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#young me was in awe (and traumatized)
acecroft · 1 year
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STEVEN WEBER as Jack Torrance in The Shining (Part Two) 1997
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mariatesstruther · 5 months
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Even though it’s very obvious because JJ is like 6 month old minimum, until I saw the ask you go I completely forgot how much time passes after Seattle and before Ellie goes off again and like, we all grieve but why the hell would anyone have an issue with Dina or Maria for leaving Ellie and Tommy when it’s been so long since Joel’s death and they’re still losing sleep over Abby.
Thanks to whoever sent that ask because it just reminded me of how long it was and now I can only think of the shit the two of them went through (especially new mum Dina) trying to help Ellie and Tommy move on before they finally put themselves first
right!!!! like to that anon, u went off. what a point you made
call me whatever nasty things yall want, but i’d probably peace out after a MAX of a year of that shit—let alone after EIGHTEEEEEEEN MONTTTTTHHHSSS. as a parent, probably even go sonner than that with our child in tow
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quakiebaka · 11 months
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I always think of the "kiss me until I forget my own name" line in a hurt/comfort context. as in: established relationship between A and B. A is going through a lot/had a bad day/etc and they just want comfort from B. A doesn't want to talk about it. thinking is too much at the moment. A asks the line, B obliges gently and makes sure A is doing okay, trying to get them to sleep. (bonus if they were longtime friends who pined for years. also they're engaged and the reason A was crying was work related. aka the hospital caught on fire. again.)
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kiss-me-muchoo · 4 months
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𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. It’s a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ hear this along Can’t catch me now, I’m not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didn’t? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CAN’T BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE
♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
_____________________________________________
Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.
Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.
You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.
Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.
“Everything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.” A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.
“The only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?”
The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.
“Miss y/l/n… Are you okay?” The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lot…” the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.
“I’m giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work here” he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.
After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.
“Thank you, Trevor” he starts the car soon after.
“Is everything okay?” You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.
“I just need to relax and eat well.” Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.
“Good. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This woman…uh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy today” you frown to look at him confused.
“Oh? So… Can we go now?” He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.
And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.
It’s the first time you step inside the Capitol’s University. It’s very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. There’s a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.
Since it’s summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.
You couldn’t wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus.
What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.
Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.
“Glad to see you breathing, miss y/l/n…” somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.
“As you can see.” You reply standing perfectly correct.
“By this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snow” goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.
“He was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the games”
“Indeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.” You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.
“That’s not any of my business anymore.” Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.
“Well, since it seems you both parted ways… I must share that I’m deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snow” honestly, you don’t know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.
However, you stick to your parent’s advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.
“I understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesn’t jeopardize my grant” she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.
“Of course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that I’ll hardly let go.” The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.
“Good.”
“In fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.” From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.
“Is it a possible option to be working in behalf of my mother’s institution?”
“You’re very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snow” your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.
“I just want to make my family’s name bigger than it already is” the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.
“I assume you’ll pursue the arts as you’re speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with me” when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. It’s the admission letter.
“I expect to see you here by the end of the summer” you nod, thanking her.
And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You don’t even remember the doctor’s appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.
Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadn’t had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows he’s in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He can’t hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He must’ve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.
Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.
He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasn’t come up. And he’s a peacekeeper in District 12.
It’s been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.
Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesn’t. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.
He missed you. Painfully a lot.
Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.
When the sun rise, he’s up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and they’re out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, he’s able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.
That’s when he dreams of seeing there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And that’s when he knows he’s so fucked up.
But that’s long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, he’s on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.
After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol.
“They’re probably waiting for some women. That’s why the always start that thing” Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side. He smiled at her.
“To see women?” She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.
“You know who are men around her” with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.
“See? What’s that thing by the way?” When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked.
It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. It was the fact that you were getting in pose to start a performance.
Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.
There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelet on your arms. But the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives. One on each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.
He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.
She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasn’t over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.
But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where they’d put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.
But he finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.
With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying look what you lost.
He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.
Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a man’s faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, who’s over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, straight knees, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.
Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.
“I’m sorry I left like that” he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine woman could have on men. Especially on the one who was her lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.
“It’s okay. I told you she was very pretty before” Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.
It had come to the point where he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.
For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.
Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.
You didn’t said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.
Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before August accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey could’ve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He would’ve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years would’ve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.
But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.
He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back the woman he loved.
Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two.
His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.
The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.
But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.
After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.
“Everyone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I just have my voice…” Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.
“Is it like… exclusive in the Capitol?”
“I think so. Today there’s only one institution, the mother of…” he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.
“…y/n?” She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.
“Her mother founded it?”
“It was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friends” he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldn’t see him smiling.
Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandma’am was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.
“Grandma’am even started planting pink roses for her.” It slipped out automatically, he couldn’t control it.
“She’s like ink…” Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint he’d ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.
And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.
That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.
He’s going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.
However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.
There isn’t an exact period over the Capitol that can’t be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandma’am back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldn’t get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.
However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.
Tigris said she hadn’t seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.
Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldn’t be bad to use the mornings to walk.
In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.
After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. It’s smaller but probably the mots interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful painting on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.
Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. He’s already approaching the girls.
“Excuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?” The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.
“She’s rehearsing now. It’s on the second floor, you’ll hear the music…” he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.
She wasn’t lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. It’s a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror he’d ever seen.
The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.
There you are, with a coral tutu, black leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.
He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldn’t help but think how much your family’s name have growth since he left.
He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding.
People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesn’t know what to say to you.
“Coriolanus?” When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see with short sleeves but turtleneck.
“Clemensia” he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.
“Since when you returned?” He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.
“Some weeks ago.” Clemensia looks like she’s analyzing every movement and word of him.
“Why are you here?” Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.
“I made the promise to come back for y/n…” the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.
“She doesn’t need this, Coriolanus. She can’t have this” Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didn’t deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.
“I know, Clemmie. I won’t be a burden for her” the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that it’s not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.
“I hope so. Because you already failed her once…” his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.
Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.
She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.
“Bless your food.”
“Bless your food” you reply back to her.
“So, How it went the rehearsal?” You roll your eyes giggling.
“It was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see me” your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didn’t enjoy a lot of attention.
“Are they still at the Academy” you nod.
“Rich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of course” Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.
“Coriolanus was looking for you…” you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.
“What?”
“Apparently he’s back.” She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.
“How? He was exiled” you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.
“Gaul. He’s her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead now…” it must’ve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.
“Doesn’t matter, I won’t let this get into my way” she smiles.
“What about what your father said?” During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you weren’t sure.
Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon you’ll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity you’re talking about.
From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you can’t just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.
“I still don’t know how I feel about him.”
“Are you still in contact with his family?” You remember Tigris and Grandma’am.
“Not as much as I used to”
“Mhm. Did they ever learned what happened?” You sigh.
“Just that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.”
“With him back… probably you’ll find out sooner than later” Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.
Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.
The first time you see him, it’s at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. He’s very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.
Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.
You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you cam’s help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, it’s not on your power to mend their lives. Just as it’s not their case to judge your life.
And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there must’ve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hide from you.
You pretend you’re looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesn’t see you though, and you thank it.
A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.
And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, it’s them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.
That’s the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.
Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.
A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because it’s the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.
“Is your mother inviting Coriolanus?” Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes.
“I hope not. I haven’t even spoken with him ever since he came back” everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.
“Because he is courting Livia apparently” Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasn’t the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.
“Why Livia?” Clemmie asks laughing.
“Perhaps it’s becase how naïve she is”
“Or because of her father’s inheritance” you add.
“I don’t think so. He’s now the heir of the Plinth fortune” Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.
“He’s dancing on Sejanus’ grave” your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.
