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#BUT MAYBE ILL CHANGE MY MIND AS I READ WHO KNOWS
starlooove · 1 year
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I feel like Joey and Damian would get along
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vaugarde · 2 months
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tbh i expected going back into pokespe would be sorta rough bc im not a kid anymore and i was worried bc i didnt care for dp adventure toooo much (or at least enough to revisit it), but man it was honestly a delight to revisit the kanto arc. gen 1 is oversaturated these days, sure, but there’s a reason it stuck out, and there’s something really nice about engaging with a long running franchise’s early content before i assume they had to crack down on mandates and make everything on model and closer to the original canon or however that works.
it’s simple but it’s charming
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coldresolve · 6 months
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So I've read a lot of your posts and replies about torture apologia and I wanted to ask you what you think the best way to educate people is without throwing books at their faces and how best to signal to readers that you're writing unrealistic torture.
I'm asking this as someone who is moderately educated on torture and its effects. But I do enjoy reading and writing some of the more outlandish tropes like brainwashing in over-the-top settings for a variety of reasons I'm not going to mention here because explaining that would take ages and risk my anonymity.
Because there is a way to tell people that you're writing erotica that shouldn't be used as educational material for safe sex or bdsm etiquette (because its purpose is to be fantastical and unrealistic) and while it's going to be way harder with torture since people are less educated on it, there should be a way to go about it, right?
for the record i'd prefer the torture discussion sorts of questions to go over to @dark-audit, but im too tired to copy this over rn lol
i'll say this: if you're going to knowingly perpetuate myths and/or make themes that inadvertantly justify the use of torture, a good handful of which are so accepted in public discourse and fiction, a good portion of your audience believes they're factual long before they read a single thing you've written - you better make sure you signal that that's exactly what you're doing, and systematically shut down any suggestion that treats your depiction of torture as realistic, or, yknow, thematically moral in the context of real world politics. one thing is disclaimers, another is having regular conversations with your readers about how torture actually functions, which means you're gonna have to dip your toes into reading up on the topic. this is the bare minimum for handling this sort of thing responsibly imo. the current conventions for depictions of torture are misinformation and justifications. if you want to change that status quo while sticking to harmful narratives "for a variety of reasons I'm not going to mention", you're gonna have to put some serious effort in out-of-text. apologies but you dont get the good boy points for free lol
the better option would be to maybe perhaps not indulge the myths, no matter how compelling they are to you? it requires a bit of effort but if the alternative is turning a blind eye to apologia, maybe it's worth that effort. imo torture is an interesting and cathartic thing to write about even if you stick to depictions that are in line with reality. there are so many facets to it you could dive into, i don't really see the point in engaging with war on terror/reeducation rhetoric. but maybe thats just me
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nostalgia-tblr · 2 years
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I had another fic idea and the brain was like "no, that's too fluffy and romantic and YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE NICE THINGS, PEOPLE WOULD JUDGE YOU" but then I went "but what if it was kind of... comedy fluff?" and brain went "...yeah, okay, if you really must." Which I fucking HATE! Why can't I write nice things, brain?! Everyone else is allowed to! FFS, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be ~deep~ or any of that shit!
This has actually been a bit of an issue when I'm trying to write The WIP because while I told myself yeah sure go ahead and write the massively self-indulgent epically long (by my own odd standards) fic but still sometimes I get stuck because I'm not "allowed" to write something that appeals to me and my own sometimes niche interests??
Like angst I can do because that's "proper" somehow? WTF is that about? It's not proper! It's still daft! And comedy I'm allowed because I dunno apparently if it will make someone laugh that means it has "value"? It's very annoying, I don't like it.
Do other people have this? How do you deal with it? You'd think after all this time I'd be okay with writing any old shit that I want to. If anything it might be worse now. I remember years ago I could tell myself "Look, if you've spelled most of it correctly then it's already in like the better half of all the fanfic on the internet" which isn't really TRUE but I could go along with that and let myself write whatever-the-fuck I wanted to.
You know how many of us go "I'll write this fucked up thing... but I'll post it as Anon"? I get that with fluffy fic ideas as well. Or with things that are "too shippy" (WTF?) It's just such a stupid and weird form of self-criticism and it bothers me a lot.
#ranting at myself#writing stuff#possibly this is a mental illness thing but i don't think it is but it might be?#i am Quite Mad but it usually manifests related to fic as the usual “you suck!!” or irritating OCD things about wordcounts or such#this is a VERY SPECIFIC thing and i don't even know where it came from?#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?#(the fluffy thing was sylki fic where spinning off on the 'oh no unable to express feelings!' they have to pass each other notes)#(the comedy element was that this is Bloody Stupid and also Mobius attempts to Help (oh no) and etc)#(will i ever be able/“allowed” to actually write that thing? dunno!)#the Frigga thing also suffers from “that bit is despicably adorable you should be ASHAMED of yourself”#.The WIP? currently stuck at “okay now he needs to Hold The Baby. this is an important bit you can't skip it. but babies are Too Twee”#“so you may NOT just write someone Holding The Baby because that's like something people might actually want to read!”#“the murders are fine you can write murders. murder isn't twee. babies are VERY twee though.”#PROBLEM: there are several babies in this fic and the next chapter is like... ENTIRELY baby-based#(the end of the entire fic is already written and it's Too Twee as well but i've kind of gone immune to that because it's existed a while)#(oh no did i just spoiler a Happy Ending?!)#(SPOILER: kind of. it depends who you backed in this race and whether you wanted them to Become Better People)#anyway am gonna post this now before i change my mind as i probably should#fic related
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Congratulations! 🫶🏻 for the 600 followers I’d like to request a story with one of kkps oc pairings- yuuta x hanabi; prompt: “do you think of me when you touch yourself?” Make it as spicy as you wish hehe
hello anon if you still exist after so many months! If you request third party oc's from me you have to accept that I put my own OCs all over it too. So here goes.
my au, blank period. yuuta is @kankuroplease's baby and setsuko belongs to @foolishk and ko is all mine baby.
Rated M, also a lot of alcohol is being consumed
2039 words
Yuuta is persuaded into a night out with some younger friends, but is mostly bored until Hanabi shows up.
Yuuta found himself in what he could only call the worst mixer that anyone, ever, had ever gone to. At least he could not imagine that there was a worse fate than his right now, sitting and staring at other people without having anyone else to chat with, even the jug of beer on the table didn’t help from the boredom he felt. He truly regretted having gone here with all these people that were younger than him and caught up in their own little worlds. 
And it was not like he disliked any of the people present. Separately he had hung out with all of them several times since they had come of age, especially to go out for a drink. On his opposite side sat Udon, who now that he had grown had actually turned into a rather handsome and cute man. He was smart, yes, maybe smarter than anyone else present tonight and Yuuta enjoyed their occasional chats, but he was completely occupied by the woman sitting next to him now.
Ko had her head constantly turned to him and spoke to him, but Yuuta knew that she wasn’t really interested in Udon. On Ko’s left sat Konohamaru, the reason she had agreed to come in the first place. Ko hadn’t been in the village for long, just about half a year and it was clear that she very much wanted Konohamaru, and he probably wanted her too, guessing from the way he acted when she was around, but some sense of fake responsibility to Naruto kept him from just going for it. So they sat side by side, their legs under the table touching and while they were both leaning away from each other, they very much were together.
