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pedros-immaculate-vibes · 6 months

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A Peaceful Elf

Part III

Halsin/Tav fanfic (slow burn, fluff, angst)

Zzar, Daggerford Clarry, ale. Well, that’s certainly something. You looked in your bag at the bottles you and your band of merry adventurers had stolen from the goblins who would no longer be needing them. “Hey, soldier, think we have enough libations in your bag, or can we fit more?”

The swarthy tiefling gave you a shameless grin. “I’ll have you know I’m carrying my weight in dandy drinks and a lady never says her weight, but trust me, it’s a FUCK of a lot!” She threw her head back and her hair whipped around as wildly as the flames in her chest. “We won’t remember tonight if it bit us in the arse! No offense, fangs!” She elbowed Astarion.

“Mmm, none taken,” he mumbled, although he clearly didn’t appreciate being touched. “Any chance there’s a bottle in there that isn’t absolute swill? I do have standards, you know.”

“Ale’s ale, mate. You can have a go at it when we get back to camp, but I’m sure you’ll find something worthwhile,” Karlach winked down at him, flirting the way only a gregarious soul could with Astarion. You weren’t sure, but you could have sworn you saw the vampire blush the slightest bit as he changed the subject and looked away into the woods. Did Vampires blush?

“Any idea who’s going to this, ugh, debaucherous debacle tonight? I like to know who’s on the list for things like this.”

“Only the who’s-who of the grove, which is to say, probably everyone you’ve talked to,” chimed Gale, who seemed in very high spirits himself. He had found a few scrolls and a tome in a hidden chest beneath some rubble. It was like watching a cat who caught a canary saunter through the woods.

“I’m sure tonight will meet your expectations, Astarion, in the best possible way,” Wyll smiled back at him, a satchel brimming with food on his back. “Will this be the first time you’ll be getting a hero’s welcome? I can promise you, that feeling stays in your heart forever; like a candle on a cold evening,” he beamed. The smile turned a shade wry as the moment passed.

“I’m sure you’ve had many such welcomes, Wyll, and countless more to come,” you put a hand on his shoulder, determined to make him forget his recent misfortune. His sacrifice had gained them Karlach, after all. He deserved every spot of happiness you could afford. Wyll nodded gratefully to you and looked back at the trail, smiling a bit easier.

“Oh! So I’m assuming that druid elf will be there, what was his name? Has-been? I wonder what kind of standards he has… in regards to libations, of course,” schemed Astarion as he glanced sideways at you.

You sighed.

A few miles ahead, when you and he were at the back of the group, Astarion tripped over a few conveniently placed vines.

***

The druids had already stopped the ritual a few days before you were able to save Halsin; after you revealed the correspondence between Kagha and the Shadow Druids found in a disconcertingly serene wetland, the interim Arch Druid came to her senses and helped you purge the grove of their influence. With that, tension eased and the tieflings breathed easier. Now that Halsin had returned, everything was about as idyllic as possible, given the circumstances.

Your pride warmed you as a breeze flitted over the lake near the camp. Staring out over it for a brief moment more, you turned to Wyll, handed him the best of the food and drink you could find, and nodded to him, understanding his wish for quieter surroundings. “Always looking out for us. Thank you, my friend,” he smiled back wanly, and returned to his reverie.

The idea of sprinkling drow poison on his food had flitted through your mind and nauseated you as quickly as you forced it to flit right back out. What kind of thought was that, toward Wyll of all people? Something to figure out later, I suppose. Not tonight. You turned a corner and the whole camp came into view; the far end of the camp, near the river, became keenly clear as a pair of hazel eyes swept across the soirée, to yours.

Not tonight. Please.

—

He inhaled deeply and supped on the vibrance of the smiles, laughter and music around him. Halsin wasn’t the only one who was free, now; the tieflings would be on their way, the umbra of the Shadow Druids had dissipated over the grove, and the danger of the Absolute camp had been vanquished.

His chest swelled with a wholesome delight.

All thanks to this band of, well, vagabonds. Idiots seemed too harsh, although after speaking at length to a few of them, he realized that there was more will than wisdom in more than one. Nonetheless, he couldn’t have been more grateful.

Friendly back slaps and arm shakes came from the group, especially Zevlor who had imbibed at least two glasses of something strong. The night was going well and he was glad to see a few druids in the fray, dancing in a circle with a tiefling or two. The bard tiefling strummed something lively while more joined the circle around the camp fire. Halsin gladly stepped back from the dancing, not nearly drunk enough to partake in anything rhythmic around so many he would have to face again at some point. Actually, not drunk at all. He saved that for more intimate company.

He stood back, at the edge of the camp, and took inventory of his saviors: the feisty tiefling in leather danced in the circle; the pale one (who’s name he had learned was Astarion) endeavored to make Lakrissa swoon over a bottle of wine near his tent; Gale spoke animatedly with Rolan at his tent table, books and complicated hand gestures between them; the githyanki gnawed on a roasted leg of something while peering over the crowd, apparently looking for someone; Wyll was nowhere to be seen; and the brooding one named Shadowheart stood near a tent by the fire, admiring the brawny tiefling woman.

That’s everyone, he thought, except—

His eyes fell on Tav, from across the camp. His chin dropped every so minutely to his chest as he held her eyes and smiled, lightening his gaze by cocking his head to the side and nodding gingerly at her. She did the same. Then, quickly looked away. The light on the lake danced behind her, making her already invigorating presence even more dynamic. Something in his gut tightened and his ears twitched as he realized the tips of them were burning. Blinking at the unexpected sensation, he raised an eyebrow looking down at his boots and pursed his lips. I’ll need to keep that in check, it seems. And she appears to be occupied. I’ve garnered enough of their attention. I can speak to them, to her, tomorrow. He cleared his throat and came back to reality when another tiefling and druid came to congratulate him and hear his harrowing tale of capture and liberation at the hands of the travelers.

He looked once more at Tav’s face, her eyes alight at the sight of all the merriment, and felt a smile spread wide across his face.

“They are, quite remarkable, to be sure.”

He looked back at his audience and began to retell the tale, only to miss Tav look at him and think the same.

—

After hearing all of the stories of this arch druid of the grove and see him cater to yet another growing group of adoring faces, some with more than mere appreciation in their stances and glances, after all he’d been through, she could think of only one thing:

Quite remarkable.

