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#which tracks with the gray
theluckiestlb · 2 years
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[kiCKS DOWN DOOR]
His hair is brown?????
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mattodore · 5 months
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found out while putting together matthias's oc page that his name has the exact same etymology and meaning as theo's name...
i’m sure this is information matthias is very normal about…
#theo is in fact a gift from god so jot that down !#river dipping#i've been throwing myself into oc stuff bc i'm not doing hot mentally which is... tbh when i do my best writing 😭#none of this is new tho i wrote the bios and 'at a glance' intros months and months ago when i first made an oc page#which is why i do plan on rewriting them but for now i'm leaving them like this... so i guess the echthroi page is done?#obviously echthroi has more characters than this but i haven't taken new screenshots of everyone yet...#i put the gray cas bg back in my game a few days ago only to completely forget i wanted to take new headshots for the oc page 😭#like these are just placeholders... i want the backgrounds to match the oc page. oh... or maybe i could just do transparent pics?#i think i remember vyx made a post abt how to do that... will look into that when i open the game again. rn i'm at my keyboard 🧑‍💻#like i am writing new things! started a google doc for theo yesterday and have been writing on it here and there since then#i've already cried in there... lmaooo. i like oc pages for sure but i think a huge google doc is what i really need to keep track of things#i drop so much lore in tags on here and it's like! river write that down somewhere else or you'll lose it 😭#like i fr have never actually written down any of the info i've shared on here. i've just had all this oc knowledge stored in my brain.#so i went through and copied over a tonnn of tags and posts i've made into google docs but i just know i'm missing things i've probably#said in the tags of their core tagged posts... 🧍 if my blog didn't have so many posts i'd have an easier time going through it but 🤷#and on top of that i've been making a bunch of posts about theo and matthias on my main acc. which is like 🧍 well great now there's more#i'm gonna lose track of...... i fr have gottt to get into the habit of actually putting things down in theo's google doc!!!#i'm just trying to figure out the best way to format it all but i've downloaded a few templates that i've been messing with.#...anyway. if it isn't obvious i'm trying to get back to posting on here. i'm opening my inbox now with the intent to just.#sit here in my inbox until i can get myself to reply. lads... avpd is actually so torturous i'm not kidding.#i feel like i'm dying trying to get myself to interact with people sometimes even despite how badly i want!!!! to interact!!!#theo and me and our avoidant trauma responses holding hands and skipping around together
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ronanlynchbf · 5 months
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front-facing-pokemon · 10 months
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#angle under the cut where you can see their eyes because it is NOT very flattering from the front#sharpedo#this is the fucker that zooms after you like a missile in the swsh DLC‚ right? i think it also does that in sv. it's scary honestly#it's so fast. and it makes that big ol' zoomin' effect like the third nozzle in super mario sunshine. i don't remember what it's called but#it's the gray one. super mario sunshine is my favorite mario game which i feel like is not a very popular opinion#but it tracks because i had a gamecube as a kid. so games on that tend to be some of my favorites because nostalgia i guess#luigi's mansion‚ super mario sunshine‚ pokémon colosseum…#i could go on and on about these games.  honestly. luigi's mansion is one of my favorites of all time. i still think it's great even as an#adult. it's much better than the other luigi's mansions in my opinion‚ though i guess my opinion Might be clouded by nostalgia#although i would like to think i can look back on it with a critical eye. i still replay it basically once a year cuz it's super short#i think it's super atmospheric and the later two luigi's mansion games don't really capture that same aesthetic#of… what basically amounts to like. a horror aesthetic. which is weird to say because it's a kids' game but#y'know i'm also not putting my whole brain into these tags right now bc i'm distracted but i hope i am making sense#fellow luigi's mansion fans know what i'm talking about. this is not about sharpedo so here is sharpedo#i believe this'll be posting on the last day of my outing when i'll be flying back home. so. finger's crossed#nope i just queued it and it's the day before i'm flying home. either way‚ good luck‚ future me
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maulthots · 5 months
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Watching hawkeye go gray over the course of 3 weeks is something that can be so personal.