Yuuta had also chatted a bit with the girls to his own left, but Moegi and Setsuko had just recently officially gotten together and as cute as that was, a new and in love couple always all over each other could become bothersome. Happy relationships and people publicly making love declarations just made him feel nauseous with memories he’d rather forget.
Unfortunately sitting here and feeling as bored as he was meant that he had enough time to wonder and worry about why he was here on a Saturday night with people who were at least four years younger than him, while most of the friends his age, especially Ino, had settled down and were starting a family. Yuuta liked his free life without anything holding him back, at least as long as he didn’t think too hard about it.
He was just about to give up and down his beer to finally leave and go home, to just continue drinking on his own, when the door to the bar opened and he only needed to take one look to recognise who had entered. Hyuuga Hanabi didn’t have much to offer in body height, in fact, she could barely reach Yuuta's chest, but her presence could fill a room easily. She often smiled brightly, spoke her mind freely and spread an aura of hard work and dedication. 
Most important of all: Hanabi and Yuuta were currently in a relationship, or better said, they had a friends with benefits thing going on. They’d been hooking up occasionally, mostly when either of them felt stress and needed an outlet. Hanabi’s cousin Neji was reworking their clan and while she wasn’t directly involved, as a potential clan heir (a role that, according to her, she wasn’t planning on taking anyway), Neji tried to keep her in the loop at all times. Which was nice and supportive, but also incredibly exhausting. 
Hanabi found them with her skilled eyes among the crowd and returned the little wave that Konohamaru gave her. She circled around the other tables and then pressed herself onto a pillow right next to Yuuta, who suddenly felt his mood greatly improved by her presence alone. “Sorry, I’m late”, she said and smiled, because of course she did, “I was held up at home.”
A short round of hello’s and exchanged pleasantries followed and Hanabi got her glass filled with beer, then everyone returned to the way it had been before. Hanabi finished her first beer almost in one go. 
“Slow down,” Yuuta said and pushed his elbow lightly into her side. “You don’t want to get drunk in an hour do you?”
Hanabi had a quick mind, which was one of the things Yuuta liked about her. “I have to catch up, don’t I?” She reached for the jug again to refill her glass. He just shrugged. 
She exchanged some words across the table with Konohamaru and then quickly realised just like Yuuta had previously, that while Konohamaru was physically present and trying to listen, he was mentally somewhere completely different. She turned back to Yuuta. “So they are still not hooking up huh.”
“Not everyone is as open as we are,” he replied and it satisfied him that what he said made her grin. 
The last time they had been together had been about a week ago, but then Yuuta had been on a mission and afterwards Hanabi had been busy with Neji and the clan issues. They had exchanged a short exchange over the new short messaging system Konoha had implemented and decided to meet again next week. And while he had sort of suspected she might have been invited to this mixer tonight too, he was still pleasantly surprised now that she was here.
It was easy to make conversation with Hanabi. It felt like with her he never ran out of things to talk about. When she pulled her shoulders up and made a face while talking about her sister as a newlywed and how exhausting that was. How she could laugh when she talked about missions she was doing and how she really wanted to train her own Genin someday and how attentive she would listen when he would talk. About his parents, about his own work, about his heritage. They were good friends, the occasional hookup didn’t change that.
They downed a few more beers and kept on chatting away, only broken up by Moegi and Setsuko who needed to push past them to go home. Both girls were still grinning ear to ear, hands wrapped up around each other and Yuuta wondered for a moment if they had ever let go of one another for even one second that evening. 
“Must be great being so in love, huh?” Hanabi murmured to herself as the two left. 
“Has its ups and downs.” Yuuta shuddered. Better not to think too much about it.
Hanabi turned to him and narrowed her eyes a little, but she did not ask, she never asked. That was another thing he liked a lot about her, the fact that she wasn’t pushing him to tell her things or do things with her or be her boyfriend in general. Normally, in relationships, Yuuta was the one that needed to hit the breaks with a partner because they wanted it all, but with Hanabi it was all alright the way it was.
Now that their deep conversation had been broken up she let her eyes wander over the rest of the table. “Udon,” she gestured to the boy opposite Yuuta. “When did those two go?” 
Right, Ko and Konohamaru were both no longer there. Yuuta hadn’t seen them leave either.
“Uh, about an hour I think.” Udon seemed a little embarrassed. “I think I should leave too, if you guys don’t mind.” He asked it as if he needed their permission, as if he didn’t exactly know that they didn’t mind being left alone. Yuuta suddenly felt a little bad for him, this evening Udon was possibly the only one going home alone. He made a mental note to take him out alone sometime. It wasn’T like he wasn’t a cute guy anyway.
They didn’t stop Udon leaving, not only because it would have made no difference anyway, because he would have not been persuaded, but also because both of them looked forward to being alone, at least that was how Yuuta felt.
“So, Ko finally won that war..?” Hanabi said. She had just emptied another beer. “I never thought Konoahmaru would give in ever, but tonight she really laid it on heavily on him.”
Yuuta laughed. “If they don’t go home together, he will definitely need some self love tonight after everything she did.” 
“You think he does stuff like that? Think of her while he touches himself?” Hanabi made a face as if the image in her mind felt disgusting.
“Most people think of someone they find attractive. Guys, especially.”
Hanabi’s eyes flickered up to him and the cheeky grin was back on her face. “Do you think of me when you are touching yourself?”
Yuuta didn’t know if it was the amount of alcohol, the heat in the bar or the direct approach but he could feel himself blush, actually blush. This was not something he was used to, the other way around actually. Yuuta was the one who made others blush. He was good at flirting, very good, in fact, he was so good at it that his mother had forbidden him to talk to friends her age out of fear he would hook up with them. He was just a charming guy and he knew how to use that correctly.
That someone made him flustered to the point that it made him speechless even if it was just for a second, was unheard of. He grabbed the glass on the table tightly and then winked back at Hanabi: “Sometimes.” It was his way of taking back control.
“Oh so there are other people you think about?” She put her chin onto the top of her fingers and watched him closely.
Somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow testing him. “I mean, you have to admit there is quite a big number of hot people in this village. It’s like there is something in the water.”
“Ah, you just say that because you haven’t been much in other villages.”
“Possibly,” Yuuta winked.
A moment where none of them talked then Yuuta asked: “And you? Do you think of me?”
The cheeky grin she had been wearing turned into her signature full on smile. “Most of the time.”
For the second time in a matter of minutes Hanabi had taken out the wind of sails in a way that had rarely happened before. He blinked a little unsure how to proceed from this point, but found his stride again almost as quickly as last time. “Well, if you want we could make your fantasy reality. You know where I live.”
She turned the glass under her fingers. “To be honest, that was why I came tonight. I knew you’d be here. Otherwise I might have just gone straight to your apartment.” She winked. “Though I have to admit it was nice drinking a little. I really did have the most stressful day.”
“Well, I think a little relaxing time is in order then,” Yuuta said. He took his last beer and emptied it in one breath. “So shall we go? I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”
They both got up and he offered the half-swaying Hanabi his arm so she could clutch to it. He refrained from telling her that he had told her at the beginning that she shouldn’t overdo it too much, mostly because she was too cute in this tipsy state to make fun of her now.
For that at least.