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mirroredroads · 8 months

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to live, even when it feels unbearable. | Evelyn Waugh, from Brideshead Revisited (1945) / The White Book (Le Livre Blanc) by Jean Cocteau, 1930 / Mieko Kawakami, Heaven / Insomnia, Mark Andres, acrylic on canvas, 2021 / Florence Welch, from Useless Magic: Lyrics and Poetry; “Maybe it would be fun” / Aleksandra Waliszewska / El Sur (Víctor Erice, 1983) / Deer On the Side of the American Highway by Devin Kelly / neil hilborn, numbered days / Sun on the horizon (Naomi Kawase, 1996) / Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Eat”

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thegoodviolinist · 5 months

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If you think mentioning my favorite fandoms and pairings in your posts will get me to like and reblog your content, then you are... absolutely right how did you know I've been obsessed with Merlin again lately?

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lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber · 5 months

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Come again, Needle Noggin?

Hello there!

You can call me Cal (He/They), I’ll be your resident writer this morning/afternoon/evening!

Some details about your lovely time here:

I write for:

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi Wan

Luke Skywalker

Din Djarin

Ashoka Tano

Marvel:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Peter Parker

Loki Laufesyon

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

And a couple more that i’ll add once i think of them

Harry Potter: (all either in 7th year or aged up, besides the adults)

Harry Potter

Tom Riddle

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Hermione Granger

Neville Longbottom

Cedric Diggory

Newt Scammander

X-Men:

Charles Xavier

Erik Lehnsherr

Logan Howlett

Scott Summers

Alex Summers

Jean Grey

Hunger Games:

Katniss Everdeen

Peeta Mallark

Coriolanus Snow

Lucy Gray Baird

Sejanus Plinth

The Bear:

Carmen Berzatto

Sydney Adamu

Saltburn:

Oliver Quick

Felix Catton

I also have peaky blinders/cillian murphy blog @red-write-hand, i write cool stuff and can talk over there :]

RULES FOR REQUESTS:

Remember to add in your request:

words count

pairing (x reader, x oc, x canon character)

trope (fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut)

maybe a summary?

I dont do:

incest

dubcon

noncon

nothing with minors (ONLY ACCEPTING REQUESTS WHERE CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP)

vomit/piss/scat

anything with actual people (such as actors, some exceptions are if i specifically say so)

NOTHING BIGOTED (transphobia, homophobia, racism, fatphobia, etc.)

I will write:

close to everything else!

just give me some time, i'm kinda slow, i will get out more headcanons out than fics but those will still get published :]

Last thing, sorry for keeping you...

BE NICE :)

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cowboylikesubai · 7 months

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i can't breathe when i think about it too much.

Mahmoud Darwish, Memory for Forgetfulness / unknown / F. Scott Fitzgerald, Benediction / Taylor Swift, exile / @/free-my-mindd / Zhenya Katava & Neus Bermejo / unknown / Blythe Baird, If My Body Could Speak / C.C.Aurel / Florence + The Machine, I'm Not Calling You A Liar

#back in my web weaving era to cope #on love #web weave #web weaving #aesthetic #dark academia #quotes #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #grief #classic literature #poetry #art #academic aesthetic #taylor swift #heartbreak #on heartbreak #mitski #florence + the machine

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ornithorynquerouge · 2 months

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Diora Baird by F. Scott Schafer/Corbis Outline. 2006

#diora baird #hot stuff #sexy chick #amazing goddess #golf equipment #charming girl

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kiselwp · 4 months

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I made a list of all the members of the band Ghost!

You can use it with the indication of my authorship!

"Seven Inches of Satanic Panic" (Nihil's band)

The Buttertones band

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ𝓠 Quintessence

(Квинтэссенция)

[Rhythm guitar]

Omega Ghoul (Омега)

Martin Persner (Мартин Перснер)

2010-2016 (Opus, Infestissumam, Meliora)

Delta/Eather Ghoul (Дельта/Итер/Эфир)

Henrik Palm (Генри Палм)

2016 (Meliora)

Aether Ghoul (Эфир)

Chris Catalyst (Крис Каталист)

2017-2023 (Meliora, Prequelle, Impera)

Phantom Ghoul (Фантом)

Randy Moore (Ренди Мур)

2023-now (Impera)

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ 🜂 Fire

(Огонь)

[Lead guitar]

Alpha Ghoul (Альфа)

Simon Söderberg (Саймон Содерберг)

2010-2017 (Opus, Infestissumam, Meliora)

Ifrit Ghoul (Ифрит)

Ben Christo (Бен Кристо)

2017 (Meliora)

Dewdrop/Sodo Ghoul (Дьюдроп/Содо)

Per Eriksson (Пер Эрикссон)

2018-now (Prequelle, Impera)

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ 🜄 Water

(Вода)

[Bass guitar]

Chain Ghoul (Чеин)

Gustaf Lindström (Густаф Линдстрем)

2010-2011 (Opus)

Lake Ghoul (Лейк)

Rikard Ottoson (Рикард Оттосон)

2011-2013 (Opus, Infestissumam)

River Ghoul (Ривер)

Linton Rubing (Линтон Рубинг)

2013-2015

Delta/Eather Ghoul (Дельта/Итер/Эфир)

Henrik Palm (Генри Палм)

2015-2016 (Meliora)

Mist Ghoulette (Мист)

Megan Thomas (Меган Томас)

2016 (Meliora)

Dewdrop/Sodo Ghoul (Дьюдроп/Содо)

Per Eriksson (Пер Эрикссон)

2017 (Meliora)

Rain Ghoul (Рейн)

Cosmo Sylvan (Космо Сильван)

2018-now (Prequelle, Impera)

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ🜁 Air

(Воздух)

[Keyboards, back-vocal, tambourine and shaker(only Cumulus in Prequelle era)]

Air Ghoul (Эир)

Mauro Rubino (Мауро Рубино)

2010-2017 (Opus, Infestissumam, Meliora)

Zephyr/Chair Ghoul (Зефир/Чеир)

Zac Baird (Зак Бэрд)

2017 (Meliora)

Cirrus Ghoulette (Циррус)

Laura Scarborough (Лаура Скарборо)

2018-now (Prequelle, Impera)

Cumulus Ghoulette (Кумулус)

Mad Gallica (Мэд Галлика)

2018-now (Prequelle, Impera)

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ🜃 Earth

(Земля)

[Drums]

Terra Ghoul (Терра)

Aksel Holmgren (Аксель Холмгрен)

2010-2014 (Opus, Infestissumam)

Pebble Ghoul (Пеббл)

Martin Hjertstedt (Мартин Хьертштедт)

