#i know ive mentioned this before but GRAY. REALLY.

[ot3]

did some wood staining for the first time today 👍 my technique is terrible but its fun and im excited to get these shelves finished

[spatio-rift]

the thing about me as a taka fan is that i think their ending makes sense. in a way that was probably completely unintentional because kishimoto likely just wrote it that way to follow up on what they did during the war (which was really out of character). but it ended up making sense for them

[justauthoring]

Heeey, I saw you are writing for fairy tail😍😍 I am obsessed. Can I please request a Natsu x Reader fiction. I don't have anything specific in mind. Maybe they are on a quest and reader is cold and Natsu helps them warm up. I don't know, just pure fluff!!! Thank you!!!!!!

just a lil drabble while im sick :) natsu was my first ever anime crush and ive been feeling so nostalgic about him <3

late night cuddle.

you tried not to make it obvious, but it was getting harder by the second.

just why the hell was it so cold?

it had been like that for the entirety of the mission but bearable in the midst of everything. natsu and gray's bickering, coupled with light chattering with lucy and erza had been enough to keep your mind off of it on the trip here, and then once you were in the thick of it, it was pretty easy to ignore too. fighting, after all, built up quite the sweat.

but now? with no sun and just the dark, lonely sky, and a sleeping bag that was as thin as the shirt you were wearing it? it was so much more harder to ignore now.

a glance over your shoulder to your teammates tells you they're pretty much all asleep themselves, except for natsu who'd elected to keep first watch. happy had first volunteered to join him, but twenty minutes in you'd heard natsu chuckle affectionately and send him off to bed too.

so, that left just him and then the rest of your teammates peacefully asleep.

your eyes flicker to lucy next to you; you could ask her if she wanted to share a blanket and sleep close for warmth. you knew the girl never really wore the most appropriate clothing so she wouldn't mind and it wasn't like it was your first time ever having to share a sleeping bag before.

but.... but she looked so peaceful. her eyes shut and her lips parted just slightly as her chest rose and fell with soft breathes and you remember how she'd gotten hit partically hard earlier in the fight. the large bandaged bruise on her cheek a swift reminder and you didn't want to wake her up especially when rest was probably the best thing for her.

not to mention, wendy was off with gajeel and levy for a mission so she didn't have wendy's soothing healing magic to ease any of the pain.

yeah. no. you definitely were not disturbing her.

you glance to your other teammates. you loved gray, but he definitely wouldn't warm you up—if anything, he'd probably just make you more cold. erza wasn't an option either. you'd made that mistake once before and your head still hurt from being slammed against her armour (which she wore to bed, of course) and then kept against it for the entirety of the night.

happy was nice to cuddle with but he wouldn't keep you all that warm.

finally, your eyes flicker back to natsu. his back is turned to you and he's sitting crossed-legged by the edge of the camp, completely in his own world. he'd be warm, the warmest out of everyone, given him being a fire dragon slayer. but... the thought of... of asking him to warm you up brought an instant flush to your cheeks, embarrassment coursing through your entire veins and that idea gets reected instantly in fear of your feeligns.

so, relectantly, you're turning back around, letting your head fall against your thin pillow again.

you shut your eyes, forcing them shut and pull your knees to your chest, holding your blanket tight against you, praying that even just a bit of warmth will allow you to fall asleep.

a cold burst of wind has you shivering a second later and your teeth practically chitter against one another and you give up on sleep all together then.

with your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, you make your way to where natsu's sat, sitting an appropriate distance from him.

"y/n?"

natsu's voice is soft, an odd tone you've never really heard on him before as his head tilts to face you, confusion written across his face.

"what're you doing up?"

"couldn't sleep," is all you offer in explanation, pulling your blanket closer around you. sending him a soft smile, you gesture behind you. "you can head to bed if you want. i can keep watch."

for a split second, he looks like he's gonna agree, the exhaustion clear on his face as he moves to thank you. then, wind brushes through the camp once again that has your hair swishing and your shoulders pulling in, a hiss leaving your lips as you try to fight through the bitting wind. natsu halts to a stop.

"why couldn't you sleep?"

you barely realize natsu's asked you a question until suddenly his face is right in front of you, concerned.

"o-oh!" you let out, startled, leaning back and using your hand to catch yourself. regrettably though, just the mere presence of natsu so close already makes you feel warmer. "it's no biggie!" you laugh off lightly, despite how good he feels so close. "i was just a little cold so i thought—"

whatever you're about to say gets promptly cut off the second you're being pulled flush against a firm chest. it all happens in a second. it's like you blink and suddenly you're being lifted off the ground and into a lap where a pair of arms wrap snuggly around your waist and you're completely surrounded by warmth.

"n-natsu!"

"here," natsu whispers, gruffly and it nearly sends you into a heart attack. "i'll keep you warm."

you blink, turning back to see him grinning brightly down at you. that same toothy grin natsu always has and the same one that always sends flutters through your stomach and has your heart racing madly against your chest.

you can barely stand it in general and even less when it's directed solely at you.

"oh," you manage to force out. "you—you don't have to, natsu!" you wingle in his grasp, trying to scoot off of his lap, but natsu's grip stays tight around you. "i meant what i said. you should get some rest and—"

"y/n?"

"...yeah?"

natsu's grin fades but only to turn into something softer. a warm, gentle grin falls on his face as he shakes his head. "you're practically shaking. you even feel cold, and that's a lot coming from me." you frown, just then realizing how cold you really had been. "it's fine. i offered to keep watch in the first place and besides? who better than me to keep you warm, right?"

there's a possessive edge to his tone that you don't quite catch.

the way he says it so nonchalantly has you absolutely reeling. so much that all you can manage in response is a weak hum and a nod as you turn back ahead of yourself, slowly and cautiously letting your back fall against natsu's chest.

"comfortable?"

you can feel his chest rumble as he speaks.

"y-yeah," you nod, letting yourself sink into his touch more, unable to deny how warm he is. a good warm. a really good warm. you can already feel the exhaustion you'd been feeling all day catching up to you as your eyelids grow heavy.

"thank you, natsu."

you say it just as your eyes fall shut, unaware of the warm smile natsu glances at you down with as you fall asleep in his arms and in his lap.

"no problem, y/n/n."

-

"damn, natsu, i didn't think you had it in you."

"shut it, droopy eyes."

"hey—!"

"they're in loveeeee~!"

"seriously, though, natsu. i... i certainly wasn't expecting to wake up to this."

"yeah, natsu. if you forced her, i—"

"what! no! what kind of guy do you take me for! i didn't force her to do—"

you let out a moan at the flutter of noises overwhelming your senses. all you can really register is how warm you are and how comfortable you are. the thought that you could stay here forever crosses your mind and you move to just go back to sleep, and then—

then. you remember everything.

being cold. unable to sleep. going to natsu. and then... then him pulling you into his lap and—

you snap awake, bolting out of natsu's arms who pulls back in surprise at your sudden movement. it takes you a second, blinking the sleep out of your eyes, before your gaze shifts from natsu who's smiling at you, with a faint pink to his cheeks, to the rest of your teammates stood in front of you.

gray looks smug, sending you a smirk as you turn bright red. erza looks utterly confused, her eyes snapping between you and natsu. happy is barely able to contain his laughter. and lucy's looking at you like you've grown a second head.

it occurs to you that you should say something.

turning to them, you raise your hand; "it isn't what you think."

"it's exactly what you think."

"natsu!"

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek I?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Ace Trappola, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: So, as mentioned in previous posts, this is only a snippet of what is to come in a project I’m working on. I just wanted to do something for my followers since we have surpassed the milestone that is 4,000 hearts, which is huge. So thank you! Unfortunately, I don’t really have time for a special like I’ve done before where I accept requests since I’ve been so busy with irl stuff and the current twst quiz project. So here’s a small bit of what you can hopefully expect. Remember, I may or may not change things, so what you see now may not be the same later in the final result. That being said, I’m sorry I couldn’t provide much else besides peeks at three of the seven results. I still have a LOT more to write. Like, a ton. But I hope you all look forward of what is to come. Added: Deleted the Scarabia and Pomefiore part to create their own sneak-peeks later.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

First there will be questions you must answer. Questions that I will not reveal in this sneak-peek, but based on the answers you give to those questions, you will receive a result with a story. This post is a peek at some of those stories/results. Important things to keep in mind that you learn from the questions: 

The mc is deemed a criminal in their society.

All criminals in this society are banished, no matter how insignificant or significant the crime may be. 

This particular society makes a show of banishment, to make others fear this fate. Which mc recalls seeing trials on tv about past criminals. 

All criminals are never seen or heard from again. No one knows for certain what happens to them, but most assume death. 

Although the most popular fantastical theory is that criminals become henchmen for infamous evil-doers, and receive punishment there that may range from anywhere like a violent painful death to spending eternity in some tiny horrid prison. 

THE RED QUEEN

Robes. You were wearing robes of the finest quality that weighed heavily on your shoulders. This surface you laid on felt... nice. Soft, nothing like the hard bench of the prison cell. As you sat up and recalled your current dire situation, you felt a sense of dread loom overhead like a thick blanket of gray clouds. Immediately, fearfully, you scanned your surroundings. Everything was painted red, there was so much red velvet. The floors were polished checkered black and white and the furniture, if not completely red, was crafted of finely carved wood. It was fancy here. Safe, for now. Wherever this place was.

There was something hefty on your head, only noticing its weight settling on your skull as you moved to stand up from the crimson red sheets on the king-sized mattress. As you removed the item from your head, you were perplexed to see a small golden crown and a heart-shaped staff beside the spot you had laid on. Wait just a moment... red everywhere? A fancy setting? A crown and a heart-shaped staff? Rapidly you dashed over to the mirror just beside the bed, gasping at your appearance.

You were dressed just like royalty. And not just any royalty, like a king. A king of red with a heart-shaped staff... Just like the meek king that was married to the ruthless Queen of Hearts from the fairytales. So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... you were the king. How did the story go again?

The Red Queen, or Queen of Hearts, ruled over Wonderland with an iron fist. She would behead anyone who got in her way, and her reign terrorized the residents of the realm. That is, until Alice fell down a hole and arrived in Wonderland. She would eventually free this land from the oppressive rein of the queen. As for the king... what happened to him again? He didn't really appear in the story. You wracked your memory for an answer, when the horrid realization came to you. The Red Queen had been so terribly jealous and suspected that her husband was cheating, that she had him beaded! His head left to rot as it floated in a river of blood, surrounded by the heads of other victims, and the king's lifeless skull still with the crown. He had died before Alice even arrived in Wonderland!

You clutched your neck, grimacing at the thought of your own detached head, crown still attached, doomed to sail in a moat of blood. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. There had to be a way to prevent your death, or at least stall for time, but how? The king couldn't just up and run away! People would take notice immediately, someone would inform the queen, and you'd be a goner for sure! But then what? You couldn't kill her either, could you...? It certainly was an idea. You would be doing a favor for the rest of Wonderland too...

THUMP!

Abruptly the doors flew open, nearly causing you to shriek. But you managed to hold your tongue as you quickly placed your crown back on and clutched your staff. When your eyes focused on the door, you were surprised and almost relieved to see the figure of a short young man that had slammed the doors open. He was... rather adorable, actually. It caused you to tilt your head, endeared by his appearance.

The young man had hair that shamed the red roses, and wide gray eyes. As soon as his eyes landed on you, however, his face grew flush and his expression twisted into one of rage. Immediately he slammed the doors shut behind him, stomping up to you, his heels violently clicking against the tiled floors. When the short young man was in your face, another horrible realization dawned on you. With that crown on his head and his wondrous red garbs, this could only be the queen. Or at least, someone meant to be the red queen.

“You knave! Where have you been lurking?!”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? What was the king even doing before you got here? Most importantly, how would you avoid the queen’s wrath?

At your lack of a response, he only seemed to grow more frustrated as he threw wild accusations, “You–– You’ve been sneaking about, seducing the men of my court, haven’t you?! I shall have your head––!”

“Wha–– N-No, I haven’t!” You blurted out. The king was originally beheaded because the queen was jealous and thought she would lose him to others. So if you could assure him that your heart belonged to him, well… survival just might be possible. Although acting wasn’t necessarily your strong point, you could only try for the sake of living another day. Nervously you smiled, throwing aside your staff as you lifted your hands to gently hold his fist he had been angrily waving near your face. Thank god he didn’t have a knife or anything of the sort, or you feared he may have tried to stab you out of raging envy. “How could I ever dare to throw my loyalty to you away…? You are amazing…! I apologize sincerely if I haven’t been able to express my love for you properly. S-Sometimes it feels like you’re really too much for my heart to handle, you in all your… glory…!” Oh god, this was going terribly. All you could do to give the messy act a bow to top it off, was lean your head down and hesitantly kiss the back of his hand.

Miraculously, that seemed to work. Almost. The queen’s face was no longer as flushed, but he gazed down at you as you lingered at his hand. Suspicion was still evident in his eyes. “How do I know?”

“H-Huh…?”

“How do I know you aren’t lying? How do I know you won’t leave me as well? How do I know that you still love me? Prove it to me.” Those gray eyes of his watched you carefully, seemingly unhappy with your lack of a response. After about five seconds of no answer, his face scrunched up and he bellowed, “Guards!! Gua–– mmph!”

Not knowing what else to do, you kissed him. He wanted a sign of devotion, right? Oh god, this was it. Your death was here and now. You had no other way to shut him up. If you covered his mouth with your hands, you were a goner. If you attacked him, you were a goner. If you tried to continue reasoning, you were still a goner! You can’t believe that this was how you died, having to kiss a stranger as your last desperate attempt to live. Well, he wanted a sign. You were ready for him to push you off and armored guards come running in to drag you to the guillotine, when the most unexpected thing happened. He froze, he didn’t fight back or scream bloody murder.

When you slowly pulled away, you were stunned. His face was flush again, but for an entirely different reason other than anger. There was a dazed look on his face, and it almost looked as if he wanted to do it again judging by how he gazed longingly at your lips. It was then you understood that your reckless decision making might’ve just saved your neck.

The red ruler frowned, but you were unsure if it was because he was unsatisfied with something or if it were for another reason entirely. This time, when he opened his mouth, he spoke softly, as if still dazed. “You scoundrel… How dare you play with my heart like this? I should still take your head for that.” You gulped, but he continued. “But… I truly didn’t want to get rid of you. So I’m glad we can avoid that now. I expect to see you well away from the noblemen.”

“Y-Yes… Your Majesty.”

At your obedient response, he smiled and patted your head. “Good.” Taking one step closer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your cheek. He lingered there for a few moments, before taking one step back.

