have to include these dialogues because I love them so much 

Bachelor: What, you and Maria talk to each other? Unbelievable. Maria denounced you as a Changeling and said that if you came to her again, she'd have you thrown into the Gorkhon to see if you'd sink or swim. Does this mean you've swum?

> No! *

> Quit fooling around! Let me into the Cathedral.

Bachelor: So you sank? That makes you a non-witch; but then you must be a revenant, and I don't know which is worse. Shame that the bullets in my revolver are leaden and not silver. But perhaps they'll do too...

Bachelor: Blimey! Look who's here, the demon huntress... I hope you've got your stake of aspen wood with you... And silver, lots of it.

> You're still a slave to your worldview...

> That last part sounded oddly covetous. *

Bachelor: Could be... I'm not the one without sin here. That would be you.

Just how Daniil is vehemently “the supernatural DOES NOT exist” 😡 and then says all this to her. Clara telling him to stop fooling around. Everything about the second one. kisses him kisses him kisses him 

#pathologic #daniil dankovsky #clara saburova #patho.txt

[dark-falz]

PSO Timeline of the Profound Sadness (Detailed lore timeline regarding Episodes 1&2,)

There's also stuff about Phantasy Star 0 in here too because they take place in the same universe! But I'm trash and didn't beat it and it was years ago so idr shit I'll go back to it one day ok promise anyway

LONG LORE POST completely spoiler

Inhabited planet Coral is drained of natural resources. The government, organizations called "The Alliance of Nations" (includes 10) , and "Black Paper" initiate the "Pioneer Project" to find a new planet to colonize. They are gifted from a passing asteroid with Photon energy. They use it to backtrack where it came from to find a place to inhabit. After approx. 7 years, Ragol is found. Coral mentions; Shino: RAcaseal, purchased & passed down to Zoke Dr. Calus: was working on an AI, also named Calus, who developed his personality. Calus dies before the AI is completed. Dr. Jean Montague: 11 yrs. old approx, researches D-Cells brought back from probes with Dr. Osto, create MAGs* which are the beginning of the MOTHER/Delta program 7 yearsish later (travel is heavily disputed among sources apparently but w/e) The people on Pioneer 1 included; Heathcliff Flowen: Deputy Army Commander Rico Tyrell: Pupil of Flowen, Scientist, Hunter Dr. Osto Hyle: Lead researcher Mr. & Mrs. Graves: Photon Engineer, Geneticist WORKS (Government military) AI: Olga, Calus, & Vol Opt (meant to assist with Pioneer 1 research and step 2 of MOTHER) - AI Purposes: - Vol Opt: Security - Calus: Information - Olga: Contact, nearly identical specs to Calus (unsure if these two count as AI as they aren't mentioned much) - MOTHER: evolution & control - Delta: Caretaker of MOTHER Established buildings Gal Da Val Island - Research Facility (Houses Delta/MOTHER Vortex and will house Olga) Mines - Robot building plant (+All mine enemies) - Houses Calus (EPI)& Vol Opt - Dr. Osto's first lab (mines 2) Forest - Central Dome: supplies, communication center

Exploration begins followed quickly by construction. Animals are noted as friendly and docile.

Dr. Osto & Graves create a mutant life form for unmentioned reasons, it starts off small, but has the ability to self-replicate.

Ruins are discovered by Flowen. Military WORKS sends in investigation team. Everyone becomes possessed, then dies turning into the bad guys as portrayed in the quest: From the Depths. Flowen leads a second team in. Falz is unsealed and kills everyone but Flowen, leaving him wounded. When he escapes, Falz is sealed again.

Flowen's wound is infected with both D-Cells and Parasitic Gene Flow, causing them to be alive in their own. Osto calls this a "D-Type Factor". Flowen knows his time is short, and pledges his body to Dr. Osto for research under 2 conditions. - A letter is set to his family informing them of his death. - That pioneer 2 is postponed/stopped from reaching Ragol (Spoilers: Neither request are honored)

Flowen is unaware of the Central Control Area's existance until he is brought there.

Olga is moved to the SeaBed, where Osto had been working on developing a super soldier. Construction of the Cental Dome is completed. Flowen's body is merged with Olga in hopes of controlling it. In failure Olga Flow is dumped into the Testing Subject Disposal Area.

Scientists tried moving De Rol due to his size. De Rol kills the scientists and escapes through the ducts. Its tentacles that stab you during battle is what caused the mutation of the cave's dwellings'. (Barbra Ray is a speculated open or salt-water variant)

War continues on Coral and the 10 Nation Alliance is weakening. Instead of telling the Government to stop Pioneer 2, Osto calls Ragol a "Paradise World" and gets the approval to make bioweapons.* Pioneer 2 starts route.

Animals becoming violent and infected causes Rico to begin investigating. Rico activates the pillars upon investigating them, being under the impression they were built to commemorate the landing of Pioneer 1 from the government, however concluding this was a lie. Rico investigates until her demise and leaves confirming messages that: the ruins is a spaceship from the Algo star system of the Original Phantasy Star series to seal Dark Falz, the reborn Profound Darkness every 1000 years to reborn itself from hate as the seal weakens.

On Pioneer 2, Dr. Montague is working on developing Elenor/Mother 00 and Ult/Mother 01 and Elly Person begins contact with Calus.

Pioneer 2 reaches Ragol (approx 7 years)

Explosion caused by Dark Falz in Central Dome occurs when connection is attempted, everyone from Pioneer 1 is killed with the exceptions of Mutated Rico & Mutated Flowen.

Vol Opt's security system is breached due to explosion and corrupted due to unusual Photons & D Cells causing everything in the Mines to attack.

Calus reaches out to Elly for "help" but has been corrupted and craves a human body. Elly backs up & stores his data before he shuts himself down.

Military attempts to take over Ult following Dr. Osto's plans. Eleanor & Ult fuse to become MOTHER, briefly, as due to abnormal Photon energies, its too much for Eleanor.

Calus data is used by Pioneer 2 to begin development of the "CALs system." This is part of a navigation system any Hunter can access. (Like Rico's messages, the floating things that drop you info in episode 2, is part of "Calus".)

Natasha Milarose receives a message from someone on Ragol leaving the impression that someone from Pioneer 1 is still alive on Gal Da Val Island.

Going through VR testing with Elly before permission to reach the island, Calus has form of a FOmar. (techincally there are 2 one with red eyes and one with blue eyes, one loves Elly and wants to be with her aw the other is always basically on the clock doing what its suppose to. ((Assuming this is due to abnormal photons and having 2 of the same system on top of each other which is CAL system active in VR field as well as on Elly, the operator, but no info.)))

Flowen leaves messages using Olga AI through the terminals you use to unlock the Central Control Area. (all terminals in the Seabed belong to Olga)

Calus enters the MOTHER vortex in expectation of being evolved with a true physical form to be with Elly.

Delta admits Dr. Osto abandoned her and the MOTHER system. (though the "abandonment" could have been due to a multitude of reasons with how full his hands were getting.)

I think this mostly wraps up the timeline covering entirely episodes 1&2

Extra stuff:

Flowen's full dialogue

MAG* - "A mag is a core of D-Cells surrounded by metal plating. The D-Cells are kept in control by an "Emotional AI". This means any mag is actually a cyborg of some sort, because they are a fusion of living and mechanical tissue. This is also why spraying them with various medical items causes them to change their shape so drastically.