2014-2016 (Infestissumam, Meliora)

Ivy Ghoul (Иви)

Jan-Vincent Velasco (Ян-Винсент Веласко)

2017 (Meliora)

Mountain Ghoul (Маунтин)

Hayden Scott (Хейден Скотт)

2017-now (Meliora, Prequelle, Impera)

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ 𖤐 Multi

(Мульти)

[Tambourine, shaker, back-vocal, electric acoustic guitar(only Swiss)]

Swiss Ghoul (Свисс)

Justin Taylor (Джастин Тейлор)

2018-now (Prequelle, Impera)

Sunshine/Victory Ghoulette (Саншайн/Виктори)

Sophie Amelkin (Софи Амелкин)

2022 (Impera)

Aurora Ghoulette (Аврора)

Olivia Morreale (Оливия Мореалль)

2023-now (Impera)

[Cowbell]

Cowbell Ghoul (Ковбелл)

Niels Nielsen (Нильс Нильсен)

2016 (Meliora)

[Writer]

Phil/Special Ghoul (Фил/Спешел)

Tobias Forge (Тобиас Форге)

The list by kisel_w_p

#ghost band list #ghost band #ghostband #ghost bc #the band ghost #the ghost band #ghost the band #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul #faceless ghouls #faceless ghoul #ghost ghouls #ghost ghoul #ghoulette #ghost ghoulettes #ghost ghoulette

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natti-ice · 3 months

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Request Rules.

Navigation

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Requests are closed!

Any requests fulfilled will probably be drabbles/blurbs!

If a character you want isn't listed, please send in an ask! there are some characters I don't write for.

Regular fics:

My only rules are that I won't write anything triggering like SA or SH, angsty themes are fine just please do not request anything gory.

My default writing is fem!reader, I do gender neutral upon request. Relationships can be romantic, platonic, or parental. Also any trope is allowed, as long as it coincides with my rules.

Smut fics:

Must be 18+ to request smut!

All smut fics will be written for fem!reader

I will write most things except for:

Incest (stepcest is fine), dubcon/non-con, age play (age gaps are fine), scat, piss, underage characters

If I am uncomfortable with your request I will deny it, politely of course.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Fandoms I write for:

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton + others please ask first!

Criminal Minds:

Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Tara Lewis, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan.

The hunger games:

Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Coriolanus Snow, Lucy Gray Baird, Finnick Odair

Marauders era:

Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Regulus Black.

Tom Riddle

The walking dead:

Rick Grimes, Michonne Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Negan Smith, Alden, Maggie Rhee, Glenn Rhee, + others please ask first!

Marvel:

Peter Parker (all 3), Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, MJ, Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Steve Rogers, Matt Murdock, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Carol Danvers, Scott Lang, + others please ask first!

Agents of shield characters!

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Gabriel.

Stranger things:

Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper

Outer Banks:

Rafe Cameron, JJ Maybank, Sarah Cameron, Pope Hayward.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

#tom riddle x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #dean winchester x reader #jim hopper x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #peter parker x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #peeta mellark x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader

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mazzystarjpg · 1 year

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-i miss who i use to be

dear john- taylor swift/ scott street- phoebe bridgers/ my dark vanessa- kate elizabeth russell/ first love/late spring- mitski/ would’ve, could’ve, should’ve-taylor swift/ blythe baird/ motion sickness- phoebe bridgers/ lolita (1998)

#besties wake up new webweave #this one hurt to make #webweave #webweaving #web weave #web weaving #girlhood #taylor swift #would’ve could’ve should’ve #dear john #phoebe bridgers #mitski #lolita #my dark vanessa

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the-ghost-bird · 1 year

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Hypervigilance and Paranoia; I wish I could blink.

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lgbtpopcult · 7 months

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November WLW entertainment rundown

youtube

Love Senior the series, first episode drops on YouTube November 8.

youtube

Scott Pilgrim November 17

youtube

Black Cake: Season One Premiere – November 1st

youtube

Beacon 23: Season One Premiere – November 12

Movies

youtube

You’re Not Suppose To Be Here, November 4, Lifetime

You’re Not Supposed to Be Here,” which premieres Nov. 4, stars Stause and Diora Baird as a lesbian couple babymooning in a remote mountain town. Developed from Lauren Caster’s concept, “You’re Not Supposed to Be Here” follows pregnant couple Zoe (Stause) and Kennedy (Baird), who are offered a vacation from their stressful lives when Kennedy’s boss gives them a key to a cabin in the woods. When they arrive, however, they are met with less than welcoming arms, prompting Zoe to sound alarms of homophobia, which Kennedy attempts to tamper down.

Books, Games Music etc

That French Summer

Reeling from a very public scandal, Delia Holland takes refuge in a run-down French chateau. She’s determined to stay out of the lime-light, to rebuild her life, and most of all, to be happy. Guillotining her husband would be the icing on the cake, if only she could find him.

After an accident and a surprise breakup, Paris Bennett finds herself alone on her longed-for French vacation. Her characteristically immaculate plans have fallen apart, and she’s barely holding herself together. Plus, the novelty of being Paris in Paris is rapidly starting to wear off.

But when a thunderstorm brings the two together for a night, something begins to sparkle. Delia’s heart starts to fill with happiness again, and Paris suddenly finds that her carefully laid out plans aren’t as necessary as she thought.

Grumpy neighbors, interfering English teachers, a housekeeper who’s more than she seems, a battered car, an even more battered moped, rats and spiders galore, and a chateau that could fall on their heads at any moment come together to prove that the perfect love story doesn’t have to be perfect at all. Sometimes happiness is there for the taking, as long as you can persuade yourself to choose it.

This Bed We Made

https://store.steampowered.com/app/1243850/This_Bed_We_Made/

"February 17, 1958. Sophie's shift at the Clarington Hotel begins like any other — until she opens the door to room 505 and a crimson light comes out…" Does that appeal to your curiosity? If so, this noir investigation full of guilty pleasures and a nosy maid is perfect for you. And of course, you’ll be able to form all sorts of bonds with the hotel guests you usually work for.

Available for: PC

youtube

~The Summer Romance Bloomed From A Lie~

This is a story about finding love to overwrite the feelings for the one they held dearest. A girls love visual novel about summer, love and adolescence.

