#cory this is your fault

[babygoestozspace]

Cam won veto?

[brionbroadway]

cory wore shoes that are too small for him because he thought they were doing a different comp and he'd better be able to wedge his feet in

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Marshmallow Longtermism

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this week!

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "Marshmallow Longtermism"; it's a reflection on how conservatives self-mythologize as the standards-bearers for deferred gratification and making hard trade-offs, but are utterly lacking in these traits when it comes to climate change and inequality:

https://locusmag.com/2024/09/cory-doctorow-marshmallow-longtermism/

Conservatives often root our societal ills in a childish impatience, and cast themselves as wise adults who understand that "you can't get something for nothing." Think here of the memes about lazy kids who would rather spend on avocado toast and fancy third-wave coffee rather than paying off their student loans. In this framing, poverty is a consequence of immaturity. To be a functional adult is to be sober in all things: not only does a grownup limit their intoxicant intake to head off hangovers, they also go to the gym to prevent future health problems, they save their discretionary income to cover a down-payment and student loans.

This isn't asceticism, though: it's a mature decision to delay gratification. Avocado toast is a reward for a life well-lived: once you've paid off your mortgage and put your kid through college, then you can have that oat-milk latte. This is just "sound reasoning": every day you fail to pay off your student loan represents another day of compounding interest. Pay off the loan first, and you'll save many avo toasts' worth of interest and your net toast consumption can go way, way up.

Cleaving the world into the patient (the mature, the adult, the wise) and the impatient (the childish, the foolish, the feckless) does important political work. It transforms every societal ill into a personal failing: the prisoner in the dock who stole to survive can be recast as a deficient whose partying on study-nights led to their failure to achieve the grades needed for a merit scholarship, a first-class degree, and a high-paying job.

Dividing the human race into "the wise" and "the foolish" forms an ethical basis for hierarchy. If some of us are born (or raised) for wisdom, then naturally those people should be in charge. Moreover, putting the innately foolish in charge is a recipe for disaster. The political scientist Corey Robin identifies this as the unifying belief common to every kind of conservativism: that some are born to rule, others are born to be ruled over:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/01/set-healthy-boundaries/#healthy-populism

This is why conservatives are so affronted by affirmative action, whose premise is that the absence of minorities in the halls of power stems from systemic bias. For conservatives, the fact that people like themselves are running things is evidence of their own virtue and suitability for rule. In conservative canon, the act of shunting aside members of dominant groups to make space for members of disfavored minorities isn't justice, it's dangerous "virtue signaling" that puts the childish and unfit in positions of authority.

Again, this does important political work. If you are ideologically committed to deregulation, and then a giant, deregulated sea-freighter crashes into a bridge, you can avoid any discussion of re-regulating the industry by insisting that we are living in a corrupted age where the unfit are unjustly elevated to positions of authority. That bridge wasn't killed by deregulation – it's demise is the fault of the DEI hire who captained the ship:

https://www.axios.com/local/salt-lake-city/2024/03/26/baltimore-bridge-dei-utah-lawmaker-phil-lyman-misinformation

The idea of a society made up of the patient and wise and the impatient and foolish is as old as Aesop's "The Ant and the Grasshopper," but it acquired a sheen of scientific legitimacy in 1970, with Walter Mischel's legendary "Stanford Marshmallow Experiment":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_marshmallow_experiment

In this experiment, kids were left alone in a locked room with a single marshmallow, after being told that they would get two marshmallows in 15 minutes, but only if they waited until them to eat the marshmallow before them. Mischel followed these kids for decades, finding that the kids who delayed gratification and got that second marshmallow did better on every axis – educational attainment, employment, and income. Adult brain-scans of these subjects revealed structural differences between the patient and the impatient.

For many years, the Stanford Marshmallow experiment has been used to validate the cleavage of humanity in the patient and wise and impatient and foolish. Those brain scans were said to reveal the biological basis for thinking of humanity's innate rulers as a superior subspecies, hidden in plain sight, destined to rule.

Then came the "replication crisis," in which numerous bedrock psychological studies from the mid 20th century were re-run by scientists whose fresh vigor disproved and/or complicated the career-defining findings of the giants of behavioral "science." When researchers re-ran Mischel's tests, they discovered an important gloss to his findings. By questioning the kids who ate the marshmallows right away, rather than waiting to get two marshmallows, they discovered that these kids weren't impatient, they were rational.

The kids who ate the marshmallows were more likely to come from poorer households. These kids had repeatedly been disappointed by the adults in their lives, who routinely broke their promises to the kids. Sometimes, this was well-intentioned, as when an economically precarious parent promised a treat, only to come up short because of an unexpected bill. Sometimes, this was just callousness, as when teachers, social workers or other authority figures fobbed these kids off with promises they knew they couldn't keep.

The marshmallow-eating kids had rationally analyzed their previous experiences and were making a sound bet that a marshmallow on the plate now was worth more than a strange adult's promise of two marshmallows. The "patient" kids who waited for the second marshmallow weren't so much patient as they were trusting: they had grown up with parents who had the kind of financial cushion that let them follow through on their promises, and who had the kind of social power that convinced other adults – teachers, etc – to follow through on their promises to their kids.

Once you understand this, the lesson of the Marshmallow Experiment is inverted. The reason two marshmallow kids thrived is that they came from privileged backgrounds: their high grades were down to private tutors, not the choice to study rather than partying. Their plum jobs and high salaries came from university and family connections, not merit. Their brain differences were the result of a life free from the chronic, extreme stress that comes with poverty.

Post-replication crisis, the moral of the Stanford Marshmallow Experiment is that everyone experiences a mix of patience and impatience, but for the people born to privilege, the consequences of impatience are blunted and the rewards of patience are maximized.

Which explains a lot about how rich people actually behave. Take Charles Koch, who grew his father's coal empire a thousandfold by making long-term investments in automation. Koch is a vocal proponent of patience and long-term thinking, and is openly contemptuous of publicly traded companies because of the pressure from shareholders to give preference to short-term extraction over long-term planning. He's got a point.

Koch isn't just a fossil fuel baron, he's also a wildly successful ideologue. Koch is one of a handful of oligarchs who have transformed American politics by patiently investing in a kraken's worth of think tanks, universities, PACs, astroturf organizations, Star chambers and other world-girding tentacles. After decades of gerrymandering, voter suppression, court-packing and propagandizing, the American billionaire class has seized control of the US and its institutions. Patience pays!

But Koch's longtermism is highly selective. Arguably, Charles Koch bears more personal responsibility for delaying action on the climate emergency than any other person, alive or dead. Addressing greenhouse gasses is the most grasshopper-and-the-ant-ass crisis of all. Every day we delayed doing something about this foreseeable, well-understood climate debt added sky-high compounding interest. In failing to act, we saved billions – but we stuck our future selves with trillions in debt for which no bankruptcy procedure exists.

By convincing us not to invest in retooling for renewables in order to make his billions, Koch was committing the sin of premature avocado toast, times a billion. His inability to defer gratification – which he imposed on the rest of us – means that we are likely to lose much of world's coastal cities (including the state of Florida), and will have to find trillions to cope with wildfires, zoonotic plagues, and hundreds of millions of climate refugees.

Koch isn't a serene Buddha whose ability to surf over his impetuous attachments qualifies him to make decisions for the rest of us. Rather, he – like everyone else – is a flawed vessel whose blind spots are just as stubborn as ours. But unlike a person whose lack of foresight leads to drug addiction and petty crimes to support their habit, Koch's flaws don't just hurt a few people, they hurt our entire species and the only planet that can support it.

The selective marshmallow patience of the rich creates problems beyond climate debt. Koch and his fellow oligarchs are, first and foremost, supporters of oligarchy, an intrinsically destabilizing political arrangement that actually threatens their fortunes. Policies that favor the wealthy are always seeking an equilibrium between instability and inequality: a rich person can either submit to having their money taxed away to build hospitals, roads and schools, or they can invest in building high walls and paying guards to keep the rest of us from building guillotines on their lawns.

Rich people gobble that marshmallow like there's no tomorrow (literally). They always overestimate how much bang they'll get for their guard-labor buck, and underestimate how determined the poors will get after watching their children die of starvation and preventable diseases.

All of us benefit from some kind of cushion from our bad judgment, but not too much. The problem isn't that wealthy people get to make a few poor choices without suffering brutal consequences – it's that they hoard this benefit. Most of us are one missed student debt payment away from penalties and interest that add twenty years to our loan, while Charles Koch can set the planet on fire and continue to act as though he was born with the special judgment that means he knows what's best for us.

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/04/deferred-gratification/#selective-foresight

Image: Mark S (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/markoz46/4864682934/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[luveline]

hi queen 😙

could you please do one where the BAU are staying in another state for a case so they have to stay in a hotel and for some reason hotch has to come see reader in the morning or before bed or something so he knocks on the door of her room and she opens and she’s just standing there with like her hair in two braids and like matching pink pyjamas and hotch just has a little laugh because he’s never seen that side of her before?? 💕💕

this would be like season 1 or 2 hotch :D

cw reader has hair that can be put into two braids

He texts you first but you don't answer. Hotch isn't happy to encroach on your space so early but he can't remember what you said last night about the killer's motivations and he needs to know, desperately, in case this missing piece of the puzzle can stop another young man from being murdered. 

"L/N?" he asks, knocking on the door quickly. "Y/N, are you awake?" 

There's a definite sleeping groan. Hotch winces at the sound but what else can he do? You'll have to wake up in an hour anyway. 

"Y/N? I'm sorry to wake you, but I need to ask you about Cory, last night's victim? You said it seemed more like an arsonist than a murderer, what did you mean by–" 

The door swings open. "...that." Hotch stares at you. 

You have your hair braided away from your face, strands rocked free and frizzy. More amusing is the baby pink pyjamas you're wearing; adorable little slips of fabric, pants that stop mid-calf and a camisole with soft lace at the chest. Hotch immediately looks back to your face as he realises his once over, but he can't hold back a laugh. A small chuckle, harmless. 

"Are you laughing at me?" you ask tiredly, voice croaky but threaded with amusement. "You woke me up, okay? This is your fault. Did you bring me coffee, at least?" 

Hotch puts his empty hands up in defeat. 

"Come in, then, before someone else sees me." 

Hotch follows you inside. He doesn't feel any pressure or awkwardness, but he needs to make sure you aren't either, and so he takes a cross-armed position against the wall. You run your hand down a braid and pull out the elastic, absentminded as you shake out your hair. 

"I said it was more like arson because of the mess. Arsons like to ruin things. And I just don't see how it could be solely pleasure based after such a massacre," —you move to the second braid and repeat the process— "the adrenaline runs out eventually, but the blood was– it was everywhere. It would've taken effort. There are photos on my phone if you want to see." 

You gibe him your phone, open to photographs you took last night. Hotch clicks through them in disgust. Like you said, it takes a lot of effort to make a crime scene look like this. 

"We could be looking for someone with an impulse control disorder," Horch guesses. "Our pool of suspects would completely change. We've been looking for people who have untoward desires centred around teenage boys–" 

"But if we're searching for someone who can't control their impulses we could easily be looking at a teenage boy. He'd have reason to be with his victims that wouldn't cause concern." 

Hotch finds it very difficult to take you seriously in your pinks. He laughs again, and you know exactly what it is he's laughing at, waving him away as you bend down by your suitcase under the desk. "Go sharpen up, Hotchner. And get me a coffee, please." You glance at him from over your shoulder. "I'd like to see you in your pyjamas." 

"I'm sure you would, agent." 

Hotch thinks more than he should about you in your thin pyjamas, the way they hugged your thighs and the naked lengths of your arms, your ankles, he's ridiculous, but it's stuff he's not used to seeing. He's usually so focused. 

He brings you a coffee and an apology croissant, which you eat in pleased silence beside him, fully dressed, hair tamed. He can't not see you as you were that morning, eyes puffy with tiredness but a hundred times the professional he'd been. 

"I can feel you looking at me," you murmur. "Laugh again and I'm telling Gideon." 

"Ah, and he'd reprimand me."  

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" you ask, almost monotone as you drink your coffee. "Do you have the case file for Patrick Gorden? I wanna compare the blood splatter on the walls." 

[snowsinterlude]

summary: snow was always ready to help you with your 'boy problems'. however, you didn't knew it would be with his fingers inside of you.

c.w: cheating, modern au, cuck!sejanus, fingering, squirting, coriolanus x reader, massage (hips, thighs, ass.), tear licking, forced kissing.

putting your phone to the side, you anxiously started to shake your leg, something you did ever since you were a child.

you were at your mom's best friend house, on the room of your long time best friend, coriolanus.

now, for more context: your boyfriend sejanus plinth was getting on your nerves. it isn't so hard to be a good boyfriend. was he cheating on you? god. that's the only plausible reason for him to be acting like a douchebag.

"cory," you called, and he hummed back in response, having him just left the bath, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants only. as he passed deodorant and you closed your eyes shut as you inhaled on the marvellous smell that you silently wished was of your boyfriend, you spoke again. "my thighs are hurting."

"stop shaking your leg then, maybe it will stop."

"or you can give me a massage? please. please please please, swear i'll do anything you want later." you said.

"okay." he sighed, sitting on the side of his bath as his hands started to work. "where does it hurt?" he asked, already massaging both your thighs.

"the right one, from the hip to the knee."

"you feel more pain than my grandma, god." he hummed, massaging your hips.

"fuck you" you answered, recieving a surprised look and a slap on the ass. "ouch! what the-"

"i'm giving you a massage, you can't 'fuck you' me." he said, massaging the place he slapped.

god, was he really massaging your ass?

he was. ah, he was! and it felt so good, his hands grabbing on your thighs and your ass, on your hips too. how could someone's hand feel so good?

the moment he massaged your inner thighs, you had to bite your lip back from moaning or laughing- you wish your boyfriend did those things like coryo did. you wish.

"sorry." you said, in a beeathy moan.

"ok. how's it going with the plinth boy?" he asked.

"what?"

"for you to be looking like a sad worm, he must've done something."

"he's a douchebag. he can be so dumb sometimes! seriously how can you prefer to play footbal than spend time with your girlfriend?" you said. "but i dont want to talk about it."

coryo let out a shaky breath. his cock felt tight on his pants as he massaged your hips and butt. so soft and — somehow — giggly. how could it be any better?

"wanna talk about how soft your ass is?" he asked, grabbing it into his whole hand.

you laughed, heartbeating fast as you looked at him.

you want to suck him so badly.

"i know my ass is soft." you hummed, as he kissed your shoulder and made you shiver. "don't need you to tell me."

"do i need to tell you your panties are drenched?" he whispered, a grin on his face. you shoved your head on the pillows as you hugged it.

"shut up. just do what you're doing now." you hummed back.

and he did. fingers pressing on your flesh, from the hips to your thighs. and then, his fingers teasing your pussy through your wet panties made you look at him as if begging him to stop- stop before you started acting like a bitch.

you were already acting like one, melting as his digit teased you.

"cory, stop-" you pleaded, tearing up. "sej is your friend. he adores you-"

"not my fault he can't be a good boyfriend for you. i'm just helping you, dear." he said. you sobbed quietly.

"but you're his best friend, i can't do that to him-"

"i'm just the only person he can call a friend. not my fault no one likes him."

"i like him."

"charity doesn't count."

"it isn't charity!"

"yeah, keep telling yourself that. dating the loser boy who doesn't know how to eat a pussy out and never had a girlfriend doesn't give you a good person pass, babe."

you pouted, feeling guilty. you knew he was right. yoy started hanging out with sejanus cause you knew he didn’t had any friends. then, you didn't know how to say "no" when he asked you on a date. nor when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

snow's free hand went to your face, holding it firmly as he licked your tear, kissing your shut closed lips- somehow you thought that kissing someone else just made the cheating worse.

then his finger entered you, and you had to open your mouth to gasp for air, enough for his tongue to enter your lips and for him to kiss you. it was so perverted, you just had to kiss him back.

telling yourself it was not your fault, you couldn't help but clench around his fingers when his thumb rubbed against your clit and his middle finger entered you. with your skirt rolled up for him to massage you, and your panties pulled aside for him to finger you, he was more than happy to say it wasn't your fault even if it was.

"i know it feels good, dear. you don't have to pretend it doesn't." he said, kissing your neck, sucking on your skin.

"s..shut up, snow."

"as you wish." he chuckled, fastening his fingers just enough for you to moan against his mattress.

"cory!" his mom called, it wasn't enough for him to stop fingering you though. "your friend is here!"

"who?" he asked, kissing your ass cheek. it felt tingly.

"the plinth's son!" if you could see the way snow grinned, you wouldn't be scared. god, with the way you were right now you would be on his dick in the bat of an eye.

snow smiled devilishly as he thought of being caught red-handed. with his eyes travelling your whole body, he knew what to do.

"tell him to come here." he yelled back, fastening his fingers and kissing you as he heard the wet sounds of your pussy.

"snow!" you cried out, your pussy clenching tight on his fingers. deep inside you, you were excited from the same thought of being caught.

it didn't took much for you to cum on his hand. unfortunately for you, you weren't as quiet as you should be, moaning against his lips as your cunt clenched tight on his fingers, squirting enough to let a stain in his sheets.

then, you heard the door opening, and the sight of your legs open for snow's hand as he tongue kissed you was enough for your poor, virgin, excuse of an boyfriend to have an erection.

then you looked at him, teary eyes from the orgasm and lips red from the kiss. god, it was the funniest sight for coriolanus.

who would know sejanus plinth would have an erection for being cheated on?

"hello, sejanus." he said. finally, he took his fingers out of you, only to taste them on his mouth. you cried out in humiliation and excitement. finally you had an excuse to break up with sejanus.

"hello."

[dandylion240]

Jonah’s return tickets were open ended so he could stay as long as he wanted. When he first arrived he thought he’d be going back in a couple of days. It had been a couple of weeks and he already couldn’t imagine ever going back. He’d spoken to Cory on the phone a few times but each time he got the impression he was interrupting something. He shoved the idea aside but it lingered in the back of his mind.

It was after one of those calls that Jayden insisted he go with him to the park. With his mind preoccupied with Cory he agreed. “Guess what buddy” he scooped Eli into his arms to the delight of the little boy. “We’re going to the park.” His announcement was greeted with a high pitched squeal of laughter.

“Yay” Eli clapped his pudgy little hands together giggling.

They walked across the street towards the park. A sigh escaping his lips as he realized his mistake. This park had been one of the first places Ethan had taken him wgeb they were dating. The date itself had been a disappointment. He remembered going to grill and Ethan had left. At least that’s what he thought at the time. Ethan had gone to the opposite end of the park from where Jonah had gone. That dismal date seemed to sum up their entire relationship. Somehow they were always on the wrong side of things. Opposites in almost everything.

��Doggy” Eli pointed taking off running.

“Wait for daddy” Jonah called after him. Of course it was too late. Eli was already patting the dog’s head. “Eli what did I tell you?”

“Doggy” he pointed as if that explained everything.

“It’s alright” a familiar voice said behind him. “He won’t bite and he likes kids.” Jonah’s sharp intake of breath had the man looking up with widening eyes “Jonah?”

“Eli say goodbye to the puppy, we’re going home” he said trying to get his son detached from the dog.

“No” Eli wailed, arms and legs kicking out when Jonah picked him up.

“Is that him” Ethan asked stepping forward eyes drinking in everything he could of his son.

Hugging his son close Jonah nodded. He knew it was only a matter of time before he ran into him. He had hope it would be later. He gasped as a thought struck him. “They set me up.”

Ethan didn’t seem to notice his eye were glued to the little boy in Jonah’s arms. “Can I hold him” he asked hands reaching out to him even as he asked.

Pressing Eli closer Jonah shook his head even when he reluctantly let Ethan take him. “He has your eyes” he mumbled watching them together.

“He looks like you though” Ethan said staring at the boy. His child. His son. His mind was racing making it difficult for him to wrap his head around it. “He’s beautiful” he murmured almost in awe. Taking his eyes from the toddler he gazed up at Jonah. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you I was sorry. Am. What I said was inexcusable. If I could do it over I’d do things differently.”

Glancing towards the sky a if the answers were somewhere in the light blue and hazy clouds. “I want to believe you” Jonah heaved a sigh “you’ve no idea how much.”