"This is also why they can do the Photon Blast. The mag is able to absorb the energy from your photonic attacks on enemies, and also to absorb the pain from hits and turn it into photon. They had mags doing PBs on Coral, where the blasts did not take on a particular shape. The things you see in your PBs on Ragol look the way they do because the abnormal photon count, and D-cell count on Ragol is really high. The PB animals look like dark enemies, but with light color bodies. This is the influence of Ragol." - Translated from The Book of Hunters (Eleanor & Ult also carry D-cells)

Bioweapons - The bioweapons scientists of Pioneer 1 were making included using D-Cells, Parasitic Gene Flow, and living beings. This extended from animals, to plants, to even the scientists themselves in efforts of creating a "super solder". The reason behind this is because Falz is seen as an eternal entity, and that's what the scientists want to harness for themselves. Montague does a similar process, but instead using monster parts and photon energy from the mutated creatures, as oppose to mutated genes, to create weapons.

Links to information that helped me accumulate all this: phantasystardynasty PScave (I have dialogue with Flowen's text linked, if you want dialogue from another quest, just change the text between "script/" and ".html" to the quest of the dialogue you want to look out without spaces) Fandom Wiki (multiple pages from this one) This Tumblr post

#pso lore #FIXED THE READ MORE I'M NOT FIXNG ANY TYPOS tho because at first this post was too big to post and i'm not taking chances #lore #timeline

[plateauofmemories]

How I imagine the dynamic would be if Touchstarved was a comedy

Kuras: *Is exceptionally tall and has unnervingly bright golden eyes*

Kuras: *has white clothes that always stay totally clean no matter how bloody his work or how grimy his route through the city*

Kuras: *has a preternatural edge of command in in his voice at times*

Kuras: *brings partially-dismembered almost corpses to his clinic that later leave hale and re-membered*

Kuras, internally: I am doing such a good job at pretending to be a normal human person :3

The residents of Lowtown, who are receiving free medical care and have never heard of a single incidence of Kuras killing and eating a patient: haha, yep, there’s our good perfectly normal human doctor, Dr. Kuras! Love that completely normal guy!

Someone: But-

Residents of Lowtown, immediately turning on them: We’re so lucky to have such a wonderful and COMPLETELY ORDINARY doctor in this area!

Kuras, oblivious: Aww, thanks :3

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #I've just had the phrase 'he's not even eating any of the patients!' in my head for like. a week

[angelwheat]

The Mundane and the Magic

༻ a codz x reader story ༺

➶ Origins // ❝ Becoming One With Madness, A Chaos To Embrace ❞

➶ Chapter One , 1853 words

Clouds blackened the sky, stripping away the land of all its colour and life when a raging storm brewed overhead. Rainfall battered the land with vengeance, falling so heavily in a blink of an eye, appearing misty to see through when the raging winds swept in. Bolts of lightning blazed the sky, illuminating the grounds like a blinding strobe, as simultaneously, clashes of booming thunder rattled the wilting bunker walls.

The trenches, muddied and puddling with streams of water flowing through deep grooves of tank tracks, soaked the battlefield something dire. Each step taken would leave boots squelching and dripping in murky rainwater up to the ankles, trekking it over paths constructed of wooden planks, only for them to be engulfed in the sea of mud when vehicles rolled through.

A trio of enormous steel mechanisms, bodied as humanistic robots that stood as tall as skyscrapers, patrolled the treacherous lands in sync. The stalked in jagged ways. Their grappled hands swing by their sides, so cryptic as the embodied natural human motions. When its corrugated mechanical foot stomped its route, flattening anything that dared stand in its way, to trek over the crumbling bunkers, they had the power to provoke a sudden earthquake that could bounce items that lay on tabletops. When gazed upon from the ground view, the fearsome giants were truly a fright to behold.

Yet, one could question how a man could be so tame in the conditions he was surrounded by. Normally, a man would shudder in fear when he looked up to see a robot standing so tall that it’s helmet clad head was lost in the clouds. Nor could anyone averagely watch in wonder when soldiers fell right before their eyes, only to mutate into a ravaging creature with a dire need to devour flesh and bones.

No. Not him... Not Edward Richtofen.

A man best known for his divine intellect. He calls himself a man of medicine. A German scientist like no other. That was rightly true.

Working in the medical field had always been his lifelong destiny; his soul purpose only righteous of a path consisting of surgeons tools and test tubes. Since just a young boy, his interest lied in the study of the human body. Unlike the average teenage boy, Edward enrolled himself further in education constantly, later on expanding his interests in the scientific field, where he would learn and want to test the limitations of the human body.

Edward rightfully believed that his study of science and medicine would only prove to best histories discoveries. To which it had. But when he was approached by, what he unknowingly thought was a reputable source, and praised greatly for his intelligence by men of power, little did he know that he would fall under the command of men ranked high up in the German army.

Apparently his vast knowledge in the medical field, and unsolicited will to carry out experiments that would certainly be harrowing to the faint of heart, proved him to be the perfect candidate to conduct study when the Germans made the discovery of element 115 during the world war.

Despite working alongside and shadowing many elder scientists during his time spent in science labs, Edward grew fond of working with a man in particular, named Dr. Maxis. When he proved himself worthy, their compatibility was certified amicable from the very beginning. With their combined intellect, experiments ranged from making useful discoveries that would better aid the German army’s advantage at winning the war, to very abruptly, their somewhat reputable line of work took a twisted path southwards when they unleashed an atrocity; that was an army of ravaging undead soldiers. That was solely an experiment gone wrong.

At present time, Edward and Dr. Maxis are stationed in Northern France where they would continue to work and better their studies.

In a bunker, ruptured by the swarms of undead creatures tearing gaping holes from what were but only cracks and crevices, Edward stands before a tattered workbench.

His stare wavers from hand-to-hand, blankly looking through the bloodstains embedded into the creases on his palms. He gulps, tilting his head down to see the carcass of an elder man, his limbs roped to the table, an unruly rigid saw splattered with blood placed beside the man’s head that remained cleanly uncapped, his brain void in the rightful space it should be in the centre of his skull; instead preserved in a cylinder glass container nearby.

Dr. Maxis...

Had he committed a murder in cold blood? Had he just saved the decomposing state of the universe? Despite his blank expression, Edward’s mind rattled with questions. None of which he could answer himself. But whatever may be the correct question to ask, he believed that the preserving his co-worker’s brain was a righteous answer nonetheless.

Edward pressed his hands to the table and hunched, a juddered sigh slipping into the winter air creating a small cloud of mist. His eyes clamped shut when flashes of painful memory reminded him just how the man, now lying dead with his mouth agape and unhinged in front of him, thrashed and resisted Edward’s fight to revoke and rob him of the rest of his life.

“It’s all for the betterment of the universe.” Edward mentally assured himself, “The Kronorium said so.”

Ah, the Kronorium, Better known as a sick and twisted novel entailing details of threatened chaos and despair that will most certainly bestow upon the entire universe, written by god knows who.