The action left you flustered, embarrassed, because not only had you kissed a stranger but they had kissed you in return. And not only that, this crimson ruler believed you were his partner, the king! Under normal circumstances, you would’ve considered yourself lucky to land in such a position since the king has so much power and wealth. But in this type of situation, you can only shudder to think of what may come next and what would’ve become of you. Because these were no ordinary circumstances, and this was no normal kind ruler.

“Come along now. I don’t want you alone, do you understand?”

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

He beckoned you towards the very doors he entered from, and when he opened them, you were met with another character. It was a tall man with glasses and short messy dark green hair. Immediately he bowed to the queen, but when his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he saw a ghost.

“Change of plans, Trey. We will not be beheading my dear today. Nor tomorrow, I think. They’ve become quite affectionate, so my doubts have been dismissed.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty…” The glass-wearing man, Trey, glanced over at you with disbelief, but he looked a bit relieved, it’s as if he wanted to say something. But he opted to hold his tongue and instead shifted his gaze forward as he walked beside the red-haired royal. “There is still that soldier imprisoned that displeased you.”

“Ah yes, the one that claimed to see those messy blonde locks but failed to capture our lost wanderer. Bring him to me in the throne room.” Just then he glanced at you as you walked a bit behind him, “My dear, you must be there with me. This should be quite the spectacle. I will see you in a moment.”

“A-As you say, Your Majesty…” You replied stiffly.

He frowned and stopped in his tracks before grabbing your collar and bringing your face closer to his. What you half expected was a sharp knife against your throat, something that would kill you, but there was no such thing. There was only his sharp gaze and disappointed tone. “You’re supposed to respond with: my dear. Not Your Majesty, not Rosehearts, but perhaps I’ll allow Riddle for now. Do you understand, dearest?”

So his name was Riddle. Judging by Riddle’s tone, he wasn’t angry, but rather irked that all the sweetness from earlier was now gone. Proceeding, you chose your words carefully as you attempted to smile as convincingly as possible, “Y-Yes, of course, anything you say, Riddle, my darling.”

At your words his cheeks became a pink hue before he let go of you and cleared his throat, quickly turning away and proceeding forward towards the end of the hall where he had whatever duties to fulfill. So you were left with Trey, his subordinate. The calm tall man’s shoulders sagged once the royal left, all the tension seemingly evaporating from his body. When he gave you a somewhat soft smile, your worries ceased for the moment as well. “I’m glad you’re still intact. I was certain you were a goner.” He was… nice? “You need to be more careful. I don’t know what you did to change Riddle’s mind, but he was ready to behead you himself. You know how he keeps that huge battle ax under his bed. He mentioned something about using that, and I thought he was going to use it to chop your head clean off.”

Oh god. That little guy was going to do that? That stupid kiss really did save your skin. “Heh, I’m still a little shaken…” Wait, you were supposed to be acting like the king! What did the king even act like? How were you supposed to know? He never even lived long enough to make it into the story! “I, um, am very appreciative towards your concern… Trey.”  

Trey appeared a bit surprised but he then smiled once more at you. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, we have a situation on our hands.”

What kind of situation? You didn’t even have time to ask when Trey led you down the checkered hall to an opening behind velvet red curtains which were the entrance directly to the large elegant throne room. There, you saw another stranger talking animatedly to the less-than-pleased-looking Rosehearts. This stranger had orange hair that brushed against his lower neck, and he had much more enthusiasm than those you had encountered thus far.

“Dear, there you are.” Instantly Riddle visibly brightened up as he gestured to the soft smaller heart-shaped throne beside his much larger grand seat. “Come, sit, we’re currently discussing the important matters at hand. Such as the dilemma with our prisoner. Cater, continue.”

When this Cater, fellow’s, green eyes trailed over to you, they became filled with surprise as he fumbled over his words, “Huh–– O-Oh! Right!” Forcing his gaze back on the red-haired royal, he began explaining, “There’s nothing really new to talk about, Your Majesty! I mean, seriously, this rookie was just the unlucky one that happened to see that blondie Ellis. According to him when I went to question him, he just said that he saw the guy in blue and when he went to confront him, Ellis escaped with some purple beastman!”

“Purple beastman…?” For a mere moment he appeared perplexed, when quickly the dots began to connect in his mind as he gasped, “Chen’ya! Why, the nerve of that––!”

When you saw his face begin to heat up again and a look of anger crossed his face, you slowly placed your hand over his arm that rested on the armrest of the throne. Then, he froze, everyone else, Trey, Cater, the few servants, the many armored guards in the room, they all were wide-eyed at what you had done. You had touched the queen when they were about to enter a fit of rage! You messed up–– Shit––

Riddle released a slow breath before placing his other hand atop your own. You felt such a massive flood of relief knowing you made the right move when he appeared much calmer as he nodded his head toward you, “Thank you, my dear. We shall discuss a proper punishment for that wretched feline later. For now…” Instantly his voice did a one-eighty as he turned his head toward the two imposing doors and shouted, “Bring him!!”

Nervously you looked over at Trey who stood tall and upright by Riddle’s side, and he remained oddly focused on the door. And that orange-haired guy, Cater, where did he go…?

“Hey…!”

Your eyes flittered over to you right where Cater was bent over a bit to whisper in your ear, while everyone else was distracted by the prisoner being escorted inside.

“I’m so happy that you’ve alive…! Don’t go dying on me so quickly, ‘kay? You wouldn’t leave me all alone here, would you?”

“Uh… no, of course not.” Huh. This Cater guy seemed pretty close to the king, or now you actually.

When you averted your eyes to the front, you listened to the clacking of armor as you watched more soldiers bring forward one of their own. Yet unlike all the others masked by metal, this soldier in shackles didn’t have a helmet. His messy red hair stuck out every which way, which made you wonder how on earth he even managed to fit that mess of hair under a helmet at all. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he wore a stiff frown as his shackles rattled with every step he took until he was right before the steps leading up to the red royal. When he refused to kneel, he was pushed down to his knees as Riddle eyed him with disdain.

Riddle wasted no time, because as soon as this prisoner was on his knees, he began his tirade of questions. “Ace Trappola, was it? We know you saw Ellis. Do you know where he is?”

The soldier’s head lolled forward a bit, his warm-colored eyes stopping on you for a moment as you gazed back at him. In a way, this Ace reminded you of… well, you. In shackles, forced to kneel, in front of a higher authority that was obviously not particularly fond of you, and likely with a sentence that could only mean your doom ahead of you. In a way, you did feel for him after hearing the basis of why he was arrested.

All was silent, only his shackles could be heard again as he slowly shrugged and snapped back, “I’d like to know that too! I mean, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s free as a bird. Meanwhile, me? Locked up for trying to do my job––!”

“Failing to do your only job.” Riddle corrected with a scoff. “I will ask you one more time. Where. Is. Ellis?”

Ace, still annoyed, continued. He must’ve been either stupid or brave for continuing. Although it might’ve been both as he mocked him. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I. Don’t. Know.”

Under your hand you felt Riddle’s fingers dig into the armrest, his knuckles growing white as he raised his voice an octave, “What if I take off your head? Will you know then?”

“If you took my head, you wouldn’t get any answers after that.” He retorted with a slight eye roll.

Underneath your hand you could feel Roseheart’s anger growing the tighter he dug his nails into the chair. When you saw his face, you and everyone else could tell that he was fit to burst, no doubt ready to seal this soldier’s doom. Instantly you shot up from your throne, wanting to help save this prisoner. However, you very quickly began to regret it when all eyes darted over to your form, and you now became the center of attention. You couldn’t just sit back down, so with no other choice, you awkwardly cleared your throat and proceeded nervously, “My dearest, earlier when in our chambers I had an… um… epiphany! A vision! Y-Yes, I had a vision…! Ellis will slay your–– our, pet dragon jabberwocky.”

Instantly Riddle’s eyes widened. “He killed our jabberwocky?!”

“No…! No, at least not yet!”

Technically you weren’t lying. The story goes that the Red Queen had a powerful dragon, the jabberwocky, which was the main reason why she could keep such a grip on the kingdom with no rebellion ever coming close to dethroning her. At least, that is until Alice comes along and slays the jabberwocky. If you could somehow get rid of Alice, or Ellis in this case, and stay in Riddle Roseheart’s good graces, you would have it made! It was practically certain that the court back home thought you would’ve been beheaded already and your head would float in that river of blood for eternity. Yet here you were, alive, and if things went smoothly, you could live out your life in splendor here. Yes, you’d have to deal with the red royal, but if you could just stay in his good graces at all times, you would have a wonderfully lavish life! At this point you were just speeding things up, Ellis’ intentions of slaying the jabberwocky probably weren’t supposed to be revealed until much later. But, it would make a perfect excuse now.

As all eyes remained on you, you recounted your fake tale, “It all makes sense now…! In… In my vision I saw… A red-haired knight, um, clashing swords with a blonde man in blue and white!” Well, that part was a lie. There never was a red-haired knight in the stories. But this was an opportunity to potentially save Ace as well, and give him a chance to redeem himself in Riddle’s eyes. When you turned to face Ace, he was gazing at you with furrowed eyebrows, but you proceeded anyway as you gave your attention to Riddle now. “Riddle, I think–– I mean, I b-believe that knight is this one here in front of us.”

“Him?” The royal exclaimed in disbelief, looking at the soldier with something akin to disgust. To which the said soldier stuck out his tongue before a stern glare from Trey and Cater made Ace close his mouth. Riddle blinked, quiet for a moment before gazing up at you, his expression softening as he flipped over his hand so it held yours. “Is that what you were doing in our chambers alone? You were studying texts and had a vision, to save me?”

“Y…Yes…?”

His big gray eyes became fixated on you, as his voice became soft when he replied, “I’ve misjudged you, my dear… I believed you were being unfaithful, but you were working hard for me. How wrong I was.” The way he looked at you could only be described as adoringly.

It made you nervous, but you could only awkwardly smile in return. In order to ensure your own life of comfort here, you had to be sure to ruin the plot of the story. This meant that Ellis, the protagonist, could not win no matter what. Although it pained you to do such a thing, knowing that the outcome would most likely mean death by beheading him and his allies, you were more afraid of death than you were of the hero. For this, you would have to make sure the antagonist, Riddle Rosehearts in the role of the Red Queen, obtained a happy ending instead of a bad ending where he himself would be banished after being defeated by Ellis.

Clearing your throat, you hesitantly listed off the sequence of events in the way you recalled them playing out, “In my vision I saw… a blonde boy in blue, a purple feline beastmen, and a hatter, among other allies. Ellis will… will attempt to infiltrate the palace, and gain your favor under a disguise, and steal the ancient sword that can slay our Jabberwocky.” As all eyes and ears remained on you, you hesitated once again, mentally apologizing for what you were about to do. Maybe in the end, you might be able to plead with your supposed spouse to spare them. But deep down, you knew it was unlikely for the ruthless tyrant to even consider the idea. “Your Majesty, my darling, i-if I may make a suggestion…?”

Riddle nodded as he listened attentively, “Go on.”

Thankfully you had moved your hands away from his, and had them folded in your lap so he couldn’t feel the way your fingers trembled with anxiety. “I would like to suggest we allow this knight before us to carry the sword, sheathed and hidden at all times. Let this be his redemption–– um, please, if you allow it, your Majesty.” Said knight gazed up in surprise. “It would be best to keep sir Ace in our sights. So might I ask that he and another capable knight become my guards?” Guards. Smart move, especially if things get hairy later. “I-I’d also like to suggest an increase in your personal escorts too… my dear. So… so you’ll be safe. And, no one else besides those in this room, will know of what we spoke of today––”

“That way, Ellis will come here all on his own, and if he searches for the sword it will not be there.” Riddle finished, to which you nodded. He caught on quickly. “That’s brilliant!” You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the red royal turned to glance at his two subordinates, Trey and Cater, only to gesture to the former prisoner and demand of them, “Unbind him, Trey. How can he wield a sword if his hands are bound?”

Trey slowly stepped forward as Ace was allowed to stand, and he unlocked the shackles around the knight. Ace continued to peer up at you, suddenly flashing a grateful smile. To which you only caught a glimpse of before being distracted by the redhead on the throne.

“Cater!” Cater stood upright immediately and awaited orders from the royal. “Find a suitable knight to escort my partner! I expect only the strongest and most obedient of knights! Am I understood?”

“You got it, Your Majesty! I already have a few in mind.”

“Wonderful. I will be interviewing them myself, as well as hand-picking my own escorts.” Riddle stood from his throne, tossing out more commands and orders to be followed by his remaining subordinate and the guards that had escorted the former prisoner. “You lot, I want an increase on the perimeter and another search crew to hunt down that wretched boy Ellis! Trey, go and fetch the sword. As for you, Ace Trappola,” Turning to face the knight, he warned, “You have one more chance. Should you fail a second time, there will be no do-overs. Your head will roll and your family shall pay the price for your mistakes.”

For a mere moment, disbelief and anger flashed on Ace’s face. Just as he opened his mouth, you spoke up, “T-Thank you, Your Majesty…! You really are so… merciful.” Better to be a pawn in this game than to be dead.

Riddle turned his attention to you before smiling, such a true and proud smile as he declared, “I have you to thank for this, for saving my kingdom and protecting me. Once we have Ellis and his companions captured, we will have a morning execution for him, with front row seats to the show." As his eyes drifted back to the onlookers, he commanded, "All of you shall speak nothing of what transpired in this room.”

A chorus of Yes, Your Majesty echoed in the chamber. The royal nodded, content for now, sending you one last smile before turning on his heels and walking off to elsewhere with Cater in tow. Leaving you alone with Trey and Ace as all other attendants and soldiers exited the throne room to go fulfill their duties.

Just for a moment, you wanted to talk to Ace alone. There was something about Trey, something about the way he watched you so calmly but there was something in those yellow eyes behind those glasses. Something that made it seem like he knew your secret, like he knew you were not really the king. You weren’t sure if it was your paranoia getting to you and your mind was just playing tricks on you, but you wanted to distance yourself as far away from him as possible. As the former prisoner made his way towards you, you cleared your throat and spoke quietly, but loud enough for Trey to hear. “Can–– M-May I have a word with you, sir Ace…? In private.”

“Sure, I’m free now.” He half joked, giving a bit of a grin which didn’t do much to ease your worries.

Trey stood beside the empty throne, watching as you glanced over at him and made a gesture for him to carry on with the assigned duty of retrieving the legendary sword, as dictated by His Majesty. To which he did, after he carefully observed the way you scurried behind velvet curtains with the knight not too far behind.

When you were finally out of sight with Ace, you noticed his raised eyebrow. Noticing this and the way he tapped his foot, you hesitated, unsure where you were even going with this or what you should do now. “You… You look like you have something to say.”