“Yes I do” he took a step forward his gaze steady on Jonah. “I wanted to be angry at you. I wanted to blame you for everything that happened between us. It took me a long time to admit it was my fault.” He shook his head when he saw Jonah opening his mouth. “Don’t say it was your fault. I know it wasn’t. If I had been willing to be the man you wanted. No the man you needed me to be none of this would have happened. I wanted to take the easy way out. I wasn’t willing to listen to what you wanted.” Stopping he blinked back tears. “I know you hate me. I don’t blame you. I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

The glacier inside his heart started to melt. He could feel it moving. It was something that not even Cory had been able to do no matter how helpful and kind he’d been to him and his son. Jonah couldn’t open himself up enough to let Cory in. He had always remained remote, untouchable. He knew Cory felt it too.

“I don’t hate you” Jonah said putting a hand over his eyes breathing deeply as his chest tightened. “I never hated you. I didn't know how to be here and not be with you.”

Taking another step forward until they stood only a few inches apart. Close enough to feel their breaths caress their skin. “If you could, would you give me another chance?”

Jonah felt Ethan’s warm breath brush gently across his skin like a warm summer breeze. His instinct was telling him to pull Ethan close. Drink in his scent until it became a part of him. His eyes wandered down to his lips imagining how it would feel to have them on his again. Closing his eyes he moaned softly in want and need. Taking a step back “if I could I would. I just don’t know how to get back to good.”

Previous/Next

[pb-n-jen]

j.s. lore drop ⭑.ᐟ

pt. 5: i'll follow you

julia scott masterlist here!

|| 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨, 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 ||

principal berzonsky sighed, leaning back in his chair as he looked disapprovingly at julia across his desk. it wasn't her first trip here, and it probably wouldn't be her last, which made him all the more exasperated. "she's my friend. i was just....backing her up," julia was saying lamely in response to his line of questioning on her most recent transgression. nat had gotten into a fight with an opponent ant an away game, and when nat got into a fight, chances were julia also got into a fight. principal berzonsky sighed. "i know you know what you did is wrong, julia, so i'm not going to press that," he told her. "but you need to be aware that this isn't a path you should be following. you're a good student, and an even better athlete. i know you feel attached to your team, but they're just that, teammates. you don't have to let your friends drag you down just becaus you feel loyalty to them. they're not like your family, not really. not your siblings." he arched an eyebrow at her. "do you have siblings?" julia swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "no sir, only child."

she knew the minute she left that office that he'd be on her. it was something she'd almost gotten used to over the past seven years.....almost. "only child, huh?" cory's voice was saying. she could almost hear his footsteps behind her, see the lopsided smile on his face, his chipped front tooth. "i'm stung, jules." always so sarcastic. "shut up," she thought as loud as she could in her head. "this is your fault anyway." cory laughed. "really? 'cuz from where i'm standing, you threw the punch." most of the time, he was nice. sometimes, he was mean. loud in a way that julia couldn't ignore, especially when she was alone. in some ways, it made her feel guilty. guilty that she tried so hard to drown him out most of the time, with music or friends or soccer or school. sometimes, she was glad about it. like she still had some connection to him, even if it was all in her head. so, when he egged her on to go help nat, maybe she didn't hesitate.

when he told her to hit harder, maybe she did.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

everyone has ghosts. for julia scott, maybe it was a little more literal than most would think. ever since his death when they were ten, cory scott followed her around like a shadow. every moment, he was there. he grew older with her in the way he never did in life, the blurry image of him in her mind's looking more like her with every year that passed. maybe it was her forgetting what he looked like. maybe it was because of how much he felt like part of her. either way, no amound of expensive therapist medication or loud music could get him to leave. sometimes, it was too much. most of the time, it was just enough.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

this one's hella long but i needed this lore to eat. long awaited cory lore! tagging: @cleverwhvre @daniirosie

[myceliacrochet]

Reblog if answer tysm!!!!🥰

Let's help Hanan Mahmoud, her husband, and their three kids (ages 10, 7, and 2) be able to check off those first few ones!!

Hanan is worried sick for her kids.

She shouldn't have to spend what may be her last moments pleading for a crumb of help from gruff strangers in the internet.

Look at this sweet family.

Hanan and her family have lived through so much. They were inside their house in Khan Younis when it got bombed. They escaped with their lives to a displacement camp on the beach. They had a clothing store, but now they have no source of income, and that's not their fault. Nothing of the genocide has anything to do with them.

They need food, clean water, hygiene items, and more protection from the elements and spreading diseases, including polio, hepatitis, and skin infections.

Vetting: @gazavetters #140

Their accounts keep getting deactivated due to racism but this is the most current one I have for them

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[hyperfixatedimagines]

The Queen & her Lady Ch.7

Summary: Dragons start to dance and the Dornish Princess remains far from King's Landing. She fights to return to her love but what is waiting for her upon her return? All that once was, no longer is.

A/N: Hello everyone! This is the long awaited follow up. I will be covering the entire second season of HotD with liberties to the canon. If you enjoy it please leave a comment or reblog, thank you!

The wheelhouse had not stopped since departing from King’s Landing. 

Prince Qoren Martell wanted to arrive in Sunspear as quickly as possible. He knew what would come next; he knew war loomed and war with dragons left nothing but ash in its wake.

So he ordered his men take them through the boneway passage. It was treacherous to outsiders but even for the Dornish it was not easy. 

But it would bring them to Dorne faster than the Prince’s Pass. 

Princess (Y/N) sighed aloud. She had grown weary of being stuck in the wheelhouse. The Princess shared one side of the wheelhouse with Coryanne, not leaving either much room to move. 

Princess Coryanne swatted at her sister’s thigh. 

“Stop spreading your legs (Y/N), you’re squeezing me into the very corner,” she protested. 

(Y/N) sat up in her seat. “I am not spreading them, Cory there is no room for me either.”

The two sisters began to swat and shove one another. 

Prince Qoren awoke from his slumber at the noise. He cleared his throat but neither woman would stop arguing long enough to hear him.

“Enough,” the Dornish Prince yelled. 

The princesses stopped and turned to face their father. They lowered their gazes. 

“My apologies father,” Coryanne spoke. 

“It was Coryanne’s fault,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

Then suddenly the wheelhouse stopped. A knock on the door was followed by the voice of one of the knights. 

“We’ve reached the Wyl, my prince.”

Prince Qoren stood as the door to the wheelhouse opened. 

Princess (Y/N) stood to follow but her elder sister pulled her back down. 

“Cory,” (Y/N) whined but it was too late. 

Princess Coryanne had already gotten up and left the wheelhouse.

Princess (Y/N) let out another sigh then climbed out. She stepped down from the wheelhouse and walked up to her sister. 

“That was a bit childish Coryanne.”

Princess Coryanne paid her younger sister no mind. She followed her father to where the bannermen and servants started to set up tents and make fires. 

Princess (Y/N) looked around at the forest and the river before her. She took in a deep breath and filled her lungs with its refreshing smell. Then she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. 

She heard a faint rumbling. Princess (Y/N) opened her eyes and turned towards the sound. 

Trees rustled in the distance. 

With the chaos of setting up camp the guards did not have their eyes set on the princess. So she took advantage and walked into the woods.

She followed the soft rumble between the trees until she reached a clearing. 

Princess (Y/N) stopped short of the treeline. 

Before her was a dragon. A large, silvery grey dragon. 

The princess knew what dragon this was. In her time at the Red Keep one of her favorite books to read was a detailed account of all known Targaryen dragons. 

The dragon before her was Silverwing, once ridden by Queen Alysanne.

It normally resided in Dragonstone with King Jaehaerys’ dragon, Vermithor. 

She wondered what it was doing so far from there.

Princess (Y/N) edged closer. She remembered Silverwing was somewhat docile and friendly to strangers. 

Then she stopped. 

She could not approach the dragon empty handed.  

So the princess returned to her family’s campsite and stole a goat one of the knights had trapped and slain.

When she returned to Silverwing the she dragon lifted her head up. She sniffed the air and opened her eyes. 

Princess (Y/N) called out to her.

“Lyks Gēlenka tīkun lyks! [Peace Silverwing Peace]”

Silverwing blew hot air towards Princess (Y/N).

Princess (Y/N) let it wash over her then she tossed the goat closer to the dragon. Then she stepped back into the treeline.

“Ipradagon [Eat],” she commanded. 

Silverwing grabbed the goat with her mouth and swallowed it whole. 

Princess (Y/N) watched, rapt. 

She worried she would never see another dragon, but there she was in the presence of one of the oldest dragons in Westeros.

“(Y/N),” a faraway voice called. 

The princess frowned. That was her father. She had to go back.

Silverwing blew more hot air towards the princess. 

It did not seem hostile but (Y/N) did not want to overstay her welcome.

“Lyks [Peace],” the princess called.

Then she turned around and walked back to her family’s campsite.

-

Alicent gripped the chair’s hand rest, her knuckles white. Her head dipped back in ecstasy. 

With her other hand she gripped the back of Ser Criston’s head tighter as she reached the peak of her pleasure.

A wave of warmth washed over her and her legs went limp. 

She slowly let go of Ser Criston as she steadied her breathing. 

When the warmth started to leave her body the image of the Dornish Princess flooded in her mind’s eye.

Alicent squeezed her eyes shut. 

It was wrong.

Ser Criston pulled away from between the Queen dowager’s thighs and stood. He crossed the room and wiped her wetness from his face. Then he poured himself a goblet of wine and took a long drink. 

The silence between them was thick with words unsaid. 

They both knew it was wrong. 

Each for different reasons.

Ser Criston knew it went against his oath as a knight of the Kingsguard, as a white cloak. 

Alicent knew it was a betrayal of her truest love, Princess (Y/N). 

She never meant for it to happen more than once. She was so lonely after (Y/N) had left, and news of Aemond’s kinslaying had just reached her. She knew war was inevitable and it all seemed too much.

And there he was, her white knight…Ser Criston. 

In a moment of weakness, Alicent allowed Ser Criston to hold her. 

He comforted Alicent. He held her while she sobbed. 

She sobbed for Lucerys. She sobbed for Aemond’s soul. She sobbed for (Y/N). 

Alicent had cried so much that night it was a miracle her tears had not flooded the Red Keep. 

Seeing the Queen dowager in such distress moved Ser Criston to action. He professed his true feelings to the Queen dowager, and his desire to console her in a different way. 

Then he kissed her. 

Alicent was taken aback at first. She wanted to pull away but Ser Criston was warm….he was warm and gentle. His devotion and loyalty shone through his lips. 

The Queen dowager desired warmth, comfort, and softness. 

So she gave in to Ser Criston. She kissed him back.

It would be just a kiss, Alicent had promised herself.

But the day after Aemond killed Lucerys Velaryon proved to be just as harrowing as the night he had flown back to the Keep. 

Alicent needed more comfort, more warmth.

And Ser Criston gave it to her so easily.

Soon the comfort became more than a kiss.

Alicent swore to herself it would only happen once.

But there Alicent sat, spent and guilty. She watched as Ser Criston donned his armor piece by piece. 

Alicent stood and pulled her stockings up her knees, and slipped her feet back into her slippers. She looked over her shoulder at Ser Criston. 

He was still putting his armor back on. 

“There’s a chill in the air,” Alicent said, hoping to make the room feel less suffocating.

Ser Criston looked up at the Queen dowager. He did not reply.

“Summer is well and truly through,” Alicent continued. 

“We are expected at the small council, your Grace,” Criston said, not meeting the Queen dowager’s gaze.

Alicent sighed aloud and approached the kingsguard.

Ser Criston finished roping his wrist armor in place. He looked up as the Queen dowager approached.

He steeled his face. He knew what she would say. She said it every time they finished. 

Alicent met Criston’s gaze.

“We cannot. Again,” Alicent whispered. 

Ser Criston nodded. “Yes, your Grace.”

He knew it was meaningless. 

In a moment of loneliness the Queen dowager would call upon him and he would give in to her. 

Though he sometimes wondered if the Queen dowager thought of him in her peaks of pleasure, or if she thought of the Dornish Princess. 

Ser Criston grabbed his white cloak from the table and raised it up to the Queen dowager. 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he asked. 

Alicent took the cloak and quietly tacked it onto Ser Criston’s back.

Then the pair made their way to the small council hall. 

-

After a few hours of rest the caravan began anew. 

Princess (Y/N) closed her eyes and thought of Silverwing. She was elegant and graceful, her silver scales shimmered brilliantly in the fading rays of the sun. 

She had met quite a few dragons. She was most familiar with Vhagar but Helaena had once taken her to the dragon pit to see Dreamfyre and she had witnessed Aegon ride on Sunfyre one early morning at the Keep.

Nonetheless, Silverwing’s beauty was singular. 

Princess (Y/N) wondered if her dream of riding a dragon would ever come true. 

Then, as her thoughts often did since leaving King’s Landing, (Y/N)’s mind wandered to thoughts of her Alicent. 

She smiled to herself as the wheelhouse continued its journey through the boneway.

-

Exhausted after verbally sparring with her sons and father at the small council, the last person Alicent wanted to see was Lord Larys Strong. 

Unfortunately for the Queen dowager, she found him outside her chambers- waiting for her.

Alicent donned her mask of propriety and addressed him. 

He bowed his head as the Queen dowager approached. “Good morrow your Grace,” he said.

 “Good morrow Lord Larys,” Alicent replied and stopped just in front of him. 

“I’d come earlier to have a word before the small council convened but your handmaiden said that you were indisposed,” Larys said with a small, knowing, smirk. 

Alicent looked away from him and swallowed hard. Larys Strong stopped asking lewd favors of her but he still unsettled Alicent. She did not wish to linger in the shadows with him. 

“What is it you wish to discuss?”

Larys did not seem surprised by the Queen dowager’s reaction. He continued unbothered.

“I have completed questioning all of the castle staff. They produced rather interesting details but I am satisfied I have exposed all who have betrayed us.”

Alicent grew tired of speaking with Lord Larys. “And what of them?”

Larys lowered his voice.

“They no longer breathe our air. I have chosen your new staff personally.”

Dred pooled in Alicent’s stomach. She nodded slowly and turned away from Larys. 

“Thank you Lord Larys, I must see to others matters.”

Larys hobbled forwards. “There is one other matter I wish to inform you of, your Grace.”

Alicent turned back towards Lord Larys. She sighed aloud. 

“Go on,” she commanded. 

“I was just informed that the Dornish Princess’ caravan safely made it through the boneway,” Larys said, carefully studying the Queen’s reaction. 

Alicent’s eyes flickered to meet Larys’. 

He continued. “I thought your Grace would be glad to hear of it, given your close friendship with the Princess.”

The Queen dowager’s throat dried at the mention of the princess. So she cleared her throat and looked down at the ground. She turned away from Larys once again.

“Thank you for the update Lord Larys.”

Then she walked into her chambers and closed the heavy door behind her. 

Once alone she closed her eyes and sighed. 

(Y/N) was safe, Alicent was relieved to hear that, but guilt flooded her anew. 

She ordered a handmaid to draw her a bath. She suddenly felt covered in filth.

-

Princess (Y/N)’s patience with her sister was growing thin. Days on the road did not help the tensions between them. 

Thankfully the Martells arrived at Yronwood castle before the sisters resumed their bickering.

Lord Anders Yronwood welcomed the royal family at the door. At his side was his youngest son, Ser Loren Yronwood.

Princess (Y/N) greeted Lord Yronwood then wrapped her arms around Loren. 

Loren spent much of his childhood in the halls of Sunspear. His father had sent him to ward with the Martells.

Princess (Y/N) and Loren grew up together, and were each other's confidant for many years. 

Until Loren proposed to (Y/N). 

Their friendship suffered for a few years after that. Loren could not understand why (Y/N) would not marry him. He was her closest friend. He supported her desires for reading, swordplay, and adventure. Her rejection cut him deeply.

Princess (Y/N) was angry that Loren even dared to propose. Had he not listened to a word she had told him? Was he not her true friend? Did he only care for her because he felt an attraction towards her? 

Time healed both wounds.

Loren extended an olive branch and (Y/N) accepted it graciously. 

“Loren,” (Y/N) breathed as she wrapped her arms around the tall, burly, knight. 

Loren embraced (Y/N) in kind. Then he pulled away and mused her hair. “You have not changed a bit, princess.”

Lord Yronwood beckoned the family inside, and informed them supper would be ready within the hour. 

Servants led each of the family members to their chambers to freshen up. 

Princess (Y/N) fell back onto the bed and sighed. A proper bed felt nice after days of sharing a makeshift cot with Coryanne.

While resting an idea formed in (Y/N)’s mind. 

She had to find the castle’s library.

The Princess had visited the castle once or twice in her girlhood but she always had Loren to guide her. 

Princess (Y/N) stood from her bed and walked out of her chambers. She roamed the halls, and asked servants for directions, until she reached the keep’s library.

Once she found it she scoured the shelves for maps. She needed every map of Westeros she could find.

She needed to know what the fastest way back to King’s Landing would be from Sunspear. 

The Princess thought about leaving her family to return to Alicent but she had no way of traveling on her own.

So she continued to pour over the maps in the library.

A knock at the door pulled the Princess from her thoughts. 

She looked up to see her sister enter. 

Princess (Y/N) groaned. “What are you doing here,” she asked.

Princess Coryanne sat in front of (Y/N), a satisfied smirk on her face. 

“I knew you would be in the castle library.”

Princess (Y/N) returned her gaze to the maps on the desk in front of her. 

“I wish to be alone.”

“I don’t care what you wish,” Coryanne replied. 

Princess Coryanne leaned towards the desk and peered at the maps. 

“What are you looking at maps for?”

Princess (Y/N) pulled the maps towards her. “That is none of your concern.”

“Father will never let you return (Y/N), and you cannot be so foolish to think about returning alone,” Coryanne chided. 

(Y/N) shrugged. 

Princess Coryanne let out an exasperated sigh. “I will never understand why you are so intent on your own demise.”

Then she left Princess (Y/N) alone in the library. 

The tension in (Y/N)’s shoulders left as soon as the doors shut behind her sister. She put the maps to the side and realized that the right moment would never come for her to leave. She had to do it before she got any further away.

But she would need coin. 

So she went to Loren’s chambers. 

He was sat in front of the hearth and smiled when (Y/N) entered.

“Princess (Y/N), I was just going to fetch you. A handmaid informed me supper is ready.”

He crossed the room to meet the princess by the door.

Princess (Y/N) returned the knight’s smile. 

“Wonderful, but uhm…I came to ask a favor of you.”

Loren furrowed his brow. “A favor?”

“Mhm,” the princess nodded slowly.

Princess (Y/N) knew that her favor would be a large imposition. She had never requested coin from anyone before, not even her own father. Money was not something she ever had to think about.

“What is it you need of me Princess,” Loren asked. 

(Y/N)  took a deep breath. She let it out slowly and looked away from Loren.

“It is a bit embarrassing for me to ask but I am in great need of it and you are one of the few people I can trust wholeheartedly,” the princess explained. 

Loren stepped closer towards Princess (Y/N). “Anything, just ask it.”

Princess (Y/N) met Loren’s gaze. “I need you to procure some coin for me. Ideally enough for passage and lodging for a couple of weeks across a large distance.”

Loren’s brow furrowed once more. “Passage and lodging where? If it’s coin you need, can't you ask your father?”

The princess reached out and grabbed hold of Loren’s hands. “No, my father cannot know.” 

Then she gave the knight’s hands a squeeze. “I cannot tell you very much of my plans. I’m sorry for that friend but I need your help. When I am able I will pay the debt twofold. I promise.”

Loren looked into the Princess’ gaze, hoping to find more answers. All he found was fear, and worry. 

So he softened.  

“As you have said, we are friends. I will get you what you need and you do not have to worry about the debt.”

Princess (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Loren’s shoulders. She buried her face in his shoulder. 

“Thank you Loren.”

Loren wrapped his arms around the princess and sighed. Though years had passed and he knew all that could be between them was friendship his true feelings of love tugged at him. 

He would do anything for (Y/N).

“Think nothing of it. Now, let us join the rest of your family and mine for supper.”

The princess pulled away from the knight and together they made their way to the great hall for supper.

