#Custom Funeral mask

[gremlingottoosilly]

König with Florist!Reader? He meets them for the first time when he had stopped by the nearest flower shop at the time to hastily purchase a bouquet for a date he had in the next hour.

He just needs something nice. No matter the price, he said - and flowers didn't matter too. You were almost fine with letting your fantasy go wild as you thought about all the different combinations you could master, but his face looked way too sad for you to be happy for him. You don't want to judge your customers, but the guy looks like he is going to be stood up at his own funeral. It's not that he is not handsome - there is something cool and mysterious about his large stature and scars, but the mask and the anxiety mixed with intimidation in his eyes is not going well for someone like him. Still, you made him the best bouquet you could. Expensive and elaborate, with a careful explanation of each flower and its meaning - the best wishes you could master. He chuckled nervously when he took it, brushing it against your hands for a second longer than needed. You only smiled, feeling his awkwardness. He seemed like a nice guy. Of course, he got stood up. You saw him going past your shop in an hour, looking too sad for a guy who got on a date with the best partner of his life. You almost wanted to run over and call him - maybe even get him a refund if the store owner would agree on this...but you didn't. Would be like rubbing salt on his wounded heart, you think. Still, he started visiting you. For some weird reason, however, it seems like the guy doesn't know what the flower shops are actually for. He would always come, ask you for the coolest bouquet where you can go wild - expensive rainbow roses, peonies out of season, the elaborate assortments of colorful fabrics and little golden bows. Always leave you a tip, even though florists usually don't get those...and then leave the bouquet with you. Almost like he wanted it to be a gift for you - but never saying it outright, making you guess each time.

[syoddeye]

ghoap x reader. i'm simple. i see an awful joke, and i am compelled to bake it into something. ~800 words. barely edited.

cw: alcohol, verbal + sexual harassment

working in bars, you've heard it all. break ups. proposals. affair arrangements. funeral arrangements. gossip. secrets. and some awful pickup lines.

you grow a thick skin, working service. long behind you are the days when you smiled through the lewd comments and near-misses from reaching hands. nowadays, you give it to them right back or signal for the bouncer on duty to scruff the dogs who bark up the wrong tree.

your ears filter out most comments. you know you're nice to look at, that your tits are near bursting out the low neckline of your shirt. you can handle the harmless mutterings between horny customers queued up for drinks. it's when they breach that sacred boundary of the rail for anything other than fetching their drink or paying—that's when they earn a ticket to the curb.

tonight's no different. you see three drunks kicked out before midnight. light work.

the hours burn quick like cheap candles. a brief lull comes shortly before midnight, giving you time to clean and reset a bit. it's also when your ears snag on a conversation you quickly realize is spoken just loud enough for you to hear.

"yer right lt, look at that arse."

"tits match."

"big handfuls."

"think you can–"

you swing around abruptly, knowing you'll catch them off guard. you'll watch them stutter and stammer through their order and choke on their filthy little fantasies. tails tucked all the way back to hide in whatever dark corner of the bar they came from.

only. they don't.

"can i help you...gentleman?"

they go right on talking, as if you aren't right in front of them.

"–'andle 'er?"

"aye, she's my type."

they're quite the pair. massive specimens of strength sitting shoulder to shoulder. close enough to be thigh to thigh, too. the bigger freak wears a fucking balaclava, one arm draped over his companion. his big paw toys with a silver ring punched through the ear lobe of the other man. it's a weird, almost tender, and normal thing. if they shut up, they'd appear normal. but between their statures and the way their eyes roam over you—normal's the last thing you'd call them.

"i said can i help you," you snarl, snapping back to reality after the one with the mohawk makes another comment about your ass. "order, or move the fuck on."

judging by the crinkling of his dark eyes, the masked man grins, then turns and ducks his head. "you wanna order?"

"too fuckin' hard to think, sir."

that earns a creepy, breathy chuckle from behind the mask. his fingers abandon his companion's earring to ruffle his hair. he straightens on his seat, and drapes two thick arms on the rail. he levels his gaze at you, and it's worse than his leering. it strips you bare.

"got cider?"

the question does nothing for your unease. "yeah," you start to rattle off what's available before he interrupts.

"got woodnut?"

your nose scrunches. you've never heard of it. "wood nut...?"

"'cause i would nut inside ya."

it's easily one of the most atrocious lines you've ever heard. just bad. coming out of another man's mouth, you'd throw your head back and laugh. and yet.

years of working in restaurants and bars. years of horror stories and bad customers. a hide tough enough to weather the worst of the worst, and the bastard flays you alive. peels off your layers and leaves you exposed, completely clothed, and behind a solid oak bar.

it's not the childish vulgarity or the shock value. it's the naked intent in this man's eyes. that he means it.

his hands flex, and two knuckles rap quietly on the wood. you know it would be nothing for him to grab you by the collar, haul you across the bar, and bend you over the sticky silicone mat. beside him, his friend's eyes are wide, mouth stuck in a tight smirk. it'd be a group effort.

the air thins. a short eternity passes. cold dread meets blstering anger.

you don't recall the specifics of what you yell. only that you shriek like a harpy, indignant and scandalized. cheeks burning and palms sliced where your nails dig into them. you point a finger at the door, and the bouncer looks sheepish for the first time since you started. the men go freely, laughing to themselves. loosely herded by your coworker, who looks like a kid next to them.

your manager gives you a free fifteen for the trouble, but beyond that, he isn't too sympathetic. you dig out a smoke from the bottom of your bag and make for the staff door that leads out to the bins. a bundle of raw nerves. reduced to scraps, dignity shattered. obliterated.

there's a chill in the air. it helps some. you struggle with your lighter, sniffling and muttering. your thumb keeps slipping off the wheel.

somewhere down the alley, glass crunches.

[aetherialfalmer]

Burial rituals headcanons

Nords obviously held their funerals with burning pyres but they tend to pass down the dead loved ones trusted weapon through the family. Usually the spouse holds the weapon until their children are ready to wield it. After death, the weapon is usually engraved with a personal quote.

Argonians who still hold the hist in high regard, often spread the ashes of their dead loved one in water ways like rivers, streams etc. Their belief is that all water is connected, so their loved one will find their way back to the hist and be reincarnated.

Khajiit when on the road will make custom urns for their fallen loved ones, some even wear small urns to take pieces of them with them. The passed's jewelry is often worn by their surviving family or caravan members as a way to remember them.

Bosmer preserve bones and make sentimental beaded necklaces out of their loved one's bones. The skull was respectfully kept in tact and often sat in an area the family gathered in. It was a way for the deceased to still watch over them.

Vampires, while being a wide variety in themselves, have a similar ritual noticed among the scattered clans of Tamriel. If the clan members can recover their body, the fallen is cremated and scattered before sunrise, so they can see the sun shortly before their soul would be sent to Oblivion.

Much has been lost on the Dwemer but interesting finds have been found in ruins across the land. Rooms that were built to resemble tombs had coffins against the walls. Inside were masks assumed to be worn by the corpse of a dead Dwemer. Each found seems to be personalized as no two have been the exact same. Sadly, mostly just ash have been found in the coffins, the whereabouts of the corpses is yet to be determined. We can guess that it was a similar process Nords went under when becoming draugr, minus being undead tomb caretakers.

The underground Falmer have been noted to have mourning rituals under careful study. The corpse is covered in a putrid oil that wards off hungry charus from digging up the grave and eating it. Then, they work on a grave marker shortly before burial. Instead of their loud shrieks and clicks, those in attendance were noted to make low rumbling and chittering noises.

[katakaluptastrophy]

So we all know how Ianthe became a Lyctor for “ultimate power—and posters of [her] face.”

And I'm sure someone made a nice icon.

But you know who would have definitely gotten a poster of their face? Coronabeth.

Think about it: every House but the Ninth has lost a scion. In a culture that thrives on melodrama and the conspicuous consumption of death, there is a wave of hysterical funerary fervour to mourn their lost leaders. And the Third - the House of glitz, trendsetting, and political intrigue - has lost its beloved Crown Princess.

We don't know a huge amount about funerals in the Nine Houses, but we do know a bit about Third House funerals:

The front coffin is distinguished from its fellows by its gorgeous arrangement of flowers and wreaths. The flowers are all in hues of gold or violet, and are fake. The coffin is hinged open at the front, with its contents hidden from view by the flowers. A tray of meat is rested on the closed bottom half of the coffin. A queue of gaudily masked mourners process past the coffin, slowly, each one taking a strip of meat, then stopping by the head to lean within—kissing or feeding; we can’t be sure. - TUG

Apparently, a Third House funeral - unsurprisingly for flesh magicians - focuses on the physical. The reverence of/fear of/(lust for?) the body. A wake on steroids. But they received no body for Coronabeth. So I can only imagine larger than life posters of Corona decked with flowers, the weeping crowds surging through the streets of Ida, etc etc... Poor Ianthe, second place once again to a 'corpse'.

Moving past Ianthe to House funerary customs in general, and to the awful aftermath of the Lyctor trials in particular, it seems especially unfair that neither of the flesh magic Houses got a body back to mourn. Obviously Corona wasn't actually dead, but for those who believed her to be, the lack of a body for such visceral funerary rights must have been traumatic.

We don't have as many details of Seventh funerals, but the House famous for it's "beguiling corpses" likely also focuses much of its post-mortem ritual around the body. Dulcie suggests that the deceased might even leave specific instructions in their will about the appearance of their corpse:

That drawing looked nothing like me. I loved it. You don’t know this so it doesn’t help, but I included it in my will and put down that I wanted to look like that after I died. I thought maybe it would give you a laugh at the funeral, you know? - TUG

Meanwhile, the Fourth, Fifth, and Eighth receive their perfect pairs of "statuesque and incorruptible" bodies, preserved beyond the wildest dreams of the Seventh. These Houses are all spirit magicians. The Fourth, for whom thanergetically detonating oneself on a battlefield far from the rays of Dominicus isn't unheard of, almost certainly have funerary rites that don't presuppose a body. And the Fifth, whose necromantic practice is far more concerned with the spirit than the body, likely centre their most significant funerary rites around the ghost.

Y'know, the bit they don't have? Just as the flesh magicians of the Third and Seventh would have been unable to mourn their lost scions with rites around the body, the Fifth would have been unable to call their ghosts, trapped in Harrow's River bubble.

So amidst all the grief and awfulness, and the Emperor refusing to answer any questions about what happened (why are they all dead? Why are so many bodies missing? Where are the ghosts? Why are the bodies so creepily perfect?), half the Houses can't even mourn their dead in the way they normally would.

[the20thangel]

The Comforts in the Flames

Cregan Stark x Velayron! Reader

Summary: As the realm grieves for Prince Jacaerys, Cregan Stark arrives with his men to support the queen and bid farewell to the prince. There, he meets you, a Velayron Couisn, who is also deeply mourning a sweet boy you knew.

Tags: This is my first time writing for Cregan; please be gentle in your feedback, and I hope you enjoy it. Stay tuned for more fanfics

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

Dragonstone was a chaotic mess; the servants and noble houses were running around, saddened by their grief as they tried to prepare for the funeral of Prince Jacaerys. Many houses, especially those who met the prince, came to show their condolences to the Queen over losing her heir and son, but most importantly, to show their honor in keeping their oath to the late prince. They honored their promises to House Targaryen, Queen Rhaenyra, and Prince Jacaerys. One of the great houses was House Stark, led by Cregan Stark, who was stricken with sadness over the boy he saw as a brother. 