It was quiet and cold outside, so they huddled closer together for warmth. Hanabi barely reached Yuuta’s shoulders and so he watched from above how her ponytail was swaying while walking. It got him thinking about their conversation at the bar.
“I would love to see it by the way,” Yuuta said, leaning close down to her ear. “How you are touching yourself, I mean.”
She giggled a little and then knocked her head into his lower shoulder: “Shut up.”
He was happy to have the control back. Being left speechless twice in one night was enough.
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real-life-cloud · 7 months
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😰😰
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pascaloverx · 4 months
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DANDELIONS
Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.
Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.
AO3 LINK TWO
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ONE
"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.
"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.
"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.
"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.
"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.
"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.
"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.
"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.
"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.
"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.
"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.
"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.
"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.
"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.
"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.
"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.
"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.
"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.
"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.
"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.
"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.
"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.
"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.
"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.
"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.
You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.
"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.
"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.
"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.
"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.
"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?
"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.
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Is shattering permanent in the comic (especially with the force fusions and cluster) or can it be fixed down the line like future did? Asking for your opinion on this too bc I found out about it in Future and it makes me feel weird (bc now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension, so haven’t been able to read or write stories). Maybe I’m seeing this wrong? Would love your thoughts
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Hmm...
So to answer your first question: The comic for WDAU works on the same rules as canon does. I have no intention to over-write anything canon clearly stated to be true.
The ability to put back together shattered gems is definitely a part of that.
So yes, theoretically, even in WDAU, gems being shattered is not 'the end' because they can be eventually re-instated through the work of the diamonds, IF they someday decide to Change Their Minds like they did in the original series.
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That being said...
I want to talk a little bit about something you said, because it tickles my brain in an interesting way:
"now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension"
And the best way to talk about stuff, I've found, is to ask questions about our underlying assumptions. So my questions for you (all) today are:
For us humans, death certainly IS a constant that remains ever-permanent, and thus it's easy to compare it to shattering and draw that parallel... but is that a fair comparison?
In fiction, death is often circumvented and there still remains reasonable tension in things like magic-heavy worlds, vampire novels, sci-fi where almost any sickness is eradicated, etc. Is this not quite similar to what shattering is for gems?
Is the perceived permanency of shattering the only reason it feels like a heavy consequence?
Are there OTHER consequences of being shattered that make it just as interesting, if not more than, to be explored as a plot device?
Must there be an ever-looming threat of something horrible and permanent happening to make a story good?
There isn't a right or wrong answer to these questions, necessarily. I'm not posing these in order to lead you to a singular, 'absolutely correct' conclusion or way of writing.
For some stories, death DOES need to be permanent in order not to make light of what the characters go through! In some forms of writing, there IS no other way around that consequence.
But I daresay SU is not one of those stories.
Let me put it this way - 100 years ago, medicine had only BEGUN to develop into the thing we know it as today. Sure, there were therapies and treatments for diseases, broken limbs, poisonings, etc. Some of them were quite good, even! But overall, the death tolls back then from basic illness were MUCH higher than they were today.
Pnumonia, Malaria, Syphillis, Smallpox, Bubonic Plague, AIDS.
These were things that people died from, with near CERTAINTY, for the LONGEST time. They were considered the road to a permanent black screen.
And today? Even though they are still, without proper intervention, JUST as deadly, we now have new tools and vaccines to combat them. Hell, if you get vaccinated fast enough you can get bit by a rabid dog and live to tell the tale, unscathed! Rabies used to be a one-stop-shop to the afterlife.
Despite this, we still view these diseases with appropriate fear. They are still dangerous - in the right conditions.
In the right conditions, the consequences for a LOT of things can be permanent. If permanency is what you're looking for.
So alright, the Diamonds can heal shattered gems now. Booooring. How easy it is to fix any shattered gem! What a simple solution to anything tragic.
But................... will they ALWAYS do so?
In fact...will the Diamonds ALWAYS be around?
Will the gems who got shattered always be picked up, piece by piece, and be brought back to them, perfectly preserved? Or will they lose pieces of themselves along the way - literally?
And what NEW consequences can we think of, when we stop thinking of the permanency of death, and start thinking of the Impermanence of those tools that keep us here longer and longer?
Just food for thought. 👀
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writingwithcolor · 8 months
Text
My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?
@floatyhands asked:
I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man.  I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe.  I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!
Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights
There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism. 
The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere. 
Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.
The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.
Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.
But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others. 
This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.
Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.
I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press). 
For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor. 
There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.
Colonialism’s Popularity Problem
Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.
By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”
Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine. 
A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.
You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms”, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart. 
It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.
Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.
In Conclusion
Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.
You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.
You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their “best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.
Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept. 
Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.
~ Leigh
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edges-of-night · 29 days
Note
Hii! <3
I wanted to request imagines for reader taking care of the lotr characters (preferably all, but if that’s too much then at least the women and maybe Aragorn and Faramir too) when they’re sick/injured for whatever reason
(I love your imagines so much, the way you characterize them all is so perfectly amazing💜)
Thank you for your kind words! I did all of my usual characters because I love hurt/comfort and sick!fic scenarios that much haha! I hope you will enjoy your post ♡
Have a great weekend everybody!
CW: injuries and illnesses, mention of blood
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・゚✧ Aragorn.
While Aragorn’s heroic sacrifice didn’t cost him his life, it took a heavy toll on him. Lucky for him, you’ve spoken often enough about medicinal herbs and healing practices – you are able to take great care of him, bedded on his white linens. Even when he is still too weak to speak, Aragorn will hold your gentle hand.
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・゚✧ Arwen.
You return so often to Arwen’s bedside that you wonder if it would be easier to just stay – but you know that privacy and rest are just as important as her wish to hold your hand. Whenever you’re with her, you tend to her wounds or read her passages from her favourite book to make her smile, which Arwen appreciates immensely. As she rests, she plans on properly kissing you as soon as she’s healthy.
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・゚✧ Boromir.
Boromir hates that a common cold has him chained to the bed for over a week now. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy you taking care of him – even though you do tease him and his constantly red nose from time to time. It’s all in good fun though, and he cannot wait to hold and kiss you again!
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・゚✧ Elrond.
When Lord Elrond returned to Rivendell injured, your heart skipped a beat – he is the most skilled Elvish healer around – who else could treat the gaping, magical wound in his side? The honour is bestowed on you, and you master it despite your nervous mind. Nothing is greater encouragement than finally seeing Elrond’s summer eyes greet you again ♡
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・゚✧ Éomer.
The Rohirrim have all kinds of names for the strange fever that has befallen their dear Éomer – but no methods of healing. They consider it an impossible challenge for you to tame his feverish, sweaty body and nonsense mumblings. But, somehow, the horse lord calms whenever you reach his bedside, sighing when you change the wet cloths on his forehead and rest your hand on his chest.
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・゚✧ Éowyn.
Initially, Éowyn thinks nothing of the cut she got during sword lessons. But days of ignoring the wound on her hand could put her in grave danger, you know that – and thus offer to take a look and do what you can. At first, Éowyn protests, but she falls silent as soon as you turn her hand in yours, unaware of how soft her expression grows… She admires your medical knowledge, too! “Is there at all something you cannot do, you marvellous creature?”
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・゚✧ Faramir.