3 Nov, 2023 https://store.steampowered.com/app/1575980/UsoNatsu_The_Summer_Romance_Bloomed_From_A_Lie/

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softie-rain · 8 days

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Step On Me

Part II - The President

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth/Coriolanus Snow

Summary: “Aren't you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?” Sejanus asked with a pout. Coriolanus froze. When did Coriolanus fell in love with Sejanus? Was he ever even in love with him in the first place? Coriolanus thought he had to be, at least at some point, because how else would he explain the way Sejanus was still haunting him after all those years?

Notes: woo new chapter! This one isn't happy but it's less sad than the first one. (I'd argue the ending is. Blame Scott Street) We have a song reference in this one too, let me know if you spot it (:

chapter: 2/7 (weekly updates!) prev. chapter

read it on ao3 here

The second time Coriolanus saw Sejanus, it was two weeks after he won the elections.

Years had passed since his times as a peacekeeper in District 12, Lucy Gray Baird now only living in the furthest abyss of his mind, no one had memory of her in the Capitol, or in the other Districts. If they even knew about her in the first place.

He had made sure to outshine the 10th Hunger Games by working hard as a gamemaker under Dr. Gaul during the following Games. His ideas had brought new interest to them, thanks to the addition of mutts and traps all around the newly rebuilt arena. His first edition as a gamemaker, right after Lucy Gray’s games, won by the girl from District 4, was probably the one he was the most disappointed by. The only reason being that everything was still in the projecting phase, and those goddamn drones still caused trouble.

But now, five years later, as he sat at his desk in his office in the Presidential Palace, he truly felt at home. It stung that Tigris was colder to him lately, sometimes he sensed some lack of support on her side. But she was still his cousin, and he knew they’d be together till the end, no matter what.

“President Snow?” Cassia, his secretary, knocked at his door. Although president for just a few weeks, Coriolanus was already used to the title. It felt familiar, like it was meant to be. Everything he deserved, was finally his.

“Yes?” He responded. His secretary appeared behind the door, holding a plate of cookies.

“Ms. Plinth passed by, she brought these for you. She also told me to tell you they’re inviting you over for dinner, her and her husband.” She said, leaving the cookies on his desk. Coriolanus observed them and nodded. He knew Strabo had a terminal illness, he wouldn't give him more than over one week of life. He assumed the dinner was Ma’s idea for Coriolanus to say goodbye.

He considered it pathetic, but he had to go anyway. What impression would he give to the people of Panem if it got known that President Snow hadn't been by Strabo Plinth’s side, a man who had given him everything and considered him a second son, in the moment of his final breath?

“I will. Thank you, Cassia.” He said, grabbing one cookie to try it. He noticed Cassia was still standing in front of him, looking rather uncomfortable. “You can go now.” He added.

“She’s still here. She’s insisting on seeing you. I know you said you don’t want to be disturbed at any hour today but-”

“Then you already know what to tell her. Go.” Coriolanus stated, more angry than he intended. Cassia bit her lip and nodded, quickly exciting the office and closing the door behind her.

Coriolanus sighed and leaned back on his chair, passing his hand through his hair. He gave another bite to the cookie, quietly moaning at the taste. Ma’ Plinth might have been a sad pathetic woman (even more so as she aged), but her cooking was still as delicious as ever.

“Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem.” Coriolanus almost choked on the cookie upon hearing the voice. He immediately got up, looking around the room. Like that night of many years ago Sejanus appeared in the corner. He was leaning on the wall right next to the window, observing Coriolanus. “I always knew you were going to get far. Even before the Academy, I would look at you and think ‘Man, this kid will do big things.’”

Sejanus was talking to him with an admiring tone, sounding almost proud of him, as if he was his mother. And, to be fair, it wasn’t far off from what Ma’ had told Coriolanus right after he was nominated President. The boy walked over to him and sat on his desk, looking at the cookies. “Can I? It’s been ages since I’ve eaten one.”

Without responding Coriolanus nodded. Sejanus leaned forward to grab one and as he did so Coriolanus took a good look at his neck. The bruises of the rope were still there, as fresh as ever, like the hanging day had been just the day before, as if no time had passed at all.

“You seem surprised to see me.”

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow surprised, gesturing to Sejanus. “Shouldn't I be?”

Sejanus shrugged and shifted on the desk, sitting with his legs crossed. “I visited you once already.”

“Yeah, when I was nineteen.”

“And now you’re twenty four! Where did the time go? You look just as handsome though. Maybe even a bit more now.” Sejanus leaned in, winking at him. Coriolanus felt himself lightly blush and immediately shook his head, trying to recompose himself.

“And you look just as dead.” Coriolanus bit back, ignoring the effect Sejanus still had on him. When was he going to grow out of his stupid crush? He had finally realized and admitted to himself that he liked Sejanus years ago now, not shortly after his first post-death visit actually, and he thought he was over it. So why did he still make him act like he was twelve again, blushing for a compliment or for the slightest sign of affection by his side?

It made him feel weak, powerless. All that time and Sejanus still had such a strong hold on him. It made him wonder of his time in District 12, how Sejanus had always had that effect on him. Was all the power he felt over the boy just an illusion? Obviously not, or he wouldn’t have sent the recording to Dr. Gaul.

“I’m glad to see the guilt isn’t eating you alive anymore.” Sejanus said, sounding sincere. Coriolanus hated him.

“It’s not.”

“Good. You look happy now.” He said, tilting his head. “Are you?”

Coriolanus frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me, I asked the question.”

“Well, I am.” Coriolanus replied, shifting on his chair and crossing his arms. “So no need for you to be here.” He dismissed him, waving his hand at him.

“I'm not your secretary Coryo, you can't just tell me to leave.” Sejanus said, as if it was a matter of fact. “I didn't decide to be here, you know?”

“Right, because my mind made you up, or whatever.” Coriolanus said, rolling his eyes, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his hand on his palm.

“That's one rational explanation, yes. Or maybe I'm a spirit and I lied to you.” Sejanus said in a neutral tone, crossing his legs on Coriolanus’ desk.

The blonde boy frowned as the other's shoes dirty the surface and then looked up at him again. Sejanus was staring down at him smiling, and Coriolanus found himself missing his curly hair. Truly it had been a shame he died with his head shaved. He would have loved to see his hair one more time.

Coriolanus had given up on trying to find a rational explanation for Sejanus’ first apparition, and he wasn't certainly going to start trying to find one for the second.

Coriolanus cleared his throat and gestured around himself. “So you're proud of what I achieved?” He asked, smiling proudly. “Pretty great, isn't it?”

Sejanus grimaced. “You did big things, that's for sure. But great? I wouldn't say that.” He said, sadness in his voice.