For a book that seemed to magically appear on his workbench prior to the day he killed Dr. Maxis, Edward was eager to flip the leather cover and read it without questioning just where it came from. He was hooked the second he read the details of the first few pages, for it resonated with him in a strangely familiar sense when it told a back-story of a boy just like himself. That’s when he discovered that it wasn’t just a regular old fairytale novel. No...

It was a book that foretold the prophecies of the entire universe. A story that he alone must set in motion, no matter how catastrophic the consequences. Supposedly, alternate time-lines and dimensions that he would only theorise existed just like the one he was apart of presently. It taught him names of unfamiliar people. Others he had never met before in his life. Yet somehow they were associates in this story.  

Edward couldn’t be convinced that the book was realistic in what it preached. However, after stewing on what he had read, the story wasn’t sitting right with him if he just ignored it. It was oddly precise with commands and instructions, written in a way that would sound like a regular story book to anyone that would listen.

Edward felt compelled to endure every aspect scripted in that book, even if he didn’t rightfully agree. Almost like it was his calling to pursue such an honourable duty, to ensure the universe would remain in tact. After all, he had already committed to something so heinous.

Why stop now?

That’s how he ended up in the current situation with his co-scientist dead and decomposing before his eyes. Edward believed he was going mad, but he kept repeating a specific phrase.

“This is what you have to do.”

A familiar sound of routinely thundering footsteps emitted faintly from the distance. One from the trio of monstrous robots was making its typical patrol across the outskirts and soon through the battlefield. Each time it marched across the land, the route programmed for it to take would make sure it step directly on top of the bunker Richtofen stationed himself in. With each hourly patrol, the bunker was weakening and being burrowed under the crushing weight of the giant machine. The ceiling had already somewhat caved in and crumbled in the centre. It was certain that the rest was to collapse at any moment.

Yet Edward made no hasty attempt to get to a safer location before such an event occurs. Although, no where was safe. An undead army had overrun the land within minutes of exposure to element 115. He was outnumbered, for sure.

Part of him urged him to go down with the book in hand, to never let the chaos unroll by destroying it and himself simultaneously. On the contrary, his curiosity was his worst enemy. He wanted to know just how the story would pan out, but he questioned everything.

Will it all go to plan? Will it fuck up somewhere along the way?

With his eyes still closed, Edward breathed deeply, his shoulders rising and falling once he exhaled. Edward knew that book was just one workbench over from him, and all he could think about was reading the next chapter of cleverly told instructions.

A cluster of sounds hit his ears at once. Rustling of heavy gear shifting on a persons being as they moved in swift motions, to be precise. Footsteps stalked closer in an uneven pattern. The weighted sound of multiple pairs of boots crushing fallen blocks of concrete on the ground indicated that it was not a singular person in the room with him, and judging by the lack of hissing and groaning, it was certainly not a stray zombie clambering in to tear him apart.

His head remained bowed until the sound of movement ceased, and the click of a gun being cocked turned his attention up to meet a narrow barrel of a vintage pistol pointed directly between his eyes, held in the gloved hands of a brawny, dark haired foreign man on the opposite side of the table.

On either side of the man in the middle, stood another man. To the left, one clad in winter attire and a bullet proof vest, a hefty shotgun clutched in his hands. To the right, one welding a samurai sword, majestically in a defensive stance, his jet black hair slicked back in a neat bun.

The trio of narrow stares looked him up and down, each feeling uneasy with the horrifying sight they behold on the table, but each making an immediate conclusion that they had stumbled across the man they had each been sent for.

“You’re Doctor Richtofen, right?” The man in the middle spoke, his accent distinctively American. “I’m taking you out of here.”

Edward never shuddered. Never flinched. Nor felt a measly pang of fear when three foreign soldiers invaded his quarters with weapons cocked and raised, ready to fire at him if he so much as twitched.

A gun clicked behind the tall man in the middle. Edward noticed the two men standing either side had instantly averted their attention to an unfamiliar source, apparently right behind the American that he was confronted with.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

#tank dempsey #edward richtofen #nikolai belinski #takeo masaki #cod zombies #codz #call of duty zombies #call of duty #call of duty x reader #codz x reader

[andauril]

The thing about the whole Ascended!Astarion x PC dynamic is that HE is vastly more powerful than you, and I think that is what makes *me* personally predisposed to see this relationship as potentially unhealthy. As his consort, you are a vampire spawn, the same as Astarion was before the ascension. And vampire spawn whose masters are still alive are beholden to their master - physically incapable of disobeying their wishes or commands. The only reason that Astarion was able to shake off that compulsion is the tadpole running interference. The whole "bride" thing is fanon; it's not supported by the current edition of DnD 5e and it's not in the game. Ascended!Astarion has also no intention whatsoever of making you a true vampire (according to devnotes; he is lying when he tells the PC he'll make them a true vampire later). So, what we have here on paper is a power imbalance that is very heavily skewed in Astarion's favour. I suppose the only way to make this a truly equal relationship is to control the Elder Brain. I never played that ending so idk if the tadpole gets destroyed if you decide to become the Absolute, but if it stays in your head, it can run interference like Astarion's tadpole did between him and Cazador.

I'm not saying that the dynamic between the PC and Astarion is necessarily abusive or toxic, just that it has the potential due to a vampire lord's very real ability to overwrite the will of their spawn. There is really nothing in the game that suggests the player character is somehow a special kind of spawn whose will can't be overridden. When Astarion turns you into a vampire, you're still tadpoled, meaning he can't control you then. But he could if he wanted once the tadpole is gone.

That's what just makes me personally uncomfortable with the dynamic/romance IF you then go on and destroy the Elder Brain. I also think a scenario where you become an evil power couple controlling the Absolute together is very interesting, and it's especially compelling with Evil!Durge - Evil!Durge and Ascended!Astarion would make for one hell of a dangerous and fun evil couple (they would be pretty evenly matched in power as the Chosen of Bhaal and the Vampire Ascendant). TL;DR These are just my thoughts about the dynamic between an Ascended Astarion and his love interest, viewed from a lore perspective. I personally prefer the Spawn Route but I also do admit that the Ascended Route is narratively interesting and it is a fitting route for an evil playthrough. I do not mean to pick fights with people who prefer Ascended!Astarion for one reason or another. Please do not take this post as an attack. This is just the opinion of one person (me).

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3

[pikachugirltits]

Magic x Marvel: Idle Speculation

I have a lot of random thoughts about the upcoming Magic the Gathering x Marvel crossover, and I thought it would be neat to just ramble about them in a post, especially so I can hopefully find that post again later when the sets release and see how much I was right about. I'm just gonna bullet point this because this is kind of a stream of consciousness sort of deal:

We know that we're getting multiple "tentpole releases" a.k.a. more than one full set for this particular crossover. I'm thinking at least one is going to be a straight to Modern draftable set similar to the LotR set, but I don't think they're necessarily just doing that for all the sets. I speculate that the other (or one of the others if there's more than two) set is going to be a gimmick draft set, such as 2-Head Giant or Commander draft.

I personally am hoping one of the sets is a Commander draft set, and that our partner variant for the set goes the Stranger Things route and just creates a subset partner variant. I propose the name Team-Up, to represent the ubiquity of team up storylines in comic books. (I actually made an entire post about this but Tumblr's wonderful search function is choosing not to find it on my blog.)