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alphalone3141592 · 7 days
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I wanna punt the cunt that made apple music's stations memoryless so hard in the head they enter low earth orbit
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pallases · 1 year
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about to drop out jfc
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mybrainproblems · 2 years
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Sometimes I just get really on my dabbnatural shit (well, more than normal) and consider doing a slide deck on why I find him so interesting/the internal thematic consistency of his eps and why ppl need to respect him more as a writer/heller while also critiquing his work that is genuinely problematic and not the fucking finale
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inquisitorismone · 3 months
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also we know that anders is older than cullen by up to 10 years (we know this because his timeline is such that his last escape would've been around when cullen was assigned to the tower, and what meager scraps of anders lore we get suggests he was in his mid to late 20s at that point), and cullen is probably around alistair's age, so born around 9:10 dragon. so let's say anders is around rhys's age and was born around 9:01 dragon (this tracks because rhys is like 38 in asunder which is about where i'd place anders post da2)(again, a lot of this is just my personal opinion/interpretation LOL)
i'm trying to like. put together the youngest karl could've possibly been and Also have fought with the rebel army lmao
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softceleste · 5 months
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The Maisie Peters brainrot was real this year.
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sugarmouchie · 4 months
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⋆ ˚ ꩜ "you're the most handsome man i know" trope hehe
PAIRINGS. alhaitham 〳 zhongli 〳 wriothesley x gn . reader
CW. jealousy lawl 〳 insecure bbies but u reassure them 〳 slight ooc characters 〳 lmk if i missed anything :]
NOTE. i know jing yuan is the header but shh he's adorable so we don't talk about it
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ALHAITHAM ꒱
with the gray haired sleepy head "resting his eyes" on your lap as he quoted, your eyes couldn't help but drift towards the small features you always adored so very much.
"haitham," you randomly spoke, to which he looked up to you, his eyes weary and his throat raspy as he eyes you up and down, waiting for you to say the oh-so-important thing that interrupted his peaceful sleep.
"you know you're really pretty, right?" you smiled, his eyes shutting for two seconds then opening again as soon as he heard your words, i mean, you tell him that everyday, so why would he overthink about it?
you notice his confused state, and so you begin to speak once more, not knowing that your words would sent a mental alarm in him.
"i mean," you pause, "you are the most handsome man i know."
as much as you like the small pink rising across his cheeks, it instantly fades away as he glares up at you.
"what?" you glare back at him jokingly, basically just trying to test the waters.
of course you knew how alhaitham was like, but what you didn't know is that he can get insecure from time to time but you're completely unaware of it.
with kaveh always bugging him about something that happened in the akademiya, he can hardly catch the peaceful moments with you like this, which led you to your obliviousness to his insecurities that formed when he was away from you.
"you know other men?" he finally speaks.
"..."
"just accept the compliment," you playfully roll your eyes, to which he turns his head away from you to.
"no no, i'm sorry, you're the only man i know," you quickly reassure, to which his eyes practically light up to.
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ZHONGLI ꒱
in the middle of you and zhongli's conversation that involved his unusual gossiping about his stressful day at work today, he cleared his throat, a usual sign that he was about to change the topic.
"what is it?" you instantly notice his eyes forming into almost pleading ones, which was very unusual for him.
"could you grab me a cup of tea real quick? i've been feeling a bit dehydrated during this conversation," he speaks, patting you on the shoulder twice, it always worked.
you looked him in his golden eyes and your confusion was very obvious to him.
"not proper of me, hm?" he smiles at you, his lips tugging up back into that gentle smile he always praised you with.
"not really, no," you laugh.
he loved that laugh. the laugh that always warmed his heart whenever he had the time to do things like this with you.
the laugh that he gained from you.
"beautiful," he catches you off guard as you begin walking to the now boiling hot water to make his tea.
"you're one to talk," you smirk, "you're the most beautiful man i know, zhongli."
he raises his brows, "oh? you've never told me about anyone, dear," he teases.
"oh," you pause in your tracks, your hand on the warming pot of water which you didn't notice until it got hotter, "that's not what i meant, silly."