-

The handmaidens gently poured sweet smelling oils and pitchers of hot water into the tub. 

Alicent pulled her knees towards her chest.

Her mind filled with thoughts of (Y/N). 

And of her betrayal. 

One of the handmaids dipped a sponge into the warm water and started to scrub at the Queen dowager’s hand. 

Alicent watched but her mind was elsewhere. 

She recalled the morning of (Y/N)’s leave. 

The Princess wrapped her arms around the Queen. 

“I am yours,” she whispered into the Queen’s shoulder. 

Tears started to prick at the corners of Alicent’s eyes. 

So she tore her hand away from the handmaiden and took the sponge with her.

“Give me that,” Alicent snapped.

The handmaiden startled. 

“Your grace?”

The Queen dowager looked down at the water and blinked her tears away. Then she began to clean herself. “Just leave me.”

The young women in front of her did not move. They looked towards one another.

The Queen dowager continued to scrub at her arm.

“Just leave me,” she commanded once more. 

This time she looked up at each one of them. 

“Just leave,” she repeated. 

The handmaidens stood and left the Queen dowager alone at once. 

Alicent scrubbed her arm then her shoulder.

Her eyes jerked to the chair in the corner of the room. The same chair where just hours earlier she had reached the peak of her climax thanks to Ser Criston. 

Alicent started to scrub harder.

Then her eyes darted to her bed. The very bed where she had slept with (Y/N), where she gave herself over to her truest love, where she felt alive and truly loved.

And the same bed where she had slept with Ser Criston just a day after the Princess departed the Keep.

The tears she had blinked away returned. 

They streamed down the sides of Alicent’s face and cooled the bath water as they fell. 

Alicent’s skin turned red as she continued to scrub harder and harder. 

She was too filthy to get clean. 

So she stopped. 

She dropped the sponge into the tub and covered her face with her hands. 

Everything was ruined and she could not fix it. She could not stop the war that was to come. She could not get Aegon to heed her wisdom. 

And she had sullied her love with betrayal.

Alicent wiped the tears from her face and dipped her head back onto the edge of the tub. She closed her eyes and steadied her breath.

Her only comfort was that the Dornish princess would never know of the betrayal. She would be safe with her family in Sunspear. 

Far away from war and from Alicent’s filth.

-

The air was filled with scents of anise and allspice. Laughter and cheers rang out across the great table. 

Princess (Y/N) sat between her elder sister and her childhood friend Loren. 

It felt like home to (Y/N). 

Unlike supper at the Red Keep.

But even amongst the laughter, music, and revelry of Yronwood castle (Y/N)’s heart tugged with longing for intimate dinners with Alicent and breaking fast with Aemond in the library of the Red Keep. 

That had started to feel like home too.

Princess (Y/N)’s smile faded from her lips. She looked down at her plate of food and pushed around the roast lamb with her fork. 

Princess Coryanne noticed (Y/N)’s change in demeanor. What spell had the Queen cast upon her sister? 

Lord Yronwood held a hand up to silence the table. 

When everyone stilled he stood and raised a goblet.  He toasted to Prince Qoren Martell, to the health of his heir Princess Aliandra Martell, and to the good fortune of Dorne. 

Everyone at the table raised their cups and cheered.

Then the conversation at the table turned towards the latest news out of King’s Landing. 

One of the bannermen for the Yronwoods discussed the death of Lucery’s Velaryon with Qoren. 

Princess (Y/N)’s ears perked up at the familiar name. “Lucerys Velaryon has died?”

The men turned towards the young princess. 

Prince Qoren cleared his throat and his gaze met (Y/N)’s. 

“Yes, I was informed when we arrived that Prince Lucerys, and his dragon, were killed above Storm’s End.”

Princess (Y/N) furrowed her brows. “Storm’s End?”

She recalled Aemond was on his way there to secure Lord Baratheon’s support for Aegon. 

“Is Prince Aemond alright?” (Y/N) asked. 

Silence enveloped the room. Even the musicians stopped.

Prince Qoren looked over at Coryanne then back at (Y/N).

“(Y/N), it was Prince Aemond who slayed Prince Lucerys.”

Princess (Y/N)’s stomach twisted. “No that’s….that’s not possible. Aemond- Prince Aemond would never do such a thing,” she insisted and shook her head. 

Princess Coryanne reached out and covered her sister’s hand with her own. “(Y/N).”

(Y/N) pulled her hand away from her sister. “No, he couldn’t have done that.”

Then she met her father’s gaze. 

Her eyes begged him to tell her it was a lie. To tell her it was a cruel joke Coryanne asked of him. Anything.

Prince Qoren sighed. “Coryanne, I think your sister needs to retire for the night.”

Princess Coryanne nodded. “Yes father.” 

Then she stood and turned to her sister. 

Princess (Y/N) would not look away from her father. 

Her father would not meet her gaze.

Princess Coryanne tugged at her sister’s arm. 

(Y/N) swallowed hard, looked down, then stood from her seat and followed her sister out of the great hall. 

The music and laughter resumed as the sisters made their leave.

-

Alicent gathered her skirts and held them as she continued down the stairs. 

She crossed the foyer and noticed Aemond readying a horse. 

“Aemond, where are you going,” Alicent asked as she approached. 

The prince did not respond. 

Alicent closed the distance between them. She asked Aemond once again. 

“To be anywhere but here,” Aemond muttered.

Alicent softened. “Aemond, I know it has been arduous but-”

“Arduous?” Aemond scoffed. He turned to face his mother. “You know nothing of how difficult these last few days have been for me.”

Alicent reached out to cup Aemond’s face but he turned away from her. Alicent frowned.

“Aemond please, you can’t go out and make rash decisions. Not right now.”

The silver haired prince shook his head. “Something rash.” Aemond met his mother’s gaze once again. “Such as flying to Dorne and bringing Princess (Y/N) back?” he asked defiantly.

Alicent straightened at the mention of the Dornish princess. 

“You know you cannot bring her back. She is no longer your betrothed.”

Aemond clenched his jaw. “Because grandsire made Aegon give her family leave. You should have insisted they stay and declare for Aegon.”

“We could not keep them prisoner, Aemond,” Alicent replied, exasperated. “Would you have us fight two wars?” 

Aemond stepped away from his mother and ran a hand through his hair. “She would have convinced them to join us.” Then he turned back towards the Queen dowager. “She should be here, with us,” he declared.

Alicent laced her fingers in front of her. She took a breath then met Aemond’s gaze.

“And what would she have thought when you returned with news of killing Lucerys Velaryon?”

Aemond stilled, he looked away from Alicent.

Alicent continued.“She cannot come back, above all for her own safety.”

A guard walked over to the Queen dowager and informed her the wheelhouse was ready to take her to the great Sept.

Alicent thanked the guard then turned back toward her son.

“It’s what’s best,” she told him.

Aemond did not meet her gaze. He pursed his lips. “Best for whom, I wonder,” he spat then marched back inside the Keep.

Alicent let out a great sigh then turned to walk to the wheelhouse. She would light a candle and pray for Aemond.

-

Princess (Y/N) sat at the table in her chambers with a quill, ink, and parchment. She decided she would write to Alicent.

If what the bannerman said at supper was true then Alicent and Aemond needed her support more than ever.

There had to be an explanation for Aemond’s actions. Sure, he could be brash and impulsive, and he hated his cousin, but Aemond was no kinslayer. 

There had to be more that had been left out of the gossip.

A knock at the door tore the Princess out of her thoughts. 

“Enter,” she called out.

Loren walked into the room. “I hope you are doing alright (Y/N).”

Princess (Y/N) stood and walked towards Loren. 

“The news was a lot to take in,” she confessed. 

Loren nodded then reached into the bag at his side and pulled out a small pouch. 

“Here, full of golden dragons. More than enough for passage and lodging wherever you wish to go.”

He handed it to (Y/N). 

Princess (Y/N) took it. It was quite heavy and upon opening it (Y/N) confirmed it would be more than enough for her needs. 

“Thank you Loren.”

Loren shook his head. “No thanks necessary.” 

Princess (Y/N) smiled at him then tucked the pouch into a safe place.

Loren cleared his throat and the princess turned back towards him. 

“Will you tell me where you plan to go,” he asked.

Princess (Y/N) sighed. “I suppose I owe you as much.”

Loren shook his head once more. “You owe me nothing, but I do worry for your safety.”

Princess (Y/N) crossed her arms against her chest and told Loren the truth of her plans.

“Upon my family’s return to Sunspear I will pack a few items then seek passage back to King’s Landing.”

Loren furrowed his brows. “King’s Landing?”

Princess (Y/N) nodded. 

“For Prince Aemond?” Loren asked incredulously.

“Not exactly,” (Y/N) replied. Her hands dropped back down to her sides. “I am needed there.”

Loren stroked his beard pensively. “And you’re sure of this?”

“I’m certain,” the princess replied.

Loren dropped his hand from his face and sighed. “Then I wish you luck on your travels.”

Princess (Y/N) wrapped her arms around the knight’s shoulders. “Thank you, my dear friend.”

The princess swore the knight to secrecy before his departure from her chambers. 

He promised he would not tell another soul of her plans.

When Loren left, (Y/N) resumed writing her letter to Alicent.

She knew her letter would be a decent balm on Alicent’s heart until she arrived.

-

Upon her return from the sept, Alicent found Ser Criston seated near the fireplace in her chambers with his armor set aside and only in his undershirt.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent said, startled.

Ser Criston stood from his seat. “Your Grace.”

“What are you doing here,” Alicent asked, though she knew exactly why.

Ser Criston looked down at his hands. “I thought you might require my company.”

Alicent swallowed hard then looked away from Ser Criston.

“Your protection is the only thing I will require from you moving forward, Ser.”

Then she crossed the room towards the table with the pitcher of wine. She poured herself a fresh cup, her back to Ser Criston.

“Your Grace I thought-,” Ser Criston began, confused at the change in the Queen dowager’s demeanour.

Alicent whirled on her heels. “You thought wrong.”

Ser Criston stood, mouth agape. “Oh.”

A tense silence filled the room.

Alicent took a long drink from her goblet then met Ser Criston’s gaze.

“Is that all Ser Criston?”

Ser Criston furrowed his brow.

“Have I done something wrong, your Grace?”

Alicent sighed. “No.”

Ser Criston walked towards the Queen dowager and closed the distance between them.

“Have I not pleased your Grace?”

His chest heaved just a breath away from the Queen dowager’s.

Alicent looked away from Ser Criston, blush tinting her cheeks.

“It’s not that.”

Ser Criston searched the Queen dowager’s face for any answer. 

He found none. 

His heart sank.

If it was not him, not a slight he had accidentally made against her Grace, then it could only be one thing. 

Or rather, one person, that plagued the Queen dowager’s mind.

“Is it Princess (Y/N)?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Alicent’s eyes darted back towards Ser Criston. 

Ser Criston noticed the alarm in the Queen dowager’s eyes. He softened.

“I know you held a certain…affection for her.” 

The blush deepend in Alicent’s cheeks. She looked away from Ser Criston once more, unable to bear the weight of his gaze.

There was his answer.

Ser Criston clenched his jaw. He thought the Queen dowager’s torrid dalliance was behind her. 

Jealousy bubbled inside him. 

Then he sighed aloud, defeated.

“If it would help, you could think of her when I am…,” Ser Criston said then cleared his throat.

Alicent’s gaze returned to Ser Criston. 

He lowered his gaze to their bodies and gestured towards the Queen dowager’s skirts.

Blush turned to red hot embarrassment on Alicent’s face. 

She brought her cup up to her lips and downed the rest of the wine.

Ser Criston’s gaze returned to the Queen dowager.

Alicent could not look at him. 

She suddenly felt even worse about her affair with him and her betrayal of the Dornish princess.

Thankfully the conversation would end there. 

Helaena rushed into the Queen dowager’s chambers with her daughter, Jaehaera, in her arms.

Ser Criston immediately stepped away from the Queen dowager.

Alicent noticed the distress in her daughter’s face. “Helaena?”

Helaena did not answer. She walked behind the partition in Alicent’s apartment and sank to the ground against the room’s wall. 

Alicent followed her daughter. 

“What’s happened?”

Helaena started to rock back and forth, her daughter still in her arms. 

“They killed the boy.”

The Queen dowager and Ser Criston shared a horrified look before they heard the screams outside in the halls. 

-

Princess (Y/N) was startled awake in the early hours of dawn.

Her sister’s hair tickled her nose as she woke.

“(Y/N),” she heard her sister call. 

(Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open. 

“Cory?”

Princess Coryanne’s face was wracked with worry. 

“A raven has just come from King’s Landing.”

(Y/N) sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “King’s landing?”

“I thought you would want to know. It came for father but I have a guard inform me any time he receives news,” Coryanne explained.

“What is the news?” (Y/N) probed.

Princess Coryanne took a deep, slow, breath before she continued. “They have killed the new Queen’s son.”

“Helaena’s son?” (Y/N) asked incredulously. 

The elder sister nodded. 

Princess (Y/N) furrowed her brow. “But he’s just a boy. Who would do such a thing?”

“That is not known but I assume it was Princess Rhaenyra, or someone who is loyal to her, in revenge for her own son’s murder.”

(Y/N)’s vision blurred as tears formed in her eyes. How could anyone order the murder of such a young, innocent, boy?

Surely Princess Rhaenyra would not be capable of such depravity.

Princess Coryanne placed a comforting hand atop (Y/N)’s. 

“I needed to tell you (Y/N). If the Targaryens will not hesitate to kill an innocent boy of their own blood they will not hesitate to put you in harm’s way,” Coryanne warned.

(Y/N) frowned. “How could you even think that?”

Princess Coryane pulled her hand away from her sister and smoothed the skirts of her dress. “I know you think me uncaring (Y/N) but you are my sister, you are my family. I do not want to see you killed, or worse, for a woman that does not truly love you.”

Anger shot up inside of the younger sister. Of course Coryanne took the death of a poor boy to manipulate her against Alicent. 

“What could a woman as cold and conniving as you know of true love,” (Y/N) spat thoughtlessly.

No sooner than the words had come out of her mouth did (Y/N) regret them.

Princess Coryanne raised her hand and slapped her sister’s cheek.

Princess (Y/N)’s head jerked to the side. She held her cheek.

“You could never understand what my Edric and I shared before his untimely passing. A love lived so fully and in the light, one you will never know,” Coryanne declared, her nostrils flaring with each word.

(Y/N) looked down at the furs of the bed. Coryanne had pushed her and she pushed her sister in turn but (Y/N) had crossed a line. She knew that.

“I’m sorry Cory. My words were thoughtless.”

Princess (Y/N) took her sister’s silence as acceptance of her apology. She brought her gaze back up to her sister’s and looked at her pleadingly.

“But what Alicent and I share is just as special as what you and Lord Edric had. I must get back to her.”

Tears streamed down the sides of Princess Coryanne’s face. The memory of her deceased betrothed too much for her to bear.

“She does not wish for you to return,” Coryanne replied as she wiped the tears with a handkerchief.

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed. “How would you know?”

Princess Coryanne blew her nose with the handkerchief then met her sister’s gaze. “As we made our leave that morning in King’s Landing she whispered to me to ensure you never returned.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You misunderstood her.”

“(Y/N) when will you understand your love for her will be your undoing,” Coryanne asked with a large sigh.

Princess (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps she will be my undoing, but I would rather die beside her than live without her.”

“Foolish girl,” Coryanne chided, then stood from the bed. 

Princess Coryanne made her way towards the door, opened it, then turned back to her sister. 

She opened her mouth as if to speak then closed it. She shook her head then took her leave. 

Princess (Y/N) had come to a decision during her conversation with her sister. She could not wait until they reached Sunspear to return to Alicent. 

With the news of Prince Jaehaerys’ passing (Y/N)’s return was needed more than ever. 

So the princess stood from her bed and got dressed. Then she made her way towards her trunks and filled a sheepskin bag with clean undergarments, and the bag of coin Loren had procured for her.

Finally, Princess (Y/N) donned her cloak and made her way towards the door. There she turned back to see if she had forgotten anything. 

An open trunk with all of her books brought a sad smile to (Y/N)’s lips. In another time she would have brought one or two for the journey ahead of her but such girlhood folly was behind her. 

No book could prepare her for what laid ahead.

-

Princess (Y/N) knelt in front of the statue of the Mother in the small sept inside Yronwood castle. 

The Yronwoods were the most devout of the Dornish families. 

(Y/N) lit a candle for Prince Jaehaerys, Queen Helaena, and for Alicent. They would all need the Mother’s strength.

In the sanctity of the sept she felt closer to Alicent. 

Princess (Y/N) closed her eyes and prayed for them.

“When the handmaid stirred me from my sleep at such an hour I thought it would be to inform me of grave news, not to be summoned by you,” Loren chided as he entered the sept.

Princess (Y/N) stood from the altar and crossed the room towards Loren.

“I’m sorry for waking you at this hour Loren but I am in need of another favor from you.”

Loren nodded slowly. “What is it?”

“I need a horse. Any horse your family can spare.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek. She had asked so much of Loren in such a short time.

Loren’s brow rose in surprise.

“A horse? What for?”

(Y/N) steadied her breath. “I have to leave for King’s Landing this very morning.”

Loren let out a nervous laugh. “(Y/N) that is madness.”

“I have no choice. They need me in King’s Landing.” Princess (Y/N) closed the distance between her and Loren. She placed a hand on his chest to stress the importance of her quest. 

Loren sighed and shook his head. 

“You cannot travel by horse on your own.”

(Y/N)’s hand dropped from Loren’s chest. She turned away from him, frustrated. “I am not a child, Loren. I know to be cautious.”

Loren crossed his arms against his chest. 

“You are a woman, a high born one at that. You will not make it through the boneway alone.”

(Y/N)’s nerves frayed with every moment that passed. She turned back to face Loren. “I have to leave now, Loren,” she pleaded.

Loren put a hand up to quiet the Princess. “I won’t stop you princess but I cannot let you leave alone,” he explained.

Princess (Y/N) shook her head. “No, I could not ask that of you.”

“Then it is good you are not asking,” he replied with a small smile.

Princess (Y/N) tilted her head and met the knight’s gaze. “Why would you risk your life for me?”

“The same reason you are risking your life for Prince Aemond.”

Not Aemond, (Y/N) thought to herself.

Princess (Y/N) nodded slowly. “Alright, let us depart at once.” 

“Wonderful,” Loren said and clapped his hands together. He let out a small hum then said, “I’ll have my men ready two horses. Meet me at the stables in fifteen minutes. We’ll need to leave quickly. Thankfully, most of the household has yet to wake.”

Princess (Y/N) agreed to meet the knight at the stables. Then he left to gather his things and ready the horses for their leave.

Now alone, (Y/N) debated her next move. A part of her wanted to say goodbye to her sister and father. She did not want them to worry. 

But could she defy her father if he forbade her from leaving?

Then she sighed. She knew she owed her father an explanation.

So the princess made her way to the guest chambers where her father slept. A guard outside his door bowed his head to her as she arrived. 

“Good morrow Princess. Shall I announce your arrival to your father?”

(Y/N) gnawed on the inside of her cheek. 

Was this the right decision?

“Princess?” The guard asked.

Princess (Y/N) shook her head. “It’s alright. I shall speak with him when we break fast.”

The guard nodded. “Very well princess.”

(Y/N) turned around and made her way towards the castle stables. 

She had a hard journey ahead of her, she could not let her streak of cowardice continue.

-

Alicent hung her head in shame, her curls loose about her face. Tears continued to stream down her face.

Her father sat behind her, facing the hearth. He spoke calmly. 

“The gates have been shut. The search progresses. The villain will be found, we mustn't be shaken by this.”

Alicent shook her head. How could he be so resolute after such an act of depravity?

Otto Hightower continued. “This act, the child-”

“The child is dead,” Alicent snapped. She raised her head but did not look at her father. “His pain has ended but what they’ve done to my- to my girl,” Alicent stuttered. 

Her chest started to heave uncontrollably. She could not control her breathing. The tears continued to blur her vision.

Otto rose from his seat. “Yes and,” he began and crossed the room towards his daughter. “- they will pay for this,” he declared and placed a comforting hand on his daughter’s back.

Alicent shrugged off her father’s hand. She turned towards the window of her chambers.