“Ambitious and annoying. Just like his father…” Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.
“How unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldn’t be talking bad things about him behind his back” you sigh at Clemensia’s words.
“Speaking of the king…” when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.
After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there.
“Yeah. He would’ve been seated beside me right now. But he picked the songbird before me. At least he’s refining himself a little bit with Livia” your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation. But you’re gone, and Coriolanus curses himself for not walking faster.
When he makes it to the table, Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.
“Did I missed something?” He asks.
“You had an affair with your tribute?” Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.
His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.
“And now she knows about you and Livia” Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.
“There’s no Livia and I” He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.
“Oh but everyone believes so. That you’re courting her…” he rolls his eyes, annoyed.
“I’m just talking to her because we’re partner for some stupid research” the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.
“Do me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bed” Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.
So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, he’s still hurting you.
“I won’t lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good day” he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.
He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.
There’s a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.
Your mother’s assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.
“Is everything okay, miss y/n?” You turn to look a the woman.
“I accidentally threw the jar. Sorry…” Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your mother’s confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?
“I’ll call the maids. Don’t worry” she says looking back at you.
“Thanks Millie.” She smiles, closing the door behind.
You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph there’s your name too. But you don’t dare to see why.
You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but you’re still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.
It’s almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.
Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.
The first chance you had, you would take it.
While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.
You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. There’s three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.
However, you quickly look away to smile at the man who’s sitting behind the chair.
“Good morning.” Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.
“Good morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to send” he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.
“I can, just let me go and print the form. It won’t take too long…” you smile again, letting him go outside the office.
As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.
Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.
You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You don’t know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.
You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandma’am saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you can’t help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.
He doesn’t deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others you’ll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandma’am happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You don’t feel nothing as you do it.
In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.
Coriolanus swears he didn’t intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.
The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldn’t say no.
Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, there’s more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Coriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!” His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.
“I ran into him at the bank. Where’s y/n, dear?” Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.
“That girl. I haven’t seen her out of her room since midday” the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.
“I’m here” you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.
“Look who I found earlier” you sigh, standing straight.
“I see.” Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.
“We’re having dinner…” you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.
“I can’t stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner party” they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.
“Are you meeting with Jan before?” Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you don’t know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, yet very handsome. And you wished he wasn’t off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.
“Can you at least stay for some drinks?” You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.
His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.
“Unless you want me to do horrible at the Winter gala, no. I cannot stay, mother” she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.
“Well, that’s fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.” You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.
You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.
“You look lovely” he says, breaking the ice.
“Thank you.”
It’s the first time you two talk since months ago.
“I heard you want to start your political campaign” you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.
“I did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess it’ll give me more time to focus on university.” You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.
“Anyways… How you’ve been?”
“I’m fine, Coriolanus.” the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.
“Who is Jan?” He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him
“No one of your business, Snow” you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.
“You know, I just hoped that… you know. Maybe we could start off again… like friends of course” you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.
“Miss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for you” the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.
“I don’t think there’s a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.” You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears he’s about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.
But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.
“You know where the dinning table room is.” And with that, you are gone.
Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.
That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.
Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.
You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.
“I came as soon as I could” Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.
“You look very pretty” she thanks you.
“But look at you. You are going to be amazing.” She sits and both start gossiping.
“Your father invited Coriolanus.” It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.
“I’m… not sure if I don’t feel anything about him” Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.
“The newspaper rumour affected you. Right?” Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Something he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.
“I can’t blame you. I was there since the beginning…” your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.
“You two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him” Clemmie goes to hug you.
“Pa’ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But I’m tired, I just want to heal” she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.
“You want my advice?” You nod.
“Do not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, you’lo find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or not”
A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.
You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.
Grandma’am and Tigris didn’t know what flowers to cut.
Good luck.
You try to hide your smile. But it’s impossible.
The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.
“I talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this one” Tigris says. Coriolanus knows she’s talking about you.
“She’s always perfect, she shouldn’t feel nervous.” His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your mother’s institution. It made him mad.
“Have you thought about inviting her to have dinner?” Coriolanus shakes his head.
“Not yet, I haven’t talked enough to her”
“Well, hurry up. Grandma’am wanted to see you married by the age of 20” she says laughing. But it doesn’t make Coriolanus smile.
“Oh look, it’s starting” Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.
For the first twenty minutes, he’s so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.
It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.
Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesn’t help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesn’t enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.
His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.
It’s a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didn’t need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldn’t let it move forward.
His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.
He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.
Maybe.
Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.
So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Jan’s clothes.
“You took very long at the restroom” Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.
“There was a long line”
This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.
Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But it’s Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.
“Coriolanus.” You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.
“You were amazing. As usual, of course”
“Thank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of course” he’s so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels… warm, and natural.
“It’s nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?” Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“Yeah, we could.” He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.
And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things he’d done were worth it.
“I-…” but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize it’s Jan’s room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.
He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.
You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.
Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. He’s dead.
And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.
“Go and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?” You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.
When you don’t know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.
As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.
With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing he’s already slowly winning.
Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.
Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.
“I’m sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenly” he doesn’t feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.
“He was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.” Coriolanus coughs. He wasn’t expecting that. Something twisted inside him, but he still didn’t regret or feel sorry.
“He didn’t seem the type to use narcotics…he must’ve been very stressed out” you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Jan’s murderer.
“Are you sure you are okay?” You roll your eyes sighing.
“No. I’m not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony day”
“I’m just trying to be here for you” he admits, and it’s your breaking point.
“WHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!” He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.
“I know I committed many errors but-��
“BUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.” You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.
“You violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that nobody girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?” You won’t tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldn’t before at his face.
“Do you know how many doctor appointments I’ve had since you left?” He looks down.
“Twelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And who’s fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, you” when he looks up at you again, you are crying.
“If you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.” You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.
That wasn’t your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.
But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Y/n?”
“Tigris?” You ask. Her voice sounding worried.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Is everything okay? You sound alarmed, dear” you are able to hear her sighing.
“It’s Grandma’am. She’s sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasn’t appeared” your heart beats faster.
“She has a strong fever and it’s been like that for hours.” She adds, finally sounding more worried.
“Tigris, calm down. I’ll call my cousin, he’s one of the most prepared doctors around. I’m going there with you in the meantime” you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.
“Thank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thanks you.” You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.
You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.
You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandma’am. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you can’t think about drinking at the time.
The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadn’t see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.
“Y/n?” He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.
“Tigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmother” he worried a bit.
“Is she not feeling better. When I left she seemed better…” he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.
“Don’t. My cousin is already there with her. I’m waiting for the results” Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.
“You look very lovely” you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.
“Really? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?” He smiles.
“You told me to wait. What else can I do?”
“How cynical of you” you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.
The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.
He revealed Grandma’am was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.
After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.
You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.
“Y/n. Wait…” Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.
“I-… Thank you.” She slowly says hugging you.
“It’s nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I love” Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.
“He still loves you so much.” You fight harder against the tears when she says that.
“I know. And I still love him too. But… he never apologized. And I’m not ready to let go my resentment towards him.” You admit looking away.
“Although things did’t work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/n” se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.
“I feel the same, Tigris. I really do” you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.
“I’ll come back in some days” she nods.
She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.
He never apologized.
That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.
“Coriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephone” you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.
“Yes, Mr. Snow?” You ask.
“I just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to and yet you appeared here” you sigh.
“Whatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your mother” now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.
“About that y/n…” your hands go numb, and panic floods you.
“You don’t know how much I’m-“
“I know.” You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.
“Sorry” he says through the dead line.
That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. You’d never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.
A week later you’re applauding for Grandma’am as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.
It’s getting late, and you must return to your house.
After wishing Grandma’am sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.