"you're burning your hand there, dear, be careful," he teases again, but this time it's more like a warning for you not to get hurt.
"you distract me too much, i'm almost done with it," you turn your head back around to face him, the pot now fully heated up, ready for you to prepare it for the tea you have been holding back on him ever since he started teasing you.
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WRIOTHESLEY ꒱
assisting your boyfriend in his work was stressful, yes, but you couldn't lie all the time when it came to going down to the pankration ring.
"you're not doing it right," he comes up from behind you, guiding your hands to help you aim your bow at the upcoming red ball.
"pull your string back and once your arrow is there, aim it at the middle of the ball," he assists you, and your mind can't help but be caught onto his voice and the guidance of his hands holding yours.
"careful, you don't wanna hurt yourself," he teases when he notices you staring at his strong arms assisting you, "you zone out too much, love," he laughs.
"and you pay attention to everything too much, love," you tease, emphasizing the word 'love' to catch him off guard like he did to you.
right after that, he faces you towards him and raises a brow.
"what? cat caught your tongue?" you giggle and put your index finger to his lips, practically a way to tell him to be quiet.
he takes your finger off his lips and shakes his head 'no'.
"ugh," you roll your eyes, "you're lucky you're the most handsome man i know," you continue, to which he tilts his head at.
"do you still want help with this or not, [name]?" he smirks at you, noticing your instincts.
"i gave you a compliment, what do you mean?" you tease, to which he sighs at.
"other men?" he rolls his eyes back at you, to which you instantly notice his insecurities about your words.
well, yes this was your whole plan, to tease him like you always do to each other, but you didn't know he'd get jealous!
"wait, i'm sorry," you frown, "it was a joke," you continue, pulling him into a tight embrace.
"don't do that again or i'm not letting you see sigewinne for a week," he chuckles, hugging you back, to which you instantly pulled away and looked at him with wide eyes.
"you're joking right?"
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SUGARMOUCHIE © do not copy / translate / repost my works on other platforms, thank u :3
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shiny-jr · 5 days
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I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)
Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Vil Schoenheit.
Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...
Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.
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It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.
And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.
From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.
Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.
As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.
After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.
The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.
Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.
There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!
"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.
Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.
There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.
When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.
"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.
A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.
If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.
Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.
A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.
"What...? This? You want this? But..."
You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.
"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."
You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.
Click!
It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.
"Hey! Wait––"
The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.
A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.
"Thank you––"
He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.
"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"
He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.
What did he mean freed?
There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.
The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"
"Yes..." You nod slowly.
"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."
Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.
The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.
The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.
Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?
Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.
The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.
Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.
"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"
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ghostfacd · 5 months
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you’ll see my face in every place (but you can’t catch me now)
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!capitol!reader
summary: you were finally dead, so why did you show up everyday in Coriolanus’s life?
warnings: coriolanus is a sick motherf, seriously sick. mentions of sex, mentions of killing & snakes, reader finally getting justice in end (sorta?)
part 1 | can be read off as standalone but recommend reading for context
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Coriolanus Snow was utterly and undeniably fucked. He absolutely was.
He was sure when he had gotten rid of Sejanus, Lucy Gray, and you—that that was the end of it, and no one would hear about it again. After all, the Plinths and Ciceros took in Coriolanus like a son, thanking them for taking such good care of their son and daughter when they couldn’t.
And it wasn’t like Coriolanus Snow was some idiot. He knew how to cover up his tracks, and he knew how to do it good. If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he believes if one truly wants to get rid of something, one should do all in his power to make it happen. And that’s what Coriolanus did. He erased every trace of Lucy Gray Baird and Sejanus, and hopefully, you.
Coriolanus woke up one morning in the Cicero estate feeling extremely cold. He looked outside to see snow, which made his lips quirk up in a sly smile. Your parents were devastated over your death, Mrs. Cicero automatically offering Coriolanus your bedroom because she couldn’t stand her only daughter being gone.
- - -
Coriolanus opens your closet, a walk-in closet that not even the whole District 1 would be able to afford. Gosh, he remembered the first time he was here and you were showing him a pretty short dress that covered nothing, and how he wanted to take you right then and there. He did minutes after, and that short dress was long discarded on the floor.