Coriolanus couldn't say he was surprised, though he felt disappointed. He expected Sejanus to congratulate him on what he'd done, but after all he knew his morals: Sejanus could have never been happy for Coriolanus when all he had done was making the tributes’ lives even more miserable. But he had also come up with the idea of the Winners Village in every district, and what about the money for the winners? Also Coryo's idea. Couldn't Sejanus for once be content with the lesser evil?

“Well, I didn’t ask for your approval.”

“Yeah, I assumed you didn't when you turned me in.” Sejanus said laughing, as if he had just made the funniest joke.

Tigris would call him resentful and here he had Sejanus still holding grudges of something that happened almost six years ago.

Coriolanus scoffed and looked down at the documents he was examining before he got interrupted by Cassia, ignoring Sejanus’ eyes on him. He felt the boy shift next to him. Sejanus got up and started pacing the room, observing his surroundings. “Oh, look at this! It's beautiful! And fancy.” He said, pointing at the portrait they made of Coriolanus on his second day as President.

Although Coriolanus hadn't exactly been euphoric to pose for that painting, he had to admit it was rather flattering to have it in his office. Every time he looked at it, every time anyone looked at his portrait could recognize the power Snow held. The hard and proud look he was represented with did him justice, so much that his secretary and most of his employees would on purpose avoid the painting when they entered the room. In Coriolanus’ eyes it was perfect: feared and respected by everyone.

But Sejanus was standing there, quietly, with his hands crossed behind his back, observing the painting with a smile on his face.

“I like it. Except for the eyes, they don't do you justice.”

Coriolanus scowled, trying not to snap at Sejanus. “Why so?”

Sejanus turned to face his Coriolanus and his smile widened. “Yours are much more blue.” He told him, looking at him with those lovesick brown orbs Coriolanus worshiped.

“Did I ever tell you when I realized I was in love with you?” Sejanus asked, walking up to Coriolanus. Coriolanus shook his head no.

“I'm afraid you died before you could.” He replied sarcastically.

Sejanus nodded. “Ah. True. Well, we have time now don't we?” He said excitedly, jumping on the desk again. Coriolanus sighed and pushed his papers aside, knowing it was useless to even just try and tell Sejanus to go away.

“We were fifteen.” He started, looking up. Coriolanus didn't know if it was to avoid his look, but his own eyes were fixated on Sejanus’ face.

“I've always known I liked you, since I first saw you. You looked so adorable, with those rosy cheeks and blonde curls!”

Sejanus smiled widely, and Coriolanus couldn't help but lightly blush at the thought of the Plinth boy being head over heels for him at such a young age, complimenting him like that.

He also found himself getting used to the odd happiness and calm that seemed to be characteristics of post mortem Sejanus.

“Anyway, this day in particular we were at school,” He kept going, “And Festus was talking behind my back. I mean, I could perfectly hear him. I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear or not, actually. I never thought about it.” Sejanus commented, more to himself than to Coriolanus.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, gesturing Sejanus to go on.

“As I was saying, Festus was making fun of me. And then he said, I remember this clearly as if it was yesterday: ‘I think he should be repead for the next Games. That way he'd learn his place!’” Coriolanus gulped. He could see the hurt on Sejanus’ face. So many years had passed and he was clearly still affected by it. He wasn't sure if he could blame Sejanus (or accusing him of being pathetic) for that, though he usually would.

Even to Coriolanus, with that comment Festus had overstepped a line.

“I remember running away, trying not to cry. Which I did, eventually, but only when I got to the bathroom. Which is when you found me.” Sejanus said, pointing at Coriolanus.

“You knocked at the stall where I was hiding and asked me if I was alright. I lied, said I was fine.” Sejanus let out a laugh and shook his head. “You knew I was lying. So you insisted and kept knocking, until I opened the door and got out. And that's when I saw them.”

Coriolanus frowned, confused. “Saw what?”

“Ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. I felt like I might sink and drown, and die.” He replied, staring at Coryo. “You saw me crying and hugged me, no questions asked. Your hand touched mine, and that's when I knew. That I was utterly and desperately in love with you.”

Coriolanus remembered that day. He had immediately followed Sejanus because he had assumed he had gone crying. Assumption that was confirmed when he heard the sobs in the bathroom. Truthfully he had rolled his eyes and sighed before knocking on the door, getting annoyed when Sejanus pretended to be fine.

When he finally came out of the bathroom the site before Coriolanus was pretty pathetic: Sejanus had red and puffy eyes, he kept sniffing with his lips parted, how could he say he was fine when he looked like that?

The hug seemed like the only rational option to Coriolanus to put Sejanus out of his misery, an act of mercy. Apparently it had meant much more to him than Snow thought. Still, he didn’t see any reason to break the news to the boy, so he didn’t say anything about it.

“You’re welcome?” He said instead, which sounded more as a question than a statement. At least it earned a laugh from Sejanus.

The Plinth boy kept staring at him lovingly without saying anything, and Coriolanus was starting to feel rather uncomfortable. He went back to study his documents, clearing his throat trying to stop his voice from breaking when he spoke. “Well now that you’ve told me your sob story you can leave, right?”

His voice was cold, he had already shown his weak side to Sejanus last time, he wasn’t going to repeat the scene once more. Although he would have loved to feel the warmth of his hugs one more time. He despised that feeling, the one he always had around Sejanus, of caring, of attachment. Why couldn't he let him go? Why was it so hard, if he wanted to so badly?

“Aren't you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?” Sejanus asked with a pout.

Coriolanus froze. When did Coriolanus fall in love with Sejanus? Was he ever even in love with him in the first place? Coriolanus thought he had to be, at least at some point, because how else would he explain the way Sejanus was still haunting him after all those years?

But when, that was very blurry.

He never really thought about it and even now, he didn't think there was a specific moment. In Coriolanus’ eyes Sejanus had just always been there, and the blonde's feelings just kept swinging back and forth from hatred to love. Whether said affection was platonic or romantic had never been the main focus of Coryo, who simply would try and go on with life fighting the urge to either slap or kiss some sense into Sejanus.

Uh.

Maybe the feelings had never been platonic.

Either way, he wasn't going to tell Sejanus any of that.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sejanus finally asked, tilting his head.

He didn't seem upset or sad about it, it was a simple genuine question. One to which Coriolanus didn't know the answer to. “Yes.” He replied, looking down at his papers. But was it really what he wanted? What he needed?

“But I'm assuming you won't listen to me will you?” He added looking up, only to find out he was once again alone, as he had always been for the past five years.