“Why’d you save me?” He demanded, all that cheerfulness from before gone now as things took a serious turn. Looking you up and down, he crossed his arms and continued, “You could’ve had your cute little hubby chop off my head like all the others before me. So, say it. That’s the reason you wanted to talk alone, isn’t it?”

He got you. Were you that obvious? You’d definitely have to work on being more discreet… Looking around twice to make sure no one was listening in, you huddled with him in a corner by the stained glass windows as you whispered hurriedly, in a panic, “O-Okay, whew, you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I’m not really the king, or queen, or whatever role I’m supposed to play here! Well, I guess I am now? Uhhh… h-here! It’s like this: I was put on trial in my homeworld, and as punishment I was banished. When I woke up, I was in Roseheart’s bed and he started talking to me like I was an unfaithful partner! I didn’t understand it, until I realized that it was all exactly like a story I read as a child. My punishment was to become the king that dies by being beheaded by his own wife! I… I got out of that somehow, and now, well…”

Ace was looking at you as if you were crazy, as if you had grown an extra head or something. His arms were crossed and he continued to stare at you. Should you have done that? Could you trust him? Well, he did owe you his life. If things really came down to it, you could have him arrested again and beheaded. Play the victim, call guards, and make up some lie that he attacked you, but you really really didn’t want it to go like that… Finally, after a few seconds, he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle, as if he couldn’t even believe it. “Hold on, let me get this straight: You’re not royalty, but you’re a criminal from another world? Did you hit your head or something?”

You knew it. He wouldn’t believe you after all.

“I mean, they keep saying this Ellis loser came from another world too… So… Maybe your story doesn’t sound too crazy after all.” His scarlet eyes focused on the floor, as if considering something. “You really weren’t lying about knowing the future. And I thought you had gone mad or something! So I’m a hero in the story?”

You could only scratch your arm nervously, a bit regretful for having to crush his sudden burst of excitement. “Ahaha… not exactly? I made that part up…”

Disappointed at the revelation that he wasn’t some badass hero wielding a legendary sword, he scoffed, “Seriously? So why save me then?”

“Look…” You took a deep breath, hiding your fidgeting fingers in your palm as best as you could. “We were both supposed to die. At least my character was mentioned in the story, but you? Y-You weren’t even mentioned at all…! You were just a nameless faceless soldier, someone not even worth mentioning––”

Offended, he snapped back, “Faceless? Rude much!”

You quickly shushed him, internally freaking out at the prospect that you may have been overheard. But when nothing else and no one else stirred, you frowned and muttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really nervous… I guess what I’m trying to get at here is… why don’t we both help each other survive?”

“What?” Shaking his head in disbelief. First this person called him someone not even worth mentioning then they ask for his help? Seriously, what was with them?

“T-Think about it…! I’m the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom…! I know what will happen! Kinda…”

“Well, I do want to live just as badly as you do…” It appeared he was still on the fence. Leaning his weight against the wall, he demanded, “But what do you mean you kinda know what will happen? I thought you, for sure, know.”

“Um…” Twiddling your fingers, you hesitantly explained the dilemma, “I did mention we were both supposed to die… And while that part isn’t a lie and the whole you being the destined one to stop Ellis was a lie, the other thing I didn’t lie about was Ellis gathering with his allies to infiltrate the palace and acquire the sword to kill the Jabberwocky. That will actually happen. S-So, since I told everyone that––”

“Let me guess, you told it early?”

Freezing, you gazed up at him and murmured, “H-How did you��?”

He shrugged, “I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. That means a higher chance of survival, right? Assuming that the blonde is the good guy and our king Rosehearts is the bad guy of the story. And considering all that, now you have no idea how the story will be affected, right?”

“R-Right…” Wait, now it just looked like you were useless! Immediately interjecting, you added, “But I can still make predictions based on what I know, like how things were originally supposed to play out…!”

“And you are still technically a royal…” Ace placed a finger to his chin, probably thinking about possible outcomes, upsides, and downsides if he agreed to work together. Finally, when his gaze flittered back to you and you stood upright, he questioned, “What if things don’t go how we–– you plan?”

You actually considered this briefly. If everything came crumbling down and all plans failed, there was but one last option to avoid any punishment. “Find Ellis and the White Queen… or is it the White King? I-It doesn’t matter…! The point is, the White Royal is very kind and merciful. If I go to them and explain that I am not really the Red King’s consort, then they’ll spare me…! If you come too and bring the sword to slay the Jabberwocky, that will assure them of our good intentions!”

“Isn’t that just running away? I don’t want to do that. And come on, the Whites? Are you for real? I thought us Reds were bad, but those pristine prissy little killjoys are no fun.”

For a second you wanted to strangle him. What kind of idiot would risk certain death by staying here if everything goes south, instead of fleeing to a good place that would grant you sanctuary? “It’s exactly running away, that’s the point…! The point is to stay alive!”

The redhead tilted his head to the side, his disappointed and serious behavior disappearing as he grinned. “What if I became king?”

Now it was your turn to look at him as if he were the insane one. Was this knight actually the mad hatter that had been driven insane by mercury poisoning?

“I do owe you one for saving my neck back there. And I won’t lie, I’ve dreamed about being king one day. And you, you’re actually way more ruthless than you seem at first. I thought you were a scared little wimp that always cowers behind their little hubby husband.” He mocked. Ouch. He thought you were a wimp…? “But turns out, I was so wrong about you. Sounds like you’re willing to do whatever it takes to live another day. Even turn on your own husband!”

He was whisper yelling, and it was starting to make you anxious that someone would overhear. So you whisper yelled back at a lower volume, “S-Stop that…! You know the truth, he’s not really my husband…”

That smirk made you think that he was going to respond in a louder voice, but thankfully he wasn’t that stupid. Just stupid enough to plan to overthrow the bloody Red King and talk about it in his own palace. But maybe you were stupid too, for talking about such delicate matters in the palace halls. Ace took your hands and performed a mock bow. “No running away, you got it? I’ll take that tiny red punk’s crown and become king, then I’ll keep you as a royal beside me, it’s the least I can do after what you did. We’ll both not only survive, but thrive. What do you say, Your Majesty~?”

[vryfmi]

silent boy theory

bringing this theory back because ive been rotating it nonstop

[mild book spoilers!]

skull is characterised by his voice and snarky comments that Lucy has to put up with during their conversations, as well as the whispering tone which is heavily emphasised throughout the series. so when Dulac references to Bickerstaff's servant boy (aka skull) as "that silent Boy" in her confessions it really clashes with skull's personality as we know it.

TL;DR: my theory is that skull was mute or on a verge of losing his voice due to sickness, caused by working conditions and Bickerstaff's abandonment. thus, his ghost can't recall his healthy voice and can only whisper.

[id from alt text: a photo of the passage from the book with line "that silent Boy" being emphasised by image's dimensions./end id]

firstly, it's the whispering skull. not quietly talking skull, not its-voice-sounds-far-away skull. whispering.

‘Because you sure as hell look it.’ It was the lowest, throatiest of whispers; alien, but familiar. I’d heard it once before. (TWS) The hoarse whisper came from somewhere close behind my ear. ‘I say stab them first, ask questions later! That’s your only sensible option.’ (THB)

argument could be made, that silver-glass muffles the voice and it becomes quieter. but here's a thing - whisper is a voice alteration, not a sound quality. when whispering, vocal cords don't vibrate, and produced speech has a different phonation. so whisper and quiet speech are technically two different things.

secondly, skull's work field and conditions. as a young servant, skull was able to see visitors and ward them off Bickerstaff and his master's friends, while they were robbing graves for potential sources. ghosts radiate cold, temperature can drop down to 5 degrees centigrade, that much we know from books, that's why agents are wearing jackets and gloves during ghost hunting cases. and skull's ghost was described as wearing only a shirt and ill fitting trousers, while also being barefooted.

It was the first time I’d ever really looked at him, at the spirit that he truly was. He wore a white shirt and gray trousers that were slightly too short for his bony legs. His feet were bare. He’d still been young when he died. (TEG)

with Bickerstaff's obsession and apparent blindness to anything else that wasn't his device, it's safe to say that he would neglect skull's needs and didn't bother to get his servant any proper clothes, not to mention shoes, which at the time were expensive, since children constantly need shoes as they grow up, and it wasn't uncommon for children from lower class to not have shoes at all and walk barefooted.

that said, my theory is that skull came down with sickness while grave robbing, and Bickerstaff ignored it (mainly because he was a psych doctor, not a medical one), skull's condition worsened and turned into laryngitis. without treatment, his vocal cords got damaged, resulting in loss of voice.

[now, im in no way educated to diagnose a fictional character and there can be mistakes in my logic (like how skull could have lost his voice prior to Bickerstaff), but i went down a rabbit hole and need to share this.]

there's a condition that fits the description of person losing their voice or only be able to talk in whisper, it's called aphonia. there are multiple common causations for this condition, namely psychological, but organic aphonia is caused by damage on vocal cords or throat, that could have happened due to disease or physical trauma. (source)

it's also worth pointing out that any voice disorders in children and teenagers affects the way they socialise and behave. gestures and facial expressions become alternative to communication when voice is too weak for speech or it is painful to talk.

Someone had knocked the cloth off the ghost-jar, and the face had re-materialized. It pulled extravagant expressions of horror and disgust whenever I passed by. (TWS)

‘You know the rules: minimal manifestations, no rude faces, and absolutely no talking.’ The ghost looked wounded. ‘I wasn’t talking, was I? Do you call this talking? Or this?’ It pulled a rapid series of grotesque expressions, each one worse than the last. (THB)

and finally, Lucy. she almost undeniably plays a role of interpretor that passes down what skull says, since others have no way of communicating with him or, more specifically, no way of hearing him. it all does seem to fit perfectly together (at least to me) so i can't stop wondering of how intentional any of that was on Stroud's behalf. then yet again, Stroud did say that that he had a draft for skull's backstory but scraped it in favour of keeping his character as mysterious as possible. some elements could've stayed in the final version of the books, who knows.

[burntblueberrywaffles]

The Snowbaird fanfic rec list!

As usual, if anyone is interested in joining the snowbaird discord, just shoot me a dm for an invite!

Before we start, some notes:

As we all know Snowbaird is fucked up and toxic 😌😌 but there are;;; levels to it so for easy navigation I have color coded this fic rec! Blue is for fics that are less toxic (now that doesn’t necessarily mean there’s NO toxicity but it definitely stands on the sweeter side of the Snowbaird spectrum) whereas red stand for "god these fucked up bitches 😍😍" (though for me a big no no is loveless Snowbaird, so even the more toxic fics in this list they do love each other!) - Ive also added an orange category for the mid level fics/ones where I couldn’t quite decide where they would rank- still, do keep in mind that those rankings are based on my personal judgement (plus I’m going off memory for some of the fics) so they may not be fully accurate.

Im also adding a "heavy smut" mention to some of these fic - that means the smut takes center stage in the fic and is pretty much unavoidable to properly read the story, a lot of the other fics on this list will still contain smut, but to a lesser extent/in a way where it’s not an integral part of the plot - remember to read the tags and curate your reading experience!

Sadly several of these are incomplete - I have added a mention of when the last update was posted as of today (april 22, 2024)!

Anyways, now that all of that is out of the way, here are the recs!

Capitol AUs

Helpless, Tender, Open by perfectlystill

When his heartbeat stutters beneath her touch, when his mouth falls open, breathing heavy, Lucy Gray pops open her clutch. She’s the one pouring antidote down his throat.

Complete

if i'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? by eecwritess

It had been fifteen years since Lucy Gray Baird had escaped Coriolanus Snow at the cabin in District Twelve. But now, she had been captured. Brought back to the Capitol after all these years to be punished as a Rebel. But President Snow...well, he has offered to save her. Under one condition.

Heavy smut - complete

Songbirds, Snakes, and Wedding Rings by celestscrystal

“Even she can’t charm your way out of that predicament.” Dr. Gaul taunted. He was losing her. He could already see the disinterest in her eyes. Highbottom had been long gone, his plans at sabotage were shattered, now he was just waiting to leave. Coriolanus had to make this work. His Lucy Gray must be kept alive. He had one final idea to convince them. It was his most dangerous idea yet. “I could marry her.” In which Coriolanus was never sent to district 12 and instead got away with a slap on the wrist. However, Lucy Gray would not be granted the same fate. In order to save her, Coriolanus marries her. Clashes ensue in a tale of enemies, passion, and lovers. Updates every Saturday/Sunday!

Incomplete but is getting weekly updates! I really love this one :D

Burn by vvitchimage

Life in the wilderness is harsher than Lucy Gray Baird had imagined. Sick and almost dead, she's forced to return home to the only person capable of taking care of her.

vvitchimage is definitely one of my favourite Snowbaird authors so you will see more of her works down this list; the way she writes the toxicity is just chefs kiss 🤌 Heavy smut - complete

Safe and close at hand by framboise

In which Coriolanus Snow is handsomely rewarded for his tribute winning the Games and in turn handsomely rewards his prize, Lucy Gray, herself. He's gone solemn now in the afterglow, serious. He cares for his own, Snow, she sees that with his family, and now she is one of them. Not his family, but something he owns. His prize, his ward, his girl. Is she to be his mistress then? she thinks hazily as she slips towards sleep. Is that the future for her? To escape from the viper's den into the viper's mansion? She shivers and he drags her closer, one large hand tucked around her hip. Well, she can't escape now even if she wants to, she thinks, sinking into the softness of the plush mattress, burrowing back into the heat and warmth of her jailor.

complete

the girl and the prize by merkstave

In Lucy Gray’s defense, it was never supposed to go down like this anyway. She was just supposed to seduce him, to weasel herself into the snake pit that was Coriolanus’ bed so that he’d keep her around long enough for her to formulate an escape plan. She’d meet with Highbottom and he’d help her like he said he would after she was crowned victor and she’d be back to being a faceless girl amongst the cover of the districts. She just had to say the word and the dean of Heavensbee Academy would make her disappear. She’d be back to singing in bars in no time, back to her old life on the run. That had been nine months ago. And here she was, in her warden’s bed, naked and with his cum stuck to her inner thighs. +++ Lucy Gray is given to Coriolanus as his ward after the games. It's supposed to be a temporary arrangement, nothing more than means to an end. However, nothing is ever easy, especially at the hands of a Snow.