Ooh, if they do go the Commander draft route they can make the Prismatic Piper equivalent a Skrull or something

I really, really want a Squirrel Girl card that makes squirrel tokens that I can jam into my Chatterfang deck. Squirrel Girl is my favorite superhero and I just want her on a card so, so badly.

I think it would be cool to have a Mjolnir equipment that in addition to its other effects also has a bit of trinket text along the lines of "equipped creature is a God in addition to its other types."

Thor and Loki and any other Asgardian that represents an actual god should have the creature type God. It already exists. Like sure, we could make Asgardian a creature type if we wanted to, but that's the coward's route.

I saw someone make a comment on Reddit about adding Hero and Villain as creature types, but I really, really hope that doesn't happen. It runs the risk of making the creature types in the set super repetitive, and we're already gonna see a lot of that from the sheer number of human characters. Sure, we'll have some mutants and aliens and robots to occasionally break things up, but it'll be much worse if the class types among cards aren't varied.

Like seriously, let's use the movie Avengers lineup. What's better...having four Human Hero cards, a God Hero, and whatever we do with the Hulk...or a Human Soldier, Human Scientist, Human Archer, Human Rogue, God Warrior, and whatever we do with the Hulk

Yeah, actually...what are we gonna do with the Hulk and related characters? In a vacuum, I would probably type the Hulk as Mutant Berserker...but for IP reasons I wouldn't be surprised if the Mutant creature type is reserved solely for characters with the X-Gene. I don't have an answer for this, just wondering...

Oh, and since I mentioned the MCU, I do want to say one thing, if they're smart they'll base the sets on the comics and not the MCU. Gives them a lot more material and characters to pull from

Booster fun treatment should lean into this and be comic book themed, but I think they would also be smart to offer some Secret Lair drops featuring alt art versions of the characters based on the MCU...if they're willing to deal with the likeness rights and whatnot.

Multiple tentpole releases does mean multiple commander precons. Some themes I could easily see them basing decks on: the Avengers, X-Men, Spider-Man/Spider-Verse, Guardians of the Galaxy+other space themed characters, a deck for a bunch of the more mystical Marvel characters probably led by Dr. Strange, S.H.I.E.L.D., A.I.M., Villains in general (from my memory Marvel doesn't really have a singular Legion of Doom type team up of its iconic villains, but I'm definitely picturing a Villains deck that tosses a bunch of iconic villains together in one deck...you could call it the Masters of Evil as a deep cut though.)

If Gambit gets a card, he should have an ability that lets you discard cards to deal damage to a target to represent Gambit throwing cards at his enemies. (This is the kind of wink at the camera stuff I love in UB products.)

Koi Boy should get a card purely because he's a canon trans man and Magic really needs some trans masc representation.

#lexi rambles on #magic the gathering #Universes Beyond: Marvel #Magic Set Speculation #saving this for later

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 112 - Search and Extraction

Star Trek: Discovery - Season 2 Episode 1 - Brother

On to Season 2! When last we left off, Discovery had just answered a distress call from the Enterprise! Still Captained by Christopher Pike from the Original Series Pilot.

We open with a retelling of the story from the first Short Trek I watched before season 1, followed by a new flashback to Michael's adoption by Sarek, and we also get to see her meet Spock as a child for the first time as a child.

It feels really weird to have the entire crew of Discovery just be in awe at the Enterprise when by all means the Discovery's experimental tech should make it the impressive ship. I know the Enterprise, this specific Enterprise, is like behind the scenes important, it is the Original Series ship, but I guess I was under the impression that in-universe Enterprise is just a normal ship, tech-wise.

A small team from Enterprise beam aboard Discovery, including Pike himself, and it appears they're here to take command of Discovery under some sort of emergency regulation. Michael was expecting Spock to be the Science officer who beamed aboard, but it's some other guy.

Pike here seems a lot more upbeat than he did in The Cage, but I'm here for it. I like that he takes the time to learn the Discovery Crew's names, and also takes time to listen to his crew's suggestions. Pike's mission is to investigate some unknown signals, but Enterprise's systems failed for unknown reasons en-route.

We get to catch up with are own crew for a while, and my heart is going out for Paul Stamets, and his absolute grief for Dr Culber. Apparently, he's been offered a teaching position at the Vulcan Academy, which means we'll be without an engineer for a while. It also seems like all the Spore Drive tech has been shut down, which is sad, they set up a lot of possibilities with it. I suppose a scientific block ops research ship doesn't have much purpose without the war though, so it makes sense.

Discovery arrives at the signal's coordinates, and some weird happenings are occurring. There is a huge gravity well, a huge asteroid field, and in the middle of it: A Starfleet ship, a medical ship that was supposed to have been destroyed in the war. Also, apparently the remaining spores have been reacting weird near the signal position.

The small enterprise squad are joined by Michael as they go down to investigate the ship's wreckage. The team's flight through the asteroid field was a pretty fun sequence. Unfortunately Pike's Non-Spock Science Officer doesn't make it to the wreckage, Michael and the Captain do manage to touch down even if Pike's pod isn't in one piece.

On the asteroid's surface, the ground crew find a set of small drones in the ship's wreckage. The drones lead the trio to their creator. She's an engineer who's been keeping the wreckage of the medical ship barely functional, and apparently isn't aware that the war is over. From here, the episode becomes an extraction mission for this engineer and her patients.

Unfortunately during the extraction, Discovery starts to take damage from the Asteroids, but the patients and most of the ground crew do manage to get transported out safely. Michael is initially left behind, and winds up impaled through the leg during the escape, but she very very briefly catches sight of a red shadowy figure, presumably related to the anomalous signal, before she's pulled out by discovery.

This episode was a fun season opener, a relatively unimportant side mission, but it established a fun new mystery around the 7 mysterious signals, and I'm glad the series seems to be taking on a tone more akin to Enterprise season 1, 2 and 4, now that the Klingon War is over. Pike was great, not particularly stand out, but it's nice to have a more standard captain around after both Lorca and Emperor Georgiou's brief command of the ship. I'm looking forward to this season, and I'm happy Pike seems to be sticking around to help train up Saru into a more Captain like role.

#whovian watching star trek #star trek #star trek Discovery #Star Trek DIS #Star Trek DISCO #ST DIS #ST DISCO #DIS #st: disco #DISCO #st: discovery #Discovery #ST: DIS

[arcielee]

Dancing in the Dark

Tom Bennett x OFC Summary: War is spilling over Europe and a route is being created to help POWs escape occupied France. Sometimes love does not last forever, but lasts long enough. Warnings: Smut/NSFW later on, some misogyny cause it’s the 1940s

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 - ende

Chapter 3

Dr. Webster O’Connor made sure to donate blood every fifty-six days, without fail, since his arrival to the hospital one year prior. He knew his O-negative blood type was imperative and shortages were now rampant across Europe with the Blitzkrieg. He tried to coax Bennett, but his words of duty and honor were all but ignored until the promise of a cookie enticed him, since all sweets were rationed for those who donated. 

Tom had been relocated to a back room where the occupants were mostly amputees recovering, a luxury as it was considered to be the silent wing of the busy hospital. They were laid up in the beds, waiting for the nurse on duty to arrive. 