“Who will pay?

Her father sighed.

“Whoever’s hand did this or caused it to be done,” he replied, slightly irritated.

Alicent turned to face her father. Her breathing had steadied but the tears had not stopped. Alicent wrapped her arms around her waist.

“And what if the hand who's done it is not the one who must be blamed?” She asked him, her gaze fixed on the ground. 

Her father did not respond, he let out another sigh.

Alicent shook her head then sank into the seat in front of her. She covered her face with her hands. “The gods punish us. They punish me,” she cried.

Otto approached his daughter.

“For what sin?”

Alicent looked up at her father, her lip quivering. 

Otto Hightowered lowered his head and whispered to his daughter, “We mourn as we must but some good may yet come of this.”

Alicent furrowed her brows. What could her father possibly mean? It was clear to her that the Gods were punishing her for her wickedness.

-

Princess (Y/N) walked out to the castle stables. She rounded the corner to enter them and stopped short when she realized her sister stood before her.

“Cory.”

Princess Coryanne stood at the entrance of the stables, her arms folded against her chest.

“I knew you were going to do something foolish.”

(Y/N) scoffed and attempted to push past her sister.

Princess Coryanne placed a hand against her sister’s chest and pushed her back.

Princess (Y/N) struggled against Coryanne’s grip.

“I need to go. Alicent needs me.”

Princess Coryanne brought her face close to her sister’s.

“Your family needs you,” she declared. “Do we not matter anymore?”

Princess (Y/N) stopped her struggle. She took a few steps back and Coryanne dropped her hand from her sister’s chest.

“Father has you,” (Y/N) replied. “Besides, Aliandra is his heir. I am not needed here.”

Princess Coryanne shook her head.“Father will disown you. What will you do then?”

(Y/N) began to respond but her sister raised a hand to quiet her.

Princess Coryanne continued. 

“Or worse, he won’t forsake you and you will drag Dorne into a needless war. Thousands of good Dornish men will perish as their ancestors did to dragons, and for what? So the Queen dowager can fuck you like a common whore?”

Anger once again rose inside of (Y/N). She shoved her sister.

“Do not speak of her like that.”

Princess Coryanne steadied herself then stepped in front of (Y/N) once more.

“You fight so fiercely for her but I doubt she would do the same for you.”

Princess (Y/N) sighed. She was tired of Coryanne’s games.

“I don’t care.”

Coryanne stared at her sister, utterly dumbfounded. “You don’t care?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “If I am a fool then I am a fool. If Alicent is my demise then I gladly go towards her.”

Princess Coryanne approached her sister and cupped (Y/N)’s face with her hands.

“I cannot lose you too sister.”

(Y/N) softened. “I’m sorry, but I have to go to her.”

Princess Coryanne sighed. “Will you truly not be swayed against such folly?”

(Y/N) shook her head once more.

“Alright then,” Coryanne replied, defeated. She dropped her hands from her sister’s face and reached into the pocket of her dress. 

Princess Coryanne brought forth a coin purse. She handed it to (Y/N).

Her sister took it hesitantly. “What is this?”

Princess Coryanne wrapped her sister’s hands around the coin purse.

“Keep it well hidden. I know you asked Loren for coin but you will need to keep more close to you.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Thank you Cory.”

Then the younger sister tucked the coin purse into her sheepskin bag.

Princess Coryanne’s eyes swept over her sister, one last time. Then she brought her sister against her. She wrapped her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders.

“Please be safe (Y/N). Care for her but do not forget to care for yourself,” she whispered.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around her sister. “I will,” she promised.

Coryanne slowly pulled away from (Y/N). She held her sister at arm’s length.

“Tell father I am sorry, tell him not to worry,” (Y/N) requested.

Princess Coryanne nodded and gave her sister a small smile. 

“Write as soon as you are able.”

(Y/N) returned Coryanne’s smile. “I will.” 

Princess (Y/N) turned to walk into the stables but her sister pulled her back into another embrace.

(Y/N) let out a small laugh but she wrapped her arms around her sister once again. She gave her sister a tight squeeze.

“I love you Cory,” (Y/N) whispered into her sister’s shoulder.

Princess Coryanne pulled away from her sister once more and placed a kiss on (Y/N)’s forehead.

“I love you too baby sister,” Coryanne replied with tears in her eyes.

(Y/N) pulled away from her sister before she saw the tears fall. She knew she would not have the strength to leave if they did.

She did not look back as she walked into the stables. 

-

Helaena clutched a green blanket with golden embroidery. 

Alicent entered the room quietly. She knew she had to be gentle with Helaena.

“There is to be a funeral for Jahaerys,” she said evenly.

Helaena did not turn to look at her mother. She let the blanket drop to her side.

Alicent stepped forwards. “We’ve been asked to ride in a wagon behind his body.” 

At this Helaena turned to face her mother. 

“I don’t want to,” she protested.

Alicent continued forward. “Neither do I,” she confessed.

Helaena shook her head. 

Alicent sighed. “But when a thing like this happens, a blow to the king is a blow to the realm. When the people share our grief they draw closer to us,” she explained.

Helaena crossed the room away from her mother. 

“I don’t want them closer. I don’t know them.”

Alicent stepped towards her daughter. “Sometimes we have to pretend.”

Helaena turned and met her mother’s gaze.

“Why?”

Alicent folded her hands in front of her. “We are representatives of the throne, we have a duty.”

Helaena frowned.

Alicent once again began to close the distance between them. “Helaena, what you saw last night when you came to my room-”

Helaena resumed shaking her head. She shoved the blanket into her mother’s hands then turned away from her once more.

“For my boy,” she said.

Then Helaena reached for the wooden dragon figure on the table. She caressed the rough edges and smiled fondly at it.

Alicent took a deep breath then began anew. “What you saw Helaena-”

Helaena once again cut her mother off. “The princess is on her way home,” she declared.

Alicent furrowed her brow. “Yes dear, Princess (Y/N)’s family is safely on their way home.”

“No,” Helaena insisted. “(Y/N) is on her way home. She will be here soon.” 

The Queen dowager’s stomach sank. The princess was the last person she wished to see. If she could not protect her daughter or her grandson she would not be able to protect her lover. 

Not from those that sought her family’s destruction and not from Alicent herself.

-

Hours on horseback left a deep soreness in Princess (Y/N)’s thighs. She ached for respite. 

Thankfully Loren informed her they were near the Wyl. They would make camp and let the horses rest and drink.

Princess (Y/N) recalled her family making camp in a similar area. She briefly wondered if the dragon would still be in the clearing. 

She helped Loren set up a small tent and watched as he made a fire. The sun was high in the sky but as they traveled North the sun’s warmth did not reach them the way it did in Dorne.

“How long will we stay here,” (Y/N) asked. 

She did not want to dally for too long. 

Loren stood and dusted himself off. “Not very long. The horses will need about an hour or two of rest then we may resume our journey.”

Princess (Y/N) nodded. “Good.”

Loren sat against the wide base of a tree. “You should get some sleep. You were up even earlier than I was.”

“I’m alright, you can rest if you’d like.”

Loren nodded. “Alright then, just don’t wander off and alert me if you hear anything.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) promised.

Then the knight closed his eyes and soon his breath slowed in a deep sleep.

Princess (Y/N) curiosity grew, she had to know if the dragon was still in the clearing. She knew it was unlikely…but the thought gnawed at her.

So she stood and walked into the woods. She did not recall the path she had taken exactly but figured she could find her way.

Sure enough, she soon emerged into the clearing where just days ago the ancient dragon Silverwing had nested.

(Y/N) frowned.

Silverwing was not there.

The wind whipped through the trees. Prince (Y/N) drew her cloak tighter around her then she turned and returned the way she had come.

-

The Queen dowager watched as the maid finished pouring the last pitcher of hot water. She bowed her head towards the Queen dowager then took her leave. 

Alicent followed the handmaid out to the door. She stared at the back of Ser Criston’s head. 

“Have you told anyone?”

Ser Criston looked back at the Queen dowager in disbelief.

“What do you take me for?”

The Queen dowager swallowed hard, her voice quivered when she spoke. “One who seeks absolution.”

Ser Criston’s gaze fell to the floor.

“There is none for what I have done,” he whispered.

Alicent closed the door and walked back to the bathtub. She quickly undressed and lowered herself into the tub.

She submerged her body and head below the water. Alicent was tired. She needed the world to slow down. Too much happened too soon. 

Alicent opened her eyes while under water and watched as her breath left her. 

The Queen dowager laid there until her lungs began to burn. She resurfaced begging for air. 

Alicent filled her lungs then let out soft cries. 

-

Princess (Y/N) and her companion Ser Loren Yronwood rode their horses for hours, well into the night. 

As it neared the hour of the bat they reached a small village along the King’s road. 

Ser Loren suggested they stay in an inn for the night and continue their travel on the morrow. 

The princess did not want to stop; she wanted to see her love.

But she knew to listen to Loren. He had seen much more of the world than she. 

So they paid for a room at the local inn. They posed as husband and wife to guarantee their safety. 

Then Loren led the princess to the tavern nearby for supper. 

At the tavern, they heard word of the funeral procession for the young Prince Jahaerys. 

Ser Loren looked at princess (Y/N). 

Princess (Y/N) schooled her features into one of passive indifference. 

Upon their return to the inn Loren informed the princess he would sleep on the ground. 

The princess thanked Loren for his chivalry. 

The following morning (Y/N) awoke before Ser Loren. 

She wrapped her cloak around herself  and crossed the room to the window. She opened the window and took in a deep breath of fresh air. 

(Y/N) was so close to Alicent but still so far away. They would venture another full day of travel before they reached the gates of King’s Landing.

As she gazed out onto the village she noticed a looming shadow in the clouds above. The shadow formed into a familiar shape. 

So she hastily grabbed her slippers and put them on. Then she raced down and out of the inn. She ran to the end of the road and watched as the shadow dipped closer, under the cover of the clouds. 

It was a dragon. 

Princess (Y/N) smiled. 

The dragon dropped closer and (Y/N) realized it was Silverwing. Her heart raced. 

Silverwing dipped down into the forest surrounding the village. 

An idea formed in her mind. 

She returned to the inn to find Loren, his armor hastily put on, at the door. 

“(Y/N)! I was so worried,” he exclaimed.

Princess (Y/N) smiled sheepishly. “My apologies Loren, I saw something and had to go outside to get a better view.”

“You could have woken me up to accompany you,” Loren chided with a sigh.

The princess pushed past Loren to enter the room.

“Well you’re awake now, so accompany me.”

Loren furrowed his brow. “Where?”

(Y/N) handed Loren some coins from her sheepskin bag. 

“Go buy a pig while I get dressed.”

“A pig? A whole pig?” Loren’s brow remained furrowed.

Princess (Y/N) nodded. “Yes, now go.”

Loren sighed but turned towards the door. 

The princess began to undo the knot of her cloak when she recalled she had something else for Loren to do. 

“Wait,” she called. 

Loren stopped and turned back towards the princess. 

“Yes princess?”

The princess walked up to Loren and handed him a small rolled up scroll. 

“Please send this raven to my father. It’s just to let him know we’ll be in King’s Landing by the time it reaches him, and that we are alright.”

Loren nodded then walked out of the room. 

Princess (Y/N) quickly changed into her dress from the previous day and ran a comb through her hair to tidy it into a braid. 

Then she collected her things and made her way outside. There she found Ser Loren, with a pig at the end of a piece of rope.

“One pig,” he said and handed the reins over to (Y/N). 

Princess (Y/N) thanked him then led him into the forest nearby. 

After a few minutes of walking Loren asked (Y/N) what they were walking to.

“A dragon,” (Y/N) responded nonchalantly.

Ser Loren stopped walking.

“A dragon? Are you mad?”

Princess (Y/N) stopped and turned around to face Loren.

“You can stay here if you would like. I am not afraid.”

Loren frowned. “I’m not afraid either.”

“Sure you aren’t,” (Y/N) replied then turned back towards the forest.

She continued through the trees until she saw the outline she was looking for. 

In the distance she could see something large and grey. 

Princess (Y/N) smiled and picked up her pace. 

She reached the edge of the forest, and just on the other side was the clearing. Her eyes raked over the resting dragon. 

Silverwing was as magnificent as she had recalled.

Ser Loren remained farther back. He had never seen a dragon so close, and he did not wish to get closer. 

“Princess (Y/N), perhaps we should leave. This is not safe,” he whispered.

The princess sighed. “It’s alright Loren. She won’t hurt us unless we give her reason to. Stay there,” she commanded. 

Then she walked into the clearing, the pig in tow. 

Silverwing’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of footsteps nearing. She turned her head towards (Y/N), and blew smoke in her face. 

Princess (Y/N) closed her eyes and let the heat wash over her. 

When it passed she opened them and called out to Silverwing. 

“Gīda gēlenka tīkun, gīda (Peace silverwing, peace),” (Y/N) cooed.

She inched forward with the pig then weighed down the rope with a nearby rock so the pig could not flee. 

Then she walked backwards. 

“Ipradagon (Eat),” Princess (Y/N) commanded.

Silverwing blew more smoke out of her nose then swallowed the pig whole. Her throat hummed contentedly. 

Princess (Y/N)’s body inched forward once more. 

Loren called out for her. “Alright princess, you fed the beast now let’s go.”

But Princess (Y/N) didn’t want to.

She continued forward. 

Silverwing turned her attention towards (Y/N). 

The dragon blew out more hot smoke towards (Y/N), a warning…or a welcome.

“Gīda gēlenka tīkun (peace silverwing).”

Princess (Y/N) continued towards the dragon. 

The dragon swerved her head to the other side. 

The princess closed the gap and placed her palm against the dragon’s throat. 

It was hot, just like Vhagar’s. 

(Y/N) smiled wide.

She had done this all on her own. 

But Silverwing started to stir. She raised her neck and started to flap her wings.

And before the princess knew it Loren was pulling her back towards the trees. 

Princess (Y/N) watched Silverwing fly away. 

Her heart raced in her chest. 

“That was madness,” Loren said as he tried to catch his own breath. 

(Y/N) looked back towards him and smiled. 

Loren shook his head and released the princess. “I have never heard of anyone touching a dragon that wasn’t a Targaryen or dragonkeeper. Perhaps you truly were meant to be one?”

“A dragon keeper or Targaryen?” Princess (Y/N) countered.

“Both,” Loren replied. 

The pair shared a laugh.

Loren straightened himself out. “Let’s head back to the tavern to break fast then get our horses and be on our way.”

Princess (Y/N) nodded. “Will we make it to King’s Landing by nightfall?”

“Not exactly, we’ll be just short of the hour of the wolf.”

Princess (Y/N) sighed. “Lovely.”

The pair walked back the path they had come.

-

After a long day Alicent wanted nothing more than to sink onto her bed and sleep. 

She entered her chambers and began to remove her jewelry.

Then she turned her head and noticed Ser Criston seated on her bed, in his undershirt.

Alicent sighed and approached him.

Ser Criston stood and met the Queen dowager in front of the bed. 

They stood in front of one another in silence.

Alicent raised her hand and slapped Ser Criston.

He clenched his jaw then returned his gaze to the Queen dowager.

Alicent’s heart started to race. She brought her hand up and struck him once more.

Again, Ser Criston clenched his jaw then returned his gaze onto the Queen dowager.

Alicent’s breathing quickened. Her palm tingled with the sting of her strikes. She met Ser Criston’s gaze. 

His eyes begged for her forgiveness. 

Alicent’s throat tightened. 

How dare he ask for her forgiveness? When he sullied her first.

Alicent shoved the Kingsguard, anger rose inside her.

Ser Criston did not stagger. He held his ground. 

 So Alicent stepped forward and pushed him once more, this time with all her might.

Ser Criston took a step back but steadied himself. His gaze firmly set on the Queen dowager.

Alicent’s anger threatened to boil over.

The anger was truly at herself, at her own weakness and selfishness…her wickedness.

But she told herself her anger was at Ser Criston.

On his wickedness.

Alicent continued to shove Ser Criston. She did not stop. 

She did not meet Ser Criston’s gaze. She couldn’t. 

Alicent did not stop the tears that flowed down the sides of her face. 

She did not stop the anger from spilling forth through her hands.

The hands that shoved Ser Criston until his back was up against the wall of her chamber.

Even then, Alicent brought her hands up to shove Ser Criston once more.

But Ser Criston grabbed the Queen dowager’s hands and stopped her.

He twisted the pair around.

Now pinned to the wall Alicent brought her gaze up to Ser Criston’s.

Her chest heaved. Her anger was spent. 

Ser Criston looked down at the Queen dowager. Slowly, he leaned his head towards her.

Push him away, Alicent thought. You can’t, not again.

But the Queen dowager did not push Ser Criston away.

Instead she closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his lips against hers.

The gods had already punished her for her wickedness, Alicent reasoned.

Her father was banished from the Keep. Once again she would be alone.

Alicent was unable to comfort her eldest son and her daughter in their grief.

So what good would pushing away Ser Criston’s warm lips do?

She was wicked.

Ser Criston let go of the Queen dowager’s hands.

Alicent’s hand immediately dug through Ser Criston’s curls. She brought his lips closer to hers and deepened their kiss.

The knight moaned softly into their kiss. 

His hands started to hitch the Queen’s skirts up to her thighs. 

The Gods could not punish her any more than they already had.

Alicent needed the comfort of Ser Criston’s devotion. 

So much had happened, and none of it was hers to control.

But Ser Criston was hers. All hers.

Alicent let go of Ser Criston’s hair and brought his hand between her thighs. With her hand she directed the knight’s fingers exactly where she wanted them. 

At least this she could control. 

-

The hours on horseback started to feel endless to (Y/N). Her thighs ached and chafed against the saddle under her.

The sun had set mere minutes before and Loren assured her they would be at the Keep before the hour of ghosts. 

So Princess (Y/N) urged her horse forward. 

Thankfully, after a few more minutes (Y/N) and Loren emerged from the forest and saw the gates of King’s Landing looming across the clearing.

Princess (Y/N) smiled and turned towards Loren.

Loren smiled back. “No turning back after we make it past the gates. Are you sure you want to do this?”

The princess nodded. “They need me.”

Loren sighed aloud. “Then let us hurry.”

Loren gave the reins a snap and his horse started towards the gates. (Y/N) followed close behind him.

The pair were allowed through the gates of King’s Landing without issue. Loren handed the guards a hefty amount of golden dragons and they were happy to let them through.

They continued through the barren streets of the town towards the gates of the Red Keep.

Princess (Y/N)’s stomach filled with butterflies as they neared the gates. 

Her excitement was palpable but so were her nerves. Her throat dried as they continued their march toward the castle.

The moon was high in the sky when Loren and the princess reached the gates of the Red Keep. 

A guard ordered them to stop and state their business so late. 

Loren looked to (Y/N). 

Princess (Y/N) cleared her throat. “I seek an audience with the Queen dowager. Inform her the Dornish princess has arrived.”

The guard turned to another guard and whispered to him. The second guard nodded and ran into the Keep. 

The first guard ordered the pair to wait outside the gates.

Loren marched his horse closer. 

“She is a princess of Dorne. The Queen will have your head for keeping us outside in this bitter cold.”

The guard furrowed his brow in thought. Then he turned towards the princess. 

Princess (Y/N) smiled down at the guard. “My family and I departed less than a week ago from the Keep. Surely you would not forget me?”

The guard nodded. “Of course princess,” he acquiesced and ordered other guards to let the pair through.

(Y/N)’s heart beat loudly in her chest. Alicent was closer than ever. Her palms started to sweat but she couldn’t help but smile. She had kept her promise. 

She had returned to her true love.

-

The Queen dowager was stirred awake by one of her handmaidens. 

She awoke and furrowed her brow. “What is the meaning of this?”

The handmaiden stepped away from the bed and bowed her head. “Apologies your Grace but a guard informed me the Dornish princess has returned and seeks an urgent audience with you.”

Alicent’s throat went dry. 

The princess? Her princess? 

Alicent’s head swung to the other side of her bed. 

Thank the Gods she was alone. 

Then she turned back to her handmaiden. 

“Bring me my robe, quickly,” she ordered. 