“I must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some things” she frowns, stopping to put some places on the dinning table.
“Pack?”
“Yes. I think I’ll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and she’s going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay there” Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.
“What? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger games” you shrug with an honest smile.
“Lately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to heal” Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.
“CORIOLANUS!” Grandma’am calls the man. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you stay talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldn’t before.
“Is everything alright, Grandma’am?” The elder woman looks at him from her bed.
“Are you really letting that young woman to walk away again?” Coriolanus frowns.
“What?”
“You’ve heard me.” Even in her sick days, she was firm.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Grandma’am shrugs.
“I don’t think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.” Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself that’s what he missed the most.
“I think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.” His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.
“What do you suggest me to do?” Grandma’am smiles, coughing tiredly.
“You run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and you’ll never do it again”
“You already won the money and respect. You’re just missing out the girl” Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.
“Go. Get her back, Coriolanus” without saying anything back, he leaves.
When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.
“Where’s y/n?” She shrugs, taking a seat.
“She just left.”
Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.
“Y/N!” He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.
You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.
And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.
“Coriolanus Snow. What are you doing?” You ask confused and blushed.
“I’m sorry.” He says.
“I’m sorry about all the stupid things I did. I’m sorry about letting you down. I’m sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to you” you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.
“I can’t lose you again. Because I know you’re the last person I’ll love. I won’t trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothing” you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know he’s not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.
“If you let me. To give me another chance. I’ll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. You’ll be the only person I’ll cherish and show love.” He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.
You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But aren’t the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and that’s the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.
“Please don’t go, y/n” he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.
“You’ll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, then” he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.
“I promise, I swear” he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.
Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.
It’s in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.
Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.
The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.
But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.
After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.
By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.
Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.
But everything seemed fine.
“Dear, Are you ready?” You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.
“Just one moment” you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.
Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.
As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.
“Remind me what are we doing here?” You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.
“I’m assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dear” you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husband’s physic.
“You’re going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone here” he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.
“Thank goddess I’ve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury me” Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.
“Men around here don’t know how smart my wife is” he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.
“Do not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.” You firmly say to him.
“Of course not, my love”
“Love you.” And with one last kiss, you walk away.
For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.
He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.
It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.
In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You can’t ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.
You knock swiftly on his door.
“Come in.” You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.
“Hello, you.” he says cheekily.
“Hello, you’.” You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.
“Are you coming to bed anytime soon?” You ask.
“I just need to sign some things, darling” he watches you frown, and he won’t say you look older, because you don’t. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.
“I’ve been thinking about the games” He’s all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.
“What about them?”
“I would never ask you to stop the games. But…” you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
“But what, my dear?”
“Don’t you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who don’t even understand everything that conveys a war.” Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.
“What are you suggesting?” He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.
“I don’t know… Maybe giving them more opportunities?” He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.
“Giving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellion” this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.
“Not like that, Coryo. I mean… raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before they’re sent to die” Coriolanus would always believe that you’re only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.
So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.
So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.
“I could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?” You nod on his lips, smiling.
“Now let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get there” he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do now” you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.
“This is madness. I’m going to bed” you say getting out of his office.
“Don’t forget about what I said!” He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husband’s petition.
The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.
You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.
Grandma’am made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.
You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.
“Have you packed everything?” Tigris asks.
“Yes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to come” you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.
“Have you told him?” You shake your head at the woman.
“Not yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from there” Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.
“Sorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliers” Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.
“Dinner isn’t ready yet anyways” you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.
“You shouldn’t be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife must’ve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to say” Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.
“It’s not that, Tigris. It’s the time that’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be gone for almost two months.” You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.
“Each district will host you with all commodities” it’s a lie. Coriolanus isn’t ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But he’s willing to play pretend very well for you.
“It’s going to be fine. Pardon me, dart” Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that she’s probably wondering the same as him. And that’s the least he needs of.
You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. It’s a great dinner actually.
Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.
You could’ve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didn’t because you are not a good person either.
Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.
You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesn’t get into your way. Nothing can be a bother. Not when Coriolanus Snow’s first child rests peacefully in your womb.
The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like… a hatred road.
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fyi, in my head, if reader hadn’t delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion would’ve started earlier and probably it wouldn’t have been successful. (Basically it would’ve been like a second time “dark days” situation and then back to reconstruction again)
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revenantghost · 9 months
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Man, I think the best and worst part of Knives’s character is just how compelling he is*
I get it. You get it. We all understand exactly how and why he is the way he is. So many people have put this idea into better words than I could. He witnessed an unspeakable horror at an incredibly young age. He knew he was different, that he was other, and a worry set deeply into his bones that humanity would reject him for being born who he is. 
And he was right. It was so much worse than he could have ever realized. He was born to be an object for humanity to use as they see fit. All he wanted was love and peace for himself and his brother. And after seeing that? What they did so mercilessly to Tesla? Who can blame him for not believing in any future with humanity in it. Who can imagine a future without unbelievable strife and prejudice when you’re outnumbered and are seen as an item to dissect and toy with as you see fit
And yet
And yet
In his fear, in his need to control and correct, the cycle continues. The abused becomes the abuser. He assaults his brother multiple times. He takes away Vash’s autonomy and manipulates his body without his consent. Hell he happily experiments with/tests and uses Vash’s body while unconscious. He says he loves Vash while refusing to hear a word coming out of his mouth. Because, if he has a moment of doubt, any hint of weakness, all of that anger slips away and he becomes that boy again--afraid and weak and alone
In his fear, he takes plants. He strips them of their independence and will, denying them their souls. Again, he uses the bodies of his siblings against their will. He displays their corpses to keep him angry instead of putting them to rest. He kills and breaks apart the body of his sister so that he doesn’t have to die, so that he can be reborn. He willfully denies the thoughts, dreams, and pains of his sisters and instead absorbs them, impregnates them, tries to kill them in the “right” way
In his fear, he drove humanity into hurting his kind more. He forced their hand into injuring and killing more plants than they’d ever dreamed of harming. He’s the one that put Vash into a constant position where he’s gaining mountains of scars. (His brother who, on the opposite end of the spectrum, has let the cycle of abuse continue while using himself as a shield instead of breaking free from the pattern.) He uses and discards the humans near him no matter the kindness and devotion they shows him
The same behavior Knives shows everybody and everything else
He’s awful. Absolutely sick and perverted and so stuck in his own mind that all he does is hurt and hurt and hurt
And yet
I get it. I’ve been traumatized to the point where all I want to do is cause pain in return. To feel that justice can exist and will come to pass, no matter the cost. To be so afraid that anger is the only safe emotion you can cling to. It’s what makes him one of the most compelling antagonists I’ve ever seen. Kudos to Nightow for fucking me up about Knives and his pain more by the day, honestly
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*Except for ‘98 Knives lmao, that man is fabulously unhinged and overly dramatic about everything and I love him for it
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clockwayswrites · 4 months
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Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29
WC 2500, Masterpost
A Press of the Button:
An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice
By Clark Kent
“I’m going to throw up.”
I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.
“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.
When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.
Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.
As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.
Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.
Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.
Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.
And survived.
It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.
Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.
Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”
Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.
“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.
When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”
The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.
We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.
“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”
“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”
“I take it you two are close then?”
“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”
“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”
“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”
It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.
Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”
“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”
“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”
“How did your parents take that?”
A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”
“The lab?”
“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”
By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.
“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”
“But you thought that you might survive.”
“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.
Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.
“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”
When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.
“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.
“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.
“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”
I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.
“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”
“And then Jason was on the screen.”
“Yeah.”
“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”
“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”
“Why?”
“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”
While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.
I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”
Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?
“Danny, what did you mean?”
“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.
I ask about that certainty.
Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”
What about the chance of survival?