Cregan felt out of place here; the island was grey and gloomy, almost like it knew of the tragedy, with dragons crying in the distance, crying for their fallen sea dragon prince—nothing like Winterfell, with the white sheen from the snow and howls of direwolves in the distance. He tried to stay distant from the funeral preparations, another aspect in which he felt inadequate. In the North and Winterfell, they place their dead in the crypts while House Targaryen makes pyres. He respected his Queen and her house customs, but it did not stop him from feeling like an intruder. 

As He walked to the clearing where the funeral would take place, he saw someone wearing teal blue clothing and white curly hair standing infront of the ever-growing pyre. He recognized you as someone from House Velayron, Prince Jacaerys second family. House Velayron had arrived a fortnight earlier, and Alyn and Corlys Velayron expressed regrets to the Queen for not being able to bring back the prince’s body for the Targaryen funeral. It was a tense time for both houses, having lost three prominent figures in such a short amount of time. Ever curious, Cregan allowed himself to walk closer to you, seeing how meticulously you wrapped the banners of Houses Velayron and Targaryen, representing both sides of the prince. Deciding to make his presence known to you without frightening you, Cregan cleared his throat, defeating his purpose as it made you jump slightly from hearing such a deep and foreign voice. 

Cregan huffed, trying to mask his slight laugh as a cough, “My apologies, milady, I did not mean to frighten you.” 

You placed a soothing hand on your chest to calm your slight nerves as you turned to the deep northern voice. You replied, “Oh, hello, Lord Stark. There is no need to apologize. I should be more aware of my surroundings. What kind of sailor can I be if I am not always aware of my surroundings?” 

Cregan smiled at the lady, “I still apologize. May I ask your name? I figured from your clothes and previous comment that you are from House Velayron.” 

Turning to face the Wolf Lord, you took in his handsome features. However, you were used to seeing Valyrian features from Houses Targaryen and Celtigar prominently being so close to your own; you could not help but marvel at the handsomeness of the Blood of the First Men shown in this man before you. 

“I am (name) Velayron. Lord Corlys is my Lord Uncle.” you introduced yourself to the Lord of Winterfell. 

Cregan tried not to frown. He did not want to offend, but the only brother he knew of Corlys Velayron was that of Vaemond, and he never spoke kindly to his Queen or her sons. You noticed the winter wolf’s face change and quickly commented further. 

“Oh! I am the daughter of the youngest brother of my uncle. Vaemond …was my uncle, and we tolerated him at best.” You laughed nervously, not wanting to speak badly about your late uncle, but it was true. Besides his immediate family, Vaemond made it extremely difficult to care for him.

Cregan flushed in embarrassment that you hurried to defend yourself due to his facial reaction. 

“I again apologize, Milady. It… it's just that he was not seen in a positive light…” Seeing his ever-growing nervousness show through his red face as he tried to defend himself, you thought how cute it was. 

You gave him a wide grin and decided to ease his misery: " There's no need to keep apologizing, my lord. I knew my uncle, and he was rather unkind to everyone. He was vulgar to my cousins, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys, and Prince Joffrey.” 

You grew sorrowful again at the mention to both Jace and Luke. Both were taken so young from this world. Feeling tears prickle at your eyes, you turned slightly back to the pyre, trying to finish the last details before the funeral. You wanted everyone to see that House Velayron, the true Velayron, recognized Jace as a Velayron and wanted to honor him. Seeing your sorrow, Cregan also turned to the sea, frowning that it had swallowed two princes, and instead of a body, they would be burning clothes.

Not wanting to take more of your time, Cregan announced he was going to the castle for a while but would see you during the funeral, which promoted a nod in agreement for you, wishing him a restful break before the funeral.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As what seemed the whole island made its way to the cliff where the pyre was located, House Velayron stood somberly but proudly behind their queen. You were standing by the Queen’s side, holding objects from Prince Jacaerys that would burn in place of his body. The queen called for her dragon to come forward and asked her beloved Golden Lady to light the pyre as the She-dragon was too mourning another son, Vermax.  After Syrax crawled back from lighting the pyre, you handed the Queen the first piece of clothing. Even in her moments of grief, Rhaenyra gave you a small smile, always remembering how your Velayron side always defended her boys, and she even considered once a marriage between you and her boys. But that was all in the past, and now she can only be grateful you were here to support her in her grief. Once the funeral officially ended, the queen left with the crowd following her back to the castle. On the other hand, you stayed behind, watching the last embers burn; as you let tears flow, you began humming a Valyrian Lullaby, hoping the prince would hear it in his journey to Balerion’s realm. 

Cregan once again stood next to you, silently listening to the tune. He held something in his hand. As you finished humming the song, you turned to him. Seeing his uncertainty, you decided to be brave and ask him what was bothering him. 

Cregan turned his grey eyes to your purple eyes; you gulped at his intense stare. 

“ I… I was hoping to burn a few things, Jace- I mean, Prince Jacaerys left me during his trip to the north,” whispered Cregan. 

You gave a watery smile and touched that the Winter Lord wanted to honor the prince. 

“Of course, I will help you throw them into the pyre. May I ask what they are?” you pondered, hoping you didn’t cross the boundary with him. 

Cregan opened his hand with a wolfish grin, revealing a letter and a small sea dragon brooch. You smiled, recognizing the brooch. 

“This was the last letter he sent me, and he gave me this brooch to signify our brotherhood; he said it was special to him.” croaked Cregan as he remembered the brave prince. 

“Yes, I’m glad he loved that brooch…” you started saying while staring at the stark lord; seeing his confused state, you continued. 

“I gave him that brooch. After his father Laenor passed, he was worried about the future, and I gave him the brooch to remind him that he was a Velayron prince as much as Targaryen. It was also my symbol declaring my loyalty to him and Queen Rhaenyra. I’m glad he cared about you and trusted you so much that you could hold onto it.” 

Cregan gaped. He felt guilty for throwing it into a fire and stated he should instead return it to you. You quickly grasped his hand, closing it tightly around the brooch. 

“No, my lord, he gave it to you. It should stay with you or return with Jace as he enters Balerion’s realm. Either way, I know the brooch will be with someone who rightfully should have it. So choose, my lord, it stays with you or goes with Jace.” 

For a moment, Cregan stared at you in awe of your kindness. Both of you gazed into each other's eyes, hands intertwined. After another beat, Cregan raised your hands, pressing a light kiss to yours as he asked you to throw the brooch into the dying fire. Blushing, you took the letter and brooch, telling Cregan to follow you closer as you both stood infront of the pyre. You said a quick prayer as you threw the items into the fire. Staring as the flames change colors due to the minerals and jewels of the brooch. You both mourn the loss of a prince who was deeply loved and cared about by many, including you both. Your hands lightly graze each other, finding peaceful comfort and solace in each other.

[fistfuloflightning]

”You said the Vala in black is a mourner?” Maeglin looked up from reading through a handful of Salgant’s harp scores. A conversation from when the Lord of the Harp had first befriended a grieving , freshly orphaned young elf. When Maeglin had first learned more of the Valar than the brief words Aredhel could spare in Eol’s absence.

“Nienna is the Weeper, yes. She comforts those who have died. It is why she was invoked at the funeral.” There were lots of things Maeglin did not know about Noldorin customs, much of which Aredhel had simply neglected to teach him. But Salgant did not ridicule him for his ignorance, instead treating his never ending questions with patience. Even now he stopped his hands to give Maeglin’s question his full attention. “Though she is not the one to call the fëa once it has left the hroa. It is the Doomsman of the Valar who does that. Though there are those who simply refuse the call.” Salgant dropped his attention to the lathe before him, the mask he was shaping. The scent of cut cedar warmed the air. “Those who might not heed the call to Mandos, those who wish to remain Houseless—to say nothing of those who wish not to leave this land for one they’ve never seen.”

A surge of fear had Maeglin’s fingers almost tearing apart the parchment in his hands. He watched the older elf with wide eyes. Might not heed… “Will…will I be able to see Emel after she is reborn?”

But Salgant merely nodded as if there were no question as to Aredhel’s decisions. “I am sure of it. Should you die here—and I pray upon the grace of the Valar that you do not—you would also be called to the Halls of Mandos, where all the dead receive comfort and healing.”

Something tightened in Maeglin’s chest and he once more felt the prickle of tears in his eyes. He whipped his head away, ostensibly to examine the nearby masks Salgant had nearly finished for an upcoming festival, all tassels and gold and richly layered paints. “Is it…peaceful? In the Halls?”

Salgant gently set down the wooden mask he’d been shaping. He looked out the window at the plaza below, but Maeglin felt as if he was looking with those kind eyes at him. “I would imagine it is so. A place where you can lay your burden down. Where all pain and hurt is soothed away. At least, I would hope so.”

Maeglin remembered belatedly that Salgant’s brother died upon the Ice. Perhaps Salgant missed him just as much as Maeglin missed his mother. He dropped his watering gaze to the music scores in his lap.

A hand rested on the top of his head, patting softly. For a heartbreaking moment he could pretend it was Aredhel’s hand stroking his hair, as was her wont. But she was gone. And he wouldn’t see her unless the Ban was lifted and they could sail across to a world he’d never even dreamed of. She was so far away and Maeglin felt every inch of that distance.

So when Salgant pulled him into a hug, he went gratefully.

Snippet from an unpublished fic where Salgant adopts Maeglin

[tenderleavesbob]

Hi I love your writing so much, and I have something you could use for one of your mini fix if you want. What if warriors smokes. So I’m not in the military, but I have a lot of family members who are and if there’s some thing I’ve learned about the military, is it will give you three addictions, alcohol, nicotine and adrenaline. I understand that kind of thing makes some people uncomfortable. But I would love to see what you would do with this idea if you wanted to use it.

Hi! Thank you! Let's see what I can do...

Warriors picked it up during the war. Mask and Tune loved telling him that it was a dirty habit, but he thought that the scent of blood was stronger than the scent of smoke. A sword to the gut would kill him quicker than the cigarettes did.

He didn't do it often. During the war, he made a point of only doing it away from Mask and Tune. Both of them did it at least once in mimicry of him, and it was one of the few times he raised his voice to them. He never saw them do it again, and he usually only did it when he was with his other soldiers.

Or when a battle went terribly. Mask and Tune said nothing on those nights when the Captain found somewhere quiet and smoked, staring at the sky. No amount of smoke from his cigarettes compared to the smoke rising from the battlefield, after all.

After the war, his smoking briefly increased. Mask and Tune weren't there to scold him and it didn't leave him with a hangover like whiskey did. It helped when no amount of words from Zelda or Impa did.

By the time he met with the rest of the chain and began his first real adventure, Warriors barely smoked at all anymore. The occasional smoke when the noise in his head was too loud and when shadows filled his vision more than living people.

Tonight was one of those nights. He sat outside the inn and exhaled a plume of smoke. Flimsy gray filled his vision, blocking out the dark sky. Warriors stared at it. His chest hurt and he wished he could blame the cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked," Sky said quietly, sitting beside him.

"I usually don't." Warriors switched hands so the cigarette was farther from Sky. "I picked some up from the apothecary. I'll be back inside soon."

It was a polite dismissal. The last thing Sky needed was to breathe in the smoke. Sky, being a Link, ignored the cue.