 The handmaiden grabbed the Queen dowager’s robe from the partition where the Queen dowager dressed. Then she slid it onto the Queen dowager as she made her way towards the door. 

Alicent tied the robe around her waist as she hurried towards the Keep’s entrance. 

Her heart rang loudly in her ears. 

Princess Coryanne had promised her (Y/N) would not return. She had promised to keep (Y/N) safe.

But of course (Y/N) got away. 

Of course she trekked through dangerous forests and villages to get back to Alicent.

(Y/N) was pure. 

Her love knew no bounds.

Bile rose in Alicent’s throat. 

She continued towards the entrance. She reached the top of the great staircase and started down them.

The doors of the Keep opened just as Alicent neared the bottom of the staircase.

The world stilled as Alicent laid eyes on Princess (Y/N).

She looked just as beautiful as Alicent recalled. One would never guess the princess had traveled for days.

“(Y/N),” Alicent breathed.

Her sun had returned to her. 

The Princess walked into the Keep. Her eyes rose up and met Alicent’s.

A wide smile spread across (Y/N)’s face. 

Tears pooled in Alicent’s eyes. 

“Alicent,” (Y/N) called out.

The Queen dowager raced down the remaining steps and started towards the princess.

Then Alicent recalled the image of Ser Criston’s face between her thighs in her mind’s eye.

Alicent stopped short of where the princess stood. 

She would not be able to keep her betrayal from (Y/N). She could not lie to her.

And if she could not lie to (Y/N), she would surely lose her.

Tears ran down the sides of Alicent’s face. 

“Your grace,” (Y/N) asked, her brow furrowed.

The princess stepped forward and closed the gap between them.

“Are you not pleased to see me?” she whispered.

Alicent looked up at the lit candles of the chandeliers of the Keep. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

She was more certain than ever the Gods were truly punishing her.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Danny Phantom Gets Summoned Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Ringback by kelpeigh (chitaqua) - Not Rated

“I think we’re on hold.” a soft voice hedges. Four hoods twist as the group looks to their youngest member. She continues, “This is just a ringback tone. Don’t you have one, Steph— uh, Shadowlux?” “You’re right.” The cloaked man next to her answers. “We’re totally on hold.” - A summoning au where Danny can only be summoned as Phantom, and anyone who tries when he's human has to wait until he happens to go ghost again.

Is This Just A Thing that Girls Do? by newdog14 - Rated T

“Yeah, and about that,” The Ghost King said, pinching the bridge of nose in frustration. “You found an archaic book of magic with a summoning spell for the Ghost King, who you believed to be evil, and then you used said spell to bring me here and bind me to answer questions, and you did this so you could ask me about a middle schooler’s crush?” “We also want to know what the secret of life is,” Cori said, crossing her arms defensively. “42,” he answered without hesitation.

after school summons by blueh - Rated T

"So this is the fabled Ghost King," the man says like he expected better. Danny feels he should almost be offended if it isn't for the tiny detail that these cultists—who summoned him by using salt and goat bones—assume he is the ghost king. "…Did you seriously confuse me with Pariah Dark?" The man pauses. "Pariah Dark?" "Yes! He's like fifteen feet tall, has a huge sword, is a pain in the ass, and has, like, an entire ghost army. I have, I dunno, pre-calc homework in my bag. We are not the same." Or: Danny accidentally gets summoned. He’s not happy about it.

AfterSchool Special: Psst! Summoners After You! by GothMoth - Rated G

How to piss off that weird kid at school: very rudely summon him, bombard him with questions like this is his fault, tell him he’d look better dead, and use this as an excuse to give him homework

Summoning by DP_Marvel94 - Rated T

When Jack and Maddie Fenton tried to summon the King of All Ghosts, the last thing they expected was the sudden appearance of a very familiar, very human boy wearing spaceship pajamas and with a toothbrush halfway to his mouth.

11:30 on a Tuesday by piece_of_pierce - Not Rated

Danny is home from school, recovering from a bad fight, and just trying to let himself heal. Then, Danny is standing in his classroom, in a summoning circle, in his PJ's. AKA: Why is Danny's class unsupervised and trying to summon a ghost at 11:30 on a Tuesday? Danny doesn't even care anymore.

Summoned To A Rude Awakening by Kimcat - Rated G

Dash tries to summon Phantom, it doesn't go very well. Danny just wants to sleep after everything hes been through.

[incestcoffinfucker23]

Honestly, of course I feel bad for the kids in Flowers in the Attic because even though they're children of incest it's not their fault. If they weren't in that attic space for so long being abused by their mother and crazy religious grandmother I bet you half of the incestuous things that happened wouldn't have. You place two teenage siblings (obviously Carrie and Cory were locked up too but they're like 5 so this doesn't apply to them) who know jack all about anything in a confined space and expect them to not eventually develop non-sibling like feelings towards another. Chris and Cathy also had to raise their two younger siblings which only could've amplified everything. I'm astonished just how long Chris managed to last without acting on his ever developing teenage brain and props to Cathy for stepping up and being the best mom to the twins. Of course that position was forced upon her but it's still impressive nonetheless. 

Corrine when I fucking get you. First you have kids with your half-uncle, which okay whatever girl, but then you groom your son? Learn to quit, Incest Queen!!!! Of course you'd remarry a guy younger than you 🙄 you wanna fuck your son. I still can't get over the fact that the Grandma was so convinced that the kids were already incestuous? Like, bitch, obviously if you put them in an attic for years as their hormones are running rampant there's gonna be crazy codependency leading to incest! Rip Freud you would've loved this book. Anyways... I really liked this book and I'm excited to read the rest of the series because I want to know what happens after the three escape. I'll for sure be making more posts rambling about it because I annotated and wrote down three pages of notes so—

[espace--positif]

A Dragon Age Newbie's First Impressions of Inquisition Companions [Part 1/?]

SO. I've acquired ye olde Dragon Age brainrot after completing Veilguard and starting Inquisition. I have a lot of Thoughts and Ideas TM about both games, so while I decide whether I should make a separate blog for DA, enjoy this messy post on my first impressions of all the Inquisition companions. I also wanna be able to look back at this and see whether my judgments were right or wrong lmao. Yes this is what I'm doing instead of writing fics.

Spoilers for... I don't know where I'm at in Inquisition man. I just got to Skyhold and did a few missions. And MAJOR DAV spoilers, probably. Under the cut.

Cassandra

CASSANDRA PENTAGHAST THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE.

she honestly grew on me a lot. I knew I wanted to like her from like, the opening scene. she just exudes intensity, and you can immediately tell that she cares. she, however did not like my Lavellan one bit, and disapproved of every single choice I made for a while 😭

early game Cassandra whenever Lavellan breathed:

but she honestly feels like the realest, and maybe most good-hearted character in all of DAI. conflicted, caring, under far too much pressure, and with a cold exterior that isn't just there for the sake of being unapproachable. she second-guesses all of her choices, which I believe is HEALTHY for someone who has that much power.

as I progress through the game and get to know her more, I just end up liking her even more. she also knows how to disagree with you, on small and large things, while keeping an open mind and trying to understand your reasoning - that also encourages me to hear her out. I truly enjoy that about her! her VA is also STELLAR, I just love to hear her talk!!

overall, 10/10 no notes.

Solas

oh you motherfucker.

so DAV Varric (or whoever it was who said this) lied when he said this rat egg man doesn't lie to your face and only lies by omission.

"I know about the fade because of my studies in ancient ruins" "I know about spirits because I befriended them in my dreams"

what if I punched you in the throat? ok but in all honesty. I'm trying to do the Solavellan ting and, well, he's got game. I'll give him that. I was positively shook at the first fade dream thing. they teach you how to rizz up dalish women in those ancient elven ruins? 🤨

speaking of dalish. why is he so mad that Lavellan is dalish LMAO. my ass chose the "proudly dalish" option and he DISAPPROVED. it's not Lavellan's fault that that one dalish clan threw rocks at you when you told them you were fen'harel! damn...

overall? I need to see how badly he betrays her to make a better judgment. will it be worse than the DAV betrayal? probably. will I eat it up? absolutely.

Varric

VARRIC MY GOAT!! THE REALEST MF IN ALL OF THEDAS!!!

I love Varric so much. it obviously helped to play DAV before, so I kinda knew him... for like, 20 minutes, I guess...

anyway, I'm really looking forward to getting to know him some more. as always, he's the only mf who cares how your character is feeling, who bothers to check in on you because everyone just tells you to roll with all the Crazy Shit TM that's happening. everyone keeps asking WHO is the herald of andraste, WHERE is the herald of andraste. no one ever asks HOW is the herald of andraste. except Varric.

he's caring, hilarious, compassionate, but also extremely REAL. cause yeah, Varric, you SHOULD'VE run the other way the moment Cassandra set you free. this breach shit is crazy! but you're literally too good of a man to do that 😭

I also cannot stop laughing at his reaction to Cory being alive. "shit, we stabbed him a bunch, I can't believe he's alive"

Varric continue to be your best real self, I am your biggest cheerleader as you are mine ❤️

Blackwall

ok so Blackwall is great. just a chill dude. super chill actually! however. he's kind of not very helpful at all, is he? "why did the wardens disappear?" "idk. can i join your inquisition?"

you're in luck, we actually take anyone because we're desperate!

but what can he actually do. him being a warden doesn't seem to help very much, because he literally never displays any warden expertise. when Stroud (?) mentions how all the wardens hear the calling now because of mr. Cory, he goes "oh shit yeah me too". and you just forgot to mention it? world's chillest warden, I guess.

I like him! but I just don't know why he's there especially when Iron Bull absolutely clears him when it comes to warrior combat.

anyway thank you Blackwall, very cool!

---

This post has been long enough, so I will make a Part 2 at some point thanks bye!!

[viridianstarlight]

Do you know who you are?

To the world these days, or at least my generation and younger, personal identity matters a whole lot to people.And to these same people, your identity can be whatever you want it to be.

You are identified by your gender, and they say your gender can be whatever you want on any day.

You are identified by your sexuality and relationship status.

You are identified by the colour of your skin.

You are identified by your job.

There’s more, but I think you get the idea.

So in the eyes of these people, I am male, straight and single, white, and a cafe worker. But I don’t really think that describes ‘Cory’.

But we Christians have a different view of identity. Here’s what the Bible says about who we are.

Psalm 139: 15-16 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

To start with, God knows exactly who you are. He knows everything there is to know about you. So if anyone can show you who you are, it is God.

1 John 3: 1 See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him.

We are called God’s children. We are adopted in to the King’s family.

Romans 8:16-18 Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

By being adopted in to the King’s family, we are made co-heirs with Christ, sharing in His sufferings and glory.

Isaiah 43:1 But now, this is what the Lord says— He who created you, Jacob, He who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

We belong to God.

Romans 6:6 This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.

Thanks to Christ’s death and resurrection, our faith in Him clothes us in His righteousness and redeems us of our sins. God looks upon us and sees the perfection of Christ.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

God is perfect, and so is everything He creates. God does not make mistakes. You are His masterpiece, the crowning reflection of His perfect creativity.

1 Corinthians 6:19 Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?

Your body is a holy space where God dwells.

Ephesians 1: 4 Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes. 

God created the world in the first chapter of Genesis, and even before then, He knew you perfectly and has loved you perfectly since then.

1 Corinthians 12: 27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

You belong as part of something greater than yourself, and you cannot function to your greatest potential separate to the body.

You were created to do things that other parts of the body cannot do, and you were created to benefit the body just as other parts were created to benefit you.

1 Peter 2:9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

You are a royal priest of the King. In the old testament, only the high priests could enter the holy of holies within God’s temple. But we, belonging totally to God and being chosen by Him, can enter the presence of God at any time.

And this is all thanks to Christ leaving heaven to become a man, taking our sin to the cross and dying in our place, taking our judgement, and in return sharing His righteousness with us.

Do you know who you are? God does.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Tabs give me superpowers

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

"Lifehacking" is in pretty bad odor these days, and with good reason: a once-useful catch-all for describing how to make things easier has become a pit of productivity porn, grifter hustling, and anodyne advice wreathed in superlatives and transformed into SEO-compliant listicles.

But I was there when lifehacking was born, and I'm here to tell you, it wasn't always thus. Lifehacking attained liftoff exactly 19 years and 348 days ago, on Feb 11, 2004, when Danny O'Brien presented "Life Hacks: Tech Secrets of Overprolific Alpha Geeks" at the 0'Reilly Emerging Technology Conference (aka ETCON). I was there, and I took notes:

https://craphound.com/lifehacksetcon04.txt

O'Brien's inspiration was his social circle, in which people he knew to be no smarter or better or motivated than anyone else in that group were somehow able to do much more than their peers, in some specific domain. O'Brien delved deeply into these peoples' lives and discovered that each of them had merely ("merely!") gotten very good at using one or two tools to automate things that would otherwise take up a lot of their time.

These "hacks" freed up their practitioners to focus on things that mattered more to them. They accomplished the goal set out in David Allen's Getting Things Done: to make a conscious choice about which things you are going to fail to do today, rather than defaulting to doing the things that are easy and trivial, at the expense of the things that matter, but are more complicated:

https://gettingthingsdone.com/what-is-gtd/

One trait all those lifehacks shared: everyone who created a little hack was faintly embarrassed by it, and assumed that others who learned about their tricks would find them trivial or foolish. O'Brien changed the world by showing that other people were, in fact, delighted and excited to learn about their peers' cool little tricks.

(Unfortunately, this eventually opened the floodgates of overheated posts about some miraculous hack that turned out to indeed be silly and trivial or even actively bad, but that wasn't O'Brien's fault!)

I'm one of those people whom others perceive as very "productive." There are some objective metrics on which this is true: I wrote nine books during lockdown, for example. Like the lifehackers O'Brien documented in 2004, I have lots of little hacks that aren't merely a way of getting more done – they're a way to make sure that I get the stuff that matters to me (taking care of my family and my health, and writing books) done.

A lot of these lifehacks boil down to making your life easier. There's a spot on our kitchen counter where I put e-waste. Whenever I go out to the car, I carry any e-waste out and put it in a bag in the trunk. Any time I'm near our city dump, I stop and throw the bag into their e-waste bin. This is now a habit, and habits are things you get for free: I spend zero time thinking about e-waste, which means I have more time to think about things that matter (and our e-waste still ends up in the right place).

There's other ways I use habits to make my life easier: after many years, I learned how to write every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/22/walking-the-plank/

For longer-form works like novels, I "leave myself a rough edge," finishing the day's work in the middle of a sentence. That way I get a few words for free the next day, meaning I never start the day's work wondering which words I'll type:

https://locusmag.com/2014/01/cory-doctorow-cheap-writing-tricks/

One of the most powerful habits I've cultivated is to have a group of daily tabs that I open in a new browser every morning. The meat of this tab group is websites I want to check in with every day, either because they don't have RSS feeds, or because I want to make sure I never miss an update.

This tab-group habit started before RSS was widespread, when most of the websites I wanted to check in on every day didn't have feeds yet, and for many years, this group was just a set of daily reads. But over the years, I started throwing things in the tab-group that I needed to stay on top of.

My daily tabs are in a folder called "unfucked rota" (they were originally in a folder called "rota," which got corrupted and had to be reconstructed in a folder I called "fucked rota," until I finally took a couple hours off and got it in good running order, hence "unfucked rota"). As I type this, "unfucked rota" contains more than a hundred websites I visit every morning, but it also contains:

The edit-history pages for four Wikipedia entries I'm watching;

Chronological feeds of my books on Amazon and Audible, to catch counterfeits as they are posted;

The parent notification portal for my kid's school;

The mileage history for the airline I flew on yesterday (I'll delete this once the flight is posted);

The credit card history for a card I reported a fraudulent charge on (I'll delete this once the refund is posted);

The sell-pages for three products that are out of stock (I'll delete these once the products are in stock and ordered);

A bookmarked newest-first Ebay search for a shirt I like that has been discontinued by the manufacturer;

The new-survey-completed pages for my last two Kickstarters;

The courier tracking page for an item being shipped sea-freight to me from Asia.

The tail end of this unfucked rota changes all the time, but as you can tell, it's got a lot of stuff that would be time-consuming to build a whole new system to track, but which has a web-page that can be easily added to a daily, habitual check-in and then removed when it's not relevant anymore.

Some of these things have email notifiers or RSS feeds, but those are too easy to lose in the noise. I generally delete email from ecommerce sites unread, since 99.99% of the messages they send me are unsolicited marketing nonsense, not the "notify me when this is back in stock" message I do want to see (same goes for my kid's school, which sends me fifty unimportant messages for every message that I must reply to).

Most of the internet is still on the web, which means it can be bookmarked, which means that it takes me one second to add it to the group of things I'm staying on top of, and one second to remove from that group. I get up in the morning, middle-click the "unfucked rota" item in my bookmarks pane, make a cup of coffee, and then sit down and race through those tabs, close-close-close.

It takes less than a second to scan a tab to see if it's changed (and if I close a tab too quickly, the ctrl-shift-T "unclose" shortcut is there in muscle-memory, another habit). The whole process takes between one and 15 minutes (depending on whether there's anything useful and new in one of those tabs).

Tabs, like lifehacks, are also in bad odor. Everyone stresses about how many tabs they have open. It's even inspired Rusty Foster's excellent newsletter, Today In Tabs:

https://www.todayintabs.com/

But this is a very different way to think about tabs. Rather than opening a window full of tabs that need your detailed, once-off attention later, this method is about using groups of tabs so that you can pay cursory, frequent attention to them.

In a world full of administrative burdens, where firms and institutions play the "sure, we'll do that, but you're going to have to track our progress" game to get out of living up to their obligations, this method is a powerful countermeasure:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/02/02/david-graebers-the-utopia-of-rules-on-technology-stupidity-and-the-secret-joys-of-bureaucracy/

My little tab habit is so incredibly useful, such a powerful way to seize back time and power from powerful actors who impose burdens on me, that I sometimes forget how, for other people, tabs are a symptom of a life that's spiraling out of control. For me, a couple hundred tabs are a symbol of a couple hundred tasks that I'm totally on top of, a symbol of control wrestled back from others who are hostile to my interests.

This isn't how tabs were "meant" to be used, of course. It's an example of the kind of "innovation" that comes from users repurposing things in ways their designers didn't necessarily anticipate or intend.

This is what Jonathan Zittrain meant by "generative" technology back in 2008, when he published his incredibly prescient The Future of the Internet: And How To Stop It:

https://memex.craphound.com/2008/07/22/zittrains-the-future-of-the-internet-how-to-save-the-internet-from-the-internet/

For Zittrain, "generativity" was the property of some technologies that let its users generate new, useful tools and solutions for themselves (this is very different from "generative AI!")

Zittrain described how "curated" computing systems, like mobile devices that relied on apps that couldn't be adapted by their users, were dead ends for generativity. 15 years later, the dismal world of apps has proven him right:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/24/everything-not-mandatory/#is-prohibited

To the extent that "lifehacking" is about doing more, rather than being more deliberate about what you accomplish, it can be harmful. I am not immune to the failure modes of lifehacking:

https://locusmag.com/2017/11/cory-doctorow-how-to-do-everything-lifehacking-considered-harmful/

But overall, using tabs as something I close, rather than something I open, is a source of comfort and calm for me. For one thing, ripping through a group of tabs every morning means that I don't have to worry about missing something if I go too fast. I'll get another chance tomorrow:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/27/probably/

Decades ago, Dori Smith dubbed her pioneering blog her "#Backup Brain":

https://web.archive.org/web/20020120231027/http://www.backupbrain.com/

At their best, our systems – be they physical, like a spot on the counter where the e-waste goes, or digital, like a tab-group – are "congitive prostheses." They allow us to move important things from the highly contested, busy and precious space between our ears and out there into the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Like those lifehackers that O'Brien studied for his presentation in 2004, I confess to feeling a little silly about telling you all about this. For me, this habit of decades is so ingrained that it feels trivial and obvious. And yet, when I look at people in my life struggling to stay on top of a million nagging administrative tasks that could be easily watched through a morning's flick through a tab-group, I can't help but think that maybe some of you will find a useful idea or two in my unfucked rota.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/25/today-in-tabs/#unfucked-rota

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part sixteen)🌹

Part 15🌹

A/N: well hello lovely! your friendly neighborhood force of chaos has crawled out of her hole to provide whatever this is. have a wonderful day! (yall pls don't kill me for taking forever college apps killed me) lemme know your thoughts!