He went back to write notes on the documents, pushing away in the deep bottom of his mind the feeling of longing for Sejanus.

In his head he could hear an echo, that he desperately ignored, and that sounded too much like Sej.

“Anyway, don't be a stranger.”

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #sejanus plinth #coriolanus snow #sejanus x coriolanus #coriolanus x sejanus #snowjanus #snowplinth

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duckprintspress · 5 months

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32 of Our Favorite Sci-Fi Reads for National Science Fiction Day

Duck Prints Press LOVES kicking off the new year with one of our favorite annual recommendation lists: science fiction stories (ideally queer, but it wasn’t required) to celebrate National Science Fiction Day! For this year, 14 Duck Prints Press contributors suggested a whopping 32 awesome science fiction books. Note that there’s no overlap with last year (by design) so make sure you also check out Our Ten Favorite Science Fiction Reads of 2022 for some more titles to add to your 2024 TBR.

Our 2024 Science Fiction Recs:

The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi

Hench by Natalie Zina Walschots

Little Mushroom by Shisi

Always Human by Ari North

More Than We Deserve by Nicola Kapron

Sorcerer to the Crown by Zen Cho

Ocean’s Echo by Everina Maxwell

Aurora Rising by Amie Kaufman

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

CrashCourse by Wilhelmina Baird

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

We Have Always Been Here by Lena Nguyen

Emergent Properties by Aimee Ogden

Victories Greater than Death by Charlie Jane Anders

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

The Fever King by Victoria Lee

All Systems Red by Martha Wells

Infomocracy by Malka Older

Zero Sum Game by S. L. Huang

Binti by Nnedi Okorafor

Unconquerable Sun by Kate Elliott

Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone

Trigun and Trigun Maximum by Yasuhiro Nightow

Legend of the Galactic Heroes by Yoshiki Tanaka & Katsumi Michihara

In the Lives of Puppets by T. J. Klune

Mega Man by Ian Flynn & Pat Spaz Spaziante

Mega Man Megamix by Hitoshi Ariga

Ghost in the Shell by Masamune Shirow

Once & Future by A. R. Capetta & Cory McCarthy

Five-Twelfths of Heaven by Melissa Scott

The Big Sigma by Joseph R. Lallo

Want to come read some of these books with us? Join our 2024 Queer Book Challenge on Storygraph! One of our challenges there is to read a queer science fiction book, and there’s a lot on this list that’d count!

You can check out all our sci-fi recs on this Goodreads shelf.

Wish you could contribute to these lists? Back our Patreon, join our Discord, and you can!

#duck prints press #national science fiction day #book recs #queer book recs #book recommendations #recommendation list

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scotianostra · 3 months

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On February 15th 1986 Scotland scored their biggest ever win against England in a rugby international.

They won the game by 33-6 at Murrayfield, with Gavin Hastings scoring 21 points in the match. Let's hope we can produce something like it a week on Saturday.

Here is a short report on that match, and below are video highlights, commentary of course by the late great Bill McLaren.

The first half was a dour affair, played on the kind of pitch that would earn you a sanction in the championship today. Gavin Hastings kicked four penalties in the half, Rob Andrew two and at the break there was little suggestion either side would run away with it. This near-as-damn-it parity would not last long, as Scotland produced 40 of the most scintillating Five Nations minutes.

And it is difficult to think of a better try by any team at Murrayfield than Scott Hastings’ try that afternoon. Five minutes into injury-time England mauled forward from the Scottish 10-metre line, only for the ball to squirt loose. Roger Baird, the left-wing, picked up and danced at pace 50 metres down the touchline, drawing England defenders towards him before looping a pass back over his own head to John Beattie. Beattie offloaded to Finlay Calder, who went into contact and recycled it back to the No8. On he went, through a gap down the middle, giving it right to John Jeffrey, into the 22 and on to Rutherford, with England chasing ghosts. The inside-centre Hastings was up in support and took the final pass to go under the posts with no Englishman able to lay a hand on the Scot.

Ultimately, this proved a bittersweet victory for Scotland. They were the best side in that year’s competition but lost the title on points difference to France.

You can see hilights of the match here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKil17JiRTU&feature=emb_logo

#scotland #scottish #history #sporting history #rugby #five nations

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drunkinchicago · 5 months

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coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird

link: chapter 1, link: chapter 2, link: chapter 3 link: chapter 4 link: chapter 5

Chapter 6: sweeter

Everyone once, once only. Just once and no more. And we are also once. Never again. But this having been once, although only once, to have been of the earth, seems irrevocable.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Ninth Elegy from Duino Elegies (1923)

“Things are sweeter when they're lost.”

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

Coriolanus was awake earlier than usual the following morning, taking his coffee on the balcony and drinking it long before it cooled. He enjoyed the scalding sensation on his tongue, and didn't mind the burn. The help seemed on edge, a likely consequence of his aggression the day before. He had no intention of apologizing.

It was difficult to think straight knowing that Lucy Gray was in his home. Tigris normally came home on Sundays, at least in the afternoon, enlisting the maids to wash her clothes and lounging in her room before packing a bag and going off to wherever it is she went. Perhaps Tigris and Lucy Gray would meet today. It was a strange thought, but they hadn’t met before, not physically. Dean Highbottom had squandered that possibility by relinquishing the proper Victor reunion that Coriolanus had envisioned so clearly. God, Highbottom-colored blood on his hands and Coriolanus still couldn’t get over it. This could’ve all been avoided if it had been Lucy Gray waiting for him rather than that wretched man. Coriolanus was certain that he could’ve convinced Lucy Gray to stay with him in the Capitol in the drunkenness of their win, and then they would’ve been months ahead of where they stood now. No Peacekeeper sentencing, no killing of Mayfair and Billy Taupe (although this was admittedly a benefit), no snake hiding beneath a beloved orange scarf. Maybe Sejanus would even be alive. No - but then, Coriolanus wouldn’t be as wealthy. Everything happens for a reason, after all.

Coriolanus liked Sundays. He normally took them to himself, sunning on the rooftop as he attempted to tend to the roses as Grandma’am would. He wasn’t an overtly social creature anyway, but Sundays felt especially sacred and reserved for him alone. He avoided responsibilities and even tried not to think of them, maintaining a clean mind to make room for what really mattered - her. And for the first Sunday in his life, she was in a bed down the hall rather than the bed in his brain.

When Coriolanus reentered the kitchen and handed his cup to the maid for washing, he asked her, “Have you checked on Lucy Gray?”