"Are you all right?"

Warriors stared into the darkness and put his cigarette back to his mouth. It scraped against his dry lips. The burn was like an old friend. He tried to blow out a smoke ring, but he wasn't good at it. "Of course. Is everyone sleeping?"

"Even Time," Sky confirmed. "You should be sleeping, too. You've had a long couple days."

"After I'm done." The gray dissipated in the night air. His cigarette was burning low. The tips of his fingers looked dark, but that could have just been the dim light.

"Twilight is going to be fine," Sky said. His words were soft but still struck Warriors like a blow. "He's sleeping well now and will be ready to move out in the morning. You heard Hyrule."

But it would have been so easy for it to end otherwise. Warriors expected it toward the end. He had already been planning his funeral.

During the war, Warriors had to learn everyone's funeral preferences. Too often, he couldn't find out in time or couldn't respect them due to the sheer amount of deaths. Only during this mess did Warriors realize that he didn't know Ordonian funeral customs.

"I know," Warriors said. "I'll be inside soon."

The cigarette smoke was drifting toward Sky. Warriors never understood why that happened. When Sky didn't move or even flinch when the smoke brushed against his face like a morbid caress, Warriors knew it was time to wrap up.

He took one last drag. The rush it provided wasn't as comforting as he hoped.

If they had cremated Twilight, Warriors wouldn't have smoked then. It was a silent agreement among soldiers. The smoking and drinking came after, the only form of grieving available during wartime.

Warriors could practically hear Mask scolding him, but it was just Sky and Warriors right then. Mask was sleeping, absolutely exhausted after the terror of almost losing his descendant. After hours of watching Twilight fade away while Warriors couldn't do a damned thing to help.

"Let's go," Warriors said. He dropped the cigarette under his foot. He crushed the soft burn with his boot heel. "Make sure you wash up before you go to sleep. Smoke lingers."

Terrible things always did.

Sky didn't argue his words, so Warriors didn't argue when Sky took his arm and led him back inside. The scent trailed behind them. Gray wisps slowly faded to nothing.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part twelve)🌹

Part 11🌹

a/n: the gif says all you need to know.

warnings: death, murder, gruesome details, expected hunger games warnings

All interaction is appreciated!

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The sudden thud of glove-clad hands was the catalyst for your awakening. Though you began questioning if you truly were awake or had been transferred into a nightmare as the mismatched gleaming eyes of Volumnia Gaul bore into your own.

"Go grab your idiotic friend. Now."

Your mind didn't need to be running at full capacity to understand whom she was talking about. You quickly sat up in your desk and stifled a yawn.

"What happened with Sejanus?"

The intimidating woman shifted from her position straight in front of you to the side so the large screen was visible. It was then that you realized the only person here besides you two was Coriolanus, who was also now wide awake. Your eyes focused on the dark screen as they became accustomed to the shadowy figure kneeling beside another.

Oh, Sejanus, what have you gotten yourself into?

"Bread crumbs. I believe sustenance for a fallen comrade on his final journey. A District 2 superstition."

You remember Sejanus describing the funeral traditions from his home district. It was the vivid memory of him begging you to provide him bread crumbs when he was to pass, a plea you were slightly reluctant to accept. Not because of the unfamiliar customs, but rather the uncomfortable realization that there was yet another person you could, were, going to lose.

Your focus was attached to the feed of the boy who you considered a brother, in the middle of a death cage with nothing to defend himself but bread crumbs. Dr. Gaul continued on, addressing both you and Coriolanus.

"I’ll work on finding the Peacekeeper he bribed to get him in, and cut out their tongue. In the meantime, I need someone to get him out right now."

Your attention was stolen by her demand as you connected her earlier statement. She didn't show you the feed to display Sejanus's recklessness, you both were well aware of it. You and Coryo were being debriefed on your newest task: somehow climb into the arena, drag Sejanus out without making a noise, and all while trying not to meet up with Marcus on his journey.

"You should send Peacekeepers in."

The daunting Gamemaker tutted at Coriolanus's suggestion as if it was a personal offense.

"Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit? Felix Ravinstill is fighting for his life in the hospital, Mr. Snow. I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my Games,"

She emphasized her point to both of you as she leaned in.

"Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt."

Both you and Coriolanus were silent at her implication. No gasps of horror at the thought. You looked over to Coryo and his calculating indifferent mask was back in place. You couldn't tell what he was thinking or his position. The arena bombing was a clear indication that the districts have at least a bit of firepower. But if it was to come to a head, there would be no way the Districts could win a war against the Capital, not this soon after the last one.

It didn't truly matter what either of your positions were because it was clear you were going into that arena, no matter what.

"You choose to be friends with this radical."

Most would think that a friendship with Sejanus is nothing but a burden, though you were adamant that it was nothing of the sort. In a city surrounded by Dr. Gaul mindsets or followers, Sejanus was a refreshing breath of air. If you needed to lose your lungs for that air, then so be it. Others need it more.

Coriolanus, however, seemed unconvinced.

"It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill the three of us."

"So don’t let them." Dr. Gaul stated it as if it was the most obvious thing because of course you would choose the other option. The other option being an absolutely brutal and bloody demise.

Especially if Coral got her hands on you.

You had to restrain yourself from banging your head on the desk. You just had to threaten her about her chances if you were in the arena. For both your life and pride, you hoped you wouldn't be eating your words.

"Who knows? You get him out unscathed, I’ll whisper your name in his father’s ear. You still want that Plinth Prize, don’t you?"

Ah, and there is the only reason the youth of the Capital saw any worth in Sejanus. You watched as Coryo shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he avoided your gaze in a calculated manner. You understood the desperation he and his family had for the prize; he didn't need to be ashamed of that. You just hoped that didn't motivate him in his friendship with Sejanus. That a small part of him wants to get your kind-eyed friend out of the grasp of death for something other than money. To save him not as the heir of the Plinth fortune, but rather sweet-hearted Sejanus.

"I’ll freeze the feed for an hour. I estimate that’s all we have until the people notice."

And with that, the ominous presence of Dr. Gaul turned on her heel and away to the shadowy outskirts of the hall. You turned towards Coryo, who seemed to be in varying levels of regret and contemplation. You checked the clock.

3:11 a.m.

Not a second to waste. You got up and stretched your stiff limbs. The motion caught the attention of Coriolanus, who was quick to start protesting.

"Absolutely not. Go hom-go and calm Sejanus's mother if she knows. You aren't going in there."

The blonde was adamant in his statements but then again, he was the one following you out the door to where a vehicle was waiting to pick you both up. He reached for your arm multiple times, but you were quick to dodge and ignored all his calls for you to stop. Just as you reached the car, Coriolanus sped up and stepped in front of you, effectively blocking your entrance.

"Y/N, don't even—"

"No, you 'don't even.' I am not leaving either of you. You spending your energy on trying to stop me will only deprive you of it when you are surrounded by killers. Besides, I think I am the only one who knows how to defend if the situation called for it."

Coryo deflated slightly at your endpoint and the implication, and that was all you needed to gently shove him out of the way and get into the awaiting car. He looked into the area and as you securely strapped yourself in, Coryo could do nothing short of forcefully pulling you out of the car to ensure you wouldn't come. So he swallowed his fears and climbed in next to you, intertwining your hands along the way.

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You swore you could smell the death from outside of the arena. It felt tangible, as though if you put your hand out, death would pull you down into its realm along with the dozens of other children.

Your steps were heavy as they led to the caged entrance of the structure. Your breathing was even, and posture lucid, but inside, you were panicking. Every gruesome memory of the war flashed in front of your eyes. Long-dead bodies envisioned themselves on your path while there was nothing there. The tips of your fingers began curling and tingling, the familiar instincts coming back to you. Just survive. You've done it before. Fast, agile, sharp.

Wails and protests caught your ear as you began ascending the steps.

"No! Please, please no! Not her too!"

Ma Plinth was dressed in her nightgown, no doubt awoken from her sleep to this consuming nightmare. She was held back by her husband as she sobbed. You could tell she was trying to fight back against his hold when she caught your face in the dim lighting. Deep breaths were taken by you to steady yourself from cries of pain. The pain of fear of losing a son. You remember those cries.

You will strength throughout your veins. You refuse to hear those cries of a lost son again.

The woman who had taken you in as her own cried out your name and begged for you to stop. However, all her pleas were drowned out as the gates opened for you and Coriolanus to walk in. Not a second's hesitation was spared. You did not have the privilege of stalling.

The arena was humid, and the air so packed, it put weight upon your shoulders. Either that or the panic began silently packing in. Your steps were soft, barely audible, especially in comparison to Coriolanus. You could tell he was trying his best but there was only so much the tall boy could do. While you were focused on your objective of getting your naive friend out with all three of you in one piece, Coriolanus was too zoned in. So zoned in that he nearly gave away your presence with the mechanical voice that eerily wished one's enjoyment of the "show". Your arm was fierce in pulling him back, enough to get him stumbling into you.

His face was a display of confusion and unchecked offense at your action. In a near inaudible whisper, you reasoned.

"Over the entrance."

Looking back to the small gate, Coriolanus realized his near mistake. He was quick to slide over the metal and turned back to offer his hand to help you along. Once your feet were securely on the ground, you looked over Coryo's shoulder and saw Sejanus in the very same position. The devoted boy hadn't moved a singular inch in all the time it had taken you to rush here.

His knees securely being pinched and pointed by the endless sea of rubble, Sejanus was covered in the moonlight while his solemnness provided its own special kind of gloom. Coriolanus directly accented to Sejanus, in a hasty effort to get out as soon as possible.

Your path was led leftwards as you approached the large pile of rubble still dressed with weapons of murder. You hoped you and Coriolanus would be persuasive enough to get Sejanus out without an attack; however, survival wasn't reached by hope. Your fingers graced over several different types of knives and blades, narrowly missing the pile of still liquid blood. It was right when you chose a curved, small sharp blade that Sejanus spoke. His first words uttered into the silence as the hilt slipped into your hand. Fit so perfectly.

"I thought they’d send my ma."

You finally turned around and met up with Coriolanus's slightly distant position. You went past the anxious blonde as you addressed Sejanus, whiplashed.

"You were willing to waste her life like that?"

You were stunned. Sejanus's mother was the only thing he could consistently wake up for. Was his determination more powerful than his love for her?

"You need to go, the both of you."

"I’d like to. I really would."

You ignored Coryo's admission and focused on the wishful yet foolish stubbornness of Sejanus Plinth.

"Sejanus, we made a promise to get you out. Neither of us is leaving till you are with us."

Coryo met up with your stance, shoulder to shoulder, only a mere feet away from Sejanus and the rotting corpse of Marcus. Even with the close proximity, it was hard to hear the soft whisper.

"Why?"

In contrast to the weighted question, an airy and irritated sigh came from Coryo.

"Because you’re my friend."

The quiet after Coriolanus's apparently obvious reason bothered you to the bone. He was expecting you to answer?

"Are you being serious? You thought I wouldn't be here? That I would just sit by and not use any chance I have to help you? I already lost one brother, Sejanus, I'm not losing another."

The harsh tone of such sentimental words caught Sejanus off guard as he turned around to face the pair of you.

"I have to do this. I had to go where the cameras are." He stands up while Coryo steps forward, slightly irritated.

"You think anyone’s watching this? Gaul cut the feed."