“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”
“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”
“Absolutely.”
And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.
“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”
I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”
So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.
“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”
“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”
And now?
“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”
Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.
“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”
I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.
---
AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.
I hope you enjoy it!
I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!
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amberlynnmurdock · 4 months
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Here
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Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: Matt saves his wife from being held hostage by Fisk's men and helps her with the PTSD that comes from it.
From this request from an anon named melted butter!
I hope you like it, anon friend!
Warnings: brief mentions of violence, hostage situation, PTSD symptoms, heavy angst in the beginning
Words: 2.7k
Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude
There would never come a day when she wouldn’t associate that song with blood, torture, and darkness. 
There would never come a day when she wouldn’t remember the cloth wrapped around her eyes that felt like sandpaper on her skin and the way her head pounded from the tightness of the blindfold. She could still feel it sometimes—unprompted moments of weakness when she would put on a hat or earmuffs in the winter and the feeling of something being wrapped around her head transported her to that awful night. She’d rather leave the beanie and earmuffs at home and risk her head getting cold than be reminded of that torture. 
It was the way she hesitated to put on gloves because if her wrists felt too constricted she would be reminded of the way the rope burned her skin so badly it left scars. She’d leave those at home too, and risk dry and cold hands. 
“Sweetheart,” Matt said earnestly, wrapping his hands around her cold ones. “Your hands are so cold. Why didn’t you put on gloves?”
She didn’t reply—she just let Matt continue to warm her hands with his. She preferred it that way. She preferred him to feel the scars around her wrists than her to look at them. 
Ever since that night, she took the coldest showers. Every shower was an ice-cold one. The place they had her held hostage in was stuffy—hot. She remembers her own sweat dripping down her face and the salt burning her eyes even under the blindfold. She can’t feel too hot anymore or else she will again be transported back to that traumatizing night. 
And the song—that fucking song. 
She wasn’t sure if it was a torture tactic or if the Kingpin had requested it be played. The only thing that mattered was that they kept it on repeat, at a loud volume—so loud she could hardly hear her voice when they would ask her a question about Daredevil. 
“I don’t know,” she cried behind her blindfold. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I—“
SLAP!
The violins started to feel like her head was being woven in torturous ways. The sound filled her senses similarly to how cough syrup fills one's senses—bitterness from the smell to the taste on the tip of her tongue. It was nauseating to listen to the song over, and over, and over, and over again. Nauseating to be in a situation like she had just two months ago: alone, in pain, and scared. So very scared that she may not make it. 
Until he found her. He told her he would always find her. 
She didn’t know he was there until the music finally stopped playing, and the lights in the warehouse went out. She was blindfolded but the way the men started yelling about the lights told her everything she needed to know. She was shaking against the wall, sweating, trying to find that relief she should feel that Daredevil had come to her rescue—but even that couldn’t shake off her fear. 
“If you ever get taken from me,” Matt had whispered to her one night in bed as he fiddled with the diamond ring on her finger, “know I will find you. And when you know I’m there, I want you to whisper to me like I am now. Because I’ll hear you and I’ll come to you.”
She whispered to him as soon as she heard the music stop and Fisk’s men were shouting at each other. 
“Matthew,” she hushed even lower than a whisper, “Matthew. Matt…”
Matt has dealt with a lot of dark situations as Daredevil, even before he donned the name and had a red suit. Years ago, he saved a little boy from a Russian gang. He saved a group of young girls from trafficking. He has dealt with the worst criminals in this city and it never got easier. All he could do was save people. He just never bet on the fact that one day he would have to save her.
It was something they talked about before deciding to get married. After months of convincing himself he could never have a life like that, she told him that God didn’t put him on this earth to only bear other people’s burdens. God meant for him to have a life like everyone else—a life that included love and marriage. He agreed on one condition: that it be an intimate small wedding at Clinton Church. And by intimate, only Foggy, Karen, and Marci were invited. 
He never wanted to prepare for a situation like this. He never wanted this day to come. He never pondered on what protocols to teach her if someone were to take her—but after months of avoiding the subject, he thought that was still important in case the situation ever did come. And unfortunately, it finally did come. 
He remembers how still the apartment was when he came home—how silent and cold it was. She hadn’t been home since the morning, he could tell. Icicles started to form on the back of his neck when he realized he hadn’t received a call from her since she left work—which was over an hour ago. Matt felt weak in the knees suddenly. He had to support himself on the kitchen counter as he focused his senses on noises outside of the apartment. 
“Dear God,” Matt whispered, “please keep her safe until I find her. Please help me find her.”
The whispers didn’t last long, nor the prayers—soon, Matt was throwing a rage in the apartment. Shattered glass was on the floor. Broken plates. Matt’s agonizing scream when reality finally settled in him that she was taken from him—by who? There was only one possibility. 
In no time he changed into his Daredevil gear and was prowling the streets, rooftop to rooftop, to find where they had been keeping her hostage.
A warehouse by the pier. He could hear the classical music playing at an incredible volume, enough to hurt her ears and get in her head. As soon as Matt found the source of the music, he shut it off, along with the power. 
And then he let the devil out. 
He thought with his fists before using logic to fight these cronies—throwing punches and brutally throwing men over his shoulders, hitting them relentlessly with whatever weapon he found near him. His billy club wires wrapped around someone's neck so tight it made them pass out, using the metal billy club to throw right in another man’s face. Matt moved recklessly in the dark. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs so loudly it would feel like his chest was ripping apart but he didn’t because he knew she had experienced enough yelling on this night. 
And then, he heard her. 
“Matthew,” she whispered so quietly, it almost missed Matt’s senses. “Matthew… Matt…”
As soon as he made sure all of the men were out, he rushed to her side. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, he was shaking from it. He knelt before her and took off his gloves. 
“Hey,” he cooed, “it’s okay. I’m here. I found you,” and Matt’s voice was wobbly in his throat, tears threatening his eyes but no—he needed to be strong for her. He didn’t know what she endured—quite frankly, didn’t want to know—but he knew it had been a lot on her mentally. She was sobbing. He’d never heard her like this. The blindfold was wrapped so tightly around her eyes. Matt gently untied it and slid it off. He then smelt something metallic in the air—salty. It was blood. Her blood was around her wrists. Matt choked a sob in his chest as he untied her wrists. He could sense the tight friction of a bruise forming on her cheek. 
“I found you,” Matt’s voice cracked—he couldn’t help it. He was a wreck inside to find her like this. In pain, scared, alone. No—not alone anymore, he was here. “It’s okay now.” He gathered her delicate frame in his arms, holding her against his body tightly but not crushing her, and ran his hands through her hair, hushing her cries. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I have you now. They can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here.” 
Matt wasn’t sure what was more traumatizing for him—finding her in that situation or hearing her cries after, and the months that would follow. 
It made him question if marrying her was the right decision.
Despite these small things bringing her back to that dreadful night, there was one positive thing that she would never forget either: the feeling when she saw Daredevil—Matt—kneeling before her and gently pulling her blindfold off. The warm wash of relief that spread in her chest was so unexplainable, she could only feel it again if she really put her mind to it. It was like a warm, safe embrace when she knew Matt had found her like he said he would. She could describe the sensation as putting on a weighted blanket. 
The image of his red Daredevil helmet is ingrained in her mind: it was him against that dark warehouse. It was the glow of the red mask that brought so much comfort to her. She was safe. He had finally come—finally found her. God knows how hard it was to locate her. She was so relieved, that all she could do was sob into his embrace. 
It didn’t get easier when they finally made it home, it only got harder. 