Sadly incomplete but the 4 chapters we did get are SO!!! Truly the delicious kind of toxicity 🤌🤌 (last updated: Jan 15, 2024)

All Of That Ultraviolence by ggs_29

He was well dressed in a suit that fit, hair combed back, still just as handsome as before, if not more so. A full pantry suited him well, helping him to fill out the spaces that were too thin on his figure, and building up the hard earned muscles of his peacekeeping stint. Today, he sits behind his desk in a fine dress shirt, a button undone on top, and his cuffs rolled up his muscular arms. Lucy remembers Barb Azure’s old tales, about a pagan creature from a time before Panem, a fallen angel; the most beautiful of them all, but so easy to succumb to the temptation of power and glory; “ You can leave us now, Heavensbee.” Coriolanus says, holding his gaze on her, and his eyes are dark, predatory. Fuck. “Of course Mr. President; Madame Snow.” Hilarius shoots her a look filled to the brim with trepidation, and suddenly, she is back there again, paralyzed with fear. A girl of six and ten whose name had just been reaped. They’d been found out.

heavy smut - complete

Peacekeeper Coryo AUs

This Little Life of Ours by voiceinthecrowd

"I'll sing for you soon," she promises, hand threading through blonde curls. “I’ll write you into all my songs." “Maybe even write a Ballad of Coriolanus Snow”, she whispers, gasping as her boy manages to pull her even closer. It isn't the immortality he's been looking for. It certainly isn't the marble presidential busts he tells her about when they both can't sleep; how their stony eyes would bore into the souls of passing Capitol children; a young, hungry boy in Academy rouge. But presidents die and statues crumble. Coryo might not know it yet, but it’s stories and songs that persist. His ancient heroes and her whispered poems. They’re all stories, and Lucy Gray is determined to give Coryo the greatest story of them all. He’ll understand, one day. She’ll make it up to him, the dreams he’s left behind for her. He hasn't lost everything in Twelve. Lucy Gray will prove it. In which Lucy Gray stays for Coriolanus, and Coriolanus stays for Lucy Gray.

foaming at the mouth over this fic. complete

i wouldn’t mind the hanging, but the laying in the grave so long by rainfrog

He’s a Peacekeeper since the beginning. And she’s still that Covey girl who falls in love.

SO GOOD; this fic is 2,4k words long and NOT ONE OF THEM IS WASTED truly so many excellent lines in there 💯💯 - complete

Deal with the Devil by vvitchimage

Lucy Gray had lived in the cabin for months after her falling out with Coriolanus Snow. When spring comes, he returns to take over Hoff's place in the Peacekeepers. The day she's found, Lucy Gray has to strike a deal with the devil.

Heavy smut - incomplete but is still being updated! (last update april 18, 2024)

persimmons and soup beans by kayladevitoo

Coriolanus Snow moved up in the Peacekeeper ranks in District 12, becoming an officer. He shares breakfast with Lucy Gray after a night shift — soup beans and a persimmon.

short and sweet - complete

Chaos and control by Anonymous

Her name was Lucy Gray Baird, and she and her group were called the Covey. Technically, they weren't from the Districts; as it turned out, they were a group of traveling musicians who got stuck in the Twelfth when inter-District travel was banned. This somehow reassured him – that she wasn't from the Districts, that he hadn't gone crazy falling for a girl from the Districts – she wasn't one of those responsible for the war. So he no longer felt guilty about his dreams, sometimes strange, sometimes blatantly indecent, in which she was always the main character. 18 years old Coriolanus Snow, an orphan, who lost his mother, his father and grandmother during the war now is a Cadet Peacekeeper in the District 12, preparing to become an officer. Here he meets the most beautiful girl in the world

This fic is not as Snowbaird centric as the rest of this list, but god is it fantastic. This Anonymous author is simply incredible 💯 - complete

Modern AUs

Free Ride by betts

“Does Lucy Gray like you back?” Tigris asked. Coriolanus hadn’t actually considered that. He’d just assumed she didn’t and never would. He’d grown up with anything he could ever want given to him instantly, but now everything he wanted was impossibly far out of reach. Lucy Gray was no exception. Or: Coriolanus is a full-time university student, restaurant server, administrative assistant, and on the weekends he cleans and presses gowns. Occasionally he sleeps. So he really doesn't have time to be giving the weird bartender a ride home every night. And he definitely doesn't have time to become obsessed with her.

having really enjoyed Betts' Anidala fic Lemon, I knew we were in for a treat when i recognized her in the Snowbaird tag AND I WAS RIGHT, such an amazing take on modern!coryo - complete

I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose by fkevin073

Their lips slide together, then their tongues curl and she moans, a light, heady thing, come alight with the realization that she is finally, finally home. It’s tender at first, but at the sound of her moan Coriolanus grabs her chin in between his fingers and plunders her mouth harshly. As if this is a punishment. You left me, every kiss he gives her, takes from her, breathes. You left me. And Lucy Gray— Well. For her this isn’t a punishment at all. Or: Lucy Gray and Coriolanus can't seem to let each other go.

THIS IS SO!!!!! see this is the kind of ploltline I might not love in other circumstances, but THE WRITING IS SO INCREDIBLE that it just hits - complete

when the sun goes down by astradeluna

small-town girl lucy gray baird moves from district twelve to the capitol to attend the university to study music. this is her first time leaving home and although the prospect of starting over is terrifying, she’s still excited to make the most out of the opportunity. that being said, after a shitty breakup with her shitty ex, the last thing she wants is to meet someone, but then she crosses paths with coriolanus snow, an arrogant but ambitious government major, who seems to get under her skin with ease and he brings out a part of herself that she never knew existed

incomplete and the story hadn’t gotten to much development in the relationship yet but GOD I still need to put this here bc THE WAY the dynamics were so perfectly transcribed to this modern setting were just chefs kiss. Forever hoping this fic will return from war and get an update 🙏🙏 (last updated: Dec 20, 2023)

Other

Your Selfish Ways by thpsyche

Ten years since her disappearance from District 12 Lucy Gray decides it’s time to return, finding a shelter and a silent life. All would be well if it weren’t for the mysterious encounters of a man cloaked in darkness. A deal is struck, twice a month she would give up to him in return for his silence of her existence. Only one condition: she’s to not ask or look at him. - For the snowbaird week 2024| Day 2 – Myth.

GOD THIS FUCKING FIC - IM FUCKING OBSESSED WITH IT;;; EROS AND PSYCHE INSPIRED AU MY BELOVED - I have reread many times;;; if you see a thumbs up crying cat pfp going insane in the comments that would be me;;;; I am not normal about this 🙈 - complete

doomsday is close at hand by fkevin073

But on the first train of her nineteenth year, as the snows settle on the ground and ice curls in their lungs, something new comes with the train to arrive in District 12. A man by the name of Coriolanus Snow. (But Lucy Gray doesn’t find that out until later, of course) - Or: Coriolanus Snow arrives in District 12, and finds his very own songbird, ready to break free.

incomplete but according to @fkevin073 's tumblr it is not abandoned and she has just been busy;;; truly such a good fic I love it sm (last updated feb 14, 2024)

When I'm Pure Like a Dove, When I've Learned How to Love by Realmermaid333

Lucy Gray and Coriolanus bask in sunlight by the edge of the lake, enjoying each other's presence and calming each other's fears.

Short and sweet - the kind of softness we need more of for Snowbaird 🥺🥺🥺 - Complete

Saving Each Other by flipflop_diva

Lucy Gray had already accepted that she was going to die here in the arena, that sometime in the next few days she would meet her end. But then something else happened — and now there were two of them to carry on the fight. (An AU in which Coriolanus goes to save Sejanus and doesn't escape the arena.)

complete

Silent songbird by KitKatKatherine

Coriolanus Snow thought he knew everything that had happened to him these last few months. Lucy left him, he got into the academy, and Gaul was overseeing his studies. It’s not until he wakes up in the hospital and experiences a rather concerning conversation that he questions everything he once thought to be solid, reason logic. Vowing to never once again help Gaul, and capital be damned, he turns his charms on his own people, and becomes their worst nightmare.

Now, this fic does get quite dark; the author gives trigger warning on specific chapters but if you would like to be warned before getting any investment in the fic, feel free to dm me for details ❤️ - that said, it’s a great fic, I thought the take on disability was lovely and the way it portrayed Coriolanus realizing how rotten the system is and redeeming himself was great; incomplete but worth a read (last updated: Jan 13, 2024)

This is Not a Love Song by FrostedGemstones22

Lucy Gray and Coriolanus never go to the cabin, so they never find the guns. They decide to travel together, but Lucy Gray isn't so easily fooled. Truth is; he needs her, and she needs him. Common ground has to be found somewhere. Speculation about if they traveled up to find District 13.

THIS FIC IS SO EXCELLENT and definetely the best take I have seen on a district 13 AU - incomplete but absolutely worth reading (last updated: Jan 22, 2024)

in the woods somewhere by OfPearlsAndSunsets

Sejanus. She must have figured out that Sejanus was the third person Coriolanus had killed. She wouldn’t have known the particulars, but surely she could have pieced it all together. Still, to think he’d kill her? After everything they’d been through? He looked down at the loaded gun in his hands. Maybe he should have left it in the shed. It's as if he was hunting her. He thought about the knife and how it paled in comparison to the weapon he was carrying. What are you doing, Coriolanus? Something inside of him asks, and then demands. Put it down. He does.

Complete

Monster by Lululemonee

Coriolanus Snow if given both a gift and a curse when he meets his tribute for the 10th Hunger Games. She changed his life in ways which he never could have imagined. She's a dream and a nightmare rolled into one. And she is keeping him with her for the ride. I am very bad at summaries. This was inspired but the music video for "Scars" by Hazey Eyes which stars Tom Blyth and is sooooo good.

Complete

Deep in the Meadow by vvitchimage

Lucy Gray's reunion with Coriolanus in the meadow ends with him protecting her from her jilted ex.

Heavy smut - complete

BONUS:

Two different tribute!Coryo AUs! Are they Snowbaird centered? Not at all, there’s only a few crumbs if you squint BUT they slap SO HARD I truly recommend! (both are complete)

for cassius, no one wept by marianara_sauce

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" "Where else would we start?" She grins at him, rouge cheeks almost glowing. "Stories can start in all kinds of places. They can go in any kind of order, too. Just like songs." He watches her carefully, this relentlessly bright girl no longer in her rainbow dress. His eyes glance down to the form, blank spaces taking over most of the page. Name. District. Age. Family. It's not necessarily chronological. But her dark eyes don't look away from him, even as her grin softens. "Alright," he says. He steeples his hands together, and the chains rattle. "I'm Coriolanus Snow. District 12." (Or, the world in which Snow is a tribute instead of a mentor.)

Hail Panem by Anonymous

"Hail Panem! Those marching to their death salute you!" AU where Coriolanus Snow is a tribute from District Twelve who takes part in the Hunger Games

And that is all! There are a lot of other lovely Snowbaird fics of course but I tried focusing on my absolute favourites ❤️

Do let me know if you liked the list and if you’re a fan of any of these fic feel free to come scream about it with me!

+ Once again noting that my DMs are wide open to anyone wanting to join the Snowbaird discord! It is genuinely an online space I love and I’m always happy to meet more shippers 🫶🫶

[pastadoughie]

MY NAME IS SPELLED WITF AN E AND NOT AN A get it RIGHT!!

hai! im rowen (he/him) and i draw thingse soemtimze!! im a queer (trans, intersex, gay) old furry artist :3 u probably know my blog for drawing many many silly kitties and miscilanious creechers, but i do other things!

i do requests (no ocs or fandom shit, ONLY silly) and i take commisions (i am working on a website to organize all the prices and stuff, but for now, just dm me if youre intrested)

i do all my art on mspaint (win10 ver.) unless explicitly stated otherwise, i just use the default pencil tool on 4px (the largest default size setting) witch is a round brush with no antialiasing

i use a drawing tablet, the XP-Pen Deco 1 V2 (Celeste, He/Him), and an ASUS Harman/Kardon i7 14.5 In. laptop (Chelsea, She/Her)

my blog mostly runs on a queue, witch is very long and only goes onse a day, so sometimes extremeley old artwork gets posted. for this reason posts that are recently posted are not nessasarily recently drawn. furthermore, asks sometimes take an extremely long time to post after ive actually answered them, so please dont resubmit things. (+ i have far too many askse to actually be able to answer them all. so asks that are very similar to things ive already answered, are extremely time consuming, or are just not that funny, are unlikely to ever be answered)

rebeast : is for reblogs of other peoples content

rowencatfanart : is for fanart people have made for me (if you make any please tag it as such, as well as mention me in the post)

the beast speaks : is for all my original text posts

retchid opinions : are for my own text posts where i actually say things of value and have an opinion on topics

screaming and scampering : is for when i say bullshit that doesnt matter

consulting thea council : is for polls of mine

rowens serious art : is for serious rendered art of mine

rowens liddol guys : is for sillies of all kinds that ive made

biblically accurate rowen : is for art of non-kitty me, for blacklisting purposes (i like to not be reminded i am a person when im scrolling thru my own blog) mspaint animations : for when i animate things on mspaint (onion skin is for cowards i let my heart guide me) rowens animatics : are for when i make, animatics, its really self explainatory. rowens advertising : is for when i advertise my products or twitch or commisions or whatever. for blacklisting purposes the mewsifixtion : is for when i give out easter eggs 2 ppl who send me asks. asks for this are currently CLOSED rowensumptions : are for when ppl send me headcannons they have abt me thru asks S teir wimpering : for the text postre ive made that r actualey funny rows gross old ort : for when i reblog old art of mine nyanportant : for reblawging / posting any asks or fundraisorsz, i try 2 vett things b4hand as well as not post 2 many @ the same time i tag all asks with the username of the person who asked them, so if u want to find a previous ask of yours i answered you can just search your own username i also try to tag asks i answer with the date of when they were sent to me, and the date i actually drew them, because the queue can make this confusing,,, i cant really retroactively see the send date of posts i made before this tagging change, so some we will simpley nevr know,,, dates are written in american date format. so month-day-year i always tag the software i use for each artwork, but its pretty much always MSPaint (Win10), though i occasionally do image editing in Asesprite

the gray and white kitty i draw most frequently is my catsona! he is not an oc and is specifically meant to represent me

i ask that you please do not use drawings of him as personal branding (such as pfps, banners, avatars, ect.)

the samething applies to my fursona, valentine, though his design changes too much to give an accurate ref for, i generally will specify in the tags

u can find me on tumblr (duh) : @pastadoughie : my main @leftoverdough : is my reblog sideblog @scungledfiles : is the web graphics blog i run w/ my friend (@soggiedsocks) (though we havent been as active as of late cuz mentol ealness + i have been fopcusing moar on this blog) youtube : pastadoughie (i havent posted in 6 months ouhm, oops,) twitch : pastadoughie etsy : scungledthings (i also share this with @soggiedsocks, when contacting my shop you will most likely be talking to him and not me.) if you would like to contact me FOR COMMISIONS directly you can also do so discord : pastadough email : pastadough01@gmail.com PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ONLY BUISNESS INQUIRIES!! stupid shit should be sent via ask or tumblr dm. DO NOT FLOOD MY EMAIL!! i WILL block you!! --- Last Updated : 5-1-2024

[propertyofwicked]

people watching | spencer reid

spencer reid x bau!reader

inspo - people watching by conan gray

2.3k words

warnings: none really - canon character death, angst to comfort :)

they're counting months they've been together, almost 49

“y/n - how long have you worked with the BAU?” morgan asked, shooting you a smirk as you threw your head backwards with a load groan. 