Coriolanus steps closer to Sejanus to emphasize the point as reality began setting in on the latter.

"Tributes kill you in here, she’s just gonna say you died of the flu."

You had to swallow down your anger at the thought of his sacrifice being watered down to a "flu". You moved to step closer to the pair when metallic clanging could be heard. Footsteps that began getting closer. The grip on your blade tightened as you began looking around. You left the negotiation to Coryo while you got ready for a knife straight to the head.

"You need to decide right now. Do you wanna fight these tributes, or fight for them? Because if you wanna make real change, you need to stay alive to do it."

Your back was faced towards the boys as you began slowly distancing yourself from them and towards the dark and ominous tunnel near your group. You tried your best to convince Sejanus so all this preparation for a life and death battle will be for nothing and you will all be out in a blink of an eye.

"Sej, please. You are the only one who can make a difference. Don't throw it all away. One life can make a difference but not if you let it be manipulated to fit the Capital's picture."

You knew just from his frustrated sigh that he was starting to think his actions over and getting convinced.

"How can I make any change from out there?"

"You’re rich. Smart. You care."

You added onto his list to what you thought would be the most important point to Sejanus.

"And you aren't alone."

Coryo may not be for uprooting the entire social complex of Panem but that's why you didn't include him. Even if he isn't on board, Sejanus has you.

Coryo looked up from his focus on the brown-eyed boy and noticed the now decent distance between you and the boys. He noticed your body language, intense focus on the source of the now louder metal clanging and footsteps. His gaze was caught by your blade shining from a beam of moonlight and connected the pieces together.

"Y/N. Come back."

Sejanus followed his eyes and noticed the same picture playing out and felt his heart rate picking up. Coriolanus needed to get Sejanus out now so he can get you out.

"We’re dead if we don’t leave right now, Sejanus. Come with us. Spend your father’s money, do some real good."

His anxious blue eyes flickered back to your still turned body. "Or just be another dead body in Gaul’s war."

Sejanus took note of how your body began tensing and knees bending. Something was happening. Someone was coming.

Coryo began picking up pace with words while his brown-haired friend followed the pattern with his breathing. "Please. Trust me. Trust us."

Coriolanus placed his hands on Sejanus's shoulder to make him focus. To make him choose right. Just as the conflicted boy began stuttering out an answer, the other inhabitants of the arena forced action.

Out of the shadowed tunnel that you were focused on did Bobbin, Juno Phipps's tribute from District 8, come running out. He was shouting at the top of his lungs as he targeted the two boys standing in the middle. His shouts got the attention of Sejanus and Coriolanus running.

Bobbin must have been too focused on the clear position of the two mentors that he missed your much closer body. He was fast, much faster than Sejanus or Coryo, much to your horror. Bobbin ran straight past you and was making ground on the two closest people in your life.

Then you heard the tumble and screams of pain from Sejanus and the panicked ones to get the former up by Coryo. You felt helpless as you couldn't make it to the District boy before he reached them. That is until the blade in your hand felt tangible again.

You weren't a great aim but you didn't have much of a choice. Even if it didn't hit Bobbin, it might make him notice you and hopefully distract enough to give your friends enough time. A breath and a steady arm was all you got as you aimed at the upper part of his left leg.

Like stated prior, you didn't have wondrous aim but that doesn't mean you were hopeless. The target of his upper left leg was missed in favor of a slice on his upper right shoulder. It didn't impair the already disadvantaged boy, but it did make him stop and notice you. Good. Enough time for them to escape.

You stood in the open of the destroyed arena, now defenseless. Back during the war, you would be able to slip out of any confrontational instances and fight without any weapon if needed. But being trapped in the Hunger Games arena is not the way you wanted to test if your skills were still there after 10 years.

You turned your head back to see how close you were to the pile of weapons, which fortunately, wasn't very far. Unfortunately, that one second was enough for Bobbin to start running and get too close for your comfort within such a short period of time. You followed his lead and started running away from him and to the weapons. You didn't have timw to be picky or really notice what you chose, so you grabbed the closest thing to you, which happened to be a curved and frankly, beautiful sword.

Sword in hand, you climbed to the top of the rubble pile. It was unsteady, horrible for any opponent. It wouldn't be easy to fight for you either but you had steadier footing than Bobbin and experience. You survived off of the weaknesses of your opponents.

As expected, the boy from Eight struggled to get up to your level. You just needed to buy enough time for Coriolanus and Sejanus and you believed you did when you heard the gates open. Though the desperate swing of Bobbin's machaete reminded you that you also wanted to get out of here alive. You dodged the attack and attempted a strike at his chest, which he deflected.

You didn't plan on killing him, nothing of the sort, rather just hurting him enough so you could get out. Though, you didn't seem to think ahead about going hand to hand combat with an machete-wielding tribute from Eight.

You moved backward in a counter-clockwise motion while fighting against Bobbin's harsh attacks. With each blow, the more the past muscle memory started kicking back in. Your arms started moving on their own, even getting a few slices on his arm and left leg. Your eyes moved from the weapon only inches from your face to the boy's feet. He was getting tired.

His feet began dragging across the uneven rubble. While you were jumping from stone to stone and cognizant of the terrain, Bobbin looked one hit away from going down. So that's exactly what you planned.

As soon as you realized a break in his fighting position, you went for his upper thigh.

"Y/N!"

The shriek from Coriolanus caused the strike to be far weaker than intended and missed the target nearly entirely. You risked a look at the messy and panting teen who shouldn't be here. However, your attention on his sudden appearance was short as yet another swing was sent your way, mere centimeters from your still healing neck. While you might not have been trying to kill Bobbin, he certainly was trying to eliminate you.

Panic burned through your veins as you realized that all this noise and Coryo's shouting of your name likely alerted the other tributes. You needed to get out and get out now.

You began picking up your pace and running around the now shaking piled stone. Bobbin was already tired, you just needed him a bit more exhausted. He kept coming after you like a predator after prey.

His footsteps began slipping but were close to you when you stopped suddenly. You curled your upper body forward but had your arms straight behind you, sword sharp and ready. The screams of the other teen were more than enough to alert you that your plan worked.

You turned around to see Bobbin's right thigh stabbed straight through with your silver sword, now crimson. You watched as the tears welled in his eyes as he tried to remove the weapon, to no success.

"I'm so sorry, Bobbin."

You felt tears rush in your own eyes. You never wanted to hurt anyone again. You never wanted to be this person again. Was living as a killer better than dying?

You knew you had to live with what you have done and started running down the pile and toward Coriolanus, who seemed shocked at the suffering boy. Though relief overtook his features once you began sprinting towards him. The selfish part of your brain began defending your actions.

'You are a hero. If you didn't do that, Coryo would be dead." You shook the thought from your brain. You could deal with morals once you were out of harm's way.

Such an unfortunate thing that harm has such a large reach.

Once you became close enough to see the blue in Coryo's eyes and the relief swimming in them, the world fell.

Well, Coriolanus's world fell.

Silence was never a word one would use with Coral, but she would endure if she was determined enough. And determined she was as she tackled you to the ground.

You told her to thank her lucky stars you weren't in the arena, and she begged those stars to bring you to her. Oh, and did they provide.

Once your eyes cleared from the rubble and attack, you felt the weight of Coral hover over you as she smirked a bloodthirsty smile.

"Welcome to the Hunger Games, Princess."

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Not a second did Coral spare as she grabbed your sore throat and slammed your head across the crumbled ground. Again. And again.

Coral's yellow teeth glimmered in the shining moonlight as she watched the ground crack along with your head. Mizzen, Tanner, and Treech were watching the District Four girl until Coriolanus grabbed a metal bar, seeing only red and Coral's smirking face.

Said face noticed the violent intent within Coriolanus's hardened eyes and barked out orders to her goons to stop him. The three male tributes got their weapons ready to fend off the fuming Capitol mentor.

"Get ready, gorgeous, I'm gonna hang her up for all to see. How pathetic you all are."

Coriolanus could smell the morbid glee radiating off of Coral as her slams got harsher. Your vision began swirling and flickering, weakly trying to claw your way out of her grasp. Your instinct was to panic and squirm, but your experience taught you better. You let your eyes close, with a constant voice reminding you not to let the darkness and exhaustion overtake you. Your limbs fell limp and breathing shallowed.

Coral noticed this after a few more hits with no resistance, reaction, or anything. The redhead was stunned for a few moments. Even a bit disappointed.

"She threatened me and she this weak? No wonder you like her, gorgeous, easy to use and a pretty face."

Coriolanus knew he was being baited but he didn't care. How could he stand still for a second longer? He wasn't going to break the promise. The nightmare isn't going to become reality.

Coriolanus started swinging his metal bar with no real strategy. He swung in both directions as Mizzen and Tanner tried to stop him while Treech retaliated with his axe, but taming a wild animal is hard. Taming a furious and spiraling Coriolanus Snow is impossible.

While the four were in the midst of the battle, Coral got off of you and started dragging you to the pile of rubble. She either forgot or thought he was already dead, but she dragged your body through the rubble right next to Bobbin. He wasn't moving much but you could hear his labored breathing and struggle to get up.

You heard her move away from your still unconscious appearance to the other side of the rubble pile. You took this chance to feel around for any sort of rock or weapon. You moved your right hand around in a swift motion and were fortunate in finding a piece of a broken metal beam which was broken in a way that it was sharp as a knife. Though, the weapon was found in a pile of warm and thick blood.

Your mind raced as you knew your plan of attack had to be sped up as no doubt Coral would notice the bloody hand. Your eyes were still shut closed so you had no layout of the area around you spare from the shaky memories of your fight with Bobbin. Your ears were ringing with the slamming of metal on metal. You heard the grunts and shouts of pain of the four fighting teenagers, but you couldn't tell who was the one in pain. The thought of it being Coriolanus nearly ruined your entire plan as you were more than ready to attack any of the fitter boys.

The sound of their squabble was drowned out by the footsteps of Coral and the blood pounding in your ears. You hid your makeshift dagger beneath your arm and palm, but ready to pull it out at any moment.

"What do you think, princess? How long is it going to be till they see their Capitol darling, the same level as us district scum, huh?"

Her grime-covered hands grabbed your wrist harshly and you had no time to waste. As her hand covered your right wrist, where your blade laid, you turned it over and stabbed her arm. The girl shrieked out of pain and you took that time to jump up from the rubble and kick her down, effectively reversing your position. Just like in the van.

"District four doesn't have possums, huh?"

You didn't know how much time you would have if you ran, but you knew the window was short. There was a considerable chance that Coral would catch up to you. Though if you stayed, you knew it wouldn't be like Bobbin. One of you was going to die.

You took off, blade yet again in hand, and ran to the tunnel that led to the gates. A tunnel blocked by the now side-tracked boys.

"Coryo, run!"

The amount of shock this poor boy's body went through in such a short amount of time. He heard the words, saw you run so close to him, but he couldn't get his body to move. Every time he tried to help in this arena, you only got hurt.

As you reached the group of boys, Mizzen swung at you, but you countered with a stab of your own at his shoulder. You quickly spun out of the way of Treech's strike and cut his cheek. Tanner was an easy kick to the ribcage and push backward.

When you turned back, you saw Coral running full force toward you, trident ready. You turned halfway to push Coryo into running.

"CORYO, GO!"

