#HOPE ANY OF THESE ARE READABLE SORRY

[sadclowncentral]

wait Lew I have a space law question, how do we decide who gets to put satellites where? like I know there's thousands of satellites in low Earth orbit, how close can someone put a new satellite to old ones? how crowded is that situation? and there's a buncha scientific satellites (the only space thing I know something about) that are all in very similar orbits, who gets to add a satellite to that train? do people fight over spots?

good question! generally, there is a freedom of the exploration and use of outer space, so everyone can do what they want up there as long as they don't violate any other laws - and, as long as outer space remains "free for exploration and use by all States without discrimination of any kind, on a basis of equality and in accordance with international law" (Art I OST). now, what the fuck does that mean, i hear you ask, and to that i shrug and smile politely because we are still figuring that out. outer space is becoming increasingly congested, and it's use is certainly not equal - while the USA owns HALF of the satellites in space, there are many countries who have launched no objects yet, even though many critical infrastructures depend on the access to space. you see the problem.

fights over spots do happen, especially in GEO. this is the geostationary orbit, which is 35,786 km above the equator - satellites here orbit as fast as the earth turns and therefore remains over the same spot of the earth forever, which is crucial for telecommunication (imagine adjusting your satellite dish every minute to watch TV). and those spots are very coveted, as they are very, very limited. there have been multiple attempts of the UN to regulate this on an equitable basis, none of them successful (in my opinion).

equitable access to outer space remains a huge problem and inequalities on earth are often exacerbated in outer space - which is why we need national regulation that actually implements Art I OST instead of ignoring it! (looking at you, US of fucking A)

[mintypsii]

not a part 2, but here's a prequel to this sanuso comic I did last month !!! (takes place the night before ,, technically after the first three panels)

[doubleedgemode]

Just in time before Slayer finally drops, I have finally drawn him interacting with A.B.A (and Paracelsus) because... Please Strive give them some interactions. This is going to be obsolete in like 2 days lol.

My headcanon for the exact moment where they meet again after years is that Slayer holds no ill towards them and if anything he's eager to see them again, A.B.A is shocked and feels quite wary. (Couldn't think any dialogue for her) Wheres Paracelsus gets... a bit... uneased and scared after their last encounter (don't worry, this is still part of the very new awkward meeting, I think he'd keep a cooler head later)

[theloveinc]

i love it when u talk about shinsou. like ur brane is just cooking up some wonderful stuff about this man……

not TO TOOT MY OWN HORN too much, BUT... yeah my Shinso really is the best. Or rather, I should say, one of them.

Something absolutely ferocious about him when he is depicted as beefy and stern but squishy as a gummi bear on the inside. Literally incapable of smiling but can't ever be mean to you, either (unless you're in trouble and he's worriedddd). Thick hands, even thicker heart that just bleeds and bleeds and bleeds for you and only you, HE'D LITERALLY JUST DIE IF THAT'S WHAT U ASKED HIM TO DO. Pine for one billion years if you didn't love him back.

He's gotta be kinda pathetic tho, too. Not in a... lame way, but like: his bed has one sheet on it kind of way, and there's only ketchup in his fridge... like, he sees no reason to pull himself together unless it's you who's asking (he does take care of his cat, though. I really do love a cat man more than anything).

AND SHINSO STILL GETS KINDA JITTERY touching you, at least those first few months. He's so realistic, he's like: "oh I know they can't be chased away that easily har har," but then he's kissing you and he's so scared there's a chance one day it might stop that his heart is hurting and he's making it all intense for no reason. And as you end up closer and closer together on his bed, your knee moving to straddle his lap, YES HIS LEG IS BOUNCING IT'S SO AJSDGLAJKSHFJKAHFKJAHFKJNJKHKJFHADLJKFHA and he keeps trying to distract you from looking at him too hard.

He has to blow your mind w/ that peen of his to make himself feel better about the whole thing. Like why are you hurting all day the next day for no reason and he's acting like nothing happened (except he doesn't brush his hair still asjkdfhjk).