It takes days for Faramir to wake up. Many others believe him doomed and have given up on sitting by his side, trying new herbs and waters, only to see his crystal blue eyes open once more. But you have the matter-of-factly patience of a boat pushing its way through a deadly ocean. And indeed, on a moonlit night, Faramir’s gentle gaze awaits when you return to his side, whispering, “Thank you for believing in me, my love.”
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・゚✧ Frodo.
Sometimes you wonder if you are the only person to have consideration for both the physical and the mental wounds Frodo has endured. You always make sure he’s fine and support him when thoughts of the big scar on his chest sends him to dark places inside his mind. You both know that those wounds take much more time to heal than the cut itself, and Frodo is more than glad to have you by his side. To soothe him, you caress the scar.
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・゚✧ Galadriel.
Ever since a mysterious malady has befallen Lady Galadriel, Lothlórien is in turmoil. No one would even let you near her – until she ordered her guards away, to allow you to treat her with your medical and arcane knowledge. In fact, you become the only one she wishes to see in her elegant rooms at all. Despite her current weakness, her ethereal beauty and soft smiles make it hard for you to concentrate…
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・゚✧ Gandalf.
Out of breath, you hurry to Gandalf’s beside with that one legendary flower needed to cure him. He insists you be the one to prepare the potion, too. Day and night, you try to perfect his medicine, always worried his state might get worse. When Gandalf finally drinks your potion, the wound on his chest closes magically. But it’s nothing to Gandalf, who has trusted you entirely: “I never doubted you for a moment, my dear.”
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・゚✧ Gimli.
After Gimli’s accident in the mine, you were right by his side to ensure his head injury wouldn’t get much worse. His headache is hurting badly though, and your proud Dwarf is but a shadow of himself. He knows rest would be best for him, but it’s hard for him to stay away from work and banquets alike. Still, he appreciates that you pamper him with his favourite baked goods and healing kisses on his head ♡
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・゚✧ Haldir.
Haldir is not an easy patient, but that doesn’t stop you from treating his catastrophic shoulder, which he has ignored for days on his way through the woods of Lórien. Spread onto linen sheets beneath you, he grunts and cringes – as much as his half-dead stone face can, that is – under both your touch and your harsh words. But deep down, he knows you were simply worried – and honestly, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with that!
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・゚✧ Legolas.
It seemed inevitable that Legolas would someday break a leg because of his acrobatic archery skills, and yet you are surprised. Elves heal quickly, but Legolas suffers greatly under his involuntary immobility. You help him by recounting his favourite quest stories and eventually by supporting his first tentative steps outside, which he thanks you for with the stormiest embraces ♡
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・゚✧ Merry.
Merry thinks he can walk of anything – even an injured knee. He doesn’t want you to think of him as weak or unable to take care of himself. But even Merry can only play down a limp for so long. Truth be told, he is actually relieved that he no longer has to hide the pain, and that you spreading balm on his knee is no ordeal but in fact a very sweet gesture.
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・゚✧ Pippin.
Pippin has been sneezing and stumbling for days, eventually falling into bed with the biggest groan you have ever heard come out of him. He is a “suffering” patient and you know it. But while Pippin greatly enjoys you pampering him with food, tea and blankets, he secretly cannot wait to take care of you in return – no matter if you’re sick or not! “It’s you’re not actually sick, or else I couldn’ave kissed you!”
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・゚✧ Sam.
Gardening involves many dangers, and although Sam has been practising it since childhood, he eventually hurts himself on his gardening knife. The cut is deep and won’t stop bleeding, but you are quick to bandage it and remind him to change the fabric once a day. But Sam has trouble keeping his thoughts straight, when all he can think about is you holding his hand in yours, all close…
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crazyforclones · 4 months
Text
I am so ill over Mario and Peach
Continue reading to listen to me absolutely lose my mind over these goobers
Establishing character:
I just adore Mario and Peach so much. And before I get those funny people always like “oh Mario hates peach,” or “peach never “gives” Mario anything for saving her! He probably only does it to get something from her-“ Ima need yall to shut your trap ok 👹
First of all, Nintendo, especially with Mario characters, had no idea how to characterize their characters in the beginning. Peach changes in almost every single different medium. Take the old Nintendo power (I think) comic called the “super Mario adventures.” in which Peach is a lot more outgoing, strong, sassy, and a literal general.
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Not saying this is a bad rendition of peach I actually like it! But I use it as an example of how these characters have changed over the years. And also, often times in games or stories like these where they focus more on the characters than gameplay, we see a more accurate and fleshed out character. Which is why in some other Mario games, characters often say things that might seem rude or out of character but is put there for comedy. (Nintendo obsession with making fun of Luigi in every rpg game is an example 💀). And the same goes for Mario, he’s changed a lot. But I feel in the current renditions of the characters, they have a much more stable idea of their character.
Also another cute picture from the comic-(sorry quality poopy I took it from mine)
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This is peach dreaming about marrying Mario btw.
Mario’s character:
From what we see now, Mario is just an average blue collar man in his late twenty’s who is quite short and also plump. Despite this he is still THE most brave, athletic, talented, determined, occasionally hot headed, and an overall idol to the entire mushroom kingdom. He is often labeled as THE Mario. And people also express their surprised when they actually see what he looks like 💀. But the reason I bring this up is Mario is quite literally just some guy. He’s some guy who entered this foreign kingdom, heard there was a Princess in trouble, and as a New York Italien blue collar worker he could’ve easily just went on with his day or ignored these random peoples pleas, but instead, he immediately decides he will travel multiple worlds so he can save this princess and help the kingdom (also cause the game needed a incentive but still-). From the get go mario was ready to help people. He helps them not expecting anything in return, but because he has a good sense of Justice. There’s hundreds of side quests you can do with Mario, sometimes they’re ridiculous. But you know what? Mario will do it. Because he likes helping people. Because he’s a role model. And because he’s just a good guy.
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Mario and Peach as a couple:
Most of the time, people who criticize or make fun of their relationship are often doing it as a joke which is fine, but this is for the people who genuinely think Peach is a jerk for not giving Mario “more” for what he does.
People often say “Mario has saved her so many times and all he gets is a kiss on the cheek!”
Now despite the fact Peach doesn’t owe Mario anything just because he saved her, I can see why people might be upset over this. However, like I said before, Mario does things not expecting rewards, but just because it’s the right thing to do and he has a duty.
People forget one dire things when it comes to love like this:
Love can be shown in many different ways
Peach kissing Mario in the cheek wasn’t proof that they were in love or together. I’d argue they weren’t really at all in the beginning. Except maybe a slight crush. A kiss on the cheek is often just a gesture of gratitude. Peach usually kissed anyone who saved her. It’s just her way of saying thank you.
What really shows that Mario and peach love one another is how they interact. The things they say and do. They don’t need to kiss to prove they’re in love, it’s simply implied with how they interact with one another. Whether it’s small gestures like holding one’s hand before a big game, or something such as trusting the other person to give you a boost so you can save your partners rabbid version of themselves from an evil space fish.
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Or! It can be something more direct, like peach literally looking Mario in the eyes and saying this:
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Or when she is scared but assured herself she will be ok as long as she has Mario!
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It’s these little things that speak larger than words. Mario and peach simply have a relationship that is there but doesn’t need to be forced down your throats to convince you that they’re in love. They simply are. And their love is shown in many ways. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, and so does Mario and Peach!