This was meant to be pure fluff but I dont think I'm capable of that

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This should have been the part where you woke up. Everything was too perfect.

You were consumed by love (and Cory's lips). Reality was beyond your deepest desires. Everything you had desperately needed was right beneath your clasped hands as you refused to part ways with the boy you love.

You were so lost in your love-fueled haze that you were completely unaware of the world around you. Coriolanus would say he felt the same way, except for the constant ringing of a familiar voice.

"Purple. She is turning purple."

He grabbed your jaw a slight bit harsher, pulling you in for an even deeper angle to drown out the commentary.

"I'm saying 20 seconds till she gets asphyxia."

Hands parted your strands of hair as Coryo couldn't decide on a location. He traced you, as all he wanted was to be consumed by you entirely.

"Probably could hide the body in 5 minutes. He's very crafty, you know."

Coriolanus let go of you so suddenly that you stumbled forward. He ensured you were stable by wrapping an arm around your waist as he faced the ever-ominous smirk of Arachne.

"Would you mind?"

With the fakest gasp of offense, Arachne put a hand to her heart.

"Me? I'm simply trying to enjoy the woods when I see a poor girl's tongue being inhaled!"

Your eyes squinted as you let out a confused scoff.

"You were watching?!"

"I'm still confused about how you survived the arena with your lack of awareness."

"Hey!"

Much to your satisfaction, you now had a defense against Arachne's light-hearted taunts. Coriolanus was sharper in his warning, along with the added tightness of his grip on you. Sejanus was more frank and understandably sensitive about the topic. You all were. Even the taunting Arachne.

You had been so astounded by Coryo that you completely overlooked the boy you considered a brother.

"Sej!"

Somehow freeing yourself from Coryo’s grip, you ran straight into the brunette's arms and latched onto him like a monkey. He stumbled back a little, but the extra muscle he had put on during Peacekeeper training kept you both up.

"I've missed you so much."

Your voice was wobbly as you processed that everything around you was real. You snuggled into his neck, embracing the comfort of his simple presence.

Sejanus asked the question plaguing his mind with a hushed voice, so fragile in its volume, fearing it might shatter the peace of the moment.

"You don't hate me?"

Tears of joy turned into heartbreak. Slowly backing away, you made sure Sejanus was looking at you.

"Hate you?"

It was his turn for tears, though sobbing would be a more accurate description. Trembles journeyed through Sejanus’s fitter body as all the awful memories of that night replayed endlessly.

"I caused you so much pain. I hurt you so much. It was all my fault!"

His deep brown eyes became an ocean of self-loathing. You looked so alive, and it could have all been taken away due to his recklessness. Fragments of your heart were being pounded to shreds by the guilt weighing on Sejanus’s shoulders. You had seen him feel guilty for his privilege before, but this was different. This was festering devastation.

“Sejanus, look at me.”

It took all his respect for you to gather the strength to meet your sympathetic eyes—sympathy he knew he didn’t deserve.

“Did you learn your lesson?” You gave a teasing smile and a light laugh as he huffed in confirmation. “You have such a kind heart. It’s a light in our dark world. Just don’t let it blind you, m’kay?”

He flashed you a smile as you gave him yet another hug. Life for you had been a never-ending cascade of chaos and heartbreak, and you had missed these simple moments with Sejanus. Moments from a time before you dug up past and fresh graves. Although, going back that far would mean leaving behind the now most important person in your life, who reminded you of his presence as he came up behind you.

Coryo wrapped his arm around you again the second you pulled away from Sejanus.

“Okay, your time slot is over. It’s my turn.”

“Once again.” A very smooth cover-up was attempted by Arachne, as a small coughing fit naturally followed as Coryo’s vibrant baby blues rolled at her antics. You looked up at Coryo and finally took in his appearance. His buzzed hair brought out his electric eye shade even more, and his tall frame had filled out with good meals and training. His look had you utterly speechless as you ran your fingers over the now buzzed-off section where his curls used to be. Your silent response to his new appearance made a foreign snake of insecurity slither its way into his mind.

“That bad?” Coryo’s voice was quiet enough for only you to hear, leaving your two friends straining to listen. Your eyes shot up to the ones you thought about every night and morning. You searched for the joke, but he was serious. And so were you when you slapped his arm.

“Have you grown blind? I loved your curls, but that doesn’t mean I don’t really like this too.”

Coryo’s smirk intensified as you continued, especially when your hands reached the nape of his neck. With the look in his eyes, even in the midnight darkness, Arachne and Sejanus felt like they were about to see something they did not want to see.

“I think if we stay five minutes longer, we’ll finally know if Coryo’s carpet matches the drapes.”

Your Coryo-filled trance was effectively broken by Sejanus’s (surprising) comment as mortification painted your cheeks rouge. The ever-proper Coriolanus, however, had no real care as he just leveled his friend with a flat look. On the other hand, the snickers and cackles between Sejanus and Arachne were abundant. Almost as if they were friends. A disgusting enough concept to both of them as Sejanus’s prior comment.

“You do know the both of you are acting like friends, right?”

Dawning smug smiles, you and Coriolanus watched as the other two argued and shouted against any possibility—no, institution—of friendship. The show was oh so entertaining and would have likely lasted until sunrise, but you had to cut it short. With the fight back at the Hob, all Capital personnel, of which you all were, needed to be inside the barracks unless yearning for punishment. Coriolanus knew you were right but didn’t want to let go of you, even if just for a few hours. Arm clutching to his, you laid your head upon his shoulder as the branches crunched beneath your synchronous feet. The large campus of the barracks came into view as your grip tightened in yearning.

“Dawn?”

Coriolanus sent an all-too-consuming smirk.

“Dawn.”

His smirk grew immensely, but you never saw it; you felt it on your lips as he gave a sweet kiss that was supposed to be short. Although, you didn’t part, and Coryo couldn’t bring himself to either. Once again, it felt like a dream overtook your reality. And yet again, that rosy view was interrupted by an impatient Arachne.

“Innocent bystanders present.”

Coriolanus didn’t miss a beat as his lips traveled downward to your neck, and the teasing smirk spread impossibly further.

“Find your own woods.”

Your laugh was airy from the ticklish feeling of Cory's lips as you (unfortunately) had to push him away. As much as you yearned to stay, you needed to get inside urgently. Not risking any further stalling, you gave a peck to Cory's cheek and whispered about dawn once more while running to your side of the large campus with Arachne in tow.

The blonde stood there with a shining grin when Sejanus’s strong hand clapped him on the back. “Maybe Twelve isn’t too bad.”

Even out of sight, Coriolanus was enamored with your lingering presence.

“No. Not too bad at all.”

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Arachne and Sejanus were able to sleep soundly, even while knowing their respective bunkmates wouldn’t be there when they woke up. Instead, you and Coriolanus would finally get a rare moment of peace.

You hadn’t gotten a second of sleep, your eyes blurring with concentration as you watched the horizon. As soon as the deep midnight sky began to lighten the slightest shade, you were already out the door. The hallways you usually trudged through echoed with the sound of your near-running steps. The district air had never felt so good against your skin. The birds had never sounded so inviting. Coriolanus Snow had never been more perfect.

Of course, Mr. Perfect had already been waiting for you. Like you, he’d spent the few hours between your meetings cursing the slowness of the night. Now you were begging for time to pause, just for you and Coryo. As soon as you saw him leaning against a flourishing, expansive tree, you ran straight into his arms—arms that picked you up and spun you around as your glee harmonized with the birds chirping above.

He set you down and stared at your radiant face. It had been too long since he’d seen it outside of his dreams. Coryo cupped your face and lovingly traced your cheekbones.

“You are far too beautiful for the districts.”

You scoffed gently and bashfully looked away. Would there ever be a time when he wouldn’t make you so flustered? He gently tilted your chin to lock eyes with his ever-magnetic gaze.

“I’m being serious.”

“Oh, I know, pretty boy.”

The nickname caused just enough pause for you to smoothly escape his grasp. Walking ahead, you looked back with a gleam of mischief in your eyes. Coriolanus had had so many daydreams of you and those eyes that it was hard to remember if everything around him was real. Then again, it didn’t really matter. Coriolanus would always follow you.

He jogged lightly to catch up to your flowing stride. “Trying to get rid of me already?” Coryo teased as his arm settled comfortably across your shoulders.

You started to worry about your cardiovascular health with the number of flips your heart was doing. However, that effortless rhythm of you and Coriolanus felt as natural as breathing.

“Oh please, I’ve been trying to get close to you since I was eleven.”

His shiny white teeth outshone the little rays of sunlight starting to break through the winding branches.

“So, you admit you’ve been obsessed with me.”

“Good to know you managed to pack your ego with you.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Arachne too much, you know that?”

“Well, maybe don’t leave me alone.”

“Oh, I’m not planning on it.”

A sweet smile was mirrored on both your faces. After weeks of tension and tragedy, the sereness of this moment was not lost on you. As much as you missed bantering with Coryo, you missed his simple presence more. No words needed to be said as his presence lifted the weight of the world from your crumbling shoulders.

The two of you walked aimlessly, but within minutes, you realized where your feet had led you. Serenity bled into unease. Coryo felt your muscles tense beneath his arm and noticed your nervous tick. Usually, the ring of Snow brought you comfort, yet this time it was the golden ring of Embridge, twirling between your fingers. Coriolanus, ever observant, immediately picked up on your tension and squeezed your shoulder in silent, effective communication. In response, you nestled closer to him as the gravity of reality pulled you further from the bliss you so seldom got to embrace.

“Do you know why we’re in Twelve?”

“A bastard.” You lifted your head at the uncharacteristically crass language Coriolanus used. He stared straight ahead, jaw clenched. Gently, you ran your fingertips along his chiseled jaw, making his teeth unclench and his face soften. Reality was bound to come out soon enough, so you might as well swallow the heavy truth and spit it out for Coryo.

“Well, yes, he does have a hand in this. But there’s a reason he chose this district specifically.”

The branches around you shifted into twisted, sinister shapes, providing no comfort. That strange shiver, which was becoming too familiar, slithered through your bones. In record time, Coriolanus put his light Peacekeeper jacket over your shoulders. The air of domesticity was once again shattered by the shadows of the mocking trees.

Coryo waited patiently for you to continue, but it took you a moment to steady your churning stomach. The blonde used the silence to gently prod you forward.

“I assume it’s his usual spite and dramatics.” You might have laughed lightly at his jab, but all you could do was swallow your unease as the macabre symbol of retaliation loomed ahead. Outstretched branches, as if reaching for their newest victim, lacked leaves and were scorched in the outline of a man. The tree was clearly meant to send shivers down spines—not just yours. The scratches from its past victims were still deeply engraved into its trunk.

Coryo’s sapphire eyes froze in horror at the grotesque message for the Capitol. You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and accepted the unacceptable truth.

“My uncle is alive, Coryo.”

In an instant, his blue eyes snapped to your face, his fingers cold as they tilted your chin for eye contact and answers.

“Highbottom left a cryptic letter in my file. I—I followed the clues, and somehow, I found him! He isn’t the same man; he’s on some kind of hallucinogenic substance and—”

Coriolanus’s chest muffled your panicked ramble. Melting in his arms, the two of you stood together as the morning colors—orange, pink, and purple—painted the sky. Soon, the world you both had to return to would be waking up, but it could wait. Now was the time to finally let your beloved Coryo help you, as only he could.

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Blackouts. An experience that was dreadful, malicious, and all too common for Alreic Vaun. Or rather, it had been, though in the past few years, they’d become less frequent. Those wretched names from the past stopped seeping into his mind. No more visions. No more reliance on the sultry purple poison. He’d begun to know Otto—Kane—as more than just the kid who’d pulled his unconscious body from the streams. And even that little girl, whose name and face were often blurred beyond recognition. Little Rowan. His Rowan.

He’d gone six straight months without a single blackout, hallucination, or injection. Alreic was even considering getting a job in the mines to help support the small family that had inexplicably appeared under his roof. The young man, eerily reminiscent of his late nephew, didn’t deserve the life he’d endured. Nor did the little girl, whose rambunctiousness reminded him of his sweet, clever niece, Y/N.

For six blissful months, he’d felt a fragile sense of optimism—until it shattered. Lucy Gray Baird and Jessup Diggs were to be District Twelve’s tributes. Lambs to the slaughter. Jessup and Lucy Gray weren’t just innocent children; they were children who had spent time in his shambles of a cabin, who’d helped him up and taught him new recipes. Lucy Gray, with her sweet songs swirling around the living room, and Rowan’s laughter echoing in the clearing at Jessup’s antics. They were Kane’s closest friends and Rowan’s role models ; people he could rely on to be there for the children he’d taken in, even when he couldn’t.

As much as Alreic’s veins yearned painfully for the sweet relief of the mauve substance’s sting, he couldn’t indulge. Six months of sobriety could never make up for years of abandonment and hallucinations, but maybe staying clean could. Kane and Rowan needed him. It’s what his sisters would have wanted. For the first time in years, Alreic’s thoughts of family were not immediately drowned out by the electrifying lure of inebriation. Sober and somber, he resolved to bear the pain of loss and be a stable pillar of support. To be the man he once was, even if it was a decade too late.

Alreic should have known that fate was never kind to him.

Two days after the Reaping, a black envelope with green lettering arrived, addressed to him. Fine, smooth, elegant handwriting. The old routine was set to return. With every silken envelope came a bulging cylinder hidden inside. He didn’t need to know the sender; it was clear this was a Capitol message.

After the day of your sudden appearance in the cabin, Kane had gone out with his bow to find dinner and to burn off his fuming rage. Rowan stayed close to Maude Ivory’s side, the two clinging together in shared fear. Alreic hurried to his shabby excuse of a bedroom and tore the envelope open. He should have waited, taken a moment to think about what it might contain. It’s what the old him would have done. But no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t that man anymore. The evidence lay in the alluring purple bubbles gliding across the syringe’s liquid. Alreic had been clean for six months, five days, and four hours. Had been.

Instantly, the cold surface of the glass syringe settled perfectly in his cracked fingers. His veins stood out, ready. It had taken him ten years to reach six months of recovery. Months of resisting the enticing green words of persuasion and guilt. And yet all his progress was now darkened by the familiar amethyst that flowed through his veins and those infamous Enbridge eyes.

Slipping away into the endless void of guilt, he left the letter unread.

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Bright sunlight lit up the lush greenery of the Capitol barracks. Several Peacekeepers were out jogging and working out in the wide clearing at the center of the campus. Familiar researchers made their way past you and Coryo as they began their work early. Luckily, both of you had already gotten ready before your early morning escapade, so all that was left to do was to make sure all traces of your tears were gone.

“Are you completely sure?”

For the hundredth time in the past hour, Coryo assured you that your tear streaks and hives had disappeared. He usually added a compliment to sweeten the deal, yet you kept rubbing the skin under your eyes.

“If you keep rubbing, that’s what’s going to make you look like you cried.”

You huffed at his rationality, filling your breakfast tray with items that looked semi-edible. The cafeteria was lively but not cramped, with an atmosphere of ease—a stark contrast to the rigid cafeteria of the Capitol academy. Arachne and Sejanus were already seated at a small table in the back left corner by some white windows. Sitting down, you should have felt the strangeness of the situation. You and Arachne sat across from each other, Coriolanus to your right and Sejanus to Arachne’s. The academy’s top students and future leaders, all here in poverty-stricken District Twelve. And yet, it all felt like it fit.

“I assume you told him?” Arachne asked. You nodded confidently. She returned the nod, confirming she had done the same with Sejanus. Now you were all up to speed on the chaos that had further invaded your lives.

Sejanus offered his condolences, which you accepted with a grateful smile—grateful for friends who didn’t press for more details. The conversation drifted to each of your new positions. You and Arachne filled in the boys on your explorations in the woods, earning laughs and playful comments from Sejanus at the image of Arachne handling the birds. He was promptly met with a smack from the back of a metal spoon. The two boys were to take on various roles, from guards to execution assistants to aides for the researchers. You were enjoying the friendly bickering between Sejanus and Arachne when a voice cut through.

“Hey, Y/N! Just wanted to make sure you were okay after last night?”

The boyish smile of Cassian was sweet—but Arachne and Coriolanus found it utterly disgusting. Meanwhile, Sejanus tried to pinpoint why he felt a strange familiarity.

“She’s just peachy, but my toes aren’t. Learn how to dance, Slate.”

Cassian was clearly holding back his irritation at the redhead but kept his smile steady. “Well, I wasn’t exactly prepared to go dancing.”

He should have known better than to try arguing with Arachne. “No? I swear I remember you asking Y/N for a dance.”

Your cheeks flushed as Cassian looked to you for help, then glanced at Coryo in surprise. Though Coryo knew you well enough to understand that this infatuation was entirely one-sided, on the part of this, in his eyes, rather pathetic fool. Meanwhile, Sejanus was still in his own world, trying to figure out why this random Peacekeeper felt so familiar.

“You don’t like me, yet you still asked me for a dance?” the hazel-eyed boy grumbled at Arachne’s triumphant smirk. She took a sip of her water, letting the air settle in her favor.

“What can I say? I like stepping on people’s toes.” Coryo really thought this guy would have taken the hint by now. For once, Coryo was wrong. Cassian crouched down to meet your eyes, getting far too close for Coriolanus’s comfort.

In a whisper, Cassian finally asked the question he’d come to ask in the first place. “Hey, Y/N, later this afternoon, some Peacekeepers are supposed to check up on the researchers’ progress with catching those weird hybrid birds. I volunteered and was hoping I could check in with you?”

With every word he spoke, Arachne swore he got closer to you. Instinctively, you turned to Coryo. You still didn’t quite understand Arachne’s rudeness toward the sweet guy, but something about this proposal felt off. Coryo hadn’t mentioned anything about it, and you were sure he would have if he’d been assigned. Maybe he hadn’t, due to your emotional state during your confession this morning? Everyone was waiting for your answer when a Peacekeeper administrator’s voice called out, saving you from responding. You locked eyes with Arachne, and she was quick to take action.

“Looks like your master is calling, so you’d better go keep order or whatever it is you do.”

“Peace. We keep the peace. It’s in the name.”

Of course, the thing that brought Sejanus out of his trance was an opportunity to jab at Arachne. She took your tray, tossed it, and grabbed your wrist, pulling you away. Cassian tried to call out for an answer, but Arachne left no room for discussion. You glanced back, avoiding Cassian’s questioning gaze and meeting Coriolanus’s instead. A sweet smile passed between you two, and you were off in the wind.

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Your tasks were still the same: capture as many mockingjays as possible and send them back for examination. You and Arachne had made good progress scouring the woods, but the inevitable section you dreaded was getting closer and closer. Ara offered to go ahead and get closer to your uncle's cabin. Just the thought of it all made you spiral downward. The chills that had been building up shook through your bones. It was a beautiful day, maybe even a bit too hot, yet you felt a bitter cold in your extremities. Without fail, you experienced numbing cold, piercing migraines, or blurry eyesight every day since you left the Capitol. You doubted it was homesickness, even if you missed the bustling city. The woods and fresh air of District Twelve were refreshing—a change you weren’t sure you wanted to let go of.

Strolling along and tracing the wooden engravings on the trees, your ears perked up at a soft tune. A melodious hum peacefully floated through the air, guiding you to the location of the beautiful, raven-colored mockingjay. Such a sight it was. The heavenly sounds of the bird, eerily resembling Lucy Gray's own hums, echoed off four gravestones. The mockingjay itself was perched on what seemed to be the newest of the graves. The three on the left looked older, more rushed, and crumbling. However, they had little yellow flowers beneath them. On the farthest right, and closest to you, a newer and sturdier gravestone stood proudly—a fitting tribute to the man it honored.

Jessup Diggs. Friend, Son, Brother, and Hope.

Maybe it was the odd blistering sensations crawling through your body or the sheer exhaustion of the past few weeks. It could have just been the guilt of survival and murder, but you collapsed to your knees. You were shivering and felt nauseous, yet no tears broke through your lacrimals. Shaking hands traced the fresh pink carnations in front of the stone. You reached up to feel the engraving of the letter J when your trance was shattered.