“i don’t know? like, 4 years?”

“4 years, and 34 days, 2 hours and based on when we got called out for your first case, 34 minutes,” reid interjects the conversation without looking up from his file. 

“for someone who has worked here for 4 years, wouldn’t one assume that you would know we never get a whole week without a case?” morgan continued, ignoring reid’s comment, chuckling slightly at the face you pulled. you knew he was right, but something about garcia announcing there’s a new case made you grumpy. as a result you simply whined in response and pushed yourself up to walk to the round table room. morgan and jj walked ahead, but spencer stayed back to walk by your side. 

“hey, that made me realise we’ve been friends for 4 years - we should celebrate!” he said, not looking at you but carrying a smile on his face. 

“depending on the case, maybe we could do movie night when we get back?” you responded, but unlike him, you turned your head to respond to him. 

“that sounds good, did you know research has shown that spending time with loved ones, even doing something as mundane as watching a film, can increase your mental wellbeing?” this time he looked at you to respond, the smile still present on his face.

“so spending time with me is mundane?” you quipped, chuckling at the end of your sentence, so he’d know you were only messing. 

“reid, y/n, thanks for finally joining us,” hotch’s voice sounded across the room.

“sorry dad,” spencer joked, taking his seat next to alex.

they met in class for metaphysical philosophy

he tells his friends, "i like her 'cause she's so much smarter than me" 

they're having talks about their futures until 4:00 a.m

“hey spence?” you asked, filling the silence. the film you had been watching ending a while ago, but the two of you stayed sat on his sofa. at some point you had turned to face him, stretching across the chair with your legs over his. he didn’t mind - he compared it to the calming effects of a weighted blanket, rattling off the statistical benefits on anxiety. 

“yeah?” he looked up from his book, with a soft gaze in his eyes. 

“if you weren’t in the bau, what would you be doing right now?”

he paused for a moment, as if to think about his answer.

“i honestly don’t know. i don’t think i knew before i joined the bau either. had i not joined the fbi when i did, i think i’d still be in college just collecting degrees until i’d done them all,” he laughed to himself, “maybe a professor, i have taught a few classes.”

“i know - that’s how we met. you told that god awful joke about a horse who became hyper aware of his own reality.”

“hey! it wasn’t that bad.”

“spence - no one laughed.”

“you did.”

“and i regret that decision almost daily,” you respond, earning a light smack to the shin that was still thrown other his lap. 

“what about you? what would you be doing?”

“i used to think id be married by now but we both know how that ended,” you mention, referencing the ex boyfriend you and spencer both hated, “honestly though, i think id still be in the FBI but with counter intelligence like i had originally planned.”

“im glad you’re not,” he said with a smile. did he mean married or in a different department? you felt safer assuming the latter - it was safer to than getting your hopes up that some feelings might be reciprocated. so for now, you simply hummed in response and allowed the room to fall back into a comfortable silence. 

im only looking just to live through you vicariously ive never really been in love, not seriously

it was clear you had been mistaken, and in the most cruel and soul destroying way - through no fault but your own. he was happy, you could see. the way he no longer had bags living permanently under his eyes - he was sleeping. he’d sneak away to the payphone, assuming no one noticed. it started off serious, like he was only asking the other person direct questions. it didn’t stay that way. soon enough you found yourself sitting in the SUV, staring at him as he laughed into the phone, basically twirling the wire around his finger like a giddy teenage girl. spencer wasn’t yours anymore. you know he never was yours really, but still you held out hope that the lasting glances, the jokes, the comfort and the spontaneous movies nights meant something more to him. it was clear you had been mistaken. 

“you know if you keep staring at him like that your eyes might dry up,” JJ spoke from besides you one day. it made you jump - you hadn’t realised she was stood next to you and you certainly didn’t know how long she’d witnessed you staring at the side of spencer’s faces as he laughed and smiled over the phone. 

“i wasn’t staring,” you defended, but she gave you a look that said she knew you were lying, so you moved on, “who’s he talking to anyway?”

“we don’t know, but morgan and i think spencies got a girlfriend,” she taunted. you didn’t react, this wasn’t news to you - it didn’t take a profiler to work that out. jj didn’t say anything else, she just adjusted the strap of her bag and walked off to find hotch. eventually spencer put the phone down and walked over to you.

“hey you guys find anything?” he asked, it was a general question but it was clearly aimed at you. 

“nothing yet from me, garcia’s still digging stuff up on the victim though. it’s clear the unsub is organised, he’s been disposing these bodies for years, concealing their identities and he’s never been caught.” concealing their identities, you should know all about that reid, you thought to yourself but didn’t allow your face to waver.

“did you know that despite the rich history in the town, only 2,000 visit the area per year on average?”

“i didn’t, no.” it was a blunt response but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. but of course he did, mr 187 who couldn’t gauge most social cues but could tell when you were off with him. it wasn’t fair. how he could act like he loved you still, even though he clearly had someone worth keeping secret in his life. 

his hand reached up to rest on your shoulder, his tall frame towering over you, giving you an intense stare as he did.

“what’s up?” damn you and your profiling skills. you contemplated saying nothing, but that would only lead to more intense questioning, so you deflected, saying you were thinking about the profile. he seemed satisfied and left you to find hotch, just as jj had. 

cut people out like tags on my clothing i end up all alone but i still keep hoping

maeve was gone. that was her name, that was the woman that had made spencer happy in a way you couldn’t. she was gone, and emotionally, so was spencer. for weeks he moped, refusing to leave his apartment. but he was still your best friend. everyday, you sent him a message asking if he was ok, or needed anything, and everyday, it was left on read. whilst he needed his space, it wasn’t in your good conscience to leave him without support. 

walking up to his door was terrifying. why? you had been here thousands of times, spent hundreds of hours watching films on his sofa and yet your heart was beating so fast you felt as though it would tear through your ribcage and fall out on the floor in front of you. if spencer was here, he’d tell you that wasn’t physically possible and you’d more likely have a heart attack. he’d then reassure you by noting the statistical unlikeliness of having you having a heart attack. but he wasn’t, emotionally anyways. you knocked twice.

“go away garcia, i really appreciate everything you’ve done but please leave,” you heard him shout through the door. it was his voice alright, but deep and strained as if he had been crying for weeks - on second thought, he probably had.

“it’s me spence, not penelope. can you let me in?” you called back.

“no. please, i need some space.” ok, if that’s how he wanted to play it, tough love it was. 

“spencer reid if you do not open this door within the next ten seconds i will have morgan kick it down.” it seemed to work, you could hear a muffled sound of him standing up, shuffling across the floor and undoing the latch. you were not expecting the sight you saw when the door opened - it made your heart shred into tiny little pieces that you wanted to sew together and give to him. his hair was greasy, his facial hair had grown more than you’d ever seen it but worst of all, his skin was pale and his face seemed almost a hollow shell of the spencer you knew and loved.

“what do you want y/n?” he grumbled.

“i wanted to check in on you?” suddenly any tough love had gone out the window, and you doubted every word you said to him.

“ok, well im alive. you can go now.”

“spence ple-”

“i said i’m fine. y/n, i know you want me to sort myself out but im not ready to. please leave.”

“i don’t want you to ‘sort yourself out’ spence,” you paused to breathe, “you need to grieve, i understand that but i need you to look after yourself. however, you clearly don’t need me, you’re clearly coping so well on your own.” sarcasm was a defence mechanism - seeing him like that hurt you down to your very core, but they way he was treating you wasn’t fair. you turned on your heal, intending to leave with your dignity mostly intact, but as you go to take your first step a hand grabs you wrist, stopping you from moving.

“y/n, im sorry, please come in.” you offered him a restricted smile and stepped into this apartment, he followed close behind. you were expecting the worst, but this took it to another level. the curtains were drawn closed, takeout containers littered the counter, the floor and the coffee table - at least he was eating. spencer moved to the sofa, shoving books to the floor and offering you a seat. 

“talk to me spence, tell me everything going on in that big brain of yours.” and he did, you must’ve sat there for 2 hours as he told you about maeve, how he first contacted her, how she understood him, the way she laughed. he spoke about guilt, he believed it was his fault and that he’d never be able to forgive himself. only towards the end did he begin to cry, so you wrapped you arms around his torso and pulled him down to rest on your shoulder. to your surprise, his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight. the room fell into silence, as it had hundreds of time, but this one was not one of comfort as it usually was. 

after some time he sat up, “you know, IQ has no effect on the size of your brain. it may be cause a change in external appearance but the size itself will not change.” you couldn’t help but laugh - it wasn’t condescending, just the mere fact that he had spent two hours talking but still remembered to correct your original statement.

i wanna feel all that love and emotion be that attached to the person i'm holding

years passed since that day at spencer’s apartment. it took him a few more weeks, but he returned to work and returned to his normal self. he no longer thought of maeve, he thought of the future, he moved on in life whilst still holding a spot in his heart for her. soon, he became your best friend again - movie nights and take out were reinstated. sometimes he had to beg you to come round after a case to watch a movie. he remembered what life was like. 

that night was a night like many others. the credits rolled and the room became dark with no light blaring from the screen. silence. a comfortable one. tonight, you found yourself with your head laying on his lap, facing the tv, his arm rested on your hip and his fingers played with a hair tie absentmindedly. you said it was comfortable, he didn’t argue - spencer liked your presence. he appreciated you being in his life and never giving up on him. he admired your work ethic, and your friendship. you provided him an outlet, an escape from the stress and constant work.

“hey y/n,” he whispered, and you hummed in response, “i love you.”

“i love you too spencer.” your heart skipped a beat, but you knew he meant as friends, that’s all you were and all you’d ever be - you had grown to accept that. 

“no, y/n, i love you.” this made your head turn and you rolled onto your back to look up at him. “i mean it. i think i always knew deep down, but i couldn’t establish that that was what i was thinking. did you know studies show that some people have to feel love in order to love?”

“i love you too spencer.” you smiled up at him, squinting through your tired eyes, and his hand came down to stroke your cheek softly. 

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

unpopular(ish) tig opinions/mostly just me ranting

a few people have done this so here are mine (also just me ranting)

this one isn't super controversial but i don't really like alisa. she's nice and all, but the way she treats libby is just so weird to me and i can't bring myself to love her.

most people in this fandom are grayson stans but my fav is jameson. i love grayson, don't get me wrong, but i feel like his character is sort of overdone. i mean, almost all love interests nowadays are moody, broody, i never smile except when im with you. im happy avery ended up with jamie not just cause they fit together, but bc, for once, the love interest isn't the broody type (like i said, love grayson dont hate me)

i commented this under a post, and i don't think this is super unpopular but im lyra neutral. i literally cannot love a character unless i know them (i dont hate her either, i just don't have an opinion)

ok, this one might get me some hate, but, although grayson had the right to be mad in tig bc avery inherited the money, i do think he did go too far sometimes. there's this one time, where he was just unnecessarily rude to avery, telling her she didn't know what it was like to suffer (midway through to book, don't remember the chapter but its there and it makes no sense bc she grew up with no money while this dude is a privileged white man, like all of his brothers (except for xander cause he isn't white)). like i said, he had the right to be mad, but avery did nothing to him, and, so, he had no right to say some of the things he said to her. he does get better, and he does apologize (i think, but even if he doesn't idc cause hes nice to her now). like i said, he had the right to be mad cause i mean he did grow up thinking he'd inherit and he didn't, but he shouldn't have taken out all of his anger on her. he had the right to doubt her and think she had ulterior motives, but he had no right to accuse her of being a gold digger when she had done NOTHING to gray for him think that (dont take this as me not liking gray, he's one of my fav characters ever (but no one beats jamie (and nash)))

idk if this one will make sense and ik some people will agree with me if this does, but the way avery is treated in this fandom is really shitty. she's pretty much only mentioned when people are talking about the love triangle. she's bashed bc she didn't choose grayson (which she had the right to bc jamie was made for her and gray wasn't), her trauma is super overlooked. i wish people would pay more attention to her. also, i mentioned this earlier, but some people (not many but some) let other people (like gray and thea) get away will at the mean things they said to avery bc they're their favorite characters. (obviously, they can be your fav characters. my best friend's fav character is gray, and, when i first read the books, i liked gray over jamie for a small period of time, but its wrong to let them get away things just bc you like them.

people will agree with me, but jameson and grayson's trauma should NOT be compared. trauma is trauma no matter how "bad" it is (note the quotation marks around bad). ive mostly seen people compare jamie to gray saying that gray's trauma is worse which is so fucking mean. they both have trauma. they both have it bad. no one should be comparing. i will make a longer post about this bc this is smth i'm very passionate about and it pisses me off. (ive lost count of the amount of times ive compared my trauma to others thinking i had no right to complain bc others had it worse, so don't do it to fictional characters plsss)

the tiktok/insta fandom sucks. the amount of averygrayson shippers ive seen bash avery on those platforms is too much. the only healthy part of the fandom is on tumblr.

not controversial but thea is not a girl boss, she's just a mean girl. she's not iconic.

people should not bash people for their favorite characters. i've seen this mostly on older posts (like before tfg was released) but some people will go 'xander's my fav' or 'avery's my fav' and people in the comments would go 'but grayson exists' or 'but jameson exists'. let people like who they want to like. all characters are great (mostly, i hate thea and all of the bad guys).

i couldn't care less about eve's redemption arc. she ruined toby's life, and as someone who loves toby and avery's father-daughter dynamic, i will never forgive her. she also treated grayson horribly, basically got alisa kidnapped (cause alisa wouldn't have gotten kidnapped if eve hadn't gotten toby kidnapped), and more so if she ever does get a redemption arc, i will be throwing hands.

if i see people complaining about lyra's character when tgg comes out bc 'they were expecting someone different' i will be pissed. im sure lyra will be great (hopefully). it doesn't matter if she's a girl boss or more like rebecca.

grayson is not 'the most misunderstood character in the fandom'. he's literally the most popular character. people are constantly gushing about him and his trauma. other characters like avery, jameson, and xander (and others) are so much more misunderstood. no ones takes the time to understand them like they do with grayson. people are constantly talking about his trauma, and how people shouldn't hate him bc he's 'misunderstood'. people have the right to hate him, and his trauma isn't overlooked as the fandom's most popular character. he is a complex character, and i will be making in depth posts about him bc i find him interesting and i really like his character, but he's the most understood character in the fandom. i've noticed that people tend to say he's misunderstood right after coming up with the most nonsensical take defending all of his actions saying that he has trauma (trauma is not an excuse its an explanation)

even if grayson would've gotten up to help avery after the bombing 1. he would've never gotten there on time and 2. he might have gotten more hurt.

i said this earlier while talking about gray but trauma is not an excuse its an explanation. do with that what you will. i just have to repeat it.

people who claim jameson was not affected by emily are the bane of my existence (yes, they exist, i've seen them)

ik i mentioned gray a lot in this and it might seem like i don't like him, but i swear i LOVE him. i find his character very interesting and complex and i really wanna analyze his character once i'm done rereading. i just hate toxic grayson stans (most of yall aren't, but they exist)

[guiltyasdave]

are you ever dreaming of me?

series masterlist • this is part IV

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: This got very dark very quickly, but it had to be done. It’s basically just one big love letter from me to Dave and his character. I know Dave’s behavior in the last chapter has been a little frustrating but I hope it’ll make more sense now (it’s still frustrating though ngl). I also know this is not as smut-heavy as the other chapters, which might come as a disappointment to some. Stay with me here, more filth is coming soon, I just had to get emotional for a second. <3 (also, please be nice because I lowkey hate this, actually)

word count: ~3.1k

summary: Dave’s side of the story.

warnings: ANGST, bits of fluff if you squint, age-gap, mentions of killing people, mentions of death, mentions of rough sex, power imbalance, able-bodied reader, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, dubios morals (Dave is cheating on his wife… kinda), idiots in love, this whole serious is still very much 18+ only, mdni… did I mention angst? (As always, please tell if if I forgot something!)

dividers by @/saradika <3

find my full masterlist here!