Webster noticed Tom’s cheeky grin and how Vera ignored his expression, how his eyes washed over her and the blush in her pale features responded to his steady gaze. She then looked at him and her eyebrow lifted. “Is this where your business will be held?” Her tone was dry, as always. 

“Miss Vera,” Webster replied with good humor. “My ears may be failing me, but I swear you just teased me.” 

She rolled her eyes, suppressing her smile, and grabbed for some cotton swabs and alcohol. “I feel I must repeat myself with you, but I find your humor…” she faltered for the word. “Eigenartig.”

“Ah,” he kept his smile. “Peculiar.”

“Teaching the kraut English?” She froze as she remembered Tom in the bed behind her. He wore clean, knitted long johns and a shirt, with his blonde locks tousled and his perpetual smirk on his lips. “Does your charity know no end, Webster?”  

He closed his eyes, his voice annoyed. “Sit and be quiet, Tom. Let the good nurse do her job.” 

Vera grit her teeth as she finished taping down the needle in the doctor’s arm, checking the line so the blood would not clot. She then turned to face him, his face aglow with her undivided attention and wearing a confident grin. “Move over,” her voice commanded, knowing all too well that a polite ask would get her nowhere with him. 

His grin spread, showing the dimpled lines of his cheeks. “Yes, missus,” his eyes glinted as he shifted over and allowed her to sit close. He extended his arm across her lap, her hands cool to touch as she found a vein and then she reached for a new cotton swab. She could feel him peering at her, noticing his grin fading. “That cunt did a number on you,” he mussed, his eyes now looking over the damage to the left side of her face. “No honor amongst Nazis.” 

Webster was alert to his words. “Wait, you saw who did this to her?” 

“She managed it without fuss, though,” Tom continued, with a hint of admiration. “Not a tear from this one and then she threw back whatever German nonsense, making them turn tail and run off.” 

“It is done and over,” was all she could manage, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she prodded to find a vein. She avoided his eyes, finding his intense look made her heart flutter in her chest and she needed her focus to be on the needle in her hand. “There will be a prick-” and she was quick to find the vein, reaching for the medical tape. “I will be back,” she promised, standing up and taking care to move his arm.

“I’ll be waiting,” his fixed stare almost unnerved her, keeping the color to her cheeks when he added, “I’ll even share my cookie with you,” his smile sly. 

Vera excused herself and left the room, her hands rubbing her cheeks as she walked away from them. Tom cocked his head, watching as she exited. “Does she ever smile?” He broke his eyes away and looked at Webster, who was watching him with his eyebrow raised. “I feel like I am getting hints of it sometimes…” 

“I see you aren’t as adamant about leaving as you were before.”

Tom sneered, “Naw, I am grabbing this cookie and leaving when it’s done. Though, I might linger if she wants to share it with me-”

“What are you gonna do without help?” He interrupted, ignoring his comment. “Everyone is now a prisoner of war and you think you can, what? Have a cookie and walk out the door?” 

“I’ll think of something,” Tom looked forward, pursing his lips. 

“But what if I could help you?” When Webster saw he caught his interest, he leaned towards him and lowered his voice. “But this will need to be done quick and you must do as you are told, because if we can get this figured out, well, it wouldn’t be just you we can save.” 

His jaw clenched for a moment. “Alright, alright,” Tom watched as his blood snaked through and dripped into the glass bottle. “What do you need from me, then?” 

In another part of the hospital, Vera busied herself with menial tasks, desperate to find anything so she could forget the piercing eyes of Bennett. She jumped at the soft tap to her shoulder and turned to see Henriette. “The linen?” She asked her, her voice soft. Vera paused at the bed she was making and then said, “I am preparing for any more that may come.”

Henriette hummed in response, a small smile to her face as she stepped to the other side, helping tuck the sheets in the corners. “I believe Webster may have found someone who is willing,” her voice was still soft, for her ears alone. “You will need to leave us soon,” Vera watched her as she spoke. “Tonight, you should prepare a bag with the understanding that you will not return.” 

She stared at the bed, her jaw tight with the instructions. “Yes,” she said, her voice thin, and then she looked up at Henriette. “You will stay here?” 

Henriette nodded. “I will stay and I will help Webster, but you must go. Major Lieber will be in tomorrow,” she hesitated. “You should come in for the later shift, through the back entrance where the ambulances come. Webster will have everything together and will know more as to where you will meet with Lyam.” 

“Henriette?”

She looked at Vera and saw her struggle to find the words that sat behind her glassy green eyes. Henriette reached for her hand to give a gentle squeeze and they remained quiet as they finished making the bed. 

-----

“Bennett,” Vera said, staring at the doctor. 

“Yes,” he nodded, looking through his desk. “He has agreed to accompany you and see if there is a legitimate route we can set up–”

“No one else, only him?” She asked, cutting through his words. 

Dr. O’Connor cleared his throat. “Well, yes. He was very passionate about leaving a few weeks back and I thought he would be the best to ask.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Very well,” she began. “I do not believe you, Webster, but we are now out of time.” She reached into her purse to retrieve a small, leather bound journal and grabbed a pen from his desk. “So, what am I to do?”

He repeated what Henriette told her earlier, only advising to pack for a very long walk. Vera felt her throat tighten as she listened and noted his instructions, realizing she would miss the obnoxious American, but she trusted that if they were successful, she would not lose touch. 

That night, Vera entered the small room she was renting from a sweet, older couple. She did not have a lot that she brought to Paris and would pack even less in her knapsack: her papers, the valid and the forge, extra socks with a change of clothes, a locket with a picture of her folks, and a few books she considered her comfort reads. 

She then pulled up a loose floorboard to retrieve a cigar box where she had been storing a combination of currencies, both British and franc. She set aside her rent, along with a letter penned to explain her sudden departure to her landlords, and then tucked the rest into her bag. 

Morning finally came after a fitful night; Vera climbed down the stairs and visited with the couple, who of course invited her in for a small breakfast, engaging with their smiles and polite conversation. She was careful to drop that she would be working late at the hospital, to prolong them noticing her sudden disappearance. In the early evening, she dressed into her nursing uniform once more and tucked her boots into her lunch tin to carry inconspicuously with her knapsack.

She made her familiar walk towards the hospital, taking in the vision of Paris with her steps. A sadness washed over as she saw the wave of red banners to showcase the Third Reich’s takeover of the city. It was a somber scene, as she saw the Frenchmen and women walking and trying their best to ignore the bolts of red fabric that flapped in the breeze.

She grieved for the city as her steps brought her around to the back entrance and she slipped into the hospital, spotting Jacques ahead and standing in front of a door. When he spotted her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the supply room. “Webster gave me these to give to him, but I cannot deal with him anymore,” his dark eyes flashed with anger.  “I pity your journey, il est tellement agaçant.” 

He is so annoying.

She sighed as he placed the clothes into her arms and opened the door for her. She looked to see Bennett standing in his briefs and white tank top, unaffected by her stare; he was not embarrassed and his lips curled upwards. “Oh, love, I was just getting ready to see you,” his tone cheeky. 