You wanted to run with him, but you had one final step in your plan. Mizzen got ready to pounce on you when you mustered all your waning force and pushed him backward. Straight into Coral's trident.

The crimson blood splattered straight onto your similarly shaded uniform and face. The young boy from District Four started sputtering like the fish he likely caught back home.

Likewise, Coral was also covered in her District partner's blood, but the blood in her eyes was anger that only you seemed to conjure.

"WHAT DID YOU DO? MIZZEN!"

You knew you should have been focusing on the cold body you created, but you could only focus on the girl holding it.

Coral looked so young. So lost. She knew he had to die for her to win, but that knowledge didn't prepare her for reality. That her own weapon was the last thing he felt. Her stab in his back.

Treech went to help Coral up and retrieve her weapon. The weapon firmly set inside Mizzen's fresh corpse. On the other hand, Coral's screams were more than enough of an order for Tanner to follow. The scarred boy turned on you and Coriolanus, who couldn't seem to listen to your very clear orders.

The boy from Ten was filled with anger. Beyond fuming. The fundamental idea of the Hunger Games was death for the Capital by District hands. But even in the cruel morbid freedom, Capital hands couldn't shy away from the murder of anyone who threatened Capital peace and safety.

Tanner had spent the last few days hearing non-stop about Coral's dreams of torture for you, always spacing out as he never believed the chance possible. But here it stood, right in front of him.

Tanner raised his sickle and managed a hit on the wall behind your head as you ducked within a second of impact. When you raised your head again, it was quickly tucked back under due to the sound of bones being absolutely crushed.

Coriolanus was sick of you saving him and narrowly avoiding death. So he did the ever rational thing and bludgeoned the other teen's ribs until he plummeted to the ground.

Tanner out of the fight, Mizzen dead, and the other two frozen at the sight of yet another of their group beaten by Capital brats, you and Coriolanus finally had the chance for escape. The chance quickly taken by the blonde as he grabbed your hand and started sprinting forward.

He made it a good three feet before his vision plunged. Not because of any physical harm on his part besides the blood-curdling scream shredding your throat, cutting his ears. He turned around, still holding your hand, as your own crushed his in anguish.

Hovering over your now crumpled body against the wall, was Bobbin. Poor little Bobbin, whose breath was labored and wheezing. Face pale and bruised. The boy looked freshly risen from the grave just to drag you in his place.

He limped and leaned to one side due to the still bleeding wound on his thigh. Bobbin looked ready to give out at any motion, but he was satisfied. A look Coriolanus couldn't understand until he noticed the odd way your neck began hanging.

Coryo dropped to his knees, right in front of Bobbin's machete. All the district boy had to do was lift a few inches to end the heir of Snow's life. But like Coral, who now stood behind him, Bobbin wanted the youth of the Capital to suffer the same fate they did: a slow massacre of those dearest. Equality of death.

Coriolanus's pale hands grabbed the side of your neck and came away flooded with ruby liquid. You screamed with every ounce of pressure on your opened wounds. Bobbin's blade made no new cuts, just one large enough to reopen your healing cuts from the zoo attack.

Your eyes were in a competition with your veins to see which could produce more liquid. Tears or blood? Coriolanus tried to decipher which one as he took off your jacket and ripped the sleeve off to tie around your neck. He tied it tightly, but he could only do so much without choking you.

The boy kept muttering sweet nothings while you could only cry out. You didn't feel like yourself in that moment. You could see your body from a third-person point of view.

You choking on blood. Wails carrying through the entire arena.

This was it.

Your arms were weak along with the rest of your body, but you willed them to move. You snaked your hand to your upper chest, feeling around. New tears began to spring free, not out of physical pain but emotional.

Then you felt it. The rings.

As Coriolanus did all he could to keep you alive, you clung to all your will onto the three metal pieces. You felt the darkness getting stronger as you smiled.

At least you will see mom soon. And Otto. Oh, how you've missed Otto.

"Y/N? Y/N! STAY AWAKE!"

The only response heard was not from your frail form, but the deranged cackle of Bobbin, who was a corpse with a fringe of life clinging to him. Soon enough, Coral began joining in. She may not have gotten to make her tortuous dream into reality with you, but she still had pretty boy Coryo. Oh, how his little songbird would react to seeing her mentor bloody and gutted.

The two jeering tributes were too lost in their glee that they didn't realize Coriolanus still had the metal bar. The only one who noticed was Treech, who was down, tending to Tanner. Though the district seven boy was far too late to warn them effectively.

Within a blink, the laughter became screams. The metal repeatedly slamming into Bobbin's face was nauseating. The noises of bodily harm were different than how it was with Tanner.

Bobbin's organs and muscles were being bludgeoned too, not just bone. By the time Coriolanus got past the red caused by his rage, his eyes were covered by the red of his victim's blood.

His blows went straight through Bobbin's skull, splitting it. His eyes were dislocated, and any remnants of Bobbin's features were mush.

Coriolanus's heavy breathing filled the copper-secnted air of the arena entrance tunnel. The mentor looked up from the bloodied body in horror at his actions, reality not yet fully sinking in. When his eyes connected to Coral's, reality crashed hard.

One of the most feared tributes in the entire arena, who already had taken out multiple tributes, was petrified.

He blankly stared back before your whimpers were heard again. Unsure when Coral would snap out of her frozen horror, Coryo picked you up bridal style. Looking down, he noticed your face was much paler. Even paler than it was at the zoo.

You've lost so much blood that he didn't know where your pile ended and Bobbin's began. Coriolanus screamed with all his power for the Peacekeepers to open the gates.

Your body, as light as it was with the loss of blood, slowed the tall boy's stride enough for Coral and Treech to be at his heels.

"Open the gate! Open the gate!"

Coral had her trident in hand, still stained with Mizzen's blood. By just a fraction of a second, she missed her target, and the Capitol mentors safely made it to the outside world.

"Watch those screens, gorgeous. ‘Cause I may have missed you and the princess tonight, but your songbird’s next on my list."

Coriolanus watched as Coral and her pack walked back into the shattered arena. Back to Lucy Gray. She couldn't lose now. She can't. Not after everything you've all been through.

You began shivering in Coryo's grasp, which pushed all thought of the singer's victory or survival out of the boy's mind. Even as your strength wilted away, you clung onto the rings. More specifically, his ring.

Coriolanus laid you down as he screamed for the peacekeepers. He didn't know what, if anything, would help you, but he was desperate. On his knees beside you. The nightmare all over again.

The moon shone down brightly at the scene of your blood spurting, and Coriolanus grabbed any surface or material to stop it.

"Y/N?! NO, NO, Y/N!"

Sejanus jumped out of his mother's tight embrace to kneel beside you as you began sputtering out dark patches of blood. Sejanus never meant this. He never meant for you or Coryo to come in with him. He never meant to kneel beside yet another friend turned corpse.

The boy reached out to brush hair sticking to your face from the sweat and blood, some of which wasn't yours. Sejanus's hand was swatted away with such ferocity, he felt as if he was swiped at by a lion. The glare he was met with was so fierce it would challenge even the toughest of the former animals.

"Don't you touch her."

"I’m… I’m sorry. Coryo, I’m so sorry."

He looked back at your fading eyes. It wasn't supposed to be you. Never supposed to be you.

"I’m so sorry. For all of it."

Coriolanus saw the heartbreak behind those glassy brown eyes. Coryo knew he wasn't the only one losing you. Sejanus would be losing a sister. But it's not the same. No pain is ever the same as losing the love—

"Mr. Snow."

A stern-looking Peacekeeper appeared, a stretcher beside her. Over the shoulder, Coriolanus noticed the medical vehicle you would likely be transferred in. He moved out of the way immediately. The chance of saving your life was getting slimmer by the second.

Snow followed their accelerated speed to the vehicle. All pleas from Sejanus, the wails of Mrs. Plinth, and approval by Starbo Plinth were ignored as all he could focus on was you.

Your small puffs of air replacing your usual healthy steady breaths. Your beautiful skin cut and jagged with blood. The beauty of your eyes now wistful as you stare up into nothingness.

Coriolanus was so focused on your battered body that he didn't realize the vehicle wasn't sending you to the hospital. When injured to the brink of death, what better place than the torture laboratory of Volumnia Gaul?

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@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

[tumblingdownthefoxden]

Asha

My current design for my Asha

A little Lady with a big heart and is about to go on the ride of a lifetime

Qualms of her Occupation

- Asha is 19 years old and the current assistant of King Magnifico. She has worked as an assistant for 3 years and has a passion for helping others

- Though she enjoys helping those around her, the citizens of Rosas can be… needy. Rumor has it that the assistant and their family have a guaranteed chance of having their wish granted, but the assistant could have the King grant the wishes of citizens and friends. And the people often have multiple wishes after their deepest one. So, Asha is often bombarded by people being pseudo-friendly and asking Asha to ask the King to grant their Wishes next or grant their other wishes.

- Asha, being a people pleaser at the moment, will usually write down their names and extra wishes while trying to politely leave the crowd (they won’t make it easy). Even when she actually says no, they won’t take it for answer. Best case scenario when she says no, ask her again the next day. Worst case scenario, a stalking situation.

- To avoid anymore crowds, she wears a cloak and a mask to hide as she goes to the castle. Simon and Gabo will also walk her to the castle if they can, but the strategy became harder to use as citizens soon recognized her disguise and her friends and continued to swarm her. Magnifico gave her a variety of different cloaks and masks to use and even offered his guardian lynx, Charo, to help her go home. She declined the lynx because it seemed extreme and felt bad needing his help.

- The irony of it all is that her wish hadn't been granted since she gave it to Magnifico. She enjoys her life and only had two wishes. To draw motion pictures like her father and for people to treat her a normal person and actually treat her a neighbor as opposed to a cheat code for abundance. The second wish was written down so she wouldn't forget it before her 18th birthday and refers back to that writing whenever she has dealt with people and is slightly impatient for it be granted.

Personality Traits

> Kind and passionate

> Strategic and honest

> Hard-working and balanced

> Hopeful but naïve

> Helpful but unconfrontational

Hobbies

- She loves drawing and has walked to many high points in the kingdom to sketch or paint the landscape. She is working to create “moving pictures” like her father did.

- Asha enjoys reading about astrology and high fantasy. She will invite her friends to read with her in the forest whenever they have time.

Background

• Asha lives in the forest and helps her mother, Sakura, grow food, cook, do laundry and other manual tasks for the house.

• Sakira is a seamstress that will go into the market to sell handmade garments and offer to repair or customize a client's garments.

• Sakira likes to knit as a hobby.

• Her father, Tomás, was a royal philosopher and astronomer for the Monarchs. He would take his family to the wishing tree at the coast and tell them about his the constellations and his philosophies. Asha would pay the most attention to his lectures.

• Tomás gave away his wish to become the greatest philosopher but felt a void in his soul since then. He would spend his time waiting by drawing, and later built a passion for art and rediscovered the old magic of "motion pictures". He would teach Asha the same magic and most importantly, he taught her how to commit to building a skill you are passionate about even when it was difficult and frustrating.

• He died when Asha was 12 to a pre-existing heart condition. The Monarchs sent their condolences and offered to pay for the funeral expenses.

• Sabino was a well renowned musician when he was younger.

• Sabino once broke his mandolin after whacking one of Asha's stalkers over the head with it. He had it repaired and reinforced to take the force.