Dave York isn’t a good man.

He isn’t a good man and he hasn’t been in a long time. He probably had been, once, when he first joined the military, when he still thought that he was doing the good thing, the right thing. Before he killed his first man. Now he’s living in shades of gray, where nothing is as simple as right or wrong.

He knows that what he’s doing is not right, but then again, the people that he’s killing aren’t good men either. He’s doing what he’s good at, what he has been trained to do for years. He doesn’t really know what else he’s good at. If there even is anything else.

He makes enough money to provide well for his daughters, the only thing in his life that he really cares about, the two girls that he loves more than anything. He loved their mother too, once, when they were both young. They were high school sweethearts, got married quickly simply because that was the thing that you did, only to realize later that adult life with each other wasn’t what either of them had imagined.

He’s never told Carol what exactly it is that he does, trying to protect her, which then led to her not understanding what was going on when he came home feeling cold and empty, a void inside of him that nothing could fill. They both grew distant from each other, not sharing any real connection anymore, just living aside one another. It works for him; their daughters are still the top priority for both of them, and they’re going to do everything in their power to give them the best possible childhood.

He suspects that Carol is seeing someone else, with the way she’s sometimes working late for no good reason, sliding out of the room to answer her phone at odd hours, the way he occasionally finds a position on their shared credit card bill that he doesn’t have an explanation for.

Dave knows that if he cared, he could easily find out every little detail about it. If he cared, he would probably be angry at how she’s not even making an effort to hide it. But the thing is - he just can’t bring himself to care. Has never done the same thing either, neither out of spite, nor because he had any desire for it.

Until he met her.

Sitting in a hotel bar, two seats over from him, when he’d just gotten a job done and figured that a quick drink might help him fall asleep easier. The whiskey’s burn in his throat didn’t ease the coldness that felt like it had permanently settled into his chest, not that he’d expected it to.

He had just decided to retreat to his room and get out of the city first thing in the morning when she sighed loudly and downed her own drink abruptly. He had noticed her when he walked in, the way he always clocked every person in any room he entered, and every possible exit route. He had absentmindedly noted that she was attractive, then dismissed the thought immediately. Probably here for a date, much younger than him, not paying him any mind. Not a threat, and therefore not important.

Not important at all, until he found himself turning to her and offering to buy her another drink before his mind had even caught up to his actions, learning that she had just been stood up for what would indeed have been a date, noticing the glint of interest in her gaze as she eyed him up and down, feeling a kind of longing that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Getting her to go up to his room with him had been easy. A mutual understanding of wanting each other, the desire to turn a shitty evening into something else, something that he doesn’t think either of them understood at the time.

Kissing her for the first time had been easy, too. Touching her, feeling her hot skin under his fingertips, her entire being so much softer, lighter than he was, felt easy. It felt right, like something that he hadn’t known he was missing right until that moment. He wanted to devour her, make her his, get her as close as he possibly could, before he inevitably had to give up this fleeting moment of something that suspiciously felt like happiness, and happiness never stayed within his reach for too long.

Sinking into her for the first time, hearing her gasp, her breath hot against his neck, felt even better. This was never gonna last, things this good never did. The way she clenched around him when he first slapped her ass and her whimper of “harder, please” turned him feral in a way that he hadn’t known before. How she gave up all control to him so willingly when his entire life had felt out of control for so long - it was addicting. He had known that he would come back for more again and again before he had even spilled himself into her for the first time.

He hadn’t planned for her to stay the night. Hadn’t planned for the way she kissed his lips in the morning, acting a little shy, like she was worried that he might send her away, but so clearly showing him that she wanted more of him, if that was what he wanted. And god damn, did he want to give her more, give her all that he had to offer, if only it wasn’t for the fact that any more of him would be enough to scare her away for good.

So, he didn’t give her more. Made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t looking for an emotional attachment, told her about his marriage, told her that they couldn’t be a thing. She was quick to hide her disappointment, but not quick enough for him not to notice. He half expected her to walk out then, that this wasn’t something she wanted, but instead she scribbled down her phone number, gave him a flirty smile and told him to call her “whenever”.

He knew he was being greedy, that he should have kept it a one time thing that he could keep a fond memory of, but of course he called her. Kept making stops in her town before flying back home, started spending weekends with her, the feeling of being around her too good to let go of.

He knows that it’s not right, that he’s probably taking advantage of her in some way. Of course he sees how badly she wants to please him, how she looks at him like he’s hung the moon for her. She has never denied him anything, no matter what kinds of depraved things he’s wanted to do with her. Hesitated, yes, but she has never said no. Never called red, never asked him to stop. Not when he first told her to call him “sir”, not when he spanked her for the first time, not when he’s edging her until she’s barely coherent, not when his fingers tightened around her throat for the first time. He could leave her a crying, shaking mess on the floor, and by the end of the night she’d still look up at him with those wide eyes and thank him.

It’s addictive and he can’t stop, always comes back for more when it feels like his whole life is spiraling out of his control again, when the darkness around him is threatening to swallow him whole. She’ll let him grab at her with rough hands, mold her body into any shape he wants, let him spit filth at her and let lose until he feels grounded again, until some of the darkness around him has dissipated.

Lately, work has been weighing on him even harder. Maybe he’s just getting older, maybe he has finally reached his limit, he’s not sure. With the whole week off, an incredibly rare occurrence, he knew who he wanted to spend it with. She had seemed stressed lately, like she needed a break too, so it was easy to convince himself that he was doing this for her. That it wasn’t just a selfish plan of his to spend more time with her.

Because somewhere along the way he has come to enjoy the time with her way too much. He enjoys lying in bed together, both of them catching their breaths, laughing about a stupid joke, the little tidbits from her life that she shares with him, the rare occasions when they’re walking around her neighborhood. The way she shyly grabbed his hand the first time, like she was scared that he would pull it away. The smile that she tried to but couldn’t hide when he didn’t.

This isn’t right and it’s not going to last, he’s well aware of that. As clear as he has been about his intentions, he still feels like he’s leading her on sometimes. But it feels too good to stop, to let go of one of the few comforts that he has in life.

The past few days with her have been heaven. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would enjoy spending so much uninterrupted time with her, how good it would feel to be around her the entire day, just watching her be herself and listening to her talking. And he has been talking as well, the feeling of speaking to someone without an ulterior motive, of someone listening to him just because they wanted to, more meaningful to him than he could put into words.

And all throughout, she had so willingly bent to his every wish, put all her trust into him, secure in the knowledge that in the end, he would take care of her.

So, Dave had let his guard down. Relaxed. Then the dream happened.

Last night, he had come home to find the girls slaughtered in their house, their small bodies soaked in blood. It’s a recurring nightmare, a fear that he can never entirely shake off, that haunts his subconscious every couple of weeks. He’s being thorough in his work, never leaving loose ends, keeping his private life concealed from the world that he moves in. The risk that anything could happen to them is as low as he can push it, but it’s not zero. Never zero, and it’s eating at him. Usually, he wakes up alone, gasping for breath, the sheets soaked with sweat. Him and Carol haven’t slept in the same bed for a long time.

Last night, it had been different. It had been different because she had been there beside him, shaking him awake and holding him in her arms until he calmed back down. It had also been different because she had been part of the dream. Just as dead, just as blood-soaked as his daughters.

She had been so sweet when he woke up, and it broke his heart. He wasn’t a good person. He was endangering everyone around him, he was endangering her by not being able to end this thing with her, and yet here she was, oblivious, comforting him.

He had always thought that eventually, he would be the one to break things off. But what if it was her? What if she figured out what a pathetic excuse of a man he was, that he couldn’t give her anything? Not a real relationship, and no future. He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t let her see who he was. What he did, what he was afraid of - and just how realistic those fears were.

He couldn’t even bear to picture the look on her face if he ever told her. The betrayal, the disgust, and eventually the fear. He couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t. But how could he go on with this, knowing that every minute that he spends with her, he puts her in danger? Someone could find out. Someone could find her.

So does what he does best. Makes a plan. Suppresses his emotions until he’s sure of what to do. How to keep her safe. The logical part of his mind arrives at a solution pretty quickly: She’ll be safest if she stays away from him.

The emotional part of him, the part that he tries to keep shut down, doesn’t approve of this idea.

He has to tell her. Sooner rather than later, while the dream is still fresh in his memory, while he can still see her dead body when he closes his eyes.

Because he obviously knew about the dangers of being with him when he first laid eyes on her. When he kissed her for the first time, texted her for the first time, walked up to her apartment for the first time, when he booked this damn vacation because he’s unable to stay away from her. Unable to think straight when it comes to her. There’s a million reasons why he shouldn’t be with her and yet, he always finds a reason not to quit.

He tells himself that he’ll speak to her as soon as she gets up. Then once he’s done with his phone call. Maybe after they’ve had breakfast. At the end of the day, when they’re back in the room. He never does. He can’t.

The tension has become unbearable at that point. He knows that she’s confused, that she has questions that he doesn’t have answers for. His life feels out of control once again, so he tries gaining it back in the only way that he knows.

He half expected her to refuse him, but she seems just as relieved as he feels when he tells her to get down on her knees. Afterwards, he doesn’t feel better. Possibly hates himself even more.

He can tell that she’s off afterwards, and he’s battling himself to comfort her. This is not what he should be doing. None of this is what he should be doing.

Usually, she tucks herself into the space between his shoulder and his chest before he can even say a word. Not tonight. Tonight, she had her back turned to him before he had even switched off the lights, the “good night” that she normally breathes against his neck nothing more than a murmur from her side of the bed.

He stares at her backside in the darkness of the room, the way she seems to be curling in on herself, and he has no idea what to do. What they just did seemed like what she wanted, she had appeared eager, enthusiastic even, but maybe he read her wrong. Shit, he hadn’t even asked for her color once.

It’s quiet for a long time. He finally feels himself slowly drifting off to sleep, when her hears her sniffle. His eyes fly open again. It’s only minimal movements, but he can see her tremble ever so slightly. Fuck it, he thinks to himself as he reaches out towards her.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

You tense at his words, at the fact that he’s apparently awake. Has probably been the whole time. You try your hardest to make your voice sound normal, even though you know that it’s pointless.

“Nothing.”

It comes out even weaker than you had anticipated. You keep your back to him and feel him shuffling closer, his hand gently pulling at your shoulder to turn you towards him. “Baby. Talk to me.” His voice is soft in your ear and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. Baby. He has never called you Baby before. You feel a fresh wave of tears welling up in your eyes and shake your head but let him turn you around until you’re facing him.

His eyes search your face in the faint moonlight that’s filtering into the room and his hands cup your damp cheeks, his thumbs gently running over the skin under your eyes. The worry that’s so evident in his expression right now makes you want to break down. You’re exhausted, and confused, and you don’t understand the man in front of you and his contradictory behavior at all. So far you’ve been crying silently, but you can feel your bottom lip trembling as you try to suppress the sobs that are threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Did I- shit, was I too rough, did I hurt you? You didn’t say anything, but I never asked- I should’ve checked, I’m sorry, I-“

“You didn’t hurt me,” you whisper, cutting off his frantic rambling. He didn’t, not in the way that he’s referring to, anyway.

“Then what’s wrong?” he pleads, his hands still on your face, “Talk to me.” You inhale deeply. You really don’t want to have this conversation, but maybe it’s best like this. Rip the bandaid off, make it quick.

“Do you want to leave?”

Your voice breaks on the last word. He stares at you for a beat, his eyes wide. “Do I- What?” You shrug, unable to bring yourself to ask a second time. One of his hands slides down to your shoulder, holding you there. He doesn’t speak, his eyes boring into you.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer, your eyes dropping down to his chest instead. “You’ve been… weird. Today. I thought- I don’t fucking know, that I had done something or that you’ve-” a sob breaks free and interrupts you, “that you’ve had enough of me. That you don’t want to go on with… this.” You gesture helplessly between the two of you.

You’re certain that now you’ve said too much, that if he hadn’t had enough before, he definitely has now. You’re supposed to be fun, a distraction, not someone who’s clinging to him, but you’re feeling too exhausted, too raw to keep pretending like this thing between you doesn’t mean something. To you, at least.

“Fuck,” Dave mumbles, and you gaze up to see the anguish in his eyes before his arms envelop you and he presses you against his chest, speaking into your hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

It’s quiet for a minute as you’re inhaling his scent, trying to calm yourself down, when something occurs to you. “You didn’t say no,” you whisper into his chest, “you said that I didn’t do anything, but… you didn’t say that you don’t want to leave.” Dave freezes for just a second, searching your face, then he sighs heavily. He sounds defeated, you think.