Anyway I could go on fucking FORVER about this guy I want him 20 feet up in my guts immediately I would have 1000s of his children but he barely even wants two I NEED TO USE HIS HERO MONEY TO DONATE TO CHARITY AND HE WOULDN'T EVEN STOP ME.

Thank you, anon!!

[ilovebeingaturtle]

Besides 87 raph what’s your opinion on the other iterations just curious

Assuming you mean the other iterations of Raph? So! Cracks knuckles here we go-

First of all I really enjoy 90s Raph, just the fact? His ass keeps getting into trouble? Like first movie he’s thrown through a window, second movie he gets kidnapped by the Foot, this boy is accident prone and I love it AHA also his accent is super fun. I wouldn’t rank him tooo highly on a list of favourites? 90s!Donnie is my favourite live action turtle overall, but he’s great! And if you add on 07 as the fourth movie for this version of turtles he’s awesome, I fucking love the concept of the nightwatcher!!! And his dynamic with Casey in that movie might be my favourite version of the duo, good Raph all around pats his head

Feel like I should also add on my thoughts about Next Mutation Raph here too while on the topic of like-the live action turtles, but I honestly don’t have much to say yet AHA, I’ve only seen like four episodes so far and I think Venus is the only character I really like from it (she’s so lovely,,,my sweet daughter,,) OH also! Adding on again with live action, I think the fact that Raph is one of the singers for the stageshow tours is fucking brilliant AHA, something about him being musical inclined just feels right for me (maybe because 87!Raphael loves singing all the time so seeing other iterations do it makes me happy? Who is to say) also the suit designs are just really cute I love their goofy accessories

03! 03! I LOVE 03! One of the lamest Raph’s but that just endears him even more to me, his lines are just so. Cheesy and uncool, and they’re delivered with the gruffest thickest accent ever, it’s perfect. He’s also just such a good brother, he can be so patient and supportive, 03 has such a well rounded team man. Like the bonds are so strongggg, you really feel such a connection between all the turtles. Like I adore his back and forth with Mikey, him and Donnie’s dynamic I feel like I don’t even need to talk about and him and Leo are so sweeeeet. Oh! Also! Love how Fast Forward made him the tallest, it’s perfect boy had a growth spurt. (Oh, also I hope this isn’t cheating by bringing up 87, but I love the dynamic Turtles Forever gave him with the 87 turtles. Could it have been written better? Yes. But is the concept of him slowly warming up to them and acting like their older brother adorable? Also yes.)

I think if I’m going in release order IDW is next? In which case, YEAHHH THIS GUY! The idea that he briefly was alone after being first mutated is so fascinating, I like how it puts a new lens on his loner habits, he’s also just super caring and ah! Good Raph! Him and Pepperoni are adorable and I like how he was the one to reach out to Mikey when like-that whole situation was happening. I have more thoughts but ajshajshsjshajhs ya know-

2012 Raph is like one of my favourites, I think just the fact he’s so sweet and gentle sometimes is just really endearing, he’s the Disney princess Raph! Look at those Rapunzel green eyes, I love it. He’s also just so fucking funny, his dialogue is dripping with sarcasm he’s got quips and it’s great. Plus his dynamic with Splinteeeeeerrr was so fucked gahhhhI just love this little guy man! He’s a good little guy! Like usual I struggle to put my thoughts about 2012 turtles into words I just want to shake them around like dog toys instead

Okay so I haven’t actually seen the first Bayverse movie yet, but I really like Raph in the second! He’s fun! I really enjoyed how him and Mikey are a duo almost, they’re both team purple ooze and that was super fun. I kinda really wish Bayverse had it’s own spin-off cartoon to expand more, I think Out of the Shadows had some strong concepts and it just tripped over itself a lot AHA, oh! Also since this is kinda short, on the topic of movies I enjoyed Batman VS TMNT Raph a lot too, that scene where he talks down Batman and talks about family? Like that sold him for me, both good movie boys