• Asha was the third assistant to be hired by the King and was his assistant for the longest time.

• She had an "unpleasant" encounter with an ex-assistant that made her reconsider letting Charo guard her.

• The citizens of Rosas are puzzled by Asha's lack of desires for the King to grant and her persistence to develope a skill rather than wish to become a professional.

• Ever since becoming an assistant, Asha's conversation with citizens have been shallow. She would talk about an exciting view of the kingdom and try to show it with a painting just to be cut off with "yeah, yeah, fun but not important. Anyway can tell the King if he can grant me a(n) *insert extra wish here*".

• In this AU, how many wishes are granted can be inconsistent. Sometimes, only 1 wish will be granted in a month. Sometimes, 2 will be granted in a week. Sometimes 3 will be granted in a month. Sometimes, 4 will be granted in a night. It's hard to keep track. What is consistent is that there is a Wish taking ceremony once a month.

• Wishes are only granted at night to keep them a surprise and to lower public anticipation. When a wish is granted, It is transformed into a large, yellow, plasma moth. Magnifico will open the roof of his tower to let them return to the og wisher.

• In each wish taking ceremony, whomever has given up a wish is tracked by Dario. Once you give up a wish, you are not allowed to give up another one until the next year. Dario is employed to be sure of this.

Little quirks ✨

° She will stroke her hair whenever she is nervous.

° Asha is quite strong for her age and size. She helps with the manual labor of her home and has carried large books, bundles of sticks, bags of rocks, and other heavy supplies for the King’s work. *This will come into play later.

° Her favorite colors are purple, orange and gold.

° Asha occasionally draws Valentino as a full grown billy fighting giant hawks and shows him as a form of encouragement (he's afraid of most birds).

@annymation @oh-shtars @chillwildwave @signed-sapphire @uva124 Ayo, this was fun to write

[mollysunder]

Zaunite Funeral Tradition HCs

Since space is limited in Zaun I don't see Zaunites focusing their energy on finding and building conventional graveyards. I see Zaunites more focused on creating their dead to save space but weaving cultural touchstones to prevent it from being a purely pragmatic endeavor. They don't do big funeral pyres because air quality is already terrible and it alienates a good section of the populace with preexisting lung conditions. The cremation process is probably small and private, like prepping the body. Any ceremony would probably focus on what to do with the ashes, so Zaunites could:

1. Janna's Blessing

Release the ashes into a shared air shaft to release the ashes into the air in a ceremony that incorporates Janna's blessing of strong cleansing winds to give flight to their souls into the afterlife. Richer Zaunites can afford to travel higher up Zaun and even arrange it by the seashore, while poorer Zaunites, especially those in the Sump, keep track of reliable exhaust fans that have the most direct route to the surface for their loved ones ashes (soul) to reach. And yes, I did get inspiration from Vent/Barbados' story quest from Genshin Inpact for this one.

2. Funeral March to the Fault Lines

Zaunites convert the ashes of the deseased into stone and do a funeral march to place the stone inside unstable faults in the Fissures which would express the strength and stability Zaunites give one another in life and death. Zaunites might take to building up specific sections of the faults for larger families. It could also offer the grounding effect of recognizing the solidarity of Zaunites is what made a formally arduous trek into something safer and that less skilled family members can participate in.

3. Ashes Upon the Flesh

My favorite hc is that those closest to the one who past uses the ashes of the deceased to receive funeral tattoos. The funeral itself is largely a party for the guests but the main event is when the tattoos are complete and are showcased to funeral members as the recievers give a eulogy to the deceased.

The tattoo receiver(s) are mostly secluded from the party as they receive the tattoos, the seclusion is meant to be nearly meditative as the tattooed mourner is meant to reflect in the deceased as they receive a design meant to represent the one who passed.

The length of the funeral is dependent on how long the tattoo takes. The bigger and more elaborate the tattoo the bigger and longer the funeral party is (a great way to show off some prestige in the community). I thought it could be an interesting way to further integrate Zaun's art into its culture.

I imagine that not all of the funeral ink would need to be used for every funeral, maybe the deceased never named a kin to receive their body onto their own. So leftover ink is probably added to family preservation jars thay can be used for other related ceremonies like achievements and marriages. Maybe they could later be used to paint family murals.

Funeral Masks

Most Zaunites don't wear masks on a casual basis, but in respect for the deceased so they avoid inhaling their remains Zaunites dawn their masks. Most of the masks are hand-me-downs that aren't well filtered enough for the gasses pervasive in Zaun today, but they get the job done blocking particulate matter like ash. Overtime these gas masks became stylized with the mementos and trinkets those who passed sewn like patchwork over the fabric. Some Zaunites have layered masks of passed down family jewelry dangling off their masks. Some Zaunites take the time to completely redesign and retrofit a custom mask for themselves, a practice more popular to Zaun's new money like the chembarons.

[bard-llama]

WiP Game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPS. anyone who you think might enjoy this.

tagged by @gasmeros! Thank you for the tag!

Warning in advance - this will be LONG! I physically cannot tag as many people as there are wips - but if you're interested, please do it!

Setting: OG Cartoon

Pre-Canon

Air Nomad Avatar Zuko

Early War AU (The First Reaction to Truth is Hatred)

Multi-Bending Zuko

Zuko's Odyssey

Unyielding

Crew Bonding: First time they see Zuko breathe fire when frustrated (I'll keep my silence, though it burns my tongue)

Aang in the Iceberg: Dreams

Airbender/Firebender Dual Wielder Zuko

June and Zuko walk into a bar

Our Love Become a Funeral Pyre

Ozai is not a people person

Zuko becomes Fire Lord at 13 AU

Earthbender Zuko

Haunted Toy

Instinctive Bending

Gyatso adopting Aang

Crooked World

Pirate Zuko (Fire, Water, and Government (Know Nothing of Mercy))

Another dream

Author Zuko: The Truth About the Air Army

Artist!Zuko: Pre-Canon

Aang Haunting Pre-Canon Zuko

Monk Tashi’s Journal

Friend of the Sex Workers

Gyatso/Roku

Season 1

Spirits Made Them Do It series

Two Lovers, Forbidden From One Another series

Soulmate Dreamsharing AU (Once Upon a Dream)

Damned by a Look

Baby AU

Helping Hands

Time Travel Zuko (A Second Chance at Family)

Agni's Little Flame

Storyteller Zuko (Those Who Tell Stories Rule the World)

Zuko stops chasing Aang, so Aang chases Zuko (Zhao’s Retribution)

Viva la Resistance

Bed of Leaves

De-aged Zuko

“I’m in love with your voice.”

Working Together/Mission Fic

Toph Joins S1

Gyatso Runs Away With Aang

Self-Harming Zuko

Animal Transformation: Zuko is a finch-hawk

Time Travel Zuko 2: Electric Boogaloo

Soulmate Potential

Bad (?) Reputation

Silence

Time Loop/Loop Zoop

Aang being worthy of power

“Come with me.”

Dreams/Nightmares (Freudian Nightmares)

Dreamsharing, but it’s all sex

Blue Spirit puts out fires

Genderfuckery: Genderfluid Aang

Genderfuckery: Puberty Blockers/The Avatar Has Tits

Grappling turned Frotting

Season 2

Ba Sing Se Boyfriends series

Seduction of the Innocent series

Earth and Air (sequel to Fire and Water)

Accidental Shaman Zuko series

Healing Fire

(Going) Down and Out in Ba Sing Se

The Fire Lord and The Avatar

Azula and her brother

Aang in the Iceberg: Angst Coma Time Travel

Demonic/Ghostly Possession (Blue Spirit Tagalong)

Spontaneous Combustion

Gay Bar

Aang Approaching Zuko Morning After

Pampering Zuko (Rose Petals and Candlelight)

Truth Serum

Body Swap

Ozai finds out Zuko joined the Avatar

Continuation of Wan Shi Tong's Uninvited Guests

Identity Porn

Nerd Lords

Fight Club

Southern Water Tribe – why are there so many more men than women?

Drugged Zuko Rescue

To Choose One’s Own Destiny

Joo Dee

Masking (Masked Affection)

Gaang in Ba Sing Se with Aang trying to befriend Zuko without telling them who ‘Li’ is

Fuck for-profit healthcare (How Zuko Became a Radical Socialist)

How tf is Li dating the Avatar? A teashop customer perspective

Jasmine Dragon Gift Shop AKA Li the Glassblower

Fantasies

Iroh Ships It

All Roads Lead to Ba Sing Se

Season 3

Justice, Served Cold with a Side of Vengeance series

Hope for the Future

Dragon Mama Zuko

High Priest of the Dragons

Zuko adapts other bending techniques

Fire Control

Following the Rules (The Consequences of Breaking The Rules)

Nightmares

Katara hating on Zuko

Punishment

Rope Burns

Trusted with Weapon

Custard Pie/Cheering Up on a Bad Day/Pining

Zuko Asks Forgiveness Through Action (Actions Speak Louder Than Words)

Aggressive Zuko (I'm Your Fire, Your Desire)

Shirtless Sparring

Early S3 AU

Fluffy Zuko/Aang

Zuko blows Aang while Katara watches

Choosing Nonviolence: Aang sees Zuko’s Scars

Choosing Nonviolence: What Is Forgiveness?

Flower Language

Gifts

Katara POV Zuko tortured by Fire Lord

Zukaang Western Air Temple (Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You)

Sexytimes – Voyeurism

Gossip

Zutaraang

Dad Convo

Something to Live For

Keeping the Avatar Alive

Zutaraang Lap Sex

Hidden Communities

Blue Spirit Reveal

Balance/“. . . sorry, I talked too much” “No no no not at all. Keep talking”

Attacking a surrendered opponent

Dream Sharing - Mid-S3: Zuko is back in the palace with everything he ever wanted, but his nightmares are worse than ever. Meanwhile, the Gaang end up helping this kid in the Spirit World or something and have no idea it’s Zuko.

Dark Water Spirit Curse

Depression and Executive Dysfunction (Cut My Heart Into Pieces (but it's still yours))

Artist!Zuko: Western Air Temple Discovery

Katara Jealous/Mad about Clingy Aang with Zuko

Aang with a cunt: Cunnilingus

Aang with a cunt: Aang hiding how aroused training with Zuko makes him

Touch Starved Zuko

Honor

Early S3 Aang Pining

De-aged Aang and Zuko both

Underwater Blow Job

The Fire Nation’s Flaws Revealed

Altruistic Help

Zuko’s hair

Post-Canon

Imprisoned DoBS!Zuko becomes Fire Lord and has an awkward conversation (Thrice Cursed, Once Broken)

Prosecution of War Crimes (Action, Inaction, and Consequences)

All the Politics (A Seat at the Table)

A Royal Heir

Zuko collects strays

Sibling Rulers

PAIN (The Long Road to Recovery)

Wearing Zuko’s clothes (What’s Yours is Mine)

Relationship Reveal: Post-Canon to the FN Court

Gaang Established Routines – Domestic Fluff fill

The Tournament of Kingship

Airbender Blow Jobs

Everyone wants Zuko (Reading Lips)

“My heart feels like it’s dancing when I look at you.”