Vera grew red and walked towards him, pressing the clothes against his hard chest. “Change quickly,” she said. “We must hurry.” “What the fuck do call this outfit?” He scoffed, holding out the clothes. “This your revenge?” “This is what is available,” she hissed, setting down her bag and she began to unbutton her uniform. 

He noticed immediately. “How does this work that as I dress, you undress?”

She did not answer and refused to make eye contact, her fingers fumbling to remove her dress. His eyes were unabashed as they washed over her figure in a slip, admiring the soft silk against her ivory skin. Her uniform slipped from her grasp and he was quick to bend down and pick it up for her, holding onto still even after her fingers grasped the fabric. 

“I will take that,” she said, breaking the moment and folding the dress. 

Vera turned to pull her change of clothes and she felt him press closer, but he did not touch her; his presence was enough to elicit another deep blush that rolled from her cheeks, to her neck and chest. “Do not forget the coat,” she said without facing him. “It will be chilly.” 

She could hear him move and the bustle of fabric as he began to dress. “Coat’s fine and all, but won’t you’ll be there to keep me warm?”

Vera grit her teeth, “Bennett–”

“It’s Tom.”

She turned to face him, fastening the last button of her plain blouse, and saw him watching her. The pants were a size too big and hung at his narrow waist, his shirt a mint green that he had yet to button up; she saw his defined chest peeking beneath the white tank he wore. Tom watched her for a reaction, waiting for her to acknowledge what he said, while Vera struggled to find her tongue. 

“I am not kraut,” she finally spoke. “My name is Vera.”

His signature grin returned. “It’s a very lovely name.” 

She focused to pull her knitted skirt on, her hand reaching behind to fasten it and she heard him step forward. “May I?” He leaned forward to peer at her and she gave a small nod. His breath tickled the back of her neck and shoulders as his hands pinched the top and he was slow to bring up the zipper. When he was done, she turned to face him and saw his brow scrunch with the same concern, bringing his hand to gently touch her chin. “The bruising has gotten darker. Do you have any powder?” 

Her head tilted at his question and he gave a short laugh. “Before you thinking me a puff, I have a sister,” he explained. “I know things.” 

“I do not have any makeup left,” she confessed.

“Makes sense,” his grin returned. “Pretty girls like you don’t require much, do they?”  He seemed pleased with the new shade of red to her cheeks. Tom clipped his suspenders to his pants and gave a slight grimace when he pulled the one up his left shoulder. “All right, what’s the plan, Vera?” 

She grabbed her knapsack and pulled the sleeve of his coat to follow her. They made a roundabout way towards the main lobby and began to descend the staircase. Ahead, she spotted Lyam with his same cheerful disposition and still using the cane. “Did you not heal?” She blurted and he laughed.

“Miss Vera, your demeanor remains the same,” he smiled beneath his silver beard, his eyes looking over them both. “The cane has them assuming I am no threat, so I have chosen to keep this accessory.” He then reached into his pea coat to retrieve two gold bands and held them, palm up. “Webster mentioned it was a couple, so we will use this to avoid bringing any attention to us as we move. Put these on.” 

She looked skeptical. “What plan is this?” 

Lyam tsked and his ice blue eyes sparkled. “Where is your sense? Act like lovers, it will make it less likely to attract any unwanted attention.”

Tom raised an eyebrow as he slipped on his band, taking the other one and reaching for her hand. “May I, Mrs. Bennett?” His tone teased Vera.

“Tom Bennett is dead,” her reply was dry, earning another good natured chuckle from Lyam.

“Only by name, but you’re my missus either way,” Tom slipped the ring onto her finger and when she tried to pull back, he held his grip and brought her knuckles to his lips. 

She choked on a response and Lyam smiled with his words, “I see why you refused to leave the hospital.” And he continued before she could correct him. “Right now, I am your father-in-law and you two will play husband and wife. We will make our way through the city and stop in Massy for the rest of the night, continuing early the next day.” “On foot?” Tom asked.

“We have no other option,” he tapped his cane. “You’re young, you’ll be fine.”

Lyam pushed open the door and the evening crisp air breezed through; he stepped to walk out on the cobblestone streets that line Paris. “C’mon,” Tom said to her, holding his palm out. “You heard the man.” 

Her fingers curled around his own and she liked the warmth of his palm. His arm stiffened to bring her closer to his side, turning his head to whisper in her ear, “I won’t bite you,” and with a devilish grin added, “unless you be wanting me too.”

“Tom–” her tone was warning, but she could not hide her smile in time.

He had missed it, his eyes focused on what was ahead of them. “No, love,” he reached to touch the back of her head, tucking her face into the nape of his neck and placed a phantom kiss on her cheek. 

She could smell the soap on his skin and how it complimented his natural musk, but the sound of booted footsteps pulled her away. She shifted her focus on the idle conversation being held by the passing soldiers, relieved to know they had not been noticed. “I didn’t want them thinking I did this to you,” he said in her ear before she pulled back. Vera peered at him and he gestured to her jawline. 

She shook her head. “You would not do that,” she said with a factual tone and he looked at her. “Unless I be wanting you too.” She finished, mocking his accent.

A grin spread until the dimples peaked on his cheeks. “You know, Vera, you are actually funny.”

She smirked and kept with his pace, ignoring the soft chuckle of Lyam ahead of them. They were fortunate to not cross any more soldiers, but she held onto his hand, lacing her fingers between his own and he ran his thumb along the back of her hand as they walked. Lyam guided them to avoid major streets and which allowed them to enjoy the dusk that rolled over the quieter parts of Paris, the man made lights flickering on to give the city a warm glow. 

Their steps led them to a residence where a smiling woman answered and gave a kiss to Lyam. She welcomed them inside, her exchange only in French, and Lyam turned to them to translate. “Your room is down the hall, to the left and the toilette across from it,” he smiled at them. “Sleep well, for tomorrow is a big walk,” and he gave them a time to meet for breakfast. 

The room was plain, but cozy, and Vera noticed right away that there was just the one bed, along with a dresser and a small vanity with a velvet stool tucked beneath. She felt Tom lean onto her shoulder. “This works since we’re married and all.” She looked at him to see his same cheeky smile splayed on his face.

“You can clean up first,” she said, stepping inside the room and setting her knapsack down on the bed. 

He stepped backwards, his hands grabbed onto the doorframe and he leaned forward to offer, “Sure you don’t wish to join me?” He was quick to duck out as she grabbed and chucked a decorative pillow from the bed towards him, but he had already closed the door.

He is insufferable, she thought, her cheeks still red from his invitation. He is arrogant and cocky… but he was willing to attempt this route and give hope for the other prisoners in the hospital beds. Her mind fluttered to his gentle touch from when he tucked her into his shoulder and his words, I didn’t want them thinking I did this to you. Despite his arrogance, he had moments of genuine kindness, as opposed to his usual bravado. 

With a sigh, she stepped towards the vanity and began to remove the few pins for her hair, allowing her dark curls to spill on her shoulders. She wondered if the doctor had pushed Tom to agree to this, as part of his American humor.  It does not matter why he came along, she decided. Vera knew she must remain focused on the task at hand, something she would repeat as many times as she was able. 

“It’s all yours, love.” 