Now have Mario dancing like a middle aged dad snapping his little fingers to make Peach laugh :)
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uyuforu · 11 months
Text
Pick-a-Card: Your future Partner
₊ ⊹ ALLEGEDLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY₊ ⊹
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pile 1 -> pile 2 -> pile 3 ;; pick an image and scroll down to read your reading
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Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡
Ekta Oracle: The Medicine; The mind; The Balance + The Knife
Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: The Ruin; Aquarius Upright; The Guide; Pluto Upright + Sagittarius Reversed
Original Tarot de Marseille: 2 of wands reversed; The World; Ace of wands; The Tower reversed; The Empress; 7 of swords + The Chariot
Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: 9 of swords reversed; 2 of pentacles; Queen of wands; Jack of swords; The fool reversed; Knight of pentacles reversed; 5 of swords + Queen of cups reversed
Lenormand Oracle: The cross; The Man; The whip; The storks; The mouses; The fox + The woman
Love Languages Oracles: The wickedness; The same wavelength; Destiny's key; News incoming + Happiness, joy & felicity
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𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
-> So this pile has a very strong message. There is a feeling that your future partner is currently healing from something very strong, something very powerful but mostly something very wicked. They could have had a sort of illness, they could have been the victim of someone, but there is a very bad energy there. The healing can be mental healing, seeing a therapist, or even medicine. For a lot of you, this person was mentally abused. It's a trauma that happened and they are healing currently. But it still hurt a lot to them. If you never met this person before, you could meet them during their healing process. This person could be an Aquarius or/ and has strong Pluto's placement in their chart. I see this person to really have their heart broken from what happened, they feel like their heart, even life, has been destroyed, my heart feels very heavy. They can appear as quite different, an outsider, or just someone who is unique, and people can not get them, or just think of them as the black sheep. Their healing will guide them towards a strong and meaningful transformation. But it's extremely hard for them.
I see something blocking them, or it was the case in the future. It's like they had a really big conflict, or they lived a situation with a lot of heavy blockages in their life. But it suddenly feels like things will get better, they will get through a healing phase and they will feel so much better afterwards. It's like their healing will push them to take new beginnings, new opportunities, new projects, they will just feel so much alive, it feels like their rebirth. The cards are saying, the reason why it happened was because it was meant to happen. There is always a reason for our tower moments in life. This one happened because your future partner needed to change. They needed healing, and may have not understand it before. The hard moments happened because they needed to learn a lesson, to transform themselves. I feel like this person used to be close-minded and very judgmental before, but with the healing phase, they will become open-minded, more generous and kind towards others. It's like they will open themselves to their feminine side. It was maybe unbalanced before. Cards are saying your person will be rewarded for their hard work in their healing phase, they will become more energetic, and more extroverted too.
I have messages about the two of you. I'm not sure you know this person, but I feel like it doesn't matter. You will enter this person's life to help them through their healing era. I sense this person will not be healed fully when you guys meet, but your presence, your help, just you will help them see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's like seeing you will motivate even more to heal. There is a sense of admiration towards you. You will motivate them to face the truth, and the healing. It will be extremely hard, but they know it's for the better. You will help them find a balance back in their life, it's truly destiny if you guys meet. You are their reward.
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Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡
Ekta Oracle: The cup; The city; The bunny + The link
Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: 1st house; Capricorn; 4th house; 10th house; Saturn + Jupiter
Original Tarot de Marseille: Jack of wands; King of cups; Ace of swords; 4 of pentacles reversed; The moon reversed; 5 of pentacles reversed + The justice
Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: 3 of swords; The hierophant; 8 of pentacles; The sun; 7 of pentacles; 2 of pentacles + The star
Lenormand Oracle: The lucky charm; The house; The mask; The clouds; The letter; The ring + The fox
Love Languages Oracles: Past coming back; Good harvest; Setbacks; Destiny's Key + Fidelity
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𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
-> This person is someone who seems to be pretty established in life already. Someone who have their money, their place, they are independent. They work, they have their life and do not live with their parents anymore. There is a feeling of being the boss, owning their life. Ambitious person. Money is very important to them, they could invest a lot. They may live in a big city. A city where things are moving fast, people are always in a hurry, they could also be in a hurry all the time. I sense that for some of you, you know this person? There is a feeling of already knowing each other, or you guys will feel like you always knew each other. I think they can seem or be a bit selfish sometimes: their business, their life and even themselves are very important for them. They invest a lot of their times into themselves, but can seem selfish sometimes. Capricorn can be significant, 1st, 4th, 10th house too, Saturn and Jupiter too. I think this is a very lucky person. It feels like they succeed everything they do, or get everything they want. They are not good at manifesting, they are just very hard working. They see their legacy as the most important thing for them. This is why they work so hard. So accomplishing, and their career are soooo important to them. They appear as the real Daddy type (nothing s3xual lol), but there is this strong masculine and dominant energy.
Such a hard working person! They work so hard for what they do. Don't call them lazy because they will def take it as the worst thing you could ever say to them lmao. They have a cup to provide to you, this is the kind of mature person to offer you their cup, and offer you stability. A true King (because of the king of cups lol, nothing to do with gender). If success was a person, that would be them. They are so victorious. To be honest, I think this person didn't grow in money, and saw it as security. They worked hard because they may have been poor when growing up. For them, money was the answer to a happy life. But don't be mistaken, this person is not shallow haha. They are actually good at questioning himself. He doesn't think only him matters. They are well educated, and even went to college for sure. To them, they just want to be the most successful they can be, and want to be able to provide money for their loved one. They just work so hard for their money. And negotiating money could be a thing in their job. And signing contracts relating to money too. Their job can be very anxious at time. I think you will feel like, or already feel like if you know them, that this person has no time for you, and it may feel like that at times. They are so busy with their job and life, you just feel like a burden. But don't worry because this person will maker you feel like you belong with them. They will make sure to make you fit in their life.
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Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡
Ekta Oracle: The knife; The feather; The books + The exchange
Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: Treason; The sun; Woman's star + Virgo
Original Tarot de Marseille: Jack of pentacles; 7 of wands; 9 of swords; Knight of swords; 2 of wands reversed; 7 of cups + The strength
Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: 6 of wands; Knight of swords; 2 of pentacles; 10 of swords reversed; Ace of cups; 4 of pentacles reversed + The devil
Lenormand Oracle: The tower; The sun; The mountain; The tree; The woman; The magnificent glass + The house
Love Languages Oracles: Total success; Passionate love; Setbacks; Break-up + Destiny's key
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𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
-> So, first of all, if you don't know this person, then it's not your pile. This pile feels so situation-ship, ex, or even friends with always something that has been going on. There is a vibe here of someone who hurt the other by text, or it's something that has been said, or something written (text, email, letter, etc.). But it was on purpose. So either you or this person wrote to the other person to tell them something, some piece of information that hurt the other. It could totally be intentional, or not, but it def hurt. If it was something someone posted online for ex for the other to see, it was still something that hurt, and it was a sort of information shared. You could totally be in a distant or no contact situation with this person. You or them felt like there was a betrayal.
But!! There is clarity. One of you see or finally realize that the other person is the one for them. You or them always wanted to be with you/ them (takes as it resonates). It's a sudden realization. Someone wants to come back to make things right. Someone thinks now is the best time to take actions, everything seem to be alined perfectly. Someone could have been like a seducer, before or been seen this way by the other person. Someone could have been blocked, or this person felt stuck before. Like they couldn't come forward. But now they know the other person is their person, and it's like they came to realization they want to marry them.