“No, I don’t want to leave.”

taglist/people who have expressed interest in this: @joelscurls @reddedmiller @iamasaddie @guelyury @theywhowriteandknowthings @amanitacowboy @corazondebeskar @vabeachazn @mellymbee @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @no1-nosesitter

let me know if you wanna be added, also no hard feelings if you wanna be removed! 🫶🏻

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series masterlist

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

hi baby! im sure ure flooded with requests but ive been feeling really insecure ab my hip dips n stretch marks lately n ur writing really comforts me... so i was wondering if u could write smt ab dokyeom or anyone u want rlly! finding reader feeling bad ab their hip dips and stretchmarks and he comforts them? totally ur choice love u! ❤

oh girl i have had the WORLDS WORST body image week ever so this request hits difffffffffffffferent. i'm so happy to do that -- for both of us. warnings: female reader, body image issues are a major theme, descriptions of physical insecurities of the reader, mention of a doctor visit, and possibly a bit angsty with a happy ending

this is:

No Less a Goddess

"can i come to the gym with you?" you ask shyly, peeking around the corner at your boyfriend, who is changing into his shorts and tee to work out.

"huh?" seokmin asks, whirling to look at you with his arms in the sleeves of his shirt, having been interrupted in pulling it over his head. "you've never asked before! i'd love to have you come along!"

"what do i wear?" you ask, unable to keep from smiling at his enthusiasm.

"anything you want!" he says. "just make sure it's easy to move in."

about fifteen minutes later, the two of you are walking down the stairs to the gym in your shared apartment complex, hand in hand. seokmin's sunny smile and idle chatter is almost enough to distract you from the growing knot of discomfort in your stomach.

sure enough, the second you walk in, you notice a woman running on the treadmill. her short shorts and sports bra are stylishly coordinated, at a stark contrast to your ratty gray sweatpants and ugly oversized tee. her legs are muscular, and you can't see a single ounce of fat on her. you swallow hard and try to pay attention to seokmin instead, who is excitedly showing you around. "and this is where i painstakingly grew the arms you have come to know and love," he's saying, pointing at the barbells. "you should say thank you."

"i appreciate your service," you say with a small salute, and seokmin chuckles.

"so, what are your fitness goals?" seokmin asks, shrugging off his jacket.

you have to appreciate how the gray tee hugs the contours of his body, so you just say, "i just want to be a part of whatever it is you've got going on." which makes him beam.

you join seokmin for leg day. surprisingly, you're amazed by how much you're actually able to do -- apparently years of working on your feet has paid off, and while you're not perfect, you can mostly keep up with your very athletic boyfriend. it's actually kind of fun, too, which is no surprise -- seokmin makes everything fun.

but in the back of your mind, you're still thinking about that woman on the treadmill. seokmin is the most loyal man you know, and the idea of him cheating on you is actually laughable, but you can't help but compare yourself to her. that's the kind of person he deserves, you think to yourself. not a slob like me.

it had been a bad week for your body image. earlier on, you'd had to go to the urgent care for a bad case of pink eye, and the doctor had announced your weight to you out loud, which honestly felt like cruel and unusual punishment, especially given that it was the heaviest you'd ever been. the sting was only exacerbated when you went shopping for a few new outfits for a cruise you were taking next month with seokmin. your love handles, your thick thighs covered in stretch marks and cellulite, your hip dips -- all these insecurities you'd always had seemed to zoom into the forefront of your mind and start yelling at you.

you hadn't yet confided in seokmin, because you knew exactly how he'd react. but it becomes impossible not to tell him when, post-gym and post-shower, he corners you in the bedroom and sits you firmly down on the mattress. "something's up," he insists. "what's wrong?"

"i'm feeling insecure," you admit, avoiding his gaze.

"about what?" he asks.

"have you noticed i've gained weight?" you ask in a small voice.

"no," he responds, confused. "is that what this is about?"

"at the doctor's office," you continue softly, "i found out i'm the heaviest i've ever been." you take a shuddering breath. "and i'm getting more and more stretch marks. and i just feel like you're so out of my league. i mean, look at you." you gesture to him in all his freshly showered glory.

seokmin just blinks. "well? do you have anything to say?" you ask him, feeling a little hurt at his lack of response.

he hesitates. "well, i'm not sure what to say," he says slowly.

"well, thanks," you say, standing up and stalking out of the room. "super helpful, babe."

"no, wait! come back!" seokmin says, sounding panicked. "let me finish."

"oh, was there more?" you shoot at him. "because your silence was really loud."

he sighs. "honey, i understand you're feeling upset and i get it, i really do. but you have to let me finish talking."

his patient tone of voice grates at your already frayed nerves, but you bite your tongue and sit back down on the bed. this is seokmin, you remind yourself. seokmin, the kindest person alive. seokmin, who never meant to hurt you even when he did. and seokmin, who always made things right.

he reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's hard for me to respond to that because to me, you're perfect," he begins. you scoff, and he squeezes your hand. "hear me out," he implores.

you sigh but finally turn to look him in the eyes. he gives a small smile before starting again, playing absently with your fingers. "your body is ..." he says, and trails off, his eyes devouring you hungrily. he finally shakes himself back to normal and continues. "ugh. i'm gonna get distracted if i go into more detail, but let's just say i'm more attracted to you now than i ever have been, and that's saying something." he laughs quietly. "it's hard for me to understand the insecurities because to me, you're a goddess."

"okay," you say hesitantly. "but that doesn't make them any less real."

"no, i know," seokmin agrees. "so i guess what i should've said is that... i'm really sorry you can't see yourself like i do right now. and i will do whatever it takes to remind you that no matter how things change, or how you change, i fell in love with you for so much more than just your body. and that's one thing that's never changing," he finishes.

you study him with a stony face for a moment. "okay, that was pretty good," you admit, finally cracking a smile.

"was it?" he asks.

"and you should be rewarded," you continue, sliding closer to him on the bed in the most suggestive way you can muster.

he blushes. "well...i'll never say no to that," he agrees, pulling you closer to him for a kiss.

[sun-stricken]

Gray, Lyon and Ultear family ideas? I like to imagine Gray tells them about one of fairy tail’s exploits and they get concerned about his well-being. Mandatory family trips thatGray definitely doesn’t try to avoid (Lyon and Ultear have learnt to alert the guild when they’re coming so Gray can’t escape).

And if you don’t mind, Gray and Loke being BFFs?

Thanks! This blog makes me happy

im so happy you enjoy my blog!! i enjoy it too ;D

i’ve actually made a post similar to this before, but heres more

ty for the ask and sorry this took a while, ive been busy

Once a month (at least) family trip are a must, It started with Ultear dragging Lyon places during the 7 year gap but it started being a more regular thing when Gray turned back up

the first couple time they tried to do things together, it was a disaster

they werent familiar with each other and were hella awkward

Also, when Lyon & Ultear would mention to Gray they were coming into town, he would try to convince the team to go on an impromptu job

they’ve since learned to warn Erza of their arrival so he cant leave

‘abt to come into town, do not let that mf leave’

‘Guarding the doors & windows rn’

Grays probably walked into the guild to see one or both of them and turned right back around

The first time the showed up when Gray wasnt around they got a shovel-esque talk

it was terrifying and also confusing considering they think of themselves as his siblings so shouldnt they be giving those talks?

Ultear really embraces her oldest sibling role and pays for practically everything they do together

While Gray will try to avoid in person outings, he will blow up their phones (lacrima devices, whatever) at all hours of the night

Lyon probably has a 16 step skin care routine that he tries to nag the other two into trying it

its a fools quest tbh

They argue. so much. cannot do anything together without a disagreement. they probably have fist fought each other too

They are fiercely protective of one another, they can be pretty subtle about it but its clear as day to anyone who even slightly crosses them

They as a whole have a gambling/betting problem

They have run their pockets dry with it

They have been kicked out of multiple restaurants for being too loud

Gray tells them off-handedly abt the jobs and events he went through while growing up in Fairy Tail and they just sit back and listen in horrified fascination

they have absolutely no planned photos of them, they just never got around to it (*coughcough* grayrefusedtobeinone *coughcough*)

however! they have soooo many candid ones, Gray glared and complained when he found out (but he has half of them framed or saved on his phone)

Ultear and Lyon got pretty close duriny the 7 year gap and while Gray swears hes not jealous of it he totally is

Ultear, Lyon, & Gray; Guilt Complex Extraordinaires

Loke & Gray things :D

Nobody knows if Loke had a house, he always crashed on Grays couch

They are the reason for the sassy man apocalypse

When Lucy lets him have a day off his first stop tends to be Gray

Loke taught Gray how to cook

If Gray gets mad at him, Loke will attempt to deescalate it by flirting

Grayll be scolding him and Loke will stare at him and say smth like “are we about to kiss right now🥰”

it only serves to make Gray more angry

Orange cat friend + Black cat friend

Theyre the type to know in detail each others existential crisis’s but not each others favorite color

they do not have blackmail on each other. none. because they know if they ever did and actually released it the other would post absolutely every single humiliating thing they’ve done ever

There is no such thing as a judgement free zone with them

Their tastes are so different that when they have to get gifts for each other that if they look at smth and think “wow this is so ugly” they know its the right one

they probably hooked up at some point but thats neither here nor there

Loke, Gray and Cana were kinda like the mean girls of young fairy tail

They had a dont ask dont tell policy on their pasts, however every other personal detail abt each other was free reign

A lot of their conversations have left them with a sense of dread, confusion and hysteria

Lokes the type to walk into ppls houses like its his own, his most common victim is Gray

Loke, pulling the shower curtain back: Were out of ch— stop screaming

Gray, still screaming: HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE???

Loke, nonplussed: You left the kitchen window unlocked, also we’re out of chips

SORRY ITS SHORT!!

[miya-rin]

here are some small iwaizumi boyfriend headcanons

requested through this ask!

has soo many blankets in one of his closets so when its winter time you two can stay in bed all day and cuddle without being too cold :(((

he likes to be little spoon every once in a while and it is so cute when he asks cause he gets kinda quiet and averts his eyes and when you say yes he has this little smile and omfg he is the cutest ever

he never cries while watching sad films but you put on one movie where a dog dies, like marley and me, and this man will BAWL HIS EYES OUT

always smells faintly of coconut because of the shampoo, conditioner and body wash he uses

absolutely loves ariana grande, he walks around humming to the tune of “into you” but flat out denies it every time you bring it up

he really hates the smell of lavender, claims it reminds him of a restroom. if you buy lavender room spray prepare for him to gag (on purpose or just to annoy you) whenever you spray it

ive said this before and ill say it again, he loves paying for your stuff. he doesnt even let you spend your own money as he believes that you should let him provide for you, and no matter how much you argue with him over this, it always ends with him paying for you

hates mushroom, refuses to eat them. he almost had an adult tantrum once when oikawa secretly tried to feed one to him so now you know to never give him any

he actually loves taking part in couples tiktok trends with you, he always tags you in them or sends them to you and asks to try them out

OMG HE BUYS MATCHING ONESIES FOR YOU TWO, YK LIKE THE TOOTHLESS AND LIGHT FURY ONES AND INSISTS ON WEARING THEM ON MOVIE NIGHTS

where he is an athletic trainer he obviously knows how to help with injuries, so if you ever have a pain somewhere on you body he will drop everything to help you and make sure you’re ok

walks around your house / flat in only gray joggers and smirks whenever he catches you looking

when he is nervous he taps his fingers on stuff and he normally does it on your thighs as a way to let you know how he is feeling so that you can try and calm him down

when you guys are arguing he always waits for you to finish talking before he starts so he doesn’t interrupt you and make you feel unheard :((

he really liked collecting vinyl records but he never told anyone, he only brought it up once to you as he was talking about the fact he didn’t have a record player, so you got one for him on his birthday and he almost cried because he was so happy that you payed attention to such small part of what he enjoyed and omfg i love him he is just the sweetest

^^ i should also mention i think he gets kind of emotional whenever you do something sweet for him that most people would normally overlook

all of my haikyuu boyfriend headcanons

thankyou for reading! i hope you liked it!

[gh0st-author]

lover of mine

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort but very bittersweet

summary: when i take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that i think i got right

warnings: mentions of death, lots of sad thoughts

A/N: ha ha .. guess who's back ... jk jk i've been away for a little while and i dipped in true fanfic author fashion BUT HEY im back now. and i was craving a bit of pain so here is a lil something angsty. its more of a character study than anything... also could you tell that ive been listening to lover of mine lmao

The serene silence of the night was interrupted by a strangled gasp, a broken intake of air momentarily cutting through the calm as a figure arose suddenly from their sleeping position, clutching their chest. Scarlet eyes flashed open, disoriented, hauntingly glancing around the room, the man trying to gather his bearings. He felt as if the walls were caving in around him, although the logical part of his brain was aware that those notions were only in his head. But lately, there was little difference between nightmares and consciousness to William.

And that was all that this was— a nightmare. A horrible fragment of his imagination seeping into his dreams and haunting his waking hours. Usually, the myriad of thoughts and emotions was kept tightly at bay in the furthest reaches of his mind, but at night when his defenses were lowered and his being slumbered, they seeped through and poisoned his dreams, his consciousness becoming a prison, caging him in. Faces flashed before his eyes, his own bloody hands, the weight of his own deeds and sins— oftentimes he felt less like a man and more like a whirling swarm of guilt, despair, and nihilty.

He directed his gaze at the ceiling, eyes tracing the veiny cracks weaving over it like spider webs, as his mind churned with thoughts. His soul was screaming out, but no sound seeped out. Power comes in response to a need, not desire. He felt no desire for bloodshed he dished out, found no enjoyment in it, yet he continued to drag himself further into hell, each step heavy as stone but unwavering, preserving what little hope was left at the cost of damning his soul. That was something he needed to do. He even abhorred violence, deeming it an absolute evil. Violence for violence was the rule of beasts, yet most days he felt as if it was the only language he knew how to speak. Maybe before long, he will become just like them, a violent animal of claws and teeth that did not know why it bit, crossing the blurry line of this dark gray area he roamed in and passing the point of no return. 

A minuscule movement and soft rustling of the sheets at his side drew his attention away from his musings. He gazed down at the figure sleeping next to him peacefully, face serene and bathed in moonlight. Shadows splayed over her skin making her look even more ethereal, hair draped over the silky pillowcase forming a halo around her head. An angel— or perhaps divine punishment for his sins. 

She was a being pure and unsullied by the darkness of the world; the darkness in him. Sometimes, he was almost afraid to touch her, in fear of tainting her pristine radiance with his stained hands. The mere fact that a person so far fallen like him was able to bask in the warmth she provided was as cruel as it was bitter-sweet. 

She was an existence that he shouldn't have been able to approach, and the reality of that seemed too harsh and unkind in actuality, yet he often found himself wondering if that was really true, though.

Reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair from her forehead, he once again contemplated that thought. Maybe fate wasn't evil or cruel for sending him this brilliant shard of light. Perhaps it was actually merciful, providing him with a single taste of heaven— something he thought he had no hope of ever reaching. Maybe it was kind enough to gift him with this momentary reprieve. 