Nod, yes.

“She ate? Was she sleeping soundly?”

Two nods.

Coriolanus made his way toward the guest wing of the apartment, a place he rarely spent time as he had no reason to. Yesterday was the longest he’d spent in that bedroom, putting it together like a dollhouse. Even Lucy Gray’s closet was full of clothing he’d bought - nightgowns, babydoll dresses with thin adjustable straps, Mary Jane shoes in three different colors. He hoped she could find clothes that she liked, unsure if his taste could satisfy her handmade, ornate dresses from Twelve. Down the line, he planned to enlist Tigris to produce designs that were more in line with Lucy Gray’s personal style. There hadn’t been time for that yet. He’d ordered these items through a catalog distributed by a boutique in the Capitol’s shopping district, listing out his preferences on the phone and having them hand delivered in boxes with pink tissue paper. “Extra-small, and a size five shoe,” he’d reported to the sales associate, barely able to speak through the strain of the wide smile on his face.

He opened the door to Lucy Gray’s bedroom with the stealth of a cat, using all of his energy to be completely silent. The room was clean, but disturbed - he could tell she’d been looking through her new things. Coriolanus hoped it made her feel even guiltier for her show last night. It was difficult to stay angry at her, but he’d give her the impression of such if it gave him more control. Such an empathetic girl she was. That’s part of what he loved about her.

And it’s not that he wasn’t upset still - he was. He’d hardly been able to sleep over it. Coriolanus was not naive enough to not expect some turbulence, but her dramatics with the prospect of assault were deeply upsetting. On the other hand, certain aspects of their reunion had gone even better than he’d anticipated. He thought it’d take longer to get Lucy Gray to admit her desire to fuck him, but she’d said it loud and clear, his fingers in her mouth. Now he could withhold it from her, make her work for it. And she had the liberty to do the same, but Coriolanus didn’t like the chase. He often heard peers at the University quipping about that idea - the gimmick of playing hard to get. He didn’t share an affinity for that behavior. To him, it seemed to be insecure, a last-ditch effort to gain the upper hand by denying an opportunity that would be better served being seized in the first place. Admittedly, he would be a hypocrite in feeling this way and simultaneously forcing Lucy Gray to make greater efforts to gain his attention. But it was different with Coriolanus Snow. Wasn’t everything? He could be hard to get, he could be chased - because he couldn’t be caught. When Coriolanus chased things, he just wanted to find them and shoot them.

Lucy Gray was, as the Avox had confirmed, fast asleep. She looked serene, almost annoyingly so, like a stereotype - lips parted, the sun on her face, her white down feather comforter bunched up at her feet. Things could be worse, couldn’t they, he wanted to say to her. Isn’t Capitol life nice, princess?

Her eyes shot open just as Coriolanus had leaned against the wall directly across from the foot of the bed, keeping his distance but watching her just the same. She opened her mouth in protest, but Coriolanus interrupted. “Relax, I’m not going to touch you.” He succeeded in sounding disinterested and agitated, as though this wasn’t his favorite sight in months.

Lucy Gray’s cheeks were flushed pink. She attempted to smooth down her hair with her hands, clearly disoriented from having just been woken up. He liked her this way, all vulnerable and sleepy-eyed. You don’t have to fix your hair, he thought to himself, denying her the satisfaction. You look pretty. Too pretty.

“Did you like your dinner?” Coriolanus asked, maintaining the flat tone he’d previously used.

Lucy Gray nodded. “It was nice, real nice.”

No thank you, I see. “I curated that menu for us. We were supposed to eat it together, I tried to make it romantic.”

“You didn’t eat?” Lucy Gray’s voice was small.

“No. A waste, really, but I expect I’ll survive.”

Lucy Gray couldn’t tell if she was supposed to laugh at this, if he was kidding. She gathered her blanket further over her chest, still shy at the luxury of her conditions. She’d spent the prior evening in tears, hoping Coriolanus wouldn’t come to her room and praying he would at the same time. The array of gifts and decorations was painful, so carefully thought out. The best part was the guitar, leaning against the far right wall in a brown leather case. She gripped the neck of the Fender as though it was his arm, reminicist of the way he’d hold her in moments of distress and desire alike. Lucy Gray hadn’t known that guitars this fine existed, the strings already perfectly turned and the wood smooth and creamy.

She kept wanting to undermine Coriolanus’ efforts, chalking it up to his evidently newfound extreme wealth. Anyone with riches could do this for a girl, she told herself. And the dumb ones would fall for it. Though, wasn’t he that same boy who’d saved half of his lunch in a napkin for her, waiting outside her cage and apologizing that he couldn’t spare more? He’d been giving her all he could for a while now, only deficient of the truth. It humanized Coriolanus as she imagined him choosing bed sheets with ruffles on the edges, ballet flats in red, black and pink. It also answered a question she’d be waiting to ask: how long will I be here for? A while, it seemed - a very long time.

“I figured you’d like the pomegranates and raspberries, red fruits that burst and bleed when you bite them,” Coriolanus sighed, stepping closer to get a better look at her face. “How’s your lip, on the topic of blood?”

Lucy Gray’s cheeks flushed as she recalled the sensation of Coriolanus’ thumb between the roof of her mouth and her tongue, how pleasured he looked. The force with which he removed his hand had reminded Lucy Gray of where she stood. Her ears were left ringing, watching the froth of her spit turn pink on the pristine floor. Her dinner that night, the most delectable meal she’d ever had, tasted slightly of blood as she worried the wound on her lip bite by bite. She didn’t mind the taste.

“It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt.”

Coriolanus nodded in response. His outfit was much more relaxed today, wearing a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and khaki gauze pants. He was also wearing socks, cream, thick socks, so clean that they looked like they’d never been worn before. It was strange to see him this way, dressed down and comfortable. He was almost always in a uniform when Lucy Gray had known him, whether it be that of the Academy or the Peacekeepers. The only other time she’d seen him so casual had been at the lake in nothing but his undergarments, water dripping through his eyelashes to race down his hard stomach.

“What are you doing today?” Lucy Gray managed to ask, entirely unsure of how to navigate their communication, entirely unsure of what this was or what it would be.

“I don’t do much on Sundays,” Coriolanus responded with a casual tone as though he were talking to a stranger in a market, a classmate in the library. “Maybe read or garden. You?”