I think Rise making Raph the big brother is amazing, it’s so cool to see things shaken up and his portrayal in the show really does make sense. He’s still recognisable as Raph, but we get to see how a character we love can be shaped differently by new circumstances. All Raph’s have that natural protector role but now we see how him being the ‘Leo’ would impact that-also that aside he’s just a super sweet Raph! I love how he’s still playful while trying so hard to get his brothers to work as a team, I wish we had more episodes where he tries to get them to do stupid training exercises. There’s just something so earnest about this version, you gotta love him

Mutant Mayhem Raph surprised me! If I’m honest, while I don’t find anything wrong with more violent and angry leaning Raphs they’re definitely not the iterations I personally lean to the most? 87!Raphael is my favourite so that’s probably a given AHA, but like this boy completely knocked it out of the park. I love how smug he is, this boy is honestly just happy to be here and he got quite a few laughs out of me. He’s a very well balanced mix of what has come before honestly, I’m super excited to see him in depth in the future. AND HIS WHOLE DYNAMIC WITH HIS BROS IS JUST SO CUTEEEEEE OKAY IM DONE AUSHAJAH

[mbirnsings-71]

Happy Batman day I did not want to actually draw a whole man of a bat so instead you get the shapey cryptid that is him we all know it's true that he's a cryptid totally-

[teaspoonofdragons]

i know im the only fool who gives a shit about this loser but I’m making you all deal with me. suffer

@iknowicanbutwhy compared Yellow Schezo’s cape to bug wings and I went “y eah :)”

They don’t like each other lmao. I think the worst part is that the second page is him trying to be genuine

[mimikusu]

I love the art of your new OC! Can you tell us more about him? What's his name? (Take this as an invitation to ramble about his background and who he is as much as you want, I'm interested to know more <3)

Awwww! How sweet of you to ask! And to give me permission to ramble about him! There's not that much to him, yet, but I can share a short thing I've written for them some time ago.

This is about this piece, in case someone comes across this solitarily.

Simon's eyes were empty, the smile tugging at his lips almost perfect.

"Is that so?"

He asked, looking at the man at his opposite in a way that almost scared Nikolai. There was something behind all the anger, waiting to break through, to tear the other appart and Niko could swear that Ruben did see it as well.

"Maybe we should just..."

But he got interrupted by a sharp hiss from his right.

"Nobody asked for you to calm the waves, Nikolai!"

He turned his head and now that he was directly looking at him, Nikolai could feel his heart skip a beat. Only a fraction in time and space and he could feel the strong urge to jump up from where he was seated and run for the door as fast as he could. His body was glued to the chair, however, like the prey facing it's predator. He was loosing himself into these grey eyes, behind which the never ending cataclystic rage and hate was burning down every last bit that might have been human. No affection, not a glimps of anything but anger, as if he did not even recognize who he was talking to.

"Simon, I..."

"Silence!"

And Niko fell silent.

He did not say a word for as long as it took Simon to eradicate Ruben rethorically, finally collapsing with a sneeze harsh enough to shake the glasses on the table in front of them.

"Gesundheit."

It was the way Ruben adressed Simon, fully unimpressed of the scene he had caused, that did draw Nikolai's attention. He thought Simon would have Ruben's head for this, but the man only sighed, took a deep breath and sneezed a second time before he seemed to be able to control himself again.

"Bless you. Maybe with a cold like this, it would have been wise to stay in bed."

Simon lifted his head to stare at Ruben. He opened his mouth and closed it again, uneffectively stifling a cough in the process. A fraction in time - a glitch in the matrix. His face crumpled and instantly returned to normal, his posture perfect as always.

Niko's jaw dropped almost all the way to the floor. It seemed he did not know the person next to him nearly as well as he'd thought. Simon's facade was perfect enough to make him believe he was as well as he could be. Now that Ruben had outed him, however, he seemed so obviously sick. Simon's lips were parted ever so slightly, his nose unmistakeably pink-ish and his eyes were circled by dark shadows that he'd thought to be the result of another night spent in front of his desk. There was a barely noticable layer of sweat that covered his forehead, speaking of the very bad shape his friend's health actually seemed to be in.