But now your presence was gone, just your clothes that were still there. Mr. Cicero refused for the maids to get rid of it; he said he wanted to remember his daughter for the lovely fashionable girl she was. Coriolanus looked through your sweaters, much were pink or white, but Corio found a dark blue one that was gender neutral that he liked.
Although it was just polyester, Coriolanus felt chills as he wore it. He swore he took in a whiff of your perfume. How could that have been possible? It was weeks after yours and Sejanus’s death, weeks after he went back to the Capitol with a fake sob story and bloodshot eyes. There was no way—just absolutely no way that your perfume could still be lingering on this old polyester sweater.
Snow gasps. A loud sound hits your window, a bird, he assumes. And as he gets closer, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees a unconscious bird on the floor, with snow melting around it.
Snow melting. Snow. Melting.
Coriolanus needed to get out of his own head. It wasn’t healthy.
He was now an apprentice to Dr. Gaul, a spot that brought him enormous pride. Soon, he’ll take over all of Panem, and make sure any remaining rebels would be expelled, or better yet, executed.
“Hey,”
Was Coriolanus going crazy? He was so sure he heard your voice in the trees, just right outside your estate. Mrs. Cicero, your mother, had expressed how much you liked planting, and it was evident from the amount of tall bark trees littering around the entire home.
In the lab, Dr. Gaul was teaching Coriolanus how to be gentle with the snakes so he wouldn’t get bitten like poor Clemensia had before the 10th Hunger Games even started. He thought she was long dead by now, but she had came to him a few weeks prior yelling about how she can’t believe he never visited her in the hospital. Coriolanus didn’t outright tell her—but he saw fading scales all over her neck. The turtleneck wasn’t doing her any good.
“Alright, here you go,” Dr. Gaul says gently, handing Coriolanus one of the longer snakes. He looked into its eyes, and was horrified to see your eyes stare back at him. He shrieked, flapping the snake into the air and blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.
“What is wrong with you Mr. Snow?!” Dr. Gaul asks, astonished by her star pupil’s behavior.
He only gulps, excusing himself home early that day.
- - -
“Oh Corio, I wanted you to have this,” Mr. Cicero approached him as he sat in front of your giant vanity. He was holding a few printed photographs of you and Coriolanus, huddled up together, looking as cute of a couple as ever. He remembered those moments, where you were smiling like crazy as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he seem to have been missing lately. “You know my daughter really loved you. And I’m not a man of many words—but I want to thank you for being there for her. She loved you so much she begged me to let her go to district 12 to be with you and Sejanus again. I hate the way things happened, but at least I know she was loved by you.”
And slowly, Snow starts to crack.
When the Ciceros had fallen asleep, he lit the fireplace, watching as the fire slowly get taller. He takes one good look at the photographs, then throws them in with the flames. He gave his blood, sweat, and tears for this moment. To finally be in a huge estate, to be with loving parents, to be an apprentice to the most important doctor in the Capitol. He deserved this. He did. He gave up his best friend, he gave up his own tribute, Lucy Gray—not that she mattered or anything because Coriolanus established a clear line in his head that she was simply just a district scum who was lucky enough to win because of him. And lastly, he gave up his girlfriend, Y/N Cicero, you, for this.
Coriolanus Snow was not going to let anything get in the way of his goal.
- - -
The next week, Coriolanus suggests the Ciceros throw a party to memorialize you. Coriolanus thinks of this big, grand, emotional speech. He’ll tell everyone how much of a sweetheart you were, how much you two were inlove. Then he’d get stern—saying that he’ll make sure your death won’t be forgotten, especially when he plans on running for president soon.
Everyone claps, so infatuated with the way he speaks. It’s cause he lies; straight from his mouth.
“I know what you did.”
The trees speak to Coriolanus in hushed violent murmurs, almost as if they were mad at him. They spoke in riddles, but sometimes they’d just outright say what Coriolanus had done.
“You killed them. You killed them all.”
“Blood is on your hands.”
“Snow bleeds red.”