Lucy Gray was taken aback by the question, having already resigned herself to a lack of autonomy. She struggled to conceptualize that she had a day ahead of her at all, one where she could choose to do something. A part of her had expected Coriolanus to present her with a hand-written itinerary. Lunch at noon. Shower at six. Snow’s room at nine.

“You could get used to the new guitar,” he suggested. “I’d like you to play shows in the Capitol eventually, everyone would. You’re quite the hit here.”

Shows? She could leave? “Would they pay me?”

Coriolanus laughed, seeming somewhat offended. “Do you need money?” He gestured to the room around them, emphasizing that materially, Lucy Gray had what both she needed and what she could want.

“They paid me in Twelve, is all. It was nice to know I was worth something to people.”

“You’re clearly worth a fair amount to me.” Coriolanus’ response was quick and sharp, his eyes boring holes through hers.

“That’s not what I was trying to say.” Lucy Gray began to stammer. She could tell she was upsetting him again, saying all the wrong things. It was hard to speak when he was looking at her this way, like a discovery, an invention, an entity made new by his presence.

“If you want them to pay you, sure, they’ll pay you. Just don’t think it makes you any less bound to me.”

To this, Lucy Gray couldn’t respond. Bound - a territorial limit, a marble-ridden enclosure. She was property.

Coriolanus sensed her apprehension, boldness stirring in his chest. “Do you hate me, Lucy Gray?”

Hate, a decidedly ugly word. Lucy Gray hadn’t been raised to feel such an emotion, considering it too heavy of a burden to carry. Of course, she could recognize it within her all the same - she hated the Games, she hated the feeling of hunger, she hated cold weather. She knew what to label the feeling she experienced when she was revulsed by something, what it was called when her cheeks burned with agitation at the sight of it. Looking at Coriolanus, that was not the feeling she got. It was a sensation much deeper, darker, more lustful. She didn’t know what to call it.

“You should’ve come and got me yourself,” she finally said, remembering the rough hands of several Peacekeepers on her arms, overpowering her without mercy. Lucy Gray and Coriolanus were making a bad habit of ignoring one another’s questions, their thoughts moving faster than their lips.

“You wouldn’t have come with me.”

“You would’ve made me.”

“If I alone could do that, I would’ve done it sooner.”

Lucy Gray knew this was true and had known that before she even made her demand. But what would’ve happened if it had been Coriolanus waiting for her to awake, unconscious on the branch of a tree, the little belongings she had scattered around her? She wouldn’t have killed him - she couldn’t if she wanted to, she hadn’t any weapons and hardly any physical strength. In the haste of her poorly planned escape, Lucy Gray had only been able to bring one additional dress shoved into her undergarments, having to switch between the two for months, typically shoving them on long before they were dry from whatever contaminated body of water she’d found to wash them with. That was the same water she’d been drinking, the kind that somehow made her feel thirstier. As for food, Lucy Gray had been surviving off of plants, eating just enough to dull her headache and rationing the rest. She’d set up camp as soon as she felt far enough and rarely moved from that point on. She wasn’t strong enough to do much other than fetch water or dandelion and clover, as well as the occasional washing of her limited garments. Truthfully, it was hardly a way to live, but Lucy Gray found the silver lining. She had her life, her voice, her autonomy - she’d watch the stars at night, the clouds in the day. Animals rarely bothered her, which was for the better, as she had no function of fending them off. The sight of a singular deer one afternoon had brought tears to her eye, the only company she’d had in ages. The creature was massive but lean, massive antlers adorning his head - a male. He was free. When he’d left her, she watched him intently, galloping through the tree line until he was nothing but a blur, far away and imagined.

As though he could read her mind, Coriolanus asked, “Were you happy out there?”

Lucy Gray didn’t know the answer. In those months spent alone, she found herself feeling more along the lines of… nothing. She was nothing, something to be forgotten - and that’s what she thought he was doing. Forgetting, even though she couldn’t. Nothing, nothing, nothing - nothing in a torn dress, nothing on the limb of a tree, nothing with leaves in its small hands, hoping it wouldn’t taste poison before every bite. Happy was not the word, but there wasn’t another word to give.

“I was myself.” As the statement left her mouth, Lucy Gray worried it didn’t sound convincing.

Coriolanus considered this. “I’m not sure you were, Lucy Gray.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you better than you think I do.”

We all do things we’re not proud of to stay alive. He’d once said this to her, before either of them had killed, had been responsible for the dimming of another’s life. That was before he’d known such a power, and even then, he was right. Coriolanus considered himself a man of intuition whether or not he had faltered before. He knew that the feeling that awakened within him at his first sight of Lucy Gray meant something . She was special and would prove to be significant in his life - she already had been. He recalled the thought that Lucy Gray had no life before her name was written alongside his by random, how the calling of her name at the Reaping tethered her to him in this perfect, inventive way. He made Lucy Gray, or the world made her for him. Casca Highbottom had been trying to make a fool of Coriolanus when he assigned him the District Twelve girl, the weakest link. Instead, Casca had given Coriolanus the greatest gift - fame, fortune, perhaps one day a family. He was embarrassed at how bad he wanted that, but reality would not humiliate him. Casca told him he couldn’t have the prize and the girl, but he was going to get it all.

“You’re weak,” Lucy Gray whispered, her voice small, everything about her small, cowering on the giant bed he had custom-made for her.

“For you, perhaps,” Coriolanus said plainly, unable to argue. “Everyone has their vice.”

Lucy Gray’s eyes widened, surprised at his unashamed response. She had to highlight all that was bad about him before the good had space to creep in. “You’re a murderer.”

Coriolanus nodded, strolling closer to the door. He wasn’t angry at what she’d said. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, completely still. “You once told me that we were responsible for each other’s lives - no one else’s. Which, I suppose, is why you’re a murderer as well,” he paused. “We are remarkably close to each other, Lucy Gray. I know the side of you that you don’t want to face.”

Lucy Gray was left alone then, the slam of the door preceding a flood of vicious thoughts. She laid in bed for hours, experiencing a loop of self-hatred, painful memories, comfort and the remembrance of the feeling of hunger, the idea that if she was here, she may never feel it again.

Her contemplations were interrupted only once that day, a single knock around five o’clock. She opened the door to a perfectly arranged platter of food - triangle-cut sandwiches and the same salad she’d had last night, two servings of it, the pomegranate one. It’d been her favorite, and she didn’t even have to tell him. He just knew.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg series #thg #tbosas spoilers #coriolanus snow #snow #president snow #snowbaird #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x lucy gray #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x coriolanus #suzanne collins #archive of our own #ao3

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