"Simon, did you...?"

Simon's gaze turned to Nikolai and still, there was a lot of barely contained anger, yet the way he frowned he looked much more exhausted and as if he desperately tried to fight off another sneeze.

"Goodness, Simon, we could have postponed!" Nikolai sighed.

Simon's frown deepend and suddenly Ruben grinned, placing a hand on Niko's forearm.

"Don't worry dear, you're not the only one he's very succesfully hiding these things from."

He leaned forward and lifted a hand to reach over the table.

"The way his nose wrinkles up here..." and with this, he very softly placed a finger right inbetween Simon's eyes.

Hastily - almost panically - Simon lifted his hand yet again, his body shaken by the third sneeze he'd so hard tried to fight off.

"Ruben!"

Ruben smiled and leaned back again.

"You're an open book, Simon! Whether you like it or not."

"Bless you..." Nikolai mumbled, his eyes fixated on the point where Ruben's finger had been only seconds ago.

Again, he started to question himself why Ruben knew so much about Simon, while to him the man seemed to be almost a stranger sometimes.

It was with great harshness, that Simon got up, making Nikolai almost jump with the sudden movement.

"I'm in no need for your so called 'expertise' anyways!"

"Well, if you say so..." Ruben was composure himself. Still sitting, he gazed up at Simon, who definitely looked intimidating the way he stared down on him, but he did knew as much as Nikolai and Ruben did, that he had no choice whatsoever to rely on Ruben's 'expertise' with his bank being Ruben's major client. It was a classic stalemate situation and Simon being unwilling to accknowledge it, however, did not change that fact.

"Well then..." Now Ruben got up as well. "Let's continue this talk once you got over your cold."

He smiled almost bitterly which seemed to spark Simon's rage even further. He turned around and abruptly left the cafe, leaving Ruben and Nikolai behind.

Ruben sat back down with a sigh and a frown, his eyes glistening with a curious wetness that made Nikolai feel sorry for the man. He leaned in a little closer, placing a hand on small shoulders and Ruben turned his head, his face almost distorted with a sad smile.

"Are you going to tell me now, what it is, the two of you have going on?" He asked and whiped a sole tear from Ruben's cheek.

"He's someone I used to know..." Ruben replied mystically. "In a time where things were different... before I transitioned."

There was not much need for further information and Nikolai could see how much it pained Ruben to even think of it. They were sharing a burden with this man both seemed to be magically attracted to, like rubble in his debris field.

Nikolai smiled and leaned his cheek against Ruben's in a way that he could even feel him shivering ever so slightly.

"Don't worry, love. You will be okay now. I promise."

---------- // ------------

Maybe I should add some words of explanation still.

Actually, Ruben first made his appearance in that christmas-thing I never finished... and my mind created him, because I so much suck for unrequited love. They both studied together and Simon being Simon did simply leave him behind as he decided to abond study. So, from Ruben's perspective everything was somewhat okay-ish (as good as it gets... i mean we're talking about Simon still) and from one day to the other he was just gone for good. They did not meet again, until fate made it so, that the firm Ruben works at as an accountant, asigned him to the department of the bank Simon works in, forcing them to be stuck with one another.

Also, Ruben is transgender and the moment he came out to everyone, Simon started acting weird. It would be logical to think that Simon's decision with abandoning study wasn't motivated mostly by the issues with Ruben's gender, but it was convenient to solve two issues at once by just abandon him as well as the study which was boring him to death at the time.

Finally, since Nikolai is polyamorous and Simon pretending to be okay with it, I like to think that Ruben and Nikolai have an on-off relationship, that mostly is Niko turning to Ruben in an attempt for a more warm and compassionate kind of love, thinking how Simon does not stop talking about how he's only waiting for the right woman to pass his way so he can have a family and children and abandon Nikolai for good. And the way things are with Simon and Ruben, Ruben does not know about them being together, as both, Nikolai and Simon agreed on keeping to themselfs for the time being.