Kuei & Zuko Arranged Marriage (To Weave a Tangled Web)

Gaang Marriage (Commitment to Balance)

Zuko navigating 10 (billion) relationships'

Treasure (sequel to Pearl)

First Kiss/First Time

Kanna

Shaking it up down South

Getting Zuko to Sleep

PWP Genderbent Aang picks up Zuko without Zuko knowing

Blue Spirit x Avatar Aang

Toph and Zuko’s Life-Changing Field Trip

Crossdressing Gaang

“I can’t stop thinking about you. When I wake up, when I’m about to fall asleep…”

Aang loves his friends

Katara and Aang decide to pursue Zuko

Everyone is in love with Zuko: He catches a clue

I Still Dream About You (Are You Lonely For Me Too?)

Sparring for who gets to take Aang

Jeong Jeong

Southern Water Tribe Mixed Children

Brother

Toph/Zuko Political Marriage (An Arrangement for World Peace)

Toph/Zuko S3 Hookup (Aged Up)

Author Zuko: Blue Spirit/Avatar Aang

Author Zuko: Zuko writes about the Fire Lord and Avatar’s Bond Thru Time

The Southern Waterbending Line

Post-canon Iroh and Zuko

Jet Redemption

Zuko is not in touch with his emotions

Consolidating Power: Zuko vs the Dragon of the West (The Power Behind the Throne)

Post-Canon Hanahaki AU

Cultural Differences/Fuck “Aang is so innocent and pure”

Touch Me Please

Marking

Facefucking

Destined to Love You/You’re the One I’ve Been Searching For

Sauna

Shaving/Aang serves as Zuko’s hands

Zutaraang Double Penetration

Femslash Zukaang

Post-Canon Horny Aang/Trying not to get caught

Voyeurism/Eyes on You

Desirable

Massage/Rimming

Zutaraang Pining

Inappropriate Use of Bending

Aang as the Sun: Zuko’s Astronomy Poetry

Zuko Ass Worship

Thigh Riding

North Pole Huddling for Warmth

5 Love Languages

Fuckbuddies while Pining for More

Weak to Aang

Katara and Mai Conspire

Thigh Fucking

Mastery (Post-Canon)

Aang Dances with Disguised Zuko in Front of Everyone (Veiled Desire)

Setting: Netflix ATLA

Pre-Canon

Avatar Fam Adopts Zuko (Family is a Title that is Earned)

NATLA Zue Arranged Marriage

Zuko’s Notebook

Season 1

Zuko’s Notebook/Aang wondering about Zuko (So Familiar, Yet So Unknown)

Silk

NATLA Crew Mutiny and Aftermath (Shifting Tides)

“Avatar Who? I’m just an Airbender”

NATLA Spirit World Developing Friendship (Seeking the Shards of a Shattered Soul)

JFC that's 220 WiPs.... and those are just the ones I'll admit to 😅

Also, I have a lot more post-canon WiPs than I ever realized! I always kinda figured I mostly did during-canon AUs - which like, I do, obviously, because there's 116 of those set during the OG canon - but still! 71 was a lot more post-canon fics than I was expecting!

[livefromcastledracula]

If I was doing a adaptation of Carmilla that casts her in a more sympathetic light one thing I would change is that she's actually less discriminative on who she targets the feed on, not just targeting other young women.

Unless it's with someone she's aready particularly intimate with, her feeding does not actually have a sexual component to it. She's a lesbian who also just happens to be a vampire, not a "lesbian vampire" so to speak.

Probably give her more standards too. She tries not to feed on children and at least makes the effort not to kill the people she's feeding on. But it can be hard to control oneself when feeding and even if the person survives it can fuck up a person's immune system in the long term, so…

She does seem to be quite amoral in the novella when it regards her prey outside her fixation. Baron Vordenburg puts it as "proceeding directly to the target, overwhelming with violence and exhausting at a single feast" so if that's at all accurate, I'm guessing the peasant girls' encounters with Carmilla are less a surreal dreamlike visitation than a horrifying and fatal encounter with a cryptid monster cat or nightmare ghost ripping their throat out in their sleep.

The funeral procession scene makes her seem somewhere between indifferent to their fates and masking guilt as indifference (in her rather violent protestations against the funeral) although, as always with Carmilla, there's ambiguity, because it may be that the Christian funeral hymns and customs are causing her literal psychic damage because VAMPIRE.

However you slice it, though, she's killed a jawdropping number of young women, so I can see why you'd address that in a sympathetic adaptation (like the web series did)

[mariposa666haruka]

The first smut I am uploading wooow

Pairing: Top!Vincent Phantomhive x Bottom!Undertaker

It is vanilla but lots of teasing and dirty talk haha

I actually wrote this for a darling friend of mine. Hehe

The howling of the wind was not the only thing that could be heard at the famous funeral parlor of London. One would assume it was another mourning family who had just lost a beloved of theirs and was making preparations to hold an appropriate funeral. But the sign on the door read "Closed" so there possibly couldn't be a customer inside. Knowing the owner, many could have said that there was a torture session going inside,

And not the owner actually crying..Why would the always so joyful Undertaker possibly cry for? He always made a point that he was quite carefree.

Not a single soul knew that he was in the woe of love; bottles already emptied of liquor lied on the cold stone floor and crys soon turned to sniffs, although tears went on flowing down his green iris eyes and as if they were hot burning lava he kept wiping them away with his long black sleeves.

"How unfortunate that the laughter....has disappeared" Weirdly enough his voice was not stained with the misery lingering in his eyes. He knew it was already time for him to pick himself up and put his mask back on, but his not-beating heart still ached, making him allow his old soul a longer time of living his sadness.

Grabbing his favorite buddy, the skull that always lied silently on his desk, he mumbled "Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it has stopped beating?" The skull reminded silent of course. How unexpected.

In the streets however, things were not so silent, fast footsteps running mindfully towards their destination. Their owner passed many people, but of course no one was going to recognize him despite his popular looks; after all why would The Earl Phantomhive be doing running in the streets at such day, it was his wedding day after all, he was probably just a relative, or at least that is how people convinced themselves in their simple minds.

The "Closed" sign was the last thing that could stop him at this moment, opening the door he barged inside, only to be met with the sight of his darling in tears.

"Oh, Undie-" "OUT"

His darling shut him up.

He could not help but chuckle, he deserved a hard slap for that, but he did not mind it as he rushed to his side, brining him into his arms.

"Didn't you hear me you primitive poor excuse of a man? You even have the audacity to let your laughter echo among these walls when I am here....." Vincent kept holding him no matter how hard he pushed him away, holding the back of his head, he brought his face into his chest.

"When I am here... being pathetic over someone like you-" The primitive poor excuse of a man shut him up, devouring his mouth as if he had been starved for ages.

"Vince-" The Undertaker had the enough power to throw him flat against the wall, but his hands disagreed for some reason.

Earl pulled back once he felt his darling relaxing in his arms. "My sweet death... would you slap me if I say you are being dramatic right now?" His voice had a touch of amusement.

"I would clear your very existence" His darling however, sounded quite serious, no matter how unusual was that.

Vincent chuckled again before kissing his tear-stained eyes, and brought his hand up to his chest, so he could feel his heartbeat, "This very heart belongs to you, my soul is yours to take and my mind would only be filled with the thoughts of you." Undertaker did not like how he knew that his lover was not lying. He infact, wanted him to lie, so he could shut his pain away, convincing himself that he was not his to have.

But looking up at his blue eyes that glowed like a clear pond under the moonlight, filled with a liquid called 'honesty' , he knew it was never his fault. He had proved his feelings many times, one of them being today, leaving his new wed bride behind for him.

The Undertaker's fingers, fiddled with his lover's buttons, wanting to bury his face into his neck. Vincent allowed him of course, letting him go as far as nibbling and bitting on his skin. He knew exactly what his darling was doing, he wanted to show that woman the he could never belong to her. She could never own him.

Vincent Phantomhive only was his to have. That woman may own his last name, or the title of his spouse, but his heart could never be hers. A side of him called his possessiveness pathetic, but he was not going to care about it at that moment. He did not mind being 'pathetic' in front of his lover, his oh so sweet and gentle lover that could never see him as anything but precious.

Picking him up easily, Vincent pinned him against the desk, right next to his skull buddy, returning all the love bites he had left on his neck and shoulders. Removing the attire off of his petite body was not hard, he took his time with it though, caressing every inch of skin with affection, giving his butt cheeks squeezes as his mouth worked on his hard nipples.

"What is wrong Undie? Not making much of sound today? You know how I love hearing you." Vincent playfully pulled on his now sensitive buds with his teeth, finally making him whimper slightly.

"That is it darling, do not forbid me of hearing you." He went on with his teasing, smirking when he moaned loudly as his fingers stretched his hole.

"You currently do not even deserve....mmhah... touching me.." Of course The Undertaker was too prideful to admit how he had forgiven him so easily, not that Vincent did not know.

"Should I be touching Rachel instead of my darl-"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT" It was high pitched scream at this point as the fingers inside of him had pressed his sweet spot.

The Earl had this annoying habit of laughing when his darling was being cute like this. He took his teasing further by rubbing his tip against his entrance. He clearly wanted to hear him ask for it.

"Put it in already, you wretched vermin" Undertaker had never sounded so desperate before, his usually pale face now flushed as he looked upon his lover.

Vincent felt his heart squeeze itself at the sight before him, he pulled him up into his embrace once more. "You know the rules Undie, mouth open, tongue out." His smug smirk could be mistaken for one of a devil's.

And so he obeyed, not putting up a fight like he always did. He panted as he opened his mouth, and the second his tongue was out, Vincent had his mouth over it. Sucking on his tongue definitely was one of his favorite intimate activities, but now he wanted to hear him scream as he did so.

Holding on his butt cheeks, Vincent pushed his length inside him, his darling letting out a loud muffled scream as his tongue was being held captive. Vincent wanted to keep tormenting him further by the slow pace he was having, but The Earl himself was being impatient at this point.

Undertaker's moans got louder the second Vincent let go of his tongue, only to go back to his neck.

"Vincent...mahh I am...close ..go slower" his lover did the exact opposite. "VINCENT" His lover only laughed. "Undie darling, hahaha you have to see your expression right now... that alone is bringing me to my edge." He lovingly smooched his lips, his cock twitching inside of him. "You know I am close too.. not that we are going to stop anytime soon I have to...mahhahaha, you just squeezed me so hard...are you happy to hear that...we will go longer than usual?"

"Why don't you try...ngghh shutting up for once?" And Vincent did as he said, bringing his mouth to his, moving his hips faster, enjoying the feeling of him moaning into his mouth as they both orgasmed together.

The pair did not stop at one round, Vincent stopped counting at some point, he was determined to give his darling the wedding night he deserved. Oh he wanted to actually marry him for real, instead of a noble woman whose only purpose was to give him a heir.

He held his sleeping darling against himself, holding onto him tightly, his fingers caressing his back and drawing hearts here and there; as both of the laid inside one of the bigger coffins, the lid off of course.

"Well it cannot be helped, guess I just can enjoy the moment I have with you."

[imjustabeanie]

Matchup for @ambiguouscheese

Your genshin match is...Kaeya!

Very difficult choice between Kaeya and Wriothesley cuz they both fit you so much! Your relationship would be a fun one. I choose him because he is adventurous, open minded yet he has a soft and caring side underneath his mask.