And it frustrates Snow. It’s something, for once, that he can’t control. It sickens him that he’s unable to anything about the trees.
- - -
Mr. and Mrs. Cicero die a year later. Rebel bombing, they assumed. But only Coriolanus knew that it wasn’t—that it was him, and because he was like a son to them for the past year, he was under their will, meaning he got the entire estate.
He ran for president with the Cicero family name, and with their money too.
Coriolanus marries Livia Cardew. He doesn’t like her, much less tolerate her, but she was a good asset. Just a trophy hanging from his arm.
And Livia didn’t mind, she knew Snow was incapable of loving her, and she had an itching feeling it had something to do with you.
But Livia loved you when she was friends with you at the Academy, so she doesn’t bat an eye when Coriolanus mumbles out your name while they’re having sex. In fact, Coriolanus refused to touch or look at Livia unless he was under enormous pressure and needed someone—no something—to get his anger out on. Livia always took the blows, but she was still grateful that she hadn’t married Fetus, because that—that wouldn’t have been pretty.
The first thing Snow does as president is cut down the trees. The forests and woods? Well he burned them all. He didn’t like the cat and mouse chase that Lucy Gray had played on him in the woods, so he figured getting rid of them was like finally erasing you from his brain. No more Sejanus Plinth, no more Lucy Gray Baird, and fucking finally, finally!—no more Y/N Cicero.
But Coriolanus made a slight error. Because 64 years later, his ex lover comes back to haunt him, only this time, in the form of a girl from District 12, Katniss Everdeen.
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ev-arrested · 10 months
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My favorite HC ever is Dick Grayson just. Acting dumb. In all aspects.
Richard John Grayson is perfectly fucking capable of cooking. Is stereotyped to be capable of burning water and is banned from the manor’s kitchen. His brothers have no idea he knows how to make a three Michelin star steak.
Dick Grayson is bisexual. He knows this, has known it for forever, and is 100% comfortable with it. Based on what others would tell you, though, he’s completely straight and is actually a little uncomfortable with being considered gay. 100% a fierce ally to his queer family and friends tho.
What’s navigation like for Dickie Gray? A master. Can track anything, navigate anywhere, knows a dozen methods for any given survival scenario. To everyone else? Dick cannot do it. Incapable. Directionally challenged. You’d think a trapeze artist would know which way is up, but no. He gets it from his parents.
Dickiebird? Excellent manipulator. We know this. His family knows it. Some of his friends know it. They pray for any poor soul who has no idea how manipulative Dick can be. They watch in the distance disappointedly, knowing that Dick’s victim just thinks he’s an ordinary, honest, standup guy, all the while not even knowing that despite being aware of Dick’s true nature, they are being manipulated in equal measure.
Related side note: Good ol Richy? Incredible conversationalist. Everyone knows this. It’s his whole persona. Wears that fact on his sleeve. He always finds a way to make everyone feel like he’s interested in the conversation, even if he would rather die than talk about the current topic for a second longer. And this goes beyond just giving occasional sounds of acknowledgment and peppering words like “cool” or “yeah”. Someone could be talking about the most boring topic imaginable, and he’d have a dazzling smile on his face, his body language signifying that he’s completely engaged, will even ask proper clarifying questions in an attempt to learn more. When he exits the conversation, someone asks, “wow, are you really that fascinated by (insert inane topic)?” and while Dick’s smile doesn’t even falter, he immediately drops the pretense and says, “Oh, absolutely not. That was the most boring conversation I’ve ever had in my life.”
Dick Grayson has gotten this far in life because people consistently underestimate him. He’s made himself come across as juuust incompetent enough (in very particular ways that don’t compromise his image as a capable leader), leaving everyone absolutely fucking blindsided whenever he pulls the rug out from under them about what they thought he was capable of.
And we love him for it.
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ddarker-dreams · 5 months
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play fighting — chrollo lucilfer.
Hot cocoa is a staple when cooler weather starts setting in. 