She lay in his bed with tear-stained cheeks. It hurt to move. It hurt to speak. She could only whisper. Matt was still in his Daredevil suit, helmet off. He paced the room anxiously, wondering how this could’ve happened, how he could have let this happen. He was thinking of every possibility and what he was going to do next—
“Matthew,” she wheezed as she watched him pace the room. “Matthew.”
He stopped instantly, bringing his attention to her. She was in so much pain, he could sense it from where he stood. It brought a strange heaviness on his shoulders. He knelt again beside the bed and took her hands in his, kissing each knuckle.
“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispered, tears falling down his cheeks—tears of sadness, tears of rage. “I’m so sorry—“
“Shh,” she hushed him. She wasn’t crying anymore. She didn’t think she had any left. “Just be here with me. I need to feel you here with me.” 
Matt took off his Daredevil suit and silently crawled into bed next to her. He carefully brought her close to him so she was snug against his chest. Safe in his arms, nothing could hurt her now.
Months have passed. It’s a bright cold day. 
She and Matt are on their way to their favorite coffee spot uptown. They hardly ever leave Hell’s Kitchen, but she was in the mood for a specific hazelnut latte that only Rosie’s could make. And if it would make her happy to travel almost twenty minutes uptown for a cup of coffee, well, Matt wasn’t going to argue. 
He never brought up that night unless she did. So when she opted to wear a beanie and put on gloves, Matt couldn’t help but feel lighter in his step from the happiness he felt: she was on her way to healing from that experience. He felt like he could forgive himself now. 
“Ready?” She asked at the door, clearly too excited to get this cup. Matt laughed and kissed her before answering. He was so incredibly happy that she seemed to be happy again. 
“Ready.”
The coffee shop had wooden floors and matching wooden tables. In the back was a small bookstore, and on the side the place had a coffee counter. Soft jazz music was playing. Some people were already settled in: a man had his headphones on and was typing aggressively on his laptop, and a young college girl was studying her books. Matt sensed his surroundings everywhere they went to make sure there were no threats.
“Why don’t you go look at the books while I order our coffee,” Matt suggested lightly, untying the gray scarf around his neck. 
“Okay,” she smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go and exploring the back of the cafe. 
Matt waited in line at the coffee counter and sighed contently. 
She immediately was drawn to the fantasy books section. She took off her gloves and placed them in the pocket of her coat. Scanning each title, she picked one out that piqued her interest and frowned when the summary wasn’t what she expected. Another title made her laugh, but she didn’t bother to read the back. She found herself in a different section—romance. She smiled as she glazed over each book spine with her fingers. Romance books always reminded her of Matt. She often imagined what their story would look like in a romance novel. 
And then she heard it. 
Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude
The violins sounded like nails on a chalkboard, bloody fingertips leaving a trail. It sounded like a screech against the pavement. 
It suddenly felt like she no longer was standing in the middle of an aisle of books. Instead, her body was being pulled and sucked into a black hole behind her. Everything around her felt overwhelmingly large and she was small, like she was Alice. Fear crept over her heart like a spider weaving its web. She felt hot in her jacket. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest like a punching bag. 
The song got louder. And louder. And louder. 
“No,” she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tightly. But closing her eyes and seeing darkness only made it worse. “No…” she opened her eyes and felt like she had tunnel vision. 
Matt was standing in line when he heard something pounding loudly in his ears. It only took him a second to hear the song that was playing, and he was immediately looking around for her. The pounding was coming from her—from her heart. 
In no time Matt was by her side, wrapping his arms around her and quickly walking her outside the cafe—away from the lingering glances, away from that horrible song. Removing her from the triggering situation, knowing she was spiraling. 
She was breathing fast now from panic. Matt brought her into a quiet alley and wrapped her in a bear hug, holding her tightly against him. Her hair covered his face as he turned to breathe in her scent. He took a deep breath, and at the same time, motioned for her to breathe with him. 
“I’m here,” he said into her ear softly, “I have you. Breathe with me, okay?”
“Okay,” she managed to say between breaths, feeling like her own air was choking her. She breathed with Matt and closed her eyes, his touch and warm hug bringing her back to reality. 
“Listen to my voice,” Matt guided, “I’m here. I have you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Matt’s voice was always soothing to her, but especially at a moment like this. His voice sounded like how velvet felt. 
Eventually, just standing in his arms holding her tightly, her breathing returned to normal and that song was out of her head, as were her memories of that night. A few silent moments passed. Matt kissed her head softly and held her longer. He’d hold her for as long as she needed. When she was finally okay, she pulled back and reached her lips to kiss Matt’s. He kissed her in return and placed his hands on her face. 
“I’ll always be here for you,” Matt whispered. 
Matt went inside to get their coffee while she waited for him outside. Soon enough, they were back at the apartment, finishing the last of their drinks and sitting on the couch. She rested her head in his lap and Matt drew circles in her hair, counting the breaths it took for her to fall asleep. He’d of course be there when she woke up. 
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weebsinstash · 4 months
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something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all
it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?
Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred
Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates
Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in
Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)
It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular
And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-
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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
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Things We Deserve
Summary: Astarion re-lives one of the traumatic episodes of his life, and considers himself unworthy of love.
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, f!tav, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse
TW: a mild description of forced prostitution
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Thanks @satanicspinosaurus for your help! I live for your commentaries on ethical issues.
It is on the same corner of the street in the Lower City. Again.
A young elf is looking for a “client”. It's not difficult — he has soft white curls, a gentle smile, the body sculptured by some elven god. A glance, two, some nice words — and there is a night of passion ahead.
A half-orc, almost twice as big as the elf, grabs his chin and studies his face as if Astarion is an inanimate object. Then orders to lift up his shirt. The client looks at him with the same expression as if he were buying a horse. 
His hand gropes the elf’s crotch, causing him to moan. 
"Works for me", the half-orc grabs a handful of silver curls with his stiff fingers. "Never fucked an elf".
Astarion obeys. This is what he is. A mere street whore.
No, go away, you don't need to do that anymore. You are free, don't let him touch you!
Astarion knows what will come next. Two half-orcs, who despise and hate elves to their guts will really enjoy having one for themselves for the whole night. 
They’ll give him pain. Disgust. Burning touches. 
"Entertain us, elf", the half-orc groans pressing the Astarion’s face into the pillow. 
Here’s a joke: the elf wants to die. Sadly, he is already dead. And that's his life now. Forever. 
Beatings. Non-consensual sex. Or consensual? Is this what he wants? He never says “no”, after all.
I want you all to burn down, Astarion thinks spreading his legs. I want you to suffer as much as I do!
The half-orcs never give him a chance to drag them to the Cazador’s mansion. They won't die. They won't suffer. They use Astarion and then leave. A small sack of silver breaks when it is thrown on the floor.
And Astarion will have to deal with his sore body and numb mind. Forcing himself to get someone else inside the brothel, knowing too well that he is already doomed for torture because he hasn’t returned on time. Even if he delivers the most innocent and beautiful virgin to Cazador, he will be punished anyway.
Flayed with a razor. What? He is a vampire. He will regenerate. 
Astarion opens his eyes and finds himself on the floor. 
Where is he?
It's not a brothel. More like an Inn?
Reality slips back into his mind, replacing the awful visions of the past.
It wasn't real. Of course, it wasn't.
He doesn't have to sell his body anymore. He doesn’t have to sleep with people he doesn't like and want. He won't be beaten for saying “no”. He even has the luxury to say “no” to Tav, the only person whose body he enjoys. 
But two hundred years of memories are too vivid. Tortures. Humiliation. Misery. Forced prostitution. He had to do the most disgusting things on his master's whims, and Astarion is afraid nothing will ever wash it away. 
The flood of darkness flushes his brain again. Astarion rises up on his knees as if in a desperate prayer.
Why him?
Why did it happen to him?