This person has thought a lot of what they want to say, and they are ready to come forward and defend their thoughts and actions. They won't give up easily. If you have been waiting for someone to come back into your life, this is huge sign. Or if you wanted to come back in someone's life. There will be communication, and the person who will come forward (you or them) will express how hard it was to be without the other person, and how cruel life has been. They will express that they are ready to give their cup. I'm not sure you guys ever been in a relationship before to be honest, it felt like to be in a relationship with them has never been experienced before. But they want to try, and they will express it when they come forward. They want to be with the other person. There are so much desire for each other, you guys can feel the pull towards each other. But there might be a lack of financial stability that can come in the way to each other. There is much love, it's very passionate for sure. The person needed time to realize they feelings, time apart each other only made them realized their love for the other person. This person wants to come forward and build a life with the other person. They want stability together.
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Thank you so much fo reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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nuumbie · 4 months
Text
KARMA’S A DOG.
Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.
Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.
Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.
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He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that. There’s something in him that still lives.
He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has left of his old self. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?
Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There’s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings or creatures that change themselves so drastically. Boothill is obstinately simple.
You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt and those that follow it is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.
Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.
If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.
Boothill is special.
The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.
“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”
It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.
“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”
“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”
“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. You act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his discontentment because it keeps him on his toes. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”
“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language… your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks? If it was anyone else. They’d have torn you asunder.”
“Aeons of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”
“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “Is it for me?”
“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something something kike an insult. You just know it’s bad because he says it in a way that’s so vitriolic it almost hurts. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”
You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.
But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is. With how things are going? You’re not making it hard.
He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.
Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.
It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.
You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter till it threatens to break between his metal appendages.
Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk with his hand on your throat.
The floor hits you. Hard.
Or maybe you hit the floor.
Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death? Innocent have died in uglier ways.
“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest and juts against your lungs— “make up your mind you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”
You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here… will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”
“Might as well limit the casualties.”
“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots are more precise. Everything about him is human. The way he’s so sentimental, emotional at your lap, while you can do nothing but watch. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”
“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist. So people like me get that just-dessert.”
“I could never ever dream of it. I could never do it with my own hands.” You smile remembering where you work. Your boss. The things you never had the confidence or strength to do yourself. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”
He looks down at you.
He steps back.
You already know.
Too self-aware for your own good.
Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you is a look of disgust.
“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor like he’s snuffing a cigarette out. so lowly. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”
You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—
Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”
“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself…!”
He doesn’t even look back at you. You wish he did.
He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.
On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.
And your life will continue as always.
You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you. You hope Oswaldo doesn’t notice. He’s the tricker.
“Fuck you, too.”
You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you. You’d use the word save. But, that’s what he was meant to do.
You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.
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I loved your peter vs Alastor story, can we possibly get a part two? Like maybe Peter is looking for her and she hears about it through the news or something from missing persons reports. She’s changed her name and Alastor has told her there’s nothing to worry about, but keeps having dreams about Peter finding her? You can choose how it ends!
A/N: I didn’t think people would want a part two to that but since you asked you shall receive! I love writing about Yanderes going against each other it’s so much fun 🤗. I watched the first four episodes of Hazbin Hotel and guys i LOVE IT SO MUCH. I’m so glad I waited for this show, and I’m so glad other people are enjoying it as much as I am. Special thanks to @a-bookworms-teashop or also known as @forbidden-sunlight, for helping me with this short story! As per usual we all know I like cliffhangers so expect a part three soon <<33 happy reading & enjoy!
Warnings: violence, obsessive tendencies, mentions of blood, lots of manipulation, talks of mental abuse, lots of dark content ahead!!
Songs you can listen too while reading: Close to you by Rihanna. Slipping through my fingers by ABBA. Desire by Megan Myers. Love on the Brain by Rihanna. Forget her by Jeff Buckley. Meet me in the hallway by Harry Styles. The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo.
Part 1
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
Forget her
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Living in New Orleans was nice. People were always so kind, and everyone was so welcoming. Getting a new name was easy, surprisingly. The government didn’t make it hard to run away from psycho ex boyfriends who didn’t know how to take a hint. Living with Alastor was nice. He was always a gentlemen, a gentle man, a good lover too. He made sure to never treat you the way Peter did.
In fact he was quite the opposite with you. Inviting you out to parties with him, keeping you out of the public eye as to not bring the wrong type of attention around. Everything felt like it was starting to get better. He would bring you flowers, take you to work with him even, or work from home. Alastor was nothing short of the perfect boyfriend. In fact he was perfect and more.
But lately, something seemed to have you on edge. He had been fidgety. Checking his phone constantly but always reassuring you with the polite smile. A reassuring one he tried to keep on, but you saw right through. He was hiding something and you wanted to know what.
According to Husk, Peter had since moved out of the apartment he had been living in, with no notice too. He had gone completely ghost. There was no sign of him anywhere, according to your knowledge. It was a Saturday evening when it had all happened. When your intuition had finally proved to be right.
“You said I wouldn’t be seen.” You said, the article about an appearance the two of you had made up on your phone. Alastor was walking through the kitchen, tossing various ingredients into a large pot, his jambalaya coming along nicely.
“ Dear please, there hasn’t been any sign of you for months. I doubt the bastard has even seen it, let alone have any access to technology.” He brushed you off with a chuckle, sliding the ingredients off the cutting board and into the pot. You sighed and put your phone down on the counter. Maybe you were being over paranoid. But ever since reading the article, a chill had ran up your spine that didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon. Alastor noticed you looking off to the side, lost in your own mind. He reaches out, hands brushing your sides gently. “Why don’t you take a bath, hm? Ill even set it up for you. What do you say dear?” He asks calmly, a hand on your lower back, ushering you out of the kitchen and past the open living room, making your way down the hall to the bathroom.
“ Alright fine. But we need to talk about this later.” You say, and he responds to you with a kiss on your cheek. You go to your shared bedroom, going through the large walk in closet to find a change of clothes for after your bath. The water is running in the bathroom, the smell of fragrances light on your senses. You make your way back to the bathroom to see Alastor leaning over the tub slightly, candles already lit on the sides of the tub to allow you to relax. There’s your favorite book next to a cup of wine, along with the radio playing light jazz. Everything is perfect, as it should be, and for a moment you can forget the feeling of strained eyes on you. You can forget it all as you’re embraced by a man who loves you. Who truly cares.
“ Take your time darling. I must run out for a bit to get some extra ingredients. Will you be fine without me?” He asks, taking the robe from you as you sink down into the tub, eyeing you carefully, enough to give you butterflies. You smile, one of his favorites and nod, reaching to the side to pick up your glass of wine, the red stains your lips slightly as you pull the cup away.
“I think Ill be okay, thank you love. Be quick please, I might just nap here.” You say jokingly. Alastor smiles, folding your robe up neatly in his hands before nodding to you lightly. He leans down to kiss you, a soft tender kiss, before leaving you in the bathroom alone. It’s when you hear the front door shut that you sigh, now knowing he’s gone. The water is just right, just warm enough on your skin for you to rest your eyes a bit.