By your reckoning, it could find a place on every tier of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. A warm, decadent cup with wisps of steam rising from the swirling surface. This mouthwatering mental image is what led you to the kitchenette. Dutifully following the package’s instructions, you rip into the chocolatey package by the serrated edge and get to work. 
All the while, a pair of inquisitive eyes track your every movement. You can’t imagine why the sight of you in fluffy pajamas pulling milk from the fridge has Chrollo’s rapt attention. He’s leaning against the counter, sipping on his own concoction. Earl gray tea, if the scent is of any indication. 
Your masterpiece is almost complete. Now, for the finishing touch — marshmallows. 
Alas. You’ve encountered a problem. The marshmallows are stored in a cabinet that evades your reach. To make matters worse, Chrollo has perched himself right where you’d need to climb up. Should you list clairvoyance among his many capabilities? Logically, you know that feat eludes him, but your suspicions remain.
“Is something the matter, dear?” 
Ah, you forgot that you’ve been silently squinting at him while the gears in your head spin. Round and round they go, never producing a viable solution. 
“No, not at all,” you dismiss. His gaze never leaves yours, even as he takes another sip of his drink. You can see it in his eyes, that ‘oh, really?’ look. You don’t appreciate that look, for you receive it often, thanks to your shenanigans. 
“Your drink’s getting cold,” he points out. 
Very astute of him. 
The way you see it, this can go a few ways. One, you could ask for his help in procuring your garnish. You could, but… he regards you with such bemusement, finding pleasure in every little thing you do. You’re tired of the court jester role. Asking him for something almost always guarantees that you’ll be putting on a metaphorical cap and bells. 
So you cling to your pride. You stand close enough for your shoulder to brush against his, as your target necessitates such sacrifice. Straining while on your tiptoes, your fingertips brush against the damnable cabinet handle, gold and mocking. Vigilant as your efforts are, they’re ultimately fruitless. Your prize remains just out of reach.
Huffing, you turn to face Chrollo, who has no right to look as innocent as he does. 
“Could you…” you trail off and shoo him with your hands. You hope that gets the message across. 
“Can I ask why? I feel perfectly content here.” 
Of course he does. 
You’re unsure what spurs on your next action. Pettiness? Irritation? Righteous anger? Who knows. You rest both your palms flat against his bicep and push, as if he were nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle, which, in truth, is a fitting description. He doesn’t so much as budge. The full weight of your body and strength combined amounts to nothing. You can’t comprehend how hard his muscles feel beneath his shirt, it’s like you’re touching a wall. 
Although it’s quiet, you hear it. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips. 
Your equilibrium is thrown into chaos as you go from your nice, secure spot on the floor to being lifted high. Two large hands settle right above your hips, holding you in place. Your reflexes kick in and you squirm. Fortunately, Chrollo’s grasp doesn’t falter. You realize what he’s getting at and make quick work of opening the cabinet and getting your stupid marshmallows. He brings you down. You only relax when your soles touch solid ground. 
Chrollo gives your hips a playful squeeze. 
“Try again,” he whispers near your ear.
You want nothing more than to scamper off, but his body envelops you, cutting off any escape. You’re caught between a rock and a hard place, clutching a bag of marshmallows, your Hello Kitty slippers askew.
You sigh.
Life certainly has its challenges. 
Should you start with elbowing him or stomping down on his feet…? 
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bratzforchris · 1 month
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Heeeyyyyy🎀
I have an idea👀
Matt x reader where she’s really scared of dogs and they go over to a mutual friends house and they have a dog (That reader somehow didn’t know about🤷🏽‍♀️😭) and Matt eases her into not being afraid anymore.
Puppy Love
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Summary: Above!!
Pairing: Matt x feminine reader (with surprise guests Jake and Johnnie :3)
Warnings: Fear of dogs, Jake being an oblivious little shit
Word Count: 872
A/N: Thank you for the request! Let me know if you guys would ever want more crossover type fics like this! Especially after this past weekend (if you know, you know) :)
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If there was one thing that you feared more than anything else, it was dogs. You knew it was irrational, but you’d had the fear since you were a small child, having been pushed over by a large dog at the park. For this reason, you and Matt had a little gray tabby kitten that you both considered your “child”. 