"So she was right."

Behind you stood a black-eyed, bruised Kane. His dark curls were a mess, and his smile was tired. No judgment hid behind his bruised eyes. A small bouquet of curved purple flowers was clutched in his bandaged hands. There were no words you felt you could say, so you just moved slightly to give him room. A genuine smile crept across his solemn face as he sat down. The mockingjay was still singing its tune.

"You were his—uhm, what were you called again?"

"Mentor." A quiet confession, barely a whisper. Kane began arranging the purple flowers, ones you had never seen before, with the pink carnations. In his back pocket, you noticed a few other puffy orange flowers, which he also mixed in.

"Mentor. Lucy Gray said that she and Jessup had the best two."

His dark eyes remained fixed on the flowers while you turned to study his features. He didn’t directly resemble your brother, but something in the way his shoulders bore the weight of the world and the softness of his voice reminded you of Otto. Perhaps it wasn’t too hard to imagine your uncle seeing one as the other.

"Do you know how he died?" You feared you might have struck a nerve with the question, as Kane took a shaky breath. His eyes traveled northward to the engraving in Jessup’s memory.

"Bat bite. He got it by protecting Lucy Gray."

"He definitely died defiantly. On his own terms."

Kane looked at you then. You looked at him. Really, he did resemble Otto. His eyes scrunched to bite back tears, but a shaky smile exposed his teeth. He gently shook his dark curls. "Never could give up his fight."

An atmosphere of sweet contentment swept in. The mockingjay continued its melody, transitioning from its original hum to something more dramatic than the earlier light tune. Your eyes lingered on the other gravestones. Jessup’s father, mother, and brother—all reunited once more. A detail that struck you was that the other three gravestones had "Martyr" engraved, while Jessup’s was empty of that deserved moniker.

"He was a martyr too. He died opposing his oppressors, even if not physically."

You kept your sore eyes on the bright array of flowers—purple, pink, and orange, like a calming yet vibrant sunset. A violent shiver ran through you, and despite your best efforts to conceal it, Kane noticed.

"Do you know about his family?" There was a hint of apprehension in his voice. You understood why. Your suspicions about your brother’s role had been running in your mind. Another high, grieving note was pitched by the mockingjay.

Nodding in confirmation, you gently grasped one of the billowy orange flowers. It had at least seven layers, each shade darker than the last, top to bottom, creating an ombre spectacle. "He said their killer had the same eyes as mine. Around the same age as you. His orders were filled with regret. I know it was Otto."

Kane was surprised by just how much Jessup had told you. Maybe Jessup had simply stopped caring in his final days? Perhaps he was trying to unnerve you? Then again, why would you be so sympathetic and grieving? Lucy Gray’s descriptions of her time in the Capitol and its people flooded back to him. Jessup’s mentor. “The girl is full of surprises.” Kane examined the scars on your neck. She just jumped in front of the bottle. “That nasty girl was making jabs at someone with your same name, and yet, she still took the hit!”

His dark eyes caught sight of the dull ring hanging around your neck. From your sudden collapse, your necklace had been thrust forward, out of your shirt and into the forest air. The symbol of House Embridge stood proud, just as it had around Alreic’s ring and on all of Alreic’s fanatical drawings and engravings.

"Did he ever hate you for having the same name? Did he know?"

"Eventually he knew, but he never judged. He understood what happened. I didn’t move in with Al until I was 13, but Jessup and I had been friends since we could walk. We met running through the woods, addicted to the thrill of sprinting past the trees. It was just me and my mom until I was 11, when she had Rowan with a different father than mine," he took a breath. The young man never needed to explicitly say Alreic was the father—you knew. The Embridge eyes never lie. "I loved Jessup’s family, especially his brother and dad. My mother did everything for me, and I loved her, but it was different having a father figure. Someone to teach you how to shoot arrows and survive off the land. My mom was a barmaid; she didn’t know how to do any of that. But then… Well, you know what happened to his family. It wasn’t much later that my mom—my mom was murdered too."

His voice cracked at the end. The rawness of death swirled in your consciousness as you handed the flower in your hand to Kane. Even as one sole tear escaped down his stubbled cheek, he smiled faintly at your gesture.

"I was there for him, and he for me. He had nowhere else to go but the cabin where his family died. It would have been a shame to abandon their legacy. I couldn’t stand being in the shack I was born in. I knew nothing of my father, just that he was lost to the wind like a lot of kids here. But at least I knew where to find Rowan’s. He was barely conscious most of the time, but he let us stay, or at least wasn’t aware enough to kick us out. The good thing was we weren’t far from Jessup. He helped me raise Rowan. A few years later, Covey joined the mix. Life didn’t look so bleak anymore. Even Al started sobering up and stepping up. I survived the Hunger Games reaping. It was Jessup’s last year and only a few more for Lucy Gray. My biggest worry was Maude Ivory or Rowan, as it was their first year. Never did I think that two of my family would be taken."

In the few minutes it took for him to finish his story, it seemed he had aged a decade. Even with Lucy Gray coming back, he had lost his family. No unit stays the same when one pillar crumbles. You wished to comfort him, but you didn’t know how. You felt like the embodiment of everything that had caused him pain. A wailing tune from the bird continued to cement itself in the atmosphere between you two.

"I am so sorry." It wasn’t an empty apology, but it felt useless to you, though to Kane, it was a welcomed, foreign phrase. From all he’d heard from Lucy Gray, he knew you weren’t the average Capitol citizen. And from Alreic, he knew your family—and by extension, you—were important. He still needed to know exactly why someone of your status ended up in the backwoods of Twelve, but he appreciated your efforts nonetheless.

Arachne was likely on her way back to the barracks to finish off her tasks for the day, and you should have been doing the same. But you had no desire to move. You enjoyed Kane’s presence, the comfort long missing from your life. Sunlight streamed through the trees and shone down on the flowers that had captivated you.

"Is there a specific reason for the flowers chosen?"

The change in conversation lightened Kane’s mood as he grabbed a stem of each one. You only recognized the pink carnation; the others were unfamiliar.

“The pink carnation,” he held it out for you as he explained, “That’s from Lucy Gray. It symbolizes a vow to never forget the person it’s gifted to.” You spun the flower between your fingers before lightly setting it back with the rest of its sisters. They weren’t your flowers, but you silently committed to the same vow the flowers implied.

“Next are the sweet peas. A symbol of goodbye and thank you for the times together. These are mine.” Purple and delicate, the flowers entranced you. An impactful message in such a fragile flower. Finally, there was the large puff of an orange flower.

“From Rowan. The Zinnia. A declaration of everlasting affection for lost friends.” Layers of petals created a sentiment of deepening love. All together, Jessup’s memory came alive. An unforgettable soul. Your hands now felt empty as you had no flowers of your own to give.

“Next time, I will bring something. Though, I am not sure if I am too good with flower meanings.”

Kane got up and offered you his dirt-stained hand, which you gently took. You dusted off your dark blue pants while the young man stood patiently. At your sudden movement, the stoic mockingjay broke through the air and into the deep woods. “I am sure Maude Ivory and Rowan will be more than happy to introduce you. They have them all written down somewhere.”

You started walking back toward the barracks and town without even considering where Kane might have to go, but he just followed along amicably. You smiled at his authenticity and willingness to trust his little sister with you.

“I am surprised you know so little about flowers. I assumed Capital kids get taught all the silly stuff like that.”

Shaking your head gently, you giggled a little at his admission. Maybe some of your peers knew a few floral meanings, but most were just concerned with how pretty it looked.

“Well, flowers only really matter if they are expensive and look it. They try to buy authenticity with materialistic urges.”

Kane took note of how you described your fellow residents as “they.” You didn’t even seem to consider yourself to be one of them. Odd.

“So what are your favorite flowers then? The most expensive ones?”

That slick, smitten smile spread across your lips, mimicking the rosy blush across your cheeks. The phantom smell of roses danced in your nose. Shiny petals danced in the moonlight, filtering through your mind.

“Well, if you must know, then white roses. In a way, they have the most value. Their seeds are pricey, but that is what makes having so little so valuable. Being able to give them up is a gift far more worthwhile than riches.”

Your companion took in your answer and considered it. Obviously, there were no fine floral such as the white flowers you held so dear in Twelve, but this wasn't the first time he’d heard of them. Lucy Gray described her first encounter with her rose-bearing mentor. The trees began to clear slightly when you were knocked off course when Kane bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Oh, it’s not the flowers. It’s a boy giving them, isn’t it?”

You laughed ridiculously at his (right) accusation. “Just how much did Lucy Gray give away?”

“Oh, she can’t stop talking about the two of you.” He laughed lightly at the memory of her enthusiasm for “true love.” The tree break came into view, and you walked through and turned around to face your newest friend. You smiled at him, a gesture lightly returned.

“At least it isn’t curses. I can manage to accept that.” A quick wave, and you were off to your office to get some work done. In the whirlwind of emotion from the day, you underestimated the persistence of Cassian and Coriolanus.

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There are far worse fates for Coriolanus Snow than being a peacekeeper. He actually enjoyed the routine and obvious benefits of large food quantities and bedding that actually fit him. Not to mention you and Sejanus’s company. Even Arachne was an unexpected perk. Though, there was one person who made Coriolanus’s agitation flare up.

Cassian Slate was no threat on the surface. Even in reality, Coriolanus had enough confidence to know he was no threat to his relationship with you. That doesn’t mean he liked his eyes on you nor his continuous efforts to get close to you. Something about him made Coriolanus’s gut sour. The feeling had never disappointed him before; he doubted it would start now. Tens of peacekeepers who were not on active duty were in the training facility. Fury had already fueled several of Coryo’s exercise reps. Yet, Cassian did his so gently. As if he had no weight upon his shoulders. It shouldn’t have been odd for a man of no status, such as the district-born, but it was more than that. Everyone else had an air of struggle or striving, but Cassian was eerily free of those attributes. Something was off about him.

The sentiment was shared by Sejanus. For the past several hours, he had been mulling over the name and the hazel eyes that trailed everything far too closely. Until it struck him, sending him straight back to his childhood memories. Just as Marcus had been his classmate, so had Cassian. All Sejanus wanted to do was reconnect, but he doubted it would cause any good results. Though it seemed it wasn’t just him who could recognize old childhood friends. When Coriolanus was distracted, talking to him and Sejanus’s shared roommate, Cassian made his way to Sejanus, who was studying varying herbal remedies.

“Guess the Capital hasn’t changed you after all.”

Coriolanus should have stopped the conversation. There was a lot that should have been done in those days to stop what would come.

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It had been nearly an hour, and you were still unsure where Arachne had gone. Although, her disappearances had become more frequent, so there was no immediate reason to panic. She always comes back for dinner. You were in a small research office at the far end of the large building shared between researchers and peacekeepers. A dusty library was centered, with varying proposed rooms scattered around it. On the first day, you and Arachne managed to snatch one of the few in good condition, with a pretty view of the billowing trees.

You had been stooped over several books about cross-species mutations, the exact category of the mockingjay. Coincidentally, there were also descriptions of a group that could induce the hallucinogenic symptoms akin to your uncle's. Focus overtook you so firmly that you didn’t hear the knock on your open doorframe.

“And she still finds herself lost in the pages.”

Tired eyes snapped to the teasing gaze of your Coryo. He walked to you slowly, and you took that time to admire his appearance. The peacekeeper position really didn’t look too bad on him. The buzzed blonde perched himself next to you. You didn’t need to explain all the diagrams or pages. You never had to really explain anything, academic or personal, to Coriolanus. A miracle you were eternally grateful for. As he understood the aim of your work on your own, you went back to it, settling into the comfortable quiet. All until a grating voice pierced Coriolanus’s ears.

“Hey, Y/N—oh. I didn’t know you had company.”

Both you and Coriolanus looked up with two widely different expressions. A look of embarrassment overtook your face, while Coryo sent a murderous glare to the brunette. Cassian, adamant as ever, still made his way into your office. He looked at his blonde peer with a quizzical look.

“Uhm, if you wouldn’t mind, I need to talk to Y/N about private peacekeeping business?”

Cassian wanted to get comfortable, so Coryo did the same. Instead of simply being next to you, Coryo moved his arms in a manner that trapped you within his embrace as he faked reading the plethora of information beneath your fingertips. You felt trapped, both physically and socially in the moment. Yet, Coryo radiated smugness.

“I am a peacekeeper as well, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Don’t you think, Y/N?”

You felt like a fish out of water, gaping up at the man hovering above you. Blue sapphire eyes that passed for his ducked down to level with yours. A stuttered “y-yeah” was hardly heard as Coryo raised his head. Coriolanus’s joy only grew, seeing the irritation build behind those charming hazel eyes.

“I need to speak about private matters by order from my superior.” Cassian’s voice was strained as he tried to hold back the irritation at the foiling of his plans.

“Then don’t let me stop you,” Coriolanus stated daringly. You picked up on Cassian’s little ticks. They weren’t ones of boyish nerves but rather signs of anger and stress. His eyes zoomed in on you for backup, but you no longer felt willing to give him a few moments alone with you.

One of the many reasons you and Coriolanus got along so well was your strong intuition. If only you all shared it.

Cassian knew he wasn’t going to get anything with Coryo’s sharpness orbiting you. A mumbled goodbye, and he was gone. Your head swiveled to follow the movements of Coryo, who now made his way to sit in front of your small, chipped wooden desk. Squinted eyes leveling a disappointed look had no effect on him.

“There is something off with him. I’ll find out soon enough.”

And that was the end of the conversation. No room for argument, because how could you oppose the feeling that had been slithering through your stomach at his oddly insistent behavior? You tried to piece together the pieces before your attention was once again stolen by the charming peacekeeper.

“I crossed paths with Lucy Gray earlier. She invited us to her and the Covey’s trip down to the lake in a few days. Thought you would enjoy it.”

The smile on his face was sickly sweet and warm. Stars of adoration shone through his dimples. You were lucky you even caught on to what he was saying while being so distracted.

“I would love to, but I don’t have anything to wear.”

“She called in some favors. Didn’t hurt to have a peacekeeper presence behind her.”

Worry etched its way between your brows at Lucy Gray’s gesture and the intimidation of Coryo. However, the latter was quick to peck the spot with kisses, smoothing it out. He was still intent on keeping his promise to himself about you. Coriolanus didn’t need you worrying about anything. Even if you were across the country, you two would return to the Capitol soon enough, victorious and your places justifiably awarded. As president and first lady. He had already gotten his first step back. News he was excited to share with you by the lakeside, but that wasn’t what he was looking forward to the most. You started talking about some passionate debate between you and Arachne. Coryo could only notice just how much the ring of Snow glowed.

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You were drowning. The sudden darkness was replaced by frigid water blocking fresh air from entering your lungs. It crept down your hair strands and into the little tunnels that form your ears. In less than a moment, you sprang up from your bed, scraping your face to get the unwelcome substance off.

"Good morning, sunshine."

The void, raspy morning voice of Arachne greeted you. Your eyes were still blinking away the water as her fully dressed figure came into view. Still reeling from a deep sleep, you could only manage a half-hearted glare. There wasn’t a single sunray striking through your curtains. What joke was life playing on you today? A firm pillow broke you out of your thoughts and the minuscule semblance of peace you had gotten.

“Get dressed, we need to meet everyone by the back woods.”

There wasn’t a single coherent thought forming. All you could do was grumble and stare blankly at your blanket. Another perfect hit on your head via pillow. “Blame yourself. You wanted to go to the lake.”

Ah yes. The past few days had been a haze of morning walks with Coryo, research duties, small rendezvous with Kane, and conversations with Sejanus and Arachne at the oddest moments, since neither could rarely be found. Interesting how they are only present when the other is... Well, your pondering could wait. Now you needed to get up before your redheaded friend refilled the water cup. Lucy Gray instructed you all to meet by the early dawn at the back clearing of the woods. Apparently, the best time to visit the lake was early morning.

Your outfit was a simple dress by Capitol standards, yet still the most opulent fabric masterpiece the districts had the privilege to see. Good thing the early dawn light covered it up. Arachne was wearing a deep navy skirt and chic white blouse to pair. Underneath both, the gifted swimsuits from Lucy Gray. You tried to deny it, but she insisted, for “all you have done.” No matter your personal feelings on it, Lucy Gray, and lately Kane, thanked you for the dignity you gave the two District 12 tributes in their time at the Capitol.

Only a few feet ahead, you saw several grouped figures in the clearing of trees that transitioned from field to woods. You could tell from the height and perfect posture which one was your Coryo. It was an immense relief to know you were right, considering you jumped on his back. It was a surprise to the boy, but a very good one once he saw your wide smile. Eyes still droopy, your joy made up for your sleepiness. Coryo was quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders as your decently sized group made its way. The whole Covey was present and leading the way. In addition, Rowan was getting off the trail with the ever-loyal Maude Ivory beside her. Their victim of the day being a poor fluffy tailed squirrel on the run from the pair. Her brother, Kane – a moniker only you used – was listening intently to something Sejanus was saying. Somehow, the two met, which was a bit odd to hear him talk about “Otto.” He never met your brother, so to even hear the utterance of his name felt peculiar. Even Arachne joined in. Their conversation was quiet but brought a smile to the men's faces and an expression of pure contentment that was so foreign on Arachne’s pretty features.

To your left, Lucy Gray was lively speaking of the district and her favorite stories. To your right was a rare, relaxed Coryo. The situation you found yourself in felt too perfect to last. It was the first time in months, maybe years, or even a decade, that you and your Capitol peers felt like actual youth. Careless young people who are in love, with someone or life itself. You hummed along with Lucy Gray’s excited retelling and admired the beautiful view that opened up to you. The army of trees parted their branches to display a serene scene of emerald pines surrounding a crystal blue lake. The morning sun cast an effect of sparkles across the water's calm surface. Well, that was calm before the immense splashes of Rowan and Maude Ivory’s sudden jumps into it.

The two young girls’ antics brought the whole group laughter but also a feeling of longing for you too. There weren’t many children in the Capitol your age. Nearly all your peers had no young siblings, or if they did, there was a near ten-year age gap. The toll of the dark days still shows in the empty classrooms that the middle school-aged children should have filled. You were shaken out of your gloomy thoughts when you were physically shaken as your feet left the ground.

“Coryo—AH!”

Your shrieks were cut off by the purge of water you were suddenly thrown into. As fast as you possibly could, you cut through to the surface to see a grinning Coriolanus. Oh, that little—No one seemed to give you the courtesy of peace as your mental curses were interrupted by large splashes in your face. This time, the offender was a sly-faced Arachne. And to add onto it all, Sejanus joined in on the fun. You were still wearing your dress for goodness’ sake. Though, the fabric would have to wait as your time of revenge had dawned.

You aimed your hardest splash at your closest opponent, Arachne, and went directly for Coryo, ensuring your feet splashed Sjenanus. The pretty dress was drenched and slowing you down, but you were determined to reach the laughing blonde, and he seemed in no mood to stop you. You finally got close enough to make your own attacks, which were quickly retaliated. Coryo got closer and closer to you. Seemingly enough, he must've been some sort of magnet as you naturally floated into his space. Mere inches from each other’s faces, you soaked it all in—the water covering your entire body, the sun warming it, and the man who you loved beyond words and worldly limitations. It transcended into spheres only known to your sentiment rather than your consciousness.

Giggles bubbled all around you as you turned to see a family’s much-needed relaxation and enjoyment. Coryo used the moment to bring you close and hook his head into the crook of your neck. You watched in contentment as Maude-Ivory and Rowan raced against each other, pretending to be different types of fish, even making noises and impressions to go along with it. Sejanus floated on his back, taking in all the beauty of Twelve's nature. Arachne was swimming a few ways off, exploring the body of water. Kane was as red as a sweet apple, and you had an inclination it had nothing to do with the scorching sun, but the sunlight in human form next to him. Lucy Gray had a blinding smile that only fueled his smitten one and yours of excitement for the two.

You felt the constraints of your drenched dress loosen as Coriolanus was unbuttoning it in your moment of analysis. He quickly threw it near the shore and instantly had his arms wrapped around you. Turning to face him, you met piercing blue eyes that always brought you comfort.

“This is nice.” A sickly sweet smile played upon your lips. Coriolanus nodded along, just wanting to hear more of your voice. “Yeah?”