Her brows furrowed in her sleep as his ministrations disturbed her slumber. He slowly drew his hand back as her eyes opened, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head and inched ever so closer to him. "Why are you not asleep? You have to teach early tomorrow." Her worried gaze ran over his face. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing." His throat was tight, each word rasping out almost painfully. "I am just... pondering."

She hummed lowly, considering him, then rose to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Hmm, a bad nightmare?" 

He sighed deeply, bone-weary, resting his cheek against her temple. "Don't concern yourself with it. I promise I am fine."

She let out another hum, and he knew what she was attempting, yet he was too weak to refuse her. She gently cradled his hands in her lap from where they'd been clutching the sheets and started tracing little patterns with her thumbs over them. "Tell me about it"

A small wry tilting of his lips, too fleeting to be called a smile, accompanied her actions. Exactly as he predicted. She knew precisely what to do to get him to talk. And that was no fault of hers, for he always acquiesced and yielded to her wants. "When I put my life into perspective, and all of my sins and crimes I committed, you are the one singular decision in it that I think I made right."

Her hands paused their movements and her gaze flew to his face, confused and slightly vexed. "What do you mean?"

Her face was so sincere, so unwaveringly loving, that he was barely able to endure the depth of her gaze. Yet he was unable to tear his eyes away from hers as the words spilled from his trembling lips. "My only right choice was meeting you, despite all of my wrongdoings. But your place is not with me, in the shadows. You should be out under the sun, never touched by our darkness."

Her brows furrowed once again, this time more severely, and he observed her face becoming even more confused and irked. "William you are talking nonsense." She clutched his hands tighter. "I chose you, William. Promised to be by your side through the good and the bad. No one else. You"

Another piece of his soul bloomed and withered away with her words, leaving its rot embedded deep in his chest. He slowly rose one hand from her grip to rest it gently on her cheek. "How I wish I could've loved you under different circumstances."

"Stop that!" she protested, shock subsiding, replaced with indignation. "You fight for equality. You are noble. You are not evi—"

"There is nothing noble about what I do." The look he gave her was cold and mournful, closed off. Any semblance of warmth leeched out of it. "Taking someone's life— even for a greater cause— is never justice." Dropping his hand from her face, he inched away from her, pulling away as the thick walls he usually built to keep these thoughts away crumbled in her presence. As he confessed to her the depths of his despair. "I never told you this before, but I plan to die." He didn't know if saying these words was a weight off his chest, or the last nail in his proverbial coffin. "I plan to atone with my death, to disappear as the last blight on society. To end the great evil that the masses depict me to be."

"Don't you dare!" Her words were a shocked gasp. And suddenly she understood— he saw it in her eyes that she did. She saw his guilt. Guilt, and grief, and resentment, and loathing. An inescapable torment weighing him down, trapping him, crushing him under the immense pressure of his deeds. A bottomless pit pulling him into its depths of despair. She understood why he condemned wrongdoings so harshly, why he mourned the loss of life. There was probably no one who valued human life more than him, yet was forced to extinguish it to save the majority. And he saw her terror. He saw her grief, her anguish, her heartbreak. 

With a sob, she threw herself in his embrace. She was shaking, trembling in his arms, and his chest caved in knowing he was the cause of her pain. Her plea was a broken whisper. "Don't you dare, William. Not like... that. Never like that. Remember our deal: Where you go, I go. If you die, I'll follow, since there is no me without you."

His mouth opened to protest, to refute her argument, to undoubtedly say something akin to her life holding more value than his, but she halted him with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Promise me!"

Her eyes were boring into his, and once again he found himself rendered speechless and unable to resist her. "I promise I won't." The falsehood tasted like ash on his tongue, and not for the first time he wanted to cut the lying appendage off. What good did it serve him if it only knew treachery and deceit? If it would only bring her more pain.

Her trembling hands wound around his figure as she hugged him tightly once again. "You are everything to me, William. I don't know what I would do without you. Please... Please never say something like that again."

A shuddering breath left his lips and he leaned completely into her, resting his head in the crook of her neck, feeling incredibly worn out and frail. "How do you not condemn me?"

Her hands slowly made their way up to brush through his hair, so achingly gentle. He couldn't remember when the last time that he'd been touched so lovingly was. Couldn't remember if he'd ever been before meeting her. "I love you, William, the broken parts and everything. Stained hands or not. I have always vowed to stay by your side. No matter how much our souls are tainted, we will spend the rest of our lives atoning for it— together. After all, is it better to just be born good or to achieve goodness through your own effort?"

She leaned back to smile at him, then brushed a soft kiss against his lips, still trembling from the onslaught of his raging inferno inside him. "Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone. Use the pain as a motive to continue forward. You will heal and you'll rise above it all."

Oh, she was so cruel, unintentionally so. Her sincerity was like bitter wine down his throat or a poison slowly making its way through his bloodstream. The simple fact that she truly believed there was any chance of redemption for him hurt more than death by a thousand papercuts. "I was correct." His hand lightly traced her cheek once again. Every word was a wound slowly bleeding out, draining his strength with it. "I really do not deserve you."

She shook her head, somber once again. "Stop saying that. I can't think of a man more worthy of my love and redemption." 

Darkness without light was an abyss. Light without darkness was blinding. You could not have a coin with only one side. Maybe they were like that. She was his perfect antithesis, his other side. The one that would grab and pull him out of the bottomless abyss of living hell, and he was the one that would ground her and shield her from flying too close to the sun. She would provide warmth to thaw away his frost, and he would keep her fire from burning out too fast. He only hoped he would be around long enough for her to not need him anymore. He hoped she wouldn't be too furious with him after he'd perished. What was another broken promise added to his ever-growing list of sins?

Because he couldn't stay with her in the light. She was still so incredibly radiant, not as far gone as he was. He knew that only the dead have seen the end of war. And that has always been his plan from the beginning. For how could he, a sinner as vile as the ones he was ridding the world of so diligently, be allowed to live in this new pristine world he was trying to create? How could she still see something good in him when he was the biggest evil that had to be eradicated? His fate has been set in stone since the first day he took Albert's hand, maybe even before that, yet with every new day he found his resolve on that matter wavering more and more. With each kiss from her; with every touch; with every love-filled glance— she made his icy determination crumble under her warm light. He was nothing but a coward wearing the face of a revolutionary, desperately clinging to life— to her— when he knew he couldn't. But for her, he almost thought it was worth it to live.

Sometimes he felt as if he could feel time moving, slipping through his fingers, and that dreaded moment of judgment creeping up closer and closer behind him, breathing down his neck. A walking dead man— that's what he was. The person currently cradling her, whispering sweet lies and false promises, was just his shell, a ticking time bomb or a lit candle only waiting for its fuse to burn out. That is precisely why he said nothing more as she urged him to go back to sleep once again. Said nothing as she draped the covers over them. Said nothing as the stifling silence threatened to pull him under once again. 

He would not be sleeping tonight, although she did not need to know that.

[whumpy-muffle]

Medwhump May Day 4: Sedated

I've dabbled in writing fiction every now and then but this is the first time I've actually posted any of it. Couldn't really figure out a fandom for this, so OCs it is then (didn’t have enough fictional evil men in my life so I decided to make some of my own).

Tags/warnings: medical inaccuracies, drugged (for their own good), questionable caretaking, mystery illness, descriptions of what getting drugged feels like, referring to an adult as a ‘kid’, organized crime, mentions of bullet and stab wounds

Words: 924

@medwhumpmay

Vincent was worried. He was pacing back and forth in the upstairs hallway of the boss’s mansion. It had been three days since they had that unfortunate run in with a rivaling association. Three days in hiding. 

He had had his hands full with helping his colleagues through their injuries. Vincent was the only one with a medical degree so of course he’d be in charge of that. He didn’t mind fixing up bullet grazes and stab wounds, those were normal in this line of work. But the man couldn’t help but worry about their youngest associate. Angelino was in pain. He didn’t get shot or stabbed but he had been in pain ever since they went into hiding. The kid had claimed it was just a migraine but the mob doctor had his suspicions. A migraine couldn’t really explain all of his weird symptoms.

Vincent gave the bedroom door another worried glance. The Don of their organization had been in Angelino’s room for a while now. Hopefully he’d be able to find out what was wrong with the kid. The old man had known Angelino since he was a toddler. Surely he’d know what was wrong with him.

Suddenly the door opened and the old man marched out of the room. He carefully closed the door behind him before turning to his underling. “Give him morphine,” the Don ordered.

Vincent was taken aback. “What? Why?”

“That’s not a migraine,” the Don said in a low voice, renouncing the excuse the kid had given them.

Vincent hesitated. “Shouldn’t I ask Angelino first?” 

“Do you ask permission from our customers before taking care of them?” the Don agitatedly demanded.

Vincent tried to argue back: “But sir if Angelino dies–”

“I don’t want you to kill him!” the Don interrupted him with a hiss. “Quite the opposite, I want him to not suffer.”

Vincent looked on as the old man walked up and down the hallway, muttering to himself:

“He’s too stubborn for his own good, I can’t believe how skittish Jack made him, and his father, he really screwed him over with this.”

Vincent took a calming breath before speaking up: “Right. How much morphine should I give him?”

“Enough to knock him out, to give him a proper break,” the Don replied in a low voice.

So he’d have to sedate Angelino. If that was the only way to ease the pain and maybe finally figure out what was wrong with him, so be it.

Vincent entered Angelino’s room. The kid was lying in his bed. His long dark hair was splayed on his pillow and he had an exhausted look on his sickly gray face. He was clearly still in agony. During the first day Vincent had hooked Angelino to an IV since the kid had refused to eat or drink anything. At least the cannula would make the job easier.

Angelino suspiciously peered at Vincent as he made his way to his bedside. “Didn’t you have a meeting to attend?” the young man asked in a strained voice.

“Yes, I’ll get to the meeting once I’m done with this,” Vincent replied. He rummaged through the supplies he had stored in the dresser drawer until he found what he was looking for.

Angelino kept warily looking as the mob doctor pulled out a syringe, connected it into the needleless access port, and began pushing the mystery liquid into his IV line. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just flushing the line,” Vincent lied to keep the kid calm.

“Why?”

“To move the fluid through,” the doctor replied as he carefully finished pushing the morphine into the tube and to the kid.

It didn’t take too long for the drug to take effect. “Vincent, the hell did you do to me?” Angelino demanded. His voice was weak but the panic still radiated through.

“It’s going to be fine Angelino, it’s to help you sleep and to ease the pain. Just relax and you’ll feel a lot better after this. Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise,” Vincent comforted him. He sat down on the bed to make sure the morphine would give out the desired result. He swallowed down the guilt he was feeling for breaking the kid’s trust.

Angelino tried to fight against the drug but it was a losing battle. A warm and fuzzy feeling was spreading from his core to all of his limbs. His head felt like it was floating, the pain disappearing further and further into the distance as a tidal wave of euphoria rushed over him. The room around him was turning into a soft blur and he felt exhausted. At the edges of his consciousness he heard Vincent softly talking to him. He couldn’t make any sense of it. 

Angelino tried his best to force himself to stay awake but it was no use. He had barely slept while being here and the part of him which ignored danger was begging him to just let everything go. It didn’t take long before Angelino’s eyelids fluttered and he became blissfully aware of nothing more.

Vincent watched as Angelino’s head lolled to the side as the morphine rendered the kid seemingly unconscious. He looked at his now half lidded glassy eyes. At least there weren't any thoughts or suffering behind them anymore.

After waiting for a few more cautionary seconds, the mob doctor stood up and made his way to the door. The Don was waiting for him, just outside the room.

“It’s done, he’s out,” Vincent simply announced.

[whateverurmomwants]

No cuz do you ever just realize how powerful lucy is?

She was able to conjure ALL of her celestial spirits, 3 or 4 of them being fricking ZODIACS, all at once and being powerful enough to be recognized by the celestial spirit king? And all in the first season? Where she hasn’t even had her star dresses and other abilities she has learned?

Not to mention this theory about her being a descendent of the goddess Anna, the best Celestial Spirit user.

And im rewatching it rn, and ive already encountered a moment where if she didnt interfere, natsu would have died. The arc with phantom lord where natsu is battling gajeel? Gajeel had eaten iron but there was no fire for natsu to eat, and so Lucy gave him that fire by using Sagittarius. Without that fire, natsu definitely wouldnt have finished that fight.

People are always saying ‘oh well that may be so, but if she hadn’t joined the guild-‘ Phantom lord would have most definitely attacked them for another reason. They wanted to remain the best guild in Fiore. Fairytail challenged that, so it was just a matter of time before they fought.

“Well, she always gets in their way-“ Yeah, considering the fact that she grew up in a household where her fathers only concern was the family line, she wouldn’t exactly have time to practice her magic. The only spirit she really had was Aquarius, and we can infer that she only brought her out on very few occasions. And she also wouldn’t have been able to build up any target practice or any muscle building, since Jude would say, in the stupid old fashioned way, ‘women don’t need muscles. All you need to do is make yourself look presentable to find a husband.’ He definitely wouldn’t have wanted her practicing her magic.

Meanwhile, all the others grew up in an environment where they could practice their magic freely with other wizards. They had teachers and activities that enhanced their magic and physical builds, she didn’t. So of course she wouldn’t be able to be on their level so soon.

Also, the amount of magic it takes to summon a silver spirit is a lot, but even MORE so for a Zodiac. Mashima explained that it pretty much is on a scale from 1-100. Plu being the easiest to summon at one, and her highest silver key being Lyra at 18. Her golden keys on the other hand, has Aquarius at 100 and the lowest being Cancer at 52. Others talk about the spirits only being able to use as much magical power as Lucy uses to summon them, but i doubt that theory/statement.

And its also amazing even then because she can keep those gates open for a tremendous amount of time, and multiple on some occasions. I don’t know if this part is true, but i believe that the mage has to have at-least some level of concentration on the gate for it to keep open, so if that’s correct, then it makes it even more astounding that she is able to focus on the bond at all times while fighting. And i only say this because her spirits go back to the spirit realm when she is knocked out.

Also during the E.N.D arc, (haven’t gotten there yet, seen bits and pieces) she literally REWRITES the E.N.D book that Zeref HIMSELF wrote. She literally rewrote his fate. And yes, i know that Gray was there to help her out, but at the same time, most people would have still not have been able to handle the mental and physical strain that causes.

And im just guessing on this part, but didnt she learn an entirely new part of her magic by someone in blue pegasus and learned how to preform the spell in like a week? Month? Some other very short time span?

Anyways i just love lucy and i would litterally rather show everyone my ao3 library before letting her get hurt/bashed. Lmao