That didn’t mean other people didn’t have dogs, though. You usually tried to nonchalantly ask about people’s pets, terrified of either a) being judged or b) being shocked by a large animal you were unaware of. Matt knew about your fear, and thus, usually made sure the friends you hung out with were dog free or the pets were out of the house before you went over. 
Everyone was bound to make mistakes, though, and this was what happened on this particular day. You and Matt had agreed to go over to Jake and Johnnie’s house to film a teams video, in which you and your boyfriend would go against Jake and Johnnie in a gingerbread house building contest. You were quite excited for the day as Matt turned the car into the driveway of their LA house, humming along softly to a Dominic Fike song on the radio. 
“I’m excited,” You giggled as you both exited the car, walking towards the front door. The excitement didn’t last long, however, because you soon heard a bark from inside the house that caused you to stop in your tracks. You dropped Matt’s hand, looking up at him as your face paled. “Do they…have a dog?”
Matt’s face dropped as he looked at you, worry creasing his eyes. “Shit, baby. I forgot. I’m so sorry, honey. Let me text Jake and ask him if he can maybe put him in the backyard.”
But before Matt could send the message, Jake opened the door, smiling widely. “Hey guys!”
Behind him, was a large, white and black pitbull. The dog didn’t move, opting to sit by Jake’s feet, but he continued to bark like there was no tomorrow. You practically clung to Matt’s side, fear coursing through your body. He didn’t look aggressive, but his bark sure sounded like it. Johnnie appeared seemingly out of nowhere next to Jake and the dog, surveying the situation. 
“Is something wrong?” he asked. 
Jake had been oblivious to your and Matt’s silence, but Johnnie was much more observant. He took one look at your fearful face and the way your nails were digging into Matt’s bicep while he gently rubbed your back. You looked up as Matt shifted, an anxious look on his face. 
“Y/N isn’t…crazy about dogs.” he mumbled quietly, not wanting to embarrass you. 
“Shredder’s chill, dude.” Jake chuckled, opening the door wider so you two could step in. 
“The dog’s name is Shredder?” 
If you weren’t anxious before, you definitely were now. The dog was huge and muscular, with a name that made him sound even more malicious. Even though he hadn’t moved, simply wagging his tail against the floor as Johnnie pet him, you were still frozen with fear. Matt gently rubbed your side, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, before holding his hand out for the dog to sniff. 
“Hey, sweet boy.” Matt smiled, ever the animal lover. 
The dog whined happily, straining against Johnnie’s hold on his spiked collar. 
“He’s not aggressive,” Johnnie smiled at you kindly. “He doesn’t jump either. He mostly just likes to be pet.”
“Dude’s a lazy ass bitch.” Jake snorted as you and Matt finally stepped inside the house, closing the door behind you. 
Johnnie rolled his eyes, but allowed Matt to continue petting the dog. “Says you.”
Matt ignored the boy’s banter, keeping a watchful eye on you. He didn’t want you to be scared, so he was hoping maybe him showing you how sweet the pup was would ease your fear. “Do you wanna pet him?” he asked you softly. 
You nodded timidly, eyes wide with fear. “I’ll, um, try…I guess.” You whispered. 
You softly put your hand out, allowing Shredder to sniff you and all your scents. To your surprise, he didn’t try to lunge for you the way he had Matt. He just butted his head against your hand, a happy grunt escaping his mouth as his tongue flopped out to the other side. You smiled, looking to Matt for confirmation. 
Your boyfriend smiled, happy to see you conquering fears. “I think he likes you.”
Johnnie eased his hold on the dog’s collar, nodding to Jake as Shredder trotted over to your side. rather than be overly wild, the pup simply rubbed against your legs, panting happily. Matt smiled, holding your hand, just to make sure you weren’t any more anxious than you had to be. 
“I love him.” You giggled after a moment. 
Sure, you had been scared at first, but Matt never failed to calm your fears. You knew he would never allow you to get hurt and that he would always protect you, and for that, you were forever grateful. 
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence @sunsetsturniolos @strnlvr @stingerayyy2
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