You breathed in the forest air, letting the atmosphere roll over you as your eyes fluttered shut. “I never thought I would be grateful for Highbottom for sending me to Twelve, but here I am. Especially with you here.”

Opening your eyes, you were not met with Coryo’s own staring back. Rather, they avoided you as they stared off toward where the rest of the group swam. A look of contemplation and seriousness carved its way onto his chiseled features. Panic started to bubble beneath your heart as possibilities started running rampant in your mind. You knew everything was too perfect to last.

“I don’t think we are going to be here much longer, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to decipher his meaning and bring some semblance of comfort to your body that started to chill. “This place,” Coriolanus continued, “it isn’t for us. We are meant to be in the Capital. We belong there, not hiding away in the woods.”

It was never to be expected that Coriolanus would like Twelve, but how exactly were the two of you supposed to go back when your exile was far from over? Not to mention, you were unsure of what to expect back at the Capital with no home nor father. Sejanus would be adamant on staying in the districts, and Arachne... well, you were unsure of Arachne these days. The only other people you were sure you could rely on were the Snows, and they themselves had no support, even less so with these weeks of separation from Coriolanus. Yet, of course, the blonde had a plan at hand to ease your apprehension.

“I was offered an officer position in One. It would be so much more pay. I can send back to my family. They are struggling so much, Y/N. They even moved out of the apartment. I need to go, and you to come with me. I’m not being separated from you again.”

Your grip on the young man tightened as you started feeling weak, even as shivers rattled your bones. Coryo immediately noticed and was quick to swim you back to shore in worry. Thoughts of the Snows' struggles and sacrifices tried to crawl their way to the forefront of your brain to distract you from the numbing feeling. Coriolanus sprinted to the basket of towels the Covey brought along and grabbed far too many in your opinion but far too few in his. The water wasn’t cold, not enough to make you shiver. And it was so instantaneous as well. No signs of cold until he mentioned his proposition, and you were suddenly freezing. You were thinking the same thing as you finally accepted this was a recurring issue. Since coming to Twelve, these bouts of frost overtook you but left within a few minutes. Though, as you expected it to wear off soon, a foreign prickling pain took hold of your right leg.

A horrific sight had black spots clouding your vision. Ice-blue crystals scaled up your shin, thinning out near your knee. You looked up to see Coryo coming back to you, and in a panic, you made the decision to try to rub it off. A horrible choice, as stings of pain shot through your veins and up to the arteries strangling your heart. An uncontrollable shout of agony left your mouth, causing the already fast strides of young Snow to rapidly speed up. He immediately dropped to his knees, covering you with warm, sun-baked towels. It was then that his eyes caught your leg. The quick-thinking Coriolanus was stunned into a bewildered freeze; his ever-turning gears halted in a mirage of anger, confusion, worry, and shock.

"I don't know, Coryo. I don't know!" you cried as emotion cracked your voice. He was still silent as he grabbed your leg to examine it while you tried to bite back any more yelps. You wished to scream at him to stop when you felt his finger lightly graze the frost, but suddenly, it started to melt away. Once assured that there wasn’t a single prickle of ice left, Coryo’s full attention turned to your lightly shivering body.

“Y/N…”

“It’s been happening since I got on the train to Twelve. I’ve tried all I can to figure out whatever ailment this is, but what is the cure to ice?!”

“Fire.”

You leveled him with an unimpressed look, undermined by the fear dancing in your eyes. Exhaustion engraved itself on your face and body language. Comfort wrapped itself around you in the form of Coryo’s arms. The constant cycle of joy and ruin was becoming too much; you just wished for peace. Not even the furthest edges of Twelve could provide it. Nothing could, except the boy you were tangled up with. You let your mind wander into a blank state while Coriolanus never had the privilege. Instead, he was calculating what could have caused your problem. You said it had been since you got on the train to Twelve. If that bastard Highbottom laid a finger on you—

"Hey, lovebirds, lunch is ready!" Sejanus shouted from further down the beach, waving you two over.

You snuggled closer to the man as a whisper snuck out. “You really think I can transfer out of here?”

The look he sent your way was the embodiment of gentleness and endearment. "You are the best mind this whole district has. I’m sure they can recognize that your place is far greater than here."

You didn’t agree with your “superiority” to the district-born, but you were open to leaving the place you were starting to love. The strings of your heart did pull at the thought of consciously leaving your uncle behind, even if he didn’t seem to recognize or enjoy your presence. You enjoyed the friendship of Lucy Gray and the antics of her sister and Rowan. Oh, Rowan and Kane. You had yet to fully comprehend that you had a cousin and the eerie similarities between your late brother and the man who took his moniker. Though, you did know where your loyalty lay most of all. It would cut you to know you would leave business unfinished, at least for now. But it would kill you to be apart yet again from the man whose love was an uncontrollable element of your existence.

Coryo slowly stood up to give you time to adjust and aided you up like any good-sensed gentleman would. His hand intertwined with yours as a hopeful smile grew on his handsome face.

“So you would come with?”

“Told you, where you go, I go. One ain’t so bad compared to an arena filled with people who want to kill you.”

You didn’t have to remind him of the cost of your loyalty. Though the confirmation made his heart soar and his stomach knot as his plan was nearly set. As the two of you met up with the rest of your group, Coriolanus helped you put your hair out of the way of your food. In the process, his swiftness and subtlety completed the last part of his plan. While surrounded by warm and lively conversation, the pocket of Coriolanus was weighed down with a ring of anticipation.

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After several hours of answering the endless questions from Maude-Ivory and Rowan about the Capitol, it was late afternoon, and time to go back. The covey had a show later that night, and Ott-Kane had to get ready for his shift at the bar. It slightly frightened you how easily your subconscious was willing to call him Otto. The foreign feeling lingered off your tongue, and the constriction of your heart made you uneasy. Your friends left oddly quickly, and even Sejanus didn't wait for you or Coryo. The latter was oddly slow to take his leave. For all his talk of wanting to leave Twelve, he did take his time looking around an unusual number of times. His behavior made you antsy, and your natural instinct was to grip your metal rings, which had brought you comfort these past few weeks. However, the action provided the exact opposite of the comfort you sought.

Horror made you nauseous as you felt your bare neck. Over and over again, you slapped your neck and chest, yet not a single one of the three rings was there. Short breaths were the only sounds you could hear above the blood pounding in your ears. How could you be so careless?! They were certainly expensive pieces of jewelry, but to you, they were priceless. They represented your mother, your legacy, and your love.

You searched everywhere in your immediate vicinity, doing your best not to alert Coriolanus. It was his family ring, among yours, that you had lost. Oh, he would be so disappointed. Maybe even furious at your reckless behavior. However, there is very little one can hide from the watchful eye of the Snow heir.

"Your rings!"

"I know! Please, please don't be mad! I don't even know how I lost them; they are always so secure. What if I lost them, Coryo! Oh no, what if I lost them? What do I do? Oh my—"

"Y/N! Love, please just breathe!"

Hands on your shoulders forced you to inhale and exhale. The process helped you calm, but it could not lift the doom placed upon you. You met Coriolanus's eyes, which you expected to be hard with annoyance at your panic, yet they were barely concerned. There was a softness to them you felt was undeserved.

"Let's go find them, okay?"

You were already taking steps back toward the lakefront, but Coryo suggested you look in the woods. It was too late to inform him that, if your memory served you correctly, you had your necklace during your trek here. Only after your swim and the ice debacle did you lose track of the family heirlooms' location. But Coriolanus was already lost in the trees as you ran to catch up with him. His walk wasn't one of slow scanning but a determined march. He didn’t even seem the least bit confused about where to go, as he should have been, being so new to this section of the woods. Rather, he knew exactly when to jump over tricky roots and when to move branches out of the way for you. The last rays of sunlight had already set, leaving twilight to dance above your heads. A beautiful sight you wished you could indulge in, but it only reminded you of the lost beauty you felt you were drifting further and further away from.

After several minutes of blindly trailing after Coriolanus, who barely glanced around, you cracked.

"Coryo, stop! We are going the wrong way. Please, we only have so much more light. I can't lose these too!"

The crack in your voice pierced his heart, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. He was so, so close—just a few more steps.

"Let's just look a little further."

You gave an exasperated huff as your head tilted backward. Why was he being so difficult?

"Coryo, please—"

"Wait, what is that?”

Your eyebrows scrunched as Coryo pointed to something shiny a few feet ahead of you. Immediately, your feet carried you toward the possible source of your relief. So focused on the possibility, you didn’t realize the metal twinkled because of the numerous string lights surrounding the circular clearing of trees. You bent down and swiped the fallen leaves off quickly as your shaking hands gently lifted the metal. Though, apprehension turned into confusion as it was something you recognized, though it wasn't your adored jewelry. It was Coriolanus's peacekeeper dog tags.

You turned around, puzzled, as your eyes were still on the tags. "Coryo—"

All words, breath, and blood in you froze.

There, on one knee, a scene only from the most earnest chambers of your heart appeared. Coriolanus Snow held out the ring of his family, passed to you. The twinkling light encircling the two of you illuminated the display with bright yellow yarrow and pure white baby’s breath intertwined into bouquets among the branches. Even the warm lighting couldn’t fully hide the rouge and heat washing over Coriolanus’s smiling face.

"Y/N—"

In hindsight, you mentally kicked yourself for not waiting to hear his speech. Though you couldn’t blame yourself, as you fully threw yourself at the love of your life.

"YES! YES!"

You didn’t really think through your actions as you both fell back onto the dirt forest floor, but you didn’t mind, and seemingly enough, neither did Coryo, as you sealed your answer with a hundred little pecks. Your emotional hurricanes had been far too common lately, but in that moment, the few tears of joy and giddy laughter were welcomed as you held his face close and him to you.

"You are sure? What if my speech was horrible?"

A tear and a laugh couldn’t be contained as you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous question. "It’s your smooth talking that got the girl to say yes, Coryo. So yes, I’m sure."

A grin split his face as he dived back in for one more kiss that would have melted into a mind-numbing amount more if you hadn’t broken it with a toothy grin of your own.

"So can I have my ring back?"

"Technically, it’s my house ring."

"Either way, it’s mine now, isn’t it?" You smirked, and the flushed young man couldn’t help the fluttering feeling in his heart float freely.

"Well yes, it is, Mrs. Snow."

Somehow, even with your tumble to the ground, the ring of Snow still remained in Coriolanus’s hands. Hand in hand, his slightly calloused fingers gently slid the shimmering heirloom along your ring finger. It fit perfectly. A good thing, as its integrity would be tested when suddenly a force picked you up and spun you around.

"Finally!!"

Sejanus’s voice rang out as the trees turned into blurs while you were spinning in the air.

"I do think Mr. Snow would like his fiancée in one piece, Sejanus."

Arachne’s dry voice rang out but was mixed with a tone of softness so foreign to the redhead. As you were placed down, albeit a bit dizzy, it was no longer just you and Coriolanus in the clearing. Sejanus and Arachne you heard (and felt), but you were also graced with a giddy and jumping Lucy Gray, the cheering and dancing pair of Rowan and Maude-Ivory, and a content Kane leaning against a large-trunked tree.

You turned to Sejanus as the brightly smiling boy crushed you in a hug, and you cackled in shock. "I'm so happy for you two!"

"I can tell by the way you’re crushing my wife to death.”

Coryo’s presence was felt as Sejanus let go with a sheepish look, which turned into one of pride as he looked at his two closest friends, so happy with each other. Sejanus turned to hug and congratulate Coryo as you turned to a vulnerable-looking Arachne. She caught your eye and tried to give her best genuine smile, though you could tell it was a bit of a struggle.

"Congrats, Ace. You deserve it."

Her voice was laced with an unspoken sadness that she tried to cover up with joy for the two of you. It puzzled you, as you couldn't figure out what the gravity of her tone could be from.

"Hey, don’t give me that face. I’m still going to need a maid of honor and a friend to complain to." You joked with her to lighten the mood, and thankfully, she laughed along. Arachne wasn't one for hugs nor sentimentality; you knew that much, but she did try her best. She placed a hand on your shoulder as a light smile curved her lips upwards.

"I’m being serious, Y/N. You deserve your happiness, no matter who it is."

Arachne didn’t give you much time to ponder her last bit as she turned away, and your attention was grabbed by an elated Lucy Gray. Immediately, you were enveloped in a hug.

"Soulmates! You two are made for each other, and now you are getting married!"

Her ecstatic voice rang through the trees as your giggle followed its pathway. You separated from the embrace, and your eyes crinkled from your smile.

"Thank you! Though, I do have a favor to ask of you as your friend. The wedding wouldn't feel complete without you there—"

"I thought you would never ask!"

Yes, another crushing embrace (you weren’t sure your ribs were going to hold due to the amount of these hugs). "Oh, please let me sing! Your love will be so easy to write and sing about. It flows as naturally as the river's waves."

You could only giggle at her excitement as you agreed, and yet another cheer erupted from her. An energy matched by the two jumping girls sprinting toward you, nearly crashing into your abdomen.

"Can we come, please, please?!"

"I can sing too! Lucy Gray says I'm getting just as good as her!"

"I can do all the flowers! I did the ones today, look!"

Suddenly, a bouquet of white and yellow flowers was thrust into your face by Rowan. You took it gently with a sweet smile as you examined the pretty floral arrangement.

"We both did it! Rowan did the yellow yarrow, and I did the white baby’s breath! It reminded me of Coriolanus's hair."

That made you and Lucy Gray burst into laughter at the admission.

"They both mean everlasting love! That's what Lucy Gray keeps saying you have!"

Your eyes drifted away from the ecstatic girls to your brunette friend, who met you with a satisfied grin. You turned back to the chaotic pair to greet them with good news.

"Well, nothing's a party if you two aren’t there, is that right?"

High-pitched shrieks of excitement erupted from the two as they hugged your lower body tightly.

"So we get to go to the Capitol?!"

Your mind paused at the question. You forgot the reality of your country and just how difficult it would be to get two little girls from the poorest district to attend your wedding. Lucy Gray could be argued for due to her victor status, but anyone else would be an issue. Though, you had a saving grace in the form of Rowan and practically Maude-Ivory’s older brother.

"Okay, you two have pestered her enough."

Groans of disappointment and debate were quickly shut down as the pair were beckoned by Lucy Gray to go congratulate Coriolanus. They begrudgingly followed the singer, who shared a quick honey-laced smile with Kane.

"Seems like there’s another love brewing, huh?"

You teased lightly as he flushed beneath the string lights’ rays. He scratched his neck as he gave you a shy yet proud look.

"I just wanted to say congratulations. You deserve that kind of love. I know you will go back eventually, and I am nothing compared to the Capitol’s might, but if he ever does anything, just know how good I am with a bow and arrow."

His words were spoken with such sincerity that holding back the flood of emotion was cracking through your composure. He sounded so much like your brother. You deserved the love given to you, and he deserved the name and respect your brother once held. Maybe it was too much, but you slowly wrapped your arms around him as you muttered a thank you into his chest.

"Thank you, Otto."

He looked down at your face in surprise, and as you looked up, he knew it wasn't a mix-up. He meant every word he said, as did you. He returned the embrace, and you felt transported back to that little five-year-old who didn’t know that would be the last time she hugged her brother, her world. Though this time, this wasn’t meant to be the last; it was just the beginning. You knew you would have to leave, but you swore to yourself it wouldn’t be forever. Your blood is both in the Capitol and right here in the woods of Twelve. You wouldn’t abandon either.

Coriolanus watched from afar as he felt relief for you. He knew how much this situation was tearing you apart. A minuscule piece of him, however, did regret taking you away from this newfound part of your long-thought-dead lineage. He wasn’t given much time to stew, though, as Arachne’s presence made itself known.

"Congrats, Coryo."

The blonde turned to the girl, who now had her eyes trained on you. A longing and devastation fought against each other in her chestnut-colored eyes.

"Arachne?"

He beckoned to the girl, but she closed her eyes as she tried to finally seal off her heart. She knew this was coming, and she should be more than grateful for your friendship. The universe never favored her anyways. Arachne Crane was always destined for the black matter, while you and Coryo were the sun's favorite muses.

"You've won once again. Treat her well." And she was off. Coriolanus knew of her affections for you and didn’t wish to parade you off to her. Though, he couldn’t help but feel pride at being able to call you his. His wife. Ambition never resting on him, soon to call you his first lady. Coriolanus sauntered over to your conversation with Otto, who nodded approvingly to the man who was now your husband-to-be and left you two. You turned with a lovesick grin to the charming man.

"So to be clear, I didn’t lose my rings?"

Coriolanus laughed, shaking his head, as he grabbed your necklace from his pocket, dangling it in front of you. You turned around without a word as he seamlessly clipped it around your neck. Now only the two your mother always wore were along the fine chain. The most important radiated upon your finger.

"Oh, I still have your dog tags!"

"Keep them."

You cocked your head at his proposition, but you had no room to argue when he gently took them from your fingers and made them neighbors with the fine jewelry already there. You softly caressed the metal that had his name engraved upon it and turned to the tall blonde.

"Well, now everyone knows I’m yours."

"Well, I can’t complain about that now, can I?"

Oh, to be young and in love. To live in a dream. Yet, all must wake from their dreams, and you didn’t have a choice in the method. If you did, you would have never chosen the method of death.

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@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear 🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹 @nekee-lilac02 @fantasylovestoryme 🌹 @a-avengerparker 🌹

[dandylion240]

“Honey” Cory said sitting beside Jonah on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Burrowing his face into the older man’s shoulder he whimpered softly shaking his head. “It’s nothing” he murmured when he was able to speak.

“It’s something to make you act like this” Cory pointed out softly rubbing the back of Jonah’s neck. “Tell me what happened.”

Sniffing Jonah moved enough to look up at the older man. A year ago he’d never have thought he’d be in a relationship. Never considered getting involved with someone so much older. “I saw my brother today. He was at the lounge.”

“Oh” his eyes filled with understanding. He didn’t need to know what happened. The fact that Jonah was trying to blend into the couch cushions was explanation enough. Cupping his face between his hands “I’m sorry it didn’t go well.”

Several large tears rolled down his cheeks. “He accused me of doing drugs.”

The hurt bewildered tone made Cory’s heart ache. He knew to the untrained eye the scars along Jonah’s arms could look like track marks instead of the cuttings they were. Images of the night he found Jonah lying in a pool of blood because he’d cut too deep and nicked an artery. He’d almost died….”do you want me to schedule an appointment with Doctor Morgan?”

Stiffening his arms “I don’t…”

Kissing his protesting lips Cory chuckled softly “I know you don’t want to but you know you should.”

Jonah hated knowing he needed the therapist as much as he disliked why he had to have one. “Alright” he agreed earning a smile from Cory that almost made up for it.

“What do you want for dinner” he asked thankful that Jonah hadn’t fought him on this.

Shrugging he looked away “I’m not really hungry.”

“You will be later” he checked the time “Courtney’s not even home from school yet. You have plenty of time to work up an appetite”

“I don’t…um not right now” The look of horror in his eyes saying more than his fumbling words could.

“I didn’t mean that” he chuckled hoping this wasn’t the start of another dark episode.

“Let’s watch a movie” he suggested. When Jonah failed to respond he asked “still thinking about your brother?”

Jonah’s head jerked upwards “I’m sorry. I know Jayden. He’s not going to give up. What am I going to do?”

“I thought you wanted to see your family” he said taking his hand.

“I’m not good enough” the self-defeat evident in his downcast face and shoulders.

“What happened to you wasn’t your fault” he repeated firmly as he’d down thousands of time in the past few months.

“I put myself in that situation” he cried going back to his usual comeback. This time after he said it he got up “I should check on Eli. He should be waking from his nap.” A clear sign he was withdrawing from the situation.

Shaking his head Cory let him go. He was in unfamiliar territory. Jonah had always argued with him trying to prove how it was his fault. For leaving home the way he did. Taking the job at the bar where he didn’t feel safe. Everything was his fault. Something else was bothering him now.

Walking to the baby’s room he opened the door to find Jonah talking to Eli. “I’m going out. I’ll be back with supper.”

Nodding Jonah whispered in Eli’s ear ‘tell Cory bye bye.” His son giggled lifting his hand waving at Cory as he left.

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