His life was stolen. His personality, his future, his past. All was brutally taken away along with his beating heart.
Leaving only pain and disgust.
Tears burn his skin. The scars hurt as if they are still fresh and bleeding. 
He was stripped away of everything. Of freedom. Of dignity. Of his own self-respect.
The person he could have become. The future he could have embraced. 
Why?
Why?!
He digs his nail deep into his skin as if trying to peel it off. He is a vampire. It will regenerate.
Touches. The smell of unwashed bodies. Movements inside him. The fake pleasure. Pain. Always — pain. Either physical or mental, but often both. 
He clenches his fists and groans like a wounded animal.
"Astarion"
A gentle voice resonates with his broken thoughts. 
“Astarion, are you with me?”
He looks up and sees Tav. She sits in front of him. Concerned face. Worried eyes. She doesn’t move, doesn’t try to touch him. Like he's a person.
Like he's worth something.
Like he's broken and she needs to be careful.
"Oh, hello, darling", the mask is on again. "I am sorry. I've been carried away a bit. Tell me how was your day in the sunlight."
Tav sighs. “Astarion, I returned an hour ago. And you’ve been like that all this time.”
"Darling, you could just call me over”, Astarion smiles. 
"I have done it five times."
“Oh. Then … “
“Astarion, I know when your smile is sincere and when it’s not. Don’t force yourself.”
He stops and sits back.
“May I touch you?”, she asks.
He nods. The caress sends a shiver down his spine and Astarion flinches avoiding looking at Tav.
He remembers. Again, and again. Never-ending tortures disguised as pleasures. Things he would have never done voluntarily. The dirt on his skin. The poison on his tongue.
Astarion wants to hide. He wants to disappear. He wants to run away.
Tav crawls closer to him to hold him in her hands. 
He shivers.
“Hush, I am here. Tell me what is plaguing you.”
He almost orders himself to relax. Tav is here. Tav loves him. Tav doesn’t judge. Whatever he tells her, she won’t get angry. She won’t hurt him. She won’t punish him. Tav won’t use him for sex and pleasure. It will never happen no matter what he does. 
He can run away. He can say “no”. He can fight back.
"Just a memory of a certain night in the lower town. A night of... what I usually was supposed to do. I...” the words stuck in his throat. “I am tainting you, Tav. I am ruining you.”
"Stop", Tav puts her chin on his shoulder nuzzling his collarbone. 
"I am a terrible person, Tav. I truly am. It all happened to me and I sometimes think what a terrible person I used to be if I inflicted it all upon myself.”
Instead of answering, Tav holds him tighter as if not to not allow him to drown in dark waters. 
"Do you remember anything from your past life?"
"No"
"Then why do you think you were a bad person?”
“Because — … “
He doesn’t know the answer. A corrupt magistrate who would easily ruin people’s lives. An arrogant racist who hated everyone who didn’t belong to the pure fairy kin. 
But was it true?
“Listen, Astarion. I won’t pretend I know what you were like back then. I won’t lie by saying I know why it happened to you. But everything you “know” about your past life comes from Cazador. What if it was just another of his tortures? He wanted you to believe you were a bad person. He wanted you to think you were guilty. I know that type. It’s a special pleasure for them to torture good people. He — “
“Made me a street whore.”
He spits the last word. Yes, that is what he was all these years. He can mask it all with fancy words. Conquests, lovers, seduction. When it was just abuse.
Words spill out of him.
"Sometimes I wasn’t even supposed to drag anyone to the mansion. It was more like retrieving information by doing the only thing I knew how to do well. Sometimes it was an order to pleasure someone - as a reward for them. Sometimes it was just pointless. Just one more thing to break me even more.”
"You say like you did it of your own free will", she says.
"I-"
"You did it because you were like a puppet. Because it was impossible to say “no”. The moment you set yourself free, you stopped doing that."
"And the first thing I did was seduce you!”
She cups his face and kisses his forehead. It causes another flow of tears. 
“I have my own free will, too,” she says. “Do you think I would sleep with you if I didn’t want to? I am not the person who hooks up with men in brothels and I am not the person who would enjoy a sentient trophy to fuck. It’s not normal to find people on streets and treat them like objects.”
Tav cradles him in her arms. Astarion’s muscles are still tense. He can’t do anything about that. Maybe, if Tav leaves him for a moment, he will find a way to relax but the mere thought of staying alone scares him.
She kisses him. Saying all the sweet words she knows to soothe his worries.
"I have an idea," she finally says. “Could you lie on your stomach?"
“What for?”
Tav kisses his neck.
"Please?"
He is trying to lie on the floor but Tav stops him.
“On the bed.”
He hesitates but agrees. Astarion puts his hands under his cheek. His bare back is exposed and it causes him to clench his fists again.
“I will stop if you feel uncomfortable, love. Just tell me and I will stop”
He nods. Tav saddles him with her hips and presses hands on his ribs.
“Can I touch your scars?”
“Yes.”
Tav presses arms into his skin causing a pleasant pressure. The fingers massage his back but there is nothing sexual about it. It's not a premise, not a prelude. It will lead to nothing. He won’t have to pay back.
The hands massage his back, strongly and gently. 
"You have beautiful hands”, Tav murmurs. “They can do so many things —”
Yes, he thinks darkly, bringing pleasure mostly.
“They can sew, embroider. Pick up lockers. Steal pretty things. I like watching you doing tricks with coins. Can’t take my eyes off. Speaking of which… ”
Tav touches his curls.
“You have incredible eyes. Crimson red – “
The color of blood.
“The color of wine”, Tav proceeds. “You are always vigilant, like a cat on a hunt. You notice small details and see things I don’t.”
Tav moves a bit to be able to press a kiss on the crown of his head.
“You are so smart. You know so many things.” She gently touches his right ear. “I love your ears and how they peek out of your hair. They are so adorable especially when they twitch a bit, reacting to sounds or to your jaw movements.”
She keeps talking to him, massaging his back. The words of reassurance, of love, sound like a prayer. The touches and kisses cover his skin like a healing ointment.
Astarion feels protected. Loved. 
And then it’s just too much.
He bursts into tears. Desperate, painful. Tears rip his chest apart causing pain in the throat. 
Tav stops and gets off him allowing him to lay on his back.
“Astarion… Did I hurt you?”
He wants to say something but he can’t. He cries like a child abandoned in the streets. Cries like he did many years ago when the first tortures were inflicted upon him. When he realized no one would save him. That the Gods were silent and merciless. 
“Astarion…”
All the darkness he has in his heart is spilling through the tears. They wash away the pain and disgust like rain washes dirt in the Lower City. 
With effort he pulls Tav to him pressing her to his chest. She wraps her hands around him.
“Thank you”, he mutters through tears.
They sit like that for an eternity. Astarion listens to Tav’s heartbeat and breathing. He remembers her first reaction to his stories – anger. Pure, livid anger. Anger to people who did this to him. Not only Cazador but everyone who treated him like an object. And sorrow – she mourned his past along with him. 
She is his happiness. The happiness he has never considered worthy of. He has found it with her. And he will be forever grateful for her patience and care.
“Tav?”, he whispers but she doesn’t reply. He pulls away a bit and sees she is asleep.
Astarion chuckles and helps Tav to lie on the bed beside him. He tucks her into the blanket and makes sure she lies on the dry side of the pillow (not the section damp with his tears).
And then, he begins whispering words like a prayer.
Thank you. Thank you for existing.