Vera turned to see him shirtless and towel drying his locks, a slight curl to the usual wave. She pressed her clean undergarments to her chest and walked past him, closing the door and seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her complexion flushed yet again. 

She was quick to shower and was standing in the small bathroom wearing just her undergarments. She had not thought to bring a nightdress along and, for a moment, debated to walk back into the room and grab her silk slip. He would still see you, she thought. Does war really demand modesty? With an exhale, she pushed the door open and was relieved to see him lying on the bed, already asleep.   

Her bare feet padded the hardwood floors as she crept to put away her items and reached to retrieve her journal, hunched over the dresser to notate the route taken. She then took care to lower herself onto the mattress; the bedframe creaked but he slept soundly, his damp locks clinging to his forehead. She laid on her side to face him, her arm curled beneath her head, and watched Tom as he slept, his steady breathing lulling her to sleep. 

It felt like her eyes were closed for a moment when she felt a slight jerk. The room was much darker, but the moonlight poured through the windows to highlight the room; she looked to see Tom, his fists balled at his sides and his jaw clenched, ticking as the muscles jumped, with beads of sweat on his forehead. 

A night terror, she realized and pushed herself up, reaching to lay her hand on his chest, her other hand gentle to touch his grip. “Tom, Tom,” her voice was soft, repeating his name. “Tom, wake up, you are okay.” She was able to bring his palm to rest on her chest, her other hand feeling his accelerated heart rate.  

With a sharp exhale, his eyes opened wide, flitting around to see her hand pressed to his heart and noticing she held onto his other hand; under his palm, he could feel her heart fluttering with her deep breaths. “W-what,” he struggled for the word. 

Her voice was kind. “You had a nightmare.” 

He looked pale, but forced a performative smirk. “Christ,” he began, trying to steady his tone. “I am becoming crazy like my dad.”

“Did he serve?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “In the last ‘great war.’ Now he’s a pacifist, rallying men to see the error of violent resolutions.” 

“It’s okay–” she tried, but he ripped his hand from her hold.

“I’m not looking for pity,” his eyes darkened.

“I was not implying that you were,” Vera returned. “My dad had night terrors that would wake up the household. Sometimes my mutter would try and wake him, but she…” she stopped, unwilling to bring to light the fault within her own family. “I found he responded well to his name being repeated and me holding his hand. I had thought… you needed to feel something real?”

“Like a heartbeat?” He asked, his brow raised.

It sounded stupid spoken out loud, so she remained quiet. 

He pushed himself up, resting his back against the headboard and his free hand raked through his locks. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “I… sometimes have dreams that I am back onboard the Exeter, but I am not as lucky as I had been originally.” 

“He was the same,” Vera said, pushing to cross her legs beneath her. “He called it ‘survivor’s guilt’ but he carried it with him everywhere.” She paused. “How are you feeling now? I could go get you some water–”

His hand reached to grasp onto her forearm, keeping her from leaving the mattress. “I would prefer it if you stayed,” his eyes only then roamed and noticed what she was wearing, their realization simultaneous. “Missus, you can hardly just leave dressed like this anyway-” 

“I would have put on clothes!” She snapped, trying to pull away. “Forgive my ill planning and forgetting mein nachthemd.”

“Don’t regress to the Motherland tongue just cause you’re embarrassed,” he grinned in return. “But go ahead and stand, so I can appreciate the view more.” 

Her face burned and instead she pulled at the sheets to crawl back underneath, the billow from her exaggerated coverup blocked her view of him, but when the sheet settled around her form, Tom shifted on his side and his hand reached to touch her jaw. “Tom, what are you–” and he closed the space, allowing his mouth to find hers and cut off her question with his gentle kiss.

His lips were warm and Tom took his time, his fingers curled into her hair and gripped the back of her neck, pressing his body on top of her own. Her hands touched his chest, his other hand gripped the soft flesh of her hip as he opened his mouth to deepen their kiss.

She was breathless as he moved to her jaw, kissing her neck, goosebumps rippling over her body from his touch. “Tom,” she gasped for breath. “Wait, what is happening?” “I don’t know what you call it, but we call it a kiss,” he replied with a devilish grin, nuzzling into her neck. “You were helping me feel something real…” 

“No, I did not mean for-” 

Tom stopped all together, sensing her sudden hesitation. “Christ, I would never force myself on anyone,” and he fell back into his pillow, his arm up and under his head. “What happened? Were you raped?” 

She pulled away, creating space between them. “You… have a foul mouth,” she snapped and he only shrugged in agreement. Vera fell back to the pillow and rolled to face away, curling beneath the sheets and shutting her eyes to sleep. 

----

previous | Chapter 4

#tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #we need more tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #ao3 #thanks for reading #fanfiction #♥ #dancing in the dark

[mxanigel]

7 snippets, 7 people

Thank you for the tags @outpost51 @nowandthane <3 <3 <3

No-pressure tagging @poetikat @arendaes @captastra @dr-paine @spindleweedss @marythegizka @seraandthebees (if you've done this and I missed it, I apologize! please feel free to send me the post so I can flail over your words).

I went through Shion's longfic (Cut to the Feeling) for Hange and Shion moments that don't require much in-universe knowledge for context, which ended up being a surprisingly reassuring exercise. I adore these two together.

-----

The woman points over her shoulder with her thumb. “Commander Erwin and Captain Hange are that way if you want to hear more. If they’re willing to talk about it.”

It sounds worse than she feared. But Hange’s alive. She pats Salt’s neck and then rushes as quickly as her weary legs will carry her in the direction the scout indicated. En route, her eyes frantically dart from face to face. No one looks victorious. At best, they’re tired. At worst, they look like they survived hell. A small crowd gathers around the med wagon, awaiting treatment. None of them are members of her squad.

When a familiar and thankfully unbandaged profile comes into view, Shion can’t resist calling out her friend’s name. “Hange!”

The captain spins around, joyful surprise covering their face. “Shion?!” They sweep her into a crushing hug. “You’re alive! When your squad came back without you, I feared the worst.”

-----

Once her mother is out of sight, Shion’s knees buckle.

“Whoa!” Hange catches her in a reassuringly tight embrace. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh-Why are you apologizing?”

“You saw her because of me.”

“I think you were the excuse, not the reason.” She buries her face in her friend’s shoulder. “I’m really glad you were here.”

“Me, too.” They gently stroke her hair. “Your mother’s a bitch.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck what she said. I want you at my side, Shion.” Hange kisses her forehead.

-----

“I’d like to remain on duty here, if you’ll allow it,” Shion murmurs.

The commander’s gaze bores into her before he nods. “Watch for Titans. Support the medics as best you can. And await our return.”

“Yes, sir.” She maneuvers Hange back into a resting position. “That was reckless.”

“It was important.”

“So is your recovery. Don’t you dare pull a Levi on me. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Hange tentatively touches their burned cheek. “Salve? Did you treat me?”

“Of course I did.”

“Thanks.” They grip her hand. “Things keep getting worse.”

“Rest now. We’ll deal with the mess later.”

Hange’s eyes drift shut. “Mind staying next to me... just for a moment?”

“I’m here for you,” she promises.

-----

Shion wrinkles her nose. “You’ve been chatty for someone who’s in the hospital.”