A bit turns into an hour, and when you hear a loud glass shatter from the kitchen is when you wake up from your nap. You hadn’t been serious about sleeping in the tub, but mistakes happen. You quickly pull at the drain, the water slowly slipping down as you grab your towel and get yourself dressed, sliding a simple nightgown on before stepping out of the bathroom. “Alastor?” You call, but you’re met with silence. Your vision is hazy, the steam from the water seeming to create some sort of film over your sight, but you manage. Walking down the hall and into the living area, you see a vase shattered on the ground. What you don’t expect to see, is a distraught Peter standing across from you.
“Guess again Baby.” He says with a smile. He sighs and takes in your appearance, eyes completely devouring your appearance. “What are you doing here?” You ask, panic written all over your face.
“How did you find me?” You ask again. Peter tuts at you, standing straight up, revealing just how tall he really was in comparison to you. He has a folder in his hand, one he throws on the floor in between the two of you, and it just barely touches your feet as it slides across the floor. “What is this?” You ask, eyeing him closely. He grins, hands behind his back as he watches you pick up the folder.
“Your perfect boyfriend.” He responds. The pictures inside reveal themselves before you can even process whats going on. Pictures of Alastor and you about in the city. Ones of the two of you at home, the two of you at dinner. Intimate moments, things that were supposed to be private. All laid out right in front of you. A picture of Alastor and you at a friends wedding. His face was burned out of the photo, but you knew who it was. The more photos you looked through the more you found. Magazine clippings of Alastor with you in the town. Paparazzi seeing you both together at parties, dancing around each other like no one was watching but the worlds eyes were on you. Peters eyes were on you.
“He told me-“
“Told you what?” Peter snickered, stepping closer, the broken glass crunching under his feet. You kept going through photos, one right after the other. Then, one really caught your attention. Mimzy. She had been so obsessed with Alastor and how you were no good for him. Now, in front of you was a photo, the two of them with their arms around each other, almost like lovers, but not quite friends. How long ago was this? Why didnt he tell you about this?
“He doesn’t love you. Not the way I do.” Peter said, stepping closer, arms raising for a hug. “ Let’s just go home. We can put this all behind us. I can forgive you.” He said, a smile on his face. He was still the same. He thought he had done no wrong. He lowers his arms when he sees you don’t come closer, but instead reaches for your hands, pulling them to his chest. “What do you need? Money? I can give you that. If- if you want more freedom we can go out! We can do whatever you want-“ He pleaded, eyes begging for yours to look at him. “Please, just come back. He took you away from where you were safe. Now you have everyone judging you, when you don’t need that.” He said, hand cupping your chin to force you to look at him. “Are you really happy here?” He asks.
It feels like time freezes for a moment. Were you really happy? All the press, Alastor always being gone or out at parties. The social events. The liquor, the drugs. The dancers and the crowds of people together. With Alastor, it was always a party. But with Peter, things were different.
With Peter, you were quiet. Alone but without the drugs, the partying and the social interaction. With Peter you really never lifted a finger, not like you physically could. Peter always brought gifts home, even if he was upset with you. He always did laundry, had things neat and tidy, or as much as they could in the small apartment. With Peter, you were taken care of. With Peter, you lived a calm life.
Well, at least that was how he saw it.
With Peter, there was a constant fear surrounding you. Suffocating you. He never let you live, took away your freedom and your life to keep you tied down to him. He had hurt you on multiple occasions, raising a hand to the person he swore to love so dearly. He had threatened to kill your family, your friends, anyone who stood in between the two of you. Peter didn’t love you, no, he was obsessed. Did you really want that life back?
“I.. I am happy here.” You finally said, pulling yourself away from Peter. His eyes looked defeated. He looked, complex. In a matter of seconds his demeanor changed entirely, standing tall in his anger, his pride.
“Happy? Happy with a man who took you from me?!” He yelled, lunging forward and caging you between him and the wall. His eyes looked manic, like something had snapped. It was only then you noticed him reaching into his pocket, glass shard in hand. “I told you what would happen if you ever left.” He said, hand in the air as the shard came down quickly. A slice to your cheek had you sliding down the wall, tears streaming down your face as blood ran down your neck, fingers shakily holding onto yourself for some support.
“Peter please-“ you pleaded with a whisper. Even after all these months away from him he still managed to make you feel so small.
“I see what’s going on.” He said, chuckling a bit. He crouches down, eye level with you now. “He has you completely brainwashed doesn’t he. I’m sure he-“ He stops when he hears the front lock being turned. The door opens to reveal a humming Alastor, eyes shut as he hums a song to himself softly. He turns to lock the door, before turning back around, finally opening his eyes to see the sight of Peter and you on the ground.
Everyone is quiet for a moment. Peter looks panicked, Alastor looks, unreadable, and you look, frightened. Alastor drops the bag of groceries, and before you can process what’s happening there’s a knife being drawn from under his shirt sleeve. Not a large one, but a size big enough to kill a man. To kill Peter. Peter stands quickly, clutching the glass shard in his hand so tight he begins to cut himself. The two meet in the middle, Peter swinging to try to slice Alastors neck. Something about the way Peter misses, the way Alastor inhales sharply. His eyes widen but in a different way. One you’d never seen from him before. There’s a difference in the way his eyes gloss over, the shine in them just a bit brighter than before.
Nothing would ever be the same after tonight.
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weirdo-fun · 4 months
Text
What Else Can I Do?
Azriel x Reader - Chapter 1
Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic. I don't know if this will be good at all or people will even like it. This idea has been in my head for a few months and I finally caved and wrote it. This will be a few chapters maybe 3 chapters long? I don't know but I hope you enjoy! Also side note grammar is not my strong suit, so if there are any grammar mistakes please be nice. :)
Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.
Word Count: 1.7 K
Warnings: Bickering, slight dislike of inner circle, slight enemies to lovers, fem! reader, reader being sort of a rebel
Author's Note: Was this slightly insipred by "What Else Can I Do?" From Encanto? Maybe... (I do not claim or take credit for the song, all rights for the song go to the respected owners)
Side Note: Azriel will come into the story later I promise.
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“Why do you let them do that to you?” You ask Elain as you sit on in arm chair with both legs draped across one arm of the chair with your back leaning against the other one. The book you were just reading now lay on your chest as you look at Elain who is sitting, a lot more elegantly, on a sofa adjacent to you. You wait for her to answer as you give her a questionable look. 
She sheepishly looks up from her own book. “I don’t mind it. I know they only want whats best for me and to protect me.” You raise an eyebrow at her not entirely believing her. “Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you that they practically tell you what you can and can’t do?” You ask, pushing the conversation more. 
These have been questions you have had for a while. Ever since you and Archeron sisters were thrown into the caldron and turned High Fae, everyone decided, weather subconsciously or not, to keep Elain in this sort of bubble. Treating her as this precious flower that needs all the protection from everyone. You never had any ill will towards Elain, she is a very feminine woman who does tend to be on the more soft spoken side, which is what makes Elain Elain. This is what gravitated you towards Elain and wanting to be her friend. Being a very outspoken and extroverted person you always tended to befriend the more quiet types. It has always been this way since you were a child. The extroverted girl talking and hanging out with the introverts. You don’t know why you subconsciously gravitated to being friends with the quieter crowd when you were the complete opposite. Maybe it gave balance in your life. You being the talker and the other one being the listener. You don’t know why or how but those friendships always worked out when you were mortal. 