You and Kaeya met at the tavern. You’re quite the famous musician in Mondstat and can sometimes be found playing at diluc tavern. He found you having some kind of fun competition with Venti and decided to join both of you. Kaeya is someone you can get along with easily, but getting him to consider you a close friend is difficult. He has many squelettons in his closet after all. It was after many similar meetings that he started considering you a fun acquaintance and even inviting you to fun places he finds. One incident in particular is when Kaeya saw you fencing. That afternoon, he became your sparring partner and even showed you some moves. Many fond memories were made that day as he shared some parts of his childhood. His confession was rather out of the blue. He is very flirty and you didn’t believe him at first but then he confirmed it and you two became an item.

Kaeya is a rather complex lover. He doesn’t let people in, that’s why he half expected the relationship to not last. It took time for him to fully commit but once he does you’ll notice it. He’ll become more open with you, start venting about his day and people to you and just share the feelings that he normally keeps bottled up. Kaeya love language is mostly quality time and acts of service. He does enjoy some physical affection at home but in public he prefers just offering his arm or holding your hand if he feels bold.

He likes how energetic you are because you two do so much together! Heck you two go to sleep very late unless you have something important the next day. He prepares fun and surprise dates often where you go to festival, arcades or just a hike to get a wonderful view. He even camps with you and if he can he’ll take you to other regions of Teyvat to enjoy their customs. You two have busy schedules, and his is less flexible but always find time for each other. Jean understand that Kaeya is learning to fall in love so she encourages him to take some days off (she and lisa have a bet going on lol). Speaking of them, Kaeya sometimes ask them for date or gift ideas that he can’t ask you or it would ruin the surprise. It’s very cute and probably all Mondstat knows about your couple. Totally not Venti fault. Diluc was at first skeptical but in the end he was happy for his brother. He finds it nice that Kaeya is going forward and isn’t stuck in the past.

Kaeya doesn’t mind your profession at all lol. You two have your jobs and he sometimes jockingly asks you what you’d play for his funeral or your wedding. Rather dark humor but he’s just teasing you. When he saw you building things he was rather surprised to be honest. It sparkled a tradition where he finds their equivalent of legos and gift you a new one each month or so. Yes he built you lego flowers.

Your house is rather chaotic but homey. You both have a space for your alone time and he made sure that your space had a nice window and a very nice table plus library. He likes seeing you drawing and has asked you more than once to draw him like one of your Fontainian girls (men?). It’s a nice home life. Kaeya likes cooking with you despite take outs being his good to go lol. He even makes the effort to surprise you with breakfast in bed sometimes! Kaeya is a tease who enjoys messing with you. He keeps things on high shelves and gives you funny nicknames (they’re not insulting). He even steals your jackets sometimes…

It took him a few months to show you his eye and even longer to tell you his past. He expected you to run away or call him a monster but was very happy when you stuck around. He showed it by hugging you very close and refusing to let go. That’s when he knew you were his one and only.

[uniquegamers21]

The days of doom

(Genshin impact roleplay)(One x One PRIVATE Roleplay)

  [Childe]

He put the portal a little far from the Liyue harbour. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. The place seems calm and peaceful as always. Many traders come and leave from Liyue harbour. As expected of Liyue Qixing, she is indeed Pantalone's rival in terms of business. However, the city looks rather lively than before. They even added some decoration as well. Ah, is it nearly Lantern Rite? What a perfect timing! This would be the very first time he took her to Lantern Rite. It seems they decorated it with the statue of Yaksha and kite. He saw many children trying to fly the Jade Chamber kite. Some of them choose a whopper flower kite. Maybe, he should make his own kite later. 

 "Now, Welcome to Liyue Harbour my princess~ we should go to Northland Bank and take some cash. Besides, we came at the right time. See those decorations? They're preparing for Lantern Rite tonight. I bet they even hired Wushu dancing this year. I'm sure you will like it. Shall we go now?" Childe winked at her teasingly. It would be great if she could make up her mind and join Fatui instead. That way, he could keep an eye on her. Unfortunately, what Childe didn't know was that he wasn't the only one who would keep an eye on her. A man with a half mask sensed a portal nearby. However, he couldn't feel any abyss presence at all. Putting his money on the table, the man leaves the tea house and checks whoever it is. If they weren't the abyss, perhaps he could ask them how they did it. If they were the abyss, he had to get ready to fight. 

​​​​​​"uh, sir?" Dainsleif shook his head and waved his hand at the waiter. "You can take the change." The waiter looked confused, he stared at the money before looking back at him. "Uh..actually, you gave me less than the price...you need 1000 more." Dainsleif went silent for a while. "Ah, I see...my apologies. Wait a moment.." When he wanted to take mora from his pocket, he couldn't find it. 'Wait, where's my mora?' He kept searching around and still couldn't find it. "Wait, don't tell me...that kid- ugh...I never thought today would be a bad day. Excuse me for a moment. I will go back here once I get my wallet" Dainsleif quickly ran out, he need to find his wallet quickly and find whoever that was! "Sir! You can't leave without paying! You there, call security catch him!"

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Inside Liyue harbour, Childe took her to Northland Bank. They welcomed her warmly and provided the amounts he asked for. After all, he is the harbinger. Even if he is the last one, he still did some work to raise their finances as well- ah, wait a minute, if she joined the Fatui, that does mean she will meet Pantalone as well. Ugh, he loves those more, but his monologues are too long for him to handle. Not to mention, the crazy doctor and his segments as well. Somehow, he started to change his mind about her joining the Fatui. Shaking his head at his random thoughts, Childe filled in the paper before the receptionist gave him the mora. "So, why don't we take a look at the kite? I'm sure you would love it,  or perhaps we should taste delicious food at the Pavilion? After all, master doesn't have a good taste...or maybe we should make a kite instead?" 

"Making kite? That does sound like a good idea...it's rare to see you do it with your own hands. I still remember the time when you paid a large amount of more to make a custom kite" A young man in a perfectly neat suit appeared behind them. He smiled warmly at both of them. He bowed at Demetra like a true gentleman. "Good evening miss, I am Zhongli, working in funeral parlour as a consultant. It's rare to see Mister Childe with someone as beautiful as you." Zhongli always acts like a true gentleman, even in the way he speaks, he chooses his words carefully. "Ah, Mister Zhongli. Good evening, I never thought I would meet you again here." Childe's expression remains the same, however, his body language is different than before. He pulled Demetra closer to him as if to show him that she belonged to her.

"That's right, she is my friend. Perhaps deeper than a friend. I want her to enjoy her first Lantern Rite"

"is that so? I had a close acquaintance who was an expert in making kites. Perhaps, I could introduce both of you to her? Of course, it depends on you miss."

Both Zhongli and Childe stared at her, waiting for the answer. Zhongli seems curious and would like to know her better. As for Childe, he is acting childish and possessive.

[ Ruka ]

"Is that so? entertain me then~" She winked at him playfully. It's been a while since the last time she spoke to another person. This person seems interesting enough, at least more interesting than the other akademiya student she stalk observed. There's another person that she kept her eye on, what was her name again? Soh- something? Instead of those technology from Khaenriah, she chooses to study animals from forests instead. She's quite unique, maybe he knows her?  "Ah, I saw one girl around the forest, she studied animals..what was her name again? Sohre? Shore? Sometimes she sneaks out as well, maybe you know her? Or perhaps you can relay a message later. If she kept doing that those animals could be the death of her. Well, now, how about we go and see more of those ruins Zandik?  I know someplace that may look interesting to you. I won't accept No for answer. Considering this as repayment that I saved your life." Actually, this is only a reason to get to know him better. She can't be a creepy stalker all the time. Aether kept reminding her to not be seen by others for the sake of their plan. Sometimes, she wondered why those people were so curious about Khaenriah. After all, they're doomed with the curse of immortality. Some of them even turned into a monster. Only a few of them survive including her. Ruka felt grateful that Aether saved her life on time. She could never forget what happened that day. Shaking her head, she put those thoughts deeper into her mind and walked ahead of him, showing the way. 

​​​​​​After 1 hour on the roads...

"those damn eremites.... seriously! Do I look like a spoiled elite girl or something?!" A long tiring sigh escaped from her small lips. Kicking the unconscious eremites on the ground, she gave him another smack just for her own satisfaction. Those eremites were guarding her secret tunnel and it made her furious that they found her secret alone place. Perhaps someone hiring them to find out about those sites? "Ahem, sorry about that. So, here is the secret tunnel that I found. Great isn't it?" Ruka grinned, feeling proud that she could find a secret path in a foreign land without Aether. She placed her hands on the late vines that close the entrance. Whispering the secret words, the vines slowly retract themselves. "Now, let's go to this cave" She pulled his hands and showed him what the cave could offer. As she kept pulling him, they went deeper underground. However, the sights are definitely worth it. "So, what do you think about this one?" There's a large tree in the middle, it's such a beautiful scenery. Under the there are purple carpet and some fluffy dolls that she brought. "Ahem, I just trying to make myself comfortable. Anyway, the one you are looking for, is over there" She pointed at another path across the tree. She quickly shows it to him. There are surprisingly a lot of ruins guards and the biggest one remains intact. "Oh! Here, I take off the circuit since it keeps firing missiles. Why don't you enjoy yourself now? I will be right there under the tree. You can come to me first when you are finished." It should be alright since he won't take a long time...right? Let's hope Aether won't scold her about this. Walking away from him, she decided to take a rest and lay on the carpet, closing her eyes for a while. The quietness of this place calms her mind, maybe it is alright to take a nap for a few minutes...

[beautiful-02-08-18]

💜HALLOWEEN REPOST PT. 2🖤

From what I know only three characters have these skins and the other two are Kuga and Miyo who have a Frankenstein skin and a Gumiho skin respectively. A little detail I noticed is that the skins kinda fit the characters, like Kuga is strong like Frankenstein and Miyo is rather spiritual like a Gumiho. A Dracula-themed skin for Charming Gold fits him so well; the guy is 1,000+ years old absorbing life forces to stay alive and be beautiful.

Since two of those are based on European origins I decided to design DD’s after Korean origins like Miyo’s. From what I’ve researched the Cheonyeo Gwishin is described as having black hair and wearing white funeral clothes. I thought it would fit her because she is a gloomy and vengeful person. It's also a reference to how she had been living unbothered from humanity for almost all of her 1,000+ years old life until Ulcus’ awakening like a ghost. Including the fact that she is a fanon character, so she’s “invisible” to the cast. Although, slightly goofy as its English translation is Korean Virgin Ghost but I’ll just gloss over that.

Her hanbok is definitely not a faithful design but I thought it’d be fine for this one, besides, neither are the official skins anyway. The hair accessories she has are a bow and a hairpin. In modern funeral customs, women wear a white ribbon hairpin. The other one is called a binyeo which is a traditional hairpin used to fix up a woman’s chignon, but it is known as a symbol of marriage. The pink rose on it is part of her backstory with CG where he gave a pink rose when they were kids to show his gratefulness for their friendship. I also thought her mask would be an iconic look for her so I placed it here too. There are 8 flashes of light here and its supposed to represent the emblems of the characters: Bug, Bars, Nyanya, Mong, Giraf, Peng, Empa, and Pikok.

This art piece took me two weeks already! I got to understand my art limits, but also improve my art skills. While it's only a half-body I improved on things like anatomy. The teeth finally look good but I had a whiplash when I realized that the torso is approximately the size of two heads.

I also did the pizza art trend that was on Instagram on the last art slides, but it is extremely subtle though. Thank you for reading!