“Lying here is boring! It’s nice to have visitors break up the monotony.”

“True.” She knows that monotony, that loneliness, all too well. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, though not great.” They grimace. “I heard Erwin lost his right arm.”

“… Yeah. Did Jonas tell you what happened?”

“As much as he was willing to. We took back Eren, but too many died. And a lot of us are recuperating right now.” Hange takes Shion’s hand. “Thanks for taking care of me. My injuries are, uh, kind of extensive. I’ll stay put for a few days, make sure I heal right. As you said, my recovery is important.”

She manages a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’ll pull rank and order you to rest, if I have to.”

“I slept in today!”

“After a long mission and staying up all night. I’ve already asked Levi to make sure you sleep.”

Blood drains from Shion’s cheeks. “If he tries to dose me with sleeping medicine—”

“—then you’ll deserve it.”

She sighs. “I promise I’ll prioritize sleep.”

-----

Shion hangs back as the rest of them disperse to their tasks, Levi’s squad following him as he snaps orders. Once they’re alone, she rests a hand on Hange’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“I hate this. I hate all of this. But we must do something, something proactive. Just reacting to what’s been thrown at us will get us nowhere.” Hange groans. “Handle the medical kits for me? They’re too essential to abandon. And we need this place to look like we planned to leave.”

“Right. Leave it to me.” She swallows. “About Levi—”

“He’ll be fine. His new squad won’t hold him back. You’ve seen that, too. Haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“I don’t like it.” Hange slumps against her. “But I’m doing the best I can.”

Shion strokes their hair. “I know, I know. I’m sorry I can’t do more to help. That sometimes I’m even making it harder.”

“No. I need someone to make me defend my choices. Might help me see holes I wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Captain—” Moblit cuts himself off as he sticks his head back into the room. “Uh, when you have a moment…”

They straighten. “Yeah. I’m on my way.”

-----

She drags her fingers down her face. “What we did was wrong.”

“It was. And I’m sorry. For losing control. For making you participate in all of this.”

“I could have refused. I didn’t.”

“You aren’t blaming your actions on following orders?”

“No. I have to own those actions. Forever.”

Hange sighs heavily. “Do you hate me now?”

Shion swallows. “I don’t hate you. I’m trying not to hate anyone. Including myself. Hate just makes everything worse.” Her shoulders slump. “But hatred is hard, so hard to avoid.”

“That’s… damned impressive. I don’t have that kind of strength.”

“This isn’t strength.” She barks a laugh. “It’s desperation. Or something.”

“To you, maybe. To me, you look strong.” Their tone is hauntingly, achingly genuine.

She impulsively kisses her friend’s forehead. “Then you should use my strength when you need it.”

Something new shines in Hange’s eyes. “From now on, I will.”

-----

Hange suddenly embraces her. “I’m so fucking happy that you’re still alive. You’re a damned good soldier, but more importantly, I don’t want to think about what I’d do without you.”

Energy drains from Shion’s limbs. She buries her face in Hange’s neck, unable to speak. A familiar acrid scent reveals they’re overdue for a bath—she is too—but in this moment, she couldn’t care less.

“You’re exhausted.” They stroke her hair. “You told me to use your strength when I need it. The same goes for you. Hell, I’ll carry you through these woods if I have to.”

She straightens with a grimace. “I can still walk!”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” She can’t stop a smile. “Thanks, Hange. I appreciate you more than I can say.”

“Is that so?” They waggle their eyebrows. “I’ll remind you of this the next time I exasperate you.”

“Oi, please don’t exasperate me on purpose.”

#aot fanfic #OC: Shion Miller #Hange Zoë #OT3: what we have is each other #tag games

[lunarcrystal]

I sketched these OC's back during the quarantine days, they were originally for a scrapped Hellsing fanfic draft. I decided to color, and flesh them out a bit more. They're the fraternal twins of Alucard & Integra, so essentially dhampirs, but I made them based off Gonzo's version cuz' there's a lot more in that world to work off of. Background info of the Hellsing Siblings down below. ↓

Asha Mary-Elizabeth Van Hellsing                                  Born 12:01AM, 12/31/1999

Chronological Age: 22 | Biological Age: 20

Height: 5′10 | Weight: 152lbs

Asha is one of the Captains of the Hellsing Special Paramilitary Forces. She's served under the Commander, Seras Victoria, for five years. As a Captain, Asha devises strategies for quick extermination & seeks potential escape routes for the injured. She is in charge of leading her squad through the ghoul infested areas of England during nightfall. Though she has never fought a true born vampire on her own, as Victoria or the servant is often sent to deal with that matter. Asha possesses a great deal of strength and agility, she consumes 1 pint of blood daily. But too much exposure to sunlight will cause her fatigue. Outside of Captain duty, Asha is quite shy and reclusive, she gets anxious in social settings unrelated to her job. She finds comfort in solitude, noisy music and exercise. Her soldiers respect her, but find her demeanor gloomy. She is often called the fun-sucker by her brother for how she refuses to engage in anything he deems ‘fun’. At times Asha gets uncharacteristic outbursts when angered, much like her mother, the cause of many arguments. As a teenager, Asha had wished to enlist into the British Armed Forces, as many of Hellsing's soldiers all had prior training there; though she was refused due to her nature, and her mother’s opposition. She often feels inadequate to her peers even as a Captain, and especially so as a halfling. Asha likes to fence in her down time, she is exceptional at it, only ever beaten by her mother. She believes she might’ve been knighted, had the Hellsing Organization not been abandoned by the Queen 22 years ago.

━

Abraham Michael Van Hellsing II                                      Born 11:50PM, 12/30/1999

Chronological Age: 22 | Biological Age: 22

Height: 6′2 | Weight: 170lbs

Abraham, the older brother of Asha by eleven minutes, works as an assistant Phlebotomist in the daytime, and Hellsings underground medic at night. He is currently studying for his PhD in Haematology at a local university in London, under strict surveillance. Abraham had trained under the former house physician, Dr Trevelyan. He took over as Hellsing's residential healthcare worker after Trevelyan resigned. Abraham does feed on blood, though he does not need to consume it daily; nor does sunlight seem to affect him much. While he is stronger than an average human, he is unfortunately unmatched by the vampiric strength of his sister. He accepts that he is the physically weaker twin, but he simply does not care enough for combat training or weapons, much to his mother’s dismay. His intelligence and desire to experiment with the biology of the supernatural mirrors his great grand father. Abraham is an eccentric lad, his humor is often mocking, especially to friends and family. Since his childhood he's been interested in the hypnotic nature of vampires, and has performed hypnotherapy tests on rodents and small animals to strengthen that ability, though his mother restricts him from using his power on humans. He believes he is capable of making miracles happen, such as curing vampirism without the need of scoping out the master vampire, or recreating the late Abraham Van Helsing's life-threatening blood transfusion performed on Lucy Westenra. Abraham finds the quirks of being a Phlebotomist useful for vampiric purposes as well.

#hellsing #2001 hellsing #original characters #character design #alucard #integra hellsing #alutegra #fankids #asha hellsing #abe hellsing #hellsing siblings #mydoodles #here are my gen z fankids/adults w/e- idk if im gonna use them MUCH but I had fun creating them!