That was true until you accidentally, more like breaking a rule, decided to take a stroll in the middle of the night throughout the Archeron estate. You were a newly hired servant and you were too excited for your new job that you couldn’t sleep so you walked around the estate and ended up in the middle of the crossfire of the Archeron sisters, Nesta and Elain, being kidnapped. You of course jumped in to help but ended up being taken as well. 
After being turned and by the grace of the Mother, the Inner Circle allowed you to stay even though you weren’t related to the Archeron’s. You were still turned fae and needed a place to stay. Although the healing process was slow and mostly done on your own you never thought the inner circle was completely bad.  
It wasn’t until Elain finally started to come around and was healing from her trauma when you decided to befriend her. You guys fastly became close. Mostly thanks to you for always seeking her out and wanting to strike up a conversation. From the outside it may have appeared that you kept forcing yourself in her life but Elain wouldn’t turn you away and she would start conversations a good portion of the time. But it was when you guys started to become close that you noticed the treatment that the inner circle gave her. You never said anything in the beginning thinking you were thinking too much into it. But after so many days, and even weeks of the same treatment that you were questioning everything regarding Elain. 
You have questioned Elain about this treatment but she would brush it off saying things like “oh well i don’t see a difference” or “it’s ok Reader they are just being friendly and making sure I am ok.” And you haven’t pushed Elain further until today. 
A certain bat boy got under your skin earlier. And to be frank, he actually has always gotten under your skin when it comes to Elain. He is the master of the “delicate flower treatment” towards Elain. This treatment would be cute if 1) he was courting her, which he isn’t and 2) if it was dialed waaaaay back and the treatments actually respected her as being a true adult woman and not a fragile little girl. 
Azriel, is the bat that gets under your skin. You have tried to be friendly to him but he never talks to you and you never know what he is thinking. His face, although you first thought very handsome when you first met him, is always expressionless and stone cold. You have tried to be civil with him but because of your outspoken and extroverted nature he mostly disagrees with you for the simple fact that he knows you don’t like how he treats Elain. You have confronted him before about the matter in a friendly way but he shut you out and blew you off saying how you don’t know anything about what Elain has gone through and you don’t know whats best for her. The whole interaction left your relationship with him strained. And since then both you and Azriel have been on opposite sides on everything. Both wanting to challenge each other and win; never seeing eye to eye.  
Elain sheepishly shrugs. “I don’t think they really do-.” “Girl, no they do.” You interrupt her sternly. She looks at the ground and her posture slouches a little and you can tell that she knows your right. That her sister, with Cassian, and especially Azriel treat her as a fragile little princess. That anything can break her. But she survived the Caldron, she survived her trauma from it. You know she is a strong woman and you try to show her that; try to show the inner circle that. “You know I am right.” You say in a firm way as you swing your legs from on top of the arm rest to sitting right in the chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. She looks at you with innocent and confused eyes. “Well, I don’t know what to say to them when they tell me what I can and can’t do. I just agree because I don’t want to create conflict with them.” She softens her tone at the end, getting shy and embarrassed. “But is that what you want?” You ask her straight in the eye. “To keep agreeing with whatever they say and tell you how to live your life? To not have an opinion or a say? Is that what you want?” You ask in a calm yet concerned manner. “Well, it’s just that-” “Is that what you want?” “Well no but-” “Is that what you want?!” “I can’t just-” “ELAIN! Is that what you want?!” You yell for a third time. Wanting to hear her true feelings, her true thoughts and opinions on the matter. With no bullcrap excuse about how she won’t mind for stupid reasons. And no running away from this conversation. 
“No.” She speaks so softly that you don’t hear it. “What?” You ask leaning into her to hear what she said. “No” Elain says. You hear it this time, but her head is down and her hair is fell in front of her face, not being able to see her. “Elain what did you say? I can’t hear you?” You lie to her to try and get her to voice her opinion louder and to lift her head up and say it more confidently. She slowly lifts her head, straightens her back and looks at you with truthful eyes. “No. That is not what I want.” She says without her voice wavering. “I would like to go out shopping when I want to go. I would like for them to tell me things straight up and stop carefully stepping around eggshells thinking I won’t be able to handle it, that I might break.” 
You smile at her. Proud that she was finally able to say what she was feeling out loud. You walk over to her and pull her up to stand and give her a hug. “That is all I wanted to hear you say.” You look at her proudly holding onto her upper arms. “But, I still don’t know how to tell that to them. You know it’s hard for me to voice my opinion.” You shake your head. “We will take this one step at a time. Step one was to get you to voice out loud to me what you actually want. And we did that, so congratulations.” You tease as you walk back over to the arm chair you were sitting at to pick up the book you were reading. “Well then what’s the next step?” Elain asks curiously. You smirk and turn towards her. She sees the smirk on your face knowing you are already planning something. Her eyes widen in concern because every time you had a plan it would always get you in trouble and Azriel would always be the one to scold you. But you keep doing these “plans” because you didn’t care what Azriel was going to tell you.
“Remember when you told me that you thought my power could do so much more, than make pretty plants and flowers?” You ask as you create just a simple pink rose on your hand. “Yes.” She nods, not knowing where this conversations was going. You smile, “Well, I have been secretly trying to practice to create new things but it’s hard when just in the confines on my room.” You hand her the pink rose that you just created. “Why don’t we take a walk through the forest. And maybe along our walk I try to practice without the worry of the inner circles eyes and ears.” You ask sheepishly. “Look I know this is supposed to be about you but I would just like to be with my favorite person in the forest exploring my power more without judging eyes.” You plead. Elain nods and gives a small smile. “Thank you Reader for wanting to help me. And if helping me also includes me being able to see your power that I am super jealous of by the way, then yes.” You smile at her, grab her hand and both of you guys start to giggle like little girls as you guys walk out of the living area planning to “sneak out”. 
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That is it for Chapter 1! Did I also give Reader Isabela's powers?...Read the next chapter to find out! I am already thinking about chapter 2 and I promise Azriel and Reader will be interacting with each but I was setting everything up until then. But chapter 2 may take me while to publish because I am getting ready for my vacation but depending on how people react to this I may be motivated to publish it sooner. ;) Please if you have feedback leave a comment because I would love to read them. Thank you so much for reading and if you made it this far. Until next time, take care everyone!
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
cold nights // part thirty-two
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summary: the end.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n:
the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(
ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!
if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!
just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')
see you soon!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board
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You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.
Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.
It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.
Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.
"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.
"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.
"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."
"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."
"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.
"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.
"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.
You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.
The funeral.
All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.
"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."
"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"
You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."
"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."
"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.
"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."
The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.
You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.
It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.
Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."
You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.
You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.
You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.
Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.
He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.
Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.
He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.
As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.
Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.
"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.
"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."
"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."
You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.
"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.
"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.
"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.
"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."
He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."
"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.
This was it. This was your breaking point.
Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.
Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"
"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.
When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."
You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."
"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."
You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.
"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.
"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."
"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."
You pry your eyes open to face him.
"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"
"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.
"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."
"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.
"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."
"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.
"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"
"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.
He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"
You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.
"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.
Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.
"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."
"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."
"That should not be enough, though." You insist.
"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.
He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."
"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.
He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"
"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.
You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.
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