--
Tag List
@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy
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t4transsexual · 1 month
Text
first time talking about smth not trans/t4t related on here but yall are really fuckin awful to aro/ace ppl. like i see like "u cant identify as asexual until ur 18 its an inappropriate sexuality for a child to have" and its like ok thats just like homophobia/transphobia again. u just made queerphobia again. do you know how many times i heard that its weird for me to identify as trans "so young" (i was 16)? and like "u cant identify as aro/ace if ur traumatized cause what if its just the trauma" ok and what if trauma with men made a girl a lesbian? you just made homophobia again. and dont even get me started on "WELL WHAT IF THERES AN AROMANTIC HETEROSEXUAL CIS MAN WHO WANTS TO BE QUEER" and oh yeah im sure youre so scared of "predator men" invading your spaces sike u just made transphobia again. like at what point will we as queer people stop attacking our queer siblings and collaborate as a community to create meaningful change? at what point?
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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months
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LOVE the new fic. The betrayal literally made me tear up.
I was just curious would Gojo have given up on Ms. Moon if she were married or maybe had a kid.
oh fu c k such a good idea whydidn'tithinkofthis- (this got so long i am so sorry)
in the fic, ms.moon is pretty traumatized after the gojo incident to have any real relationships after.
But maybe ms.moon gets into therapy, works through the issues of intimacy. You meet someone, nice, kind. You settle down, have a kid. It'll be nice for a few years...but when gojo comes back into your life. he'll shut it down quick.
Gojo's worse than his high school self now. He might not beat your husband up, but that might be a blessing compared to the tsunami he's about to havoc on your family. Using his connections, he'll make sure your husband never finds a job in the entire city, the entire region even. He might even dig up something your husband did in his past, a small drug problem he had with highschool-something that would get swept under the rug normally, but with Gojo's scrutiny, it's about to become a lot bigger.
You could stop it. With enough begging. After you'd cry your heart out, he'd shush you, wiping away your tears, saying that he'd forgive you for your transgressions.
You'd be expected to divorce your husband. Your husband would be pretty pissed with your flimsy reasoning of 'my childhood bully isn't done with ruining my life' but then he'd remember that there is a reason the Gojo family is so big. And they don't take kindly to competitors who stand in their way. You'd understand why he lets you walk away without a fight, but a part of you wished he would have pushed more, even if the result would have remained the same.
It's your child who suffers the worst through all of this. Maybe you had a daughter. Perhaps gojo would be a bit more tolerant towards her if she looked like you but she was clearly her father's daughter. In the past, you adored it, now it's another curse for you.
You have to keep her away, for her sake. Gojo is already more than upset that you dared to start a family without him. Besides, why would you want her with you? Why would you want her to suffer under gojo's whims?
A part of you has to admit that it's also for your sake. You don't want your daughter to see you like that. Weak, rolling under that man's thumb.
She's probably just a toddler when you have to leave. She's too young to understand when you say 'mommy's going away for a while'. Maybe you'd lie to her, say that you're going overseas and when she asks if she can come with you, you'd shake your head because talking anymore would be too much because Satoru's waiting in the sleek black car right on the curb. It doesn't matter what you say, she screams and sobs the entire time.
You don't touch your ex-husband, you don't even hug because you know Satoru's watching. You just ask him to take care of her before you walk into the car, getting into the passenger seat. Your daughter's still begging you to come back. You make sure the car is out of her sight before you start sobbing.
There's a hand on your thigh, squeezing, a mocking act of comfort. You're sure Satoru's grinning.
"Aw. Don’t cry, baby," you can barely hold yourself back from slapping him, though you doubted even pain would wipe that look off his face.
The hand drifts up your thigh, playing with the hem of your pants.
"Once we have our own kids, you’ll get way too busy to think about your old one.”
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ivys-garden · 2 months
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Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly
First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it
That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.
On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.
It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening
Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)
If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)
I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur
(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)
Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.
(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)
Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear
DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC
"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-
Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before
Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.
He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.
He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.
If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.
Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym
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mossbone · 9 months
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The recent Dracula Daily updates are interesting to me. This book is infamous for being about the vampiric Horrors, as defined by their sexual immorality and hedonism; unlike our Heroes who are proper and British and christian. And yet...here we see the horrors being compounded and enabled by the rigid social structures emphasizing morality. And for all Bram Stoker's biases, I think that was intentional.
Firstly, the horror is compounded by the Need for Propriety. Lucy is sleepwalking, in nothing but her nightgown! How awful! So awful it is unthinkable as an option to Mina until she sees undeniable proof Lucy left the house. When that is proven true, "ever growing fear chilling my heart" Mina feels turns to "a vague, overmastering fear obscured all details." She then runs through the streets and finally turns to the cliffs, not fearing like Lucy's mother, to see her in danger of falling of the cliffs, but simply fearing to see her safe in their favorite seat—exposed to all the town.
She in fact sees in shadowy detail, an unidentified man leaning over Lucy. Yet..the whole update is strewn with Mina's massive and unfortunately justified fear for her friend's reputation, maybe more than her safety. Did someone take advantage of Lucy, enact some violence or violation of her while she was sleepwalking? Irrelevant, compared to the question: will anyone see them and assume they were up to some promiscuity? After all, she can't help but be "thinking how the story would become distorted—nay, infallibly would—in case it should leak out." There is the psychological horror on top of the nights events, which were traumatic enough.
An indictment of the present state of late Victorian values and their strict judgments already. But then. The consequence of our young heroines being unable to share their story is that Dracula continues to work unnoticed. He will get more victims, he will continue to grow in power and terrorize Lucy and whomever else he wants. Just like Jonathan being trapped in an increasingly abusive work contract because he feels he must stay to the strict matters of politeness [an imbalance of power that work relationships had then and continue to fucking have], here Lucy and Mina are trapped in very clear physical danger because they cannot share the predator hunting them without surely being accused of being a liar and a whore.
Of course, the loved ones of our protagonists are not of that malicious nature at all. If only they could talk to each other freely, Jonathan and Arthur and Lucy's other suitors would obviously not blame her. And Mina, or likely anyone, would help Jonathan recognize the red flags as what they were. But such close communication is impossible given the heavy expectations of the day.
Social standards were very bad and restrictive in 1897, and I think Bram Stoker consistently criticizes how they are with his novel, even while it serves as a cautionary tale against immorality. The solution to sexual abuse and immorality, in his words, is not punishing people for suffering from them or talking about them. I think he is saying this masterfully, as well, by allowing the audience to feel the visceral fear and helplessness through the perspective of the narrators so closely. Unlike many novels of the time which had people near the protagonist serve as cautionary tales and indictments of society, he forces the reader into those shoes through intimate first person narration.
Anyway. Good chapters, huh. Sadly still relevant.
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perfecteggpartyland · 2 months
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ok so one of my biggest pet peeves is when people criticize six of crows by it being unrealistic but not in fantasy world sense but like they're way too young ;kaz is 17 there's no way grown men are afraid of him ; they're children and all that jazz; like of course it's your opinion but like you should judge a fantasy book in real life lenses and Morals ? Like kaz; yes he is a child at 17 still but he grew up in a barrel all by himself ; already a traumatized kids only way to survive was to become someone feared ; someone who won't be taken advantage of ever again; he was desprate and enraged and basically you get the point; inej has been kidnapped ; inslaved and sold nto the menagerie at 14; Nina and Mattias are both soldiers in a horrible war; etc. Like criticism which I have heard to often about these book is that "they're too young "; like they all grew up in a terrible environment without any support system and are traumatized . They know how to fight; lie; cheat; intimidate and kill people because they had to. To survive in an extremely cruel world and same goes in real life too. trauma doesn't care about their age; children do get exposed to awful things that some adults can't even imagine;so they're too young for me falls really flat as a solid criticism.
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prince-liest · 9 months
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was recently talking to a friend about qi rong which then lead to me going on a reread of my favorite qi rong fic EVER, and now I’m in my feels about him, his relationship with his family, and his relationship with xie lian and guzi.
I just love qi rong a lot. to be clear, he’s a horrible little gremlin and that is a lot of WHY I love him - but I also think that fundamentally qi rong is a character who is super traumatized but does not receive sympathy for that trauma because he is not traumatized in a “palatable�� way which is a trend that starts when he is young and just never ends, canonically, at any point in his life
right from the bat: the first 5 years of his life, he's being physically and emotionally abused, he's cast out to live in a shed, his mom is forgotten by her family. by the time she finally escapes his abusive father and goes back to the palace, her elopement with him has been swept under the rug and most people don't actually know what happened - and are then weirded out by her and qi rong, causing all the children and even most adults around qi rong to basically refuse to interact with him. so he's abused and hated, then isolated to the point where nobody talks to him, nobody plays with him. the one time he thinks he succeeded at attempting to make some friends, it turns out that they tricked him into writing a death wish for himself and his mother on his lantern.
and all the while, he's watching xie lian and the adulation he receives, not understanding why xie lian gets those things and he does not. everyone always says he looks like xie lian. he’s even called xiao jing, like he’s a mirror of the crown prince. what’s the difference?
and then xie lian himself is the only person aside from his own mother to be genuinely kind to qi rong. qi rong is desperately lonely, envious and fixated on the cousin that nobody will stop comparing him to, and then said cousin is the only person to reach out to him with kindness. of course he wants to attach himself to xie lian and emulate him.
unfortunately for both of them, then his mother dies - not just randomly, but specifically in defense of xie lian’s mother, and having extracted a promise for xie lian’s parents to care for qi rong. however, things don’t actually change at that point. sure, they take him in and buy him whatever he wants, but as far as love and care are concerned, xie lian is really the only potential source of those things left for qi rong. xie lian is also a teenager with a lot of pressure on his shoulders and a lack of understanding of difficult situations. of course he doesn’t know how to raise his traumatized, misbehaving cousin! and nobody else bothers to. it’s deeply unfair for xie lian to be used as the singular tool to discipline and direct qi rong, and that directly contributes to their extremely soured relationship.
now that qi rong’s mother is dead, there is nobody left around that actually wants him or is willing to put effort into properly raising him. when a kid turns out as wild as qi rong - that's not just random happenstance, that happens because they weren't parented right (or at all). he acts out in increasingly insane ways for the attention everyone hates to give him - anyone's, but especially xie lian's, which sucks for xie lian because it should have been his parents providing qi rong with an authority figure and source of love, not xie lian's teenage self. and people respond by waving him off, giving him whatever he wants just to make him go away, and ignoring him, because he has a deeply off-putting personality.
and it causes everyone around qi rong to resent him in this vicious cycle that escalates his behavior because he doesn't know what else to do - until eventually even xie lian, the one person that he really looked up to, hates him too.
obviously qi rong is an awful person by the point we reach in canon, but I also think that if he had received regular hugs as a child and maybe some actual parenting from someone who didn’t beat him, instead of just being given a bunch of money and being told to fuck off
specifically because he was weird and traumatized and unlikeable
things would have turned out very different for him. because he very clearly tries - that’s one thing that’s very clear in the flashbacks and even continues to modern canon: qi rong really tries to get love and attention, and when that doesn’t work, he just escalates to “any attention, bad attention, attention that proves I’m worth something, proves wrong all the people saying the supposedly-amazing cousin that took away my only source of kindness when he started hating me, is so much better than me”. he starts out an awkward, off-putting kid and ends up the night-touring green lantern. of course he holds enough resentment to end up a calamity. his cannibalism shtick doesn’t even read as genuine to me, it just seems like he picked out “what’s the worst, most attention-grabbing thing I can possibly be to pre-emptively justify everyone’s disgust in me” and landed on that.
(see also: I think it’s hysterical that he has very strong opinions and abilities as pertains to gourmet cooking, and then just uses them to lure in victims so that he can have his meal of Raw Unseasoned Human Flesh. you can’t tell me he’s doing it for anything other than the bit at this point.)
and that’s also why I think his weirdly wholesome relationship with guzi also makes a lot of sense. qi rong is a shockingly decent father to him (eventually), probably in part because he overidentifies with guzi also being abused by his father, but also, because guzi is literally just a kid and therefore is not someone that yet has the capacity to have all these preconceptions about qi rong, nor for qi rong to read into his words and be insulted, because. that's just a kid. there’s nothing to read into.
I think his treatment of guzi (eventually) shows that he's capable of being at least kind of decent (or at least functional), he's just never been in a circumstance where his trauma and relationships let it happen. his material life was always supplied for, but his emotional and familial environment in xianle was invariably toxic for him.
anyway, I think qi rong needs a shower and a hug, in that order, and then to be forced to learn to interact with people who don't immediately assume the worst of him. thanks for coming to my TED talk, I know it was long as hell.
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batmanschmatman · 3 months
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It’s interesting to me to see how many people have been saying they feel like [character’s] death was too sudden or too early, and while I agree from a writing standpoint we didn’t exactly have a lot of time with him and they COULD have framed the show differently to give us more, I also think it’s sort of The Point that his death is sudden and kind of out of nowhere.
The air war was incredibly fucking brutal. I’m not saying it was more or less so than what the BOB or TP guys went through because they’re all awful, but it’s a well accepted part of the WWII experience that anything to do with flying planes might have seemed glamorous and cool but was actually terrifying and had a sort of uniquely horrible flavor to it when it came to facing the death of your friends.
(And this isn’t even getting into the stuff happening on the ground when cities became viable targets, but that’s for a different post.)
When Hoobler dies, the guys are there, they see it happen, they can try to help him, and then they know after a point that he’s dying. They can sit with the body afterward and take his stuff to send back to his family. Even in the more fast paced deaths like Rob Oswalt, Sledge and the others can look at his body and have a moment - however brief! - to say goodbye. There’s often no mystery of what happened, you’ve seen the wounds and know they’re dead. And you also HAVE to push it down because you’re being shot at and need to keep yourself alive. 
All of that is real important in the grief/mourning process. Guys in the 100th usually didn’t have that unless someone on your bomber died. You’d go up with your friends, you’d see their planes get hit, there’s nothing you can do besides watch for chutes and hope they survive to be taken prisoner. And then you come back, and your friends are gone, there’s no body to bury or sit with or touch. Their stuff is all still in the barracks like nothing happened. Sometimes you’re not even immediately sure if they are dead or not! You don’t know who those chutes belonged to, or if they made it safely to the ground instead of dying on impact or immediately being caught by the Germans and executed. But your friends are gone and you were powerless to do anything to help them.
And then you get to do it all over again knowing it’s going to happen to other friends or to you and there’s basically nothing you can do about it. How do you cope with that? What does it do to you to feel like your friends just literally vanished into thin air even though the last time you saw them, they were healthy and young and alive? And then new guys replace them, and you have to decide if you want to make friends with them or close yourself off, because these guys are going to die too.
(Oh, and if a member of your crew got badly wounded? You could have HOURS before you got back to base, and you have some first aid training but you’re not a surgeon, you don’t have plasma or whole blood to give a guy to help keep him alive until you make it back. So another horrible traumatic thing you get to deal with. Wounds that could’ve been treatable if you’d been at Carentan or Guadalcanal could be fatal.) 
I’m not saying this show is a masterpiece in storytelling by any means, but… You’re supposed to feel shocked and angry and robbed of the chance to get to know these guys? Because that’s literally how their friends felt. It’s a point Miller makes a lot in the book, and a really vital part to understanding why being in the AAF (or other air forces) was such a meat grinder physically and psychologically for these guys. 
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