Thank you for the cance! Sorry it's so long! 😭

[angeloftrumpets]

GRRAGHHH part 1

[milliesfishes]

i know it’s been forever (a day) bc i’ve been busy being my own sugar mommy (working my summer job) but i have all the thoughts

like ttpd (the song) is giving best-friends-but-maybe-something-more reader + coryo until the games and then he’s being all cozy with lucy gray

and readers over here like i know everything about you and who you want to be, i’ve been here for you all along, if u really think that any other girl will be even half the partner i’d be then good luck babe

(who else decodes you? / who’s gonna hold you? / sometimes i wonder if you’re gonna screw this up with me? / i laughed in your face and said)

im sorry in advance for all the world vomit lmao

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓔𝓵𝓼𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝓨𝓸𝓾?𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: injury, jealousy pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: you know coriolanus like the back of your hand, and yet he runs to another girl the first chance he gets author’s note: so sorry this took forever! I needed very specific vibes for this and I hope it's good! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Your sheets were silken, soft to the touch, but they felt better when he was lying next to you.

Opening your eyes just a hint, you reveled in the glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. Coriolanus was sprawled out next to you, remaining deep in the throes of sleep. His curls were a messy halo across his forehead just as they were every morning, and you delighted in the sight of him, knowing he'd smooth his hair as soon as he awoke.

The broad plane of his bare chest was vastly uncovered by the comforter, and you traced your finger down the bump of his ribs. The heat of his skin exuded from his body like a fire in the hearth, warming you right up just by being next to him.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you let your hair fall to the side as you studied him like a book. If your Coryo was a genre he'd be a classic- renowned and readable if one took the time. Not many people did.

His lashes fluttered like butterfly's wings, and you shut your eyes. No need for him to know you'd been staring at him.

Shifting under you, Coriolanus made a quiet noise as he emerged from his dreams, one of his big palms rising to rest at the crown of your head. The intimate gesture was a spark in your quiet heart.

Thumb raking through your strands, his other hand settled by yours on his stomach, clasping your limp fingers in a delightful knot. At that, you allowed yourself to unfold your eyes, looking up at him in an innocent way.

Coriolanus had never been one to smile easily. His face was hardened all too often, by the survivalist ways of his life in the cutthroat world of the Capitol. But now the corners of his lips were lifting just barely upwards as his cerulean eyes drowned yours in the best possible way.

"Morning," he whispered, voice slightly raspy with the cobwebs of sleep. Coriolanus rubbed your arm and dug his nose into your hair, inhaling softly.

The mornings with him were sacred, locked away in a vault for your darkest hours. At your insistence, he stayed the night often. His trust was not an easy thing to come by, and yet you were in possession of it. You knew of his living conditions, of the Snow's maintenance of their surname's image. It was a gift how at ease he was with you. So much so that he was able to slip smoothly into unconsciousness with you right there in his arms.

Friends. Best friends. That was your title and yet you were tangled in the sheets of your bed like lovers. And you couldn't ignore the familiar flutter in your heart when he peered down at you, usually icy eyes softened.

"Can we stay here all day?" you questioned in dulcet tones, tracing a patch of his skin. "It's so cozy."

"We've got to get to the school," Coriolanus shifted, sitting up in the bed and bringing his hand to his forehead. "The Reaping-"

"Yes," you murmured, rubbing his side. Your satin-like hair was a waterfall over your shoulder as you propped yourself up on an elbow. All Coriolanus had been able to talk about was the Reaping in the past few weeks. Ever since he'd been selected as a Mentor.

It was a high honor, although it came with a heavy price. To groom a child for death as a spectacle was no easy thing. You had opted out of the selection of students poised to be mentors, personal fear and heartache for the soon-to-be victims eating at your psyche.

You were privileged in that way, you knew. Coriolanus didn't have a choice if he wanted any hope of attending the University. He was proud, your boy, refusing to accept even a penny from your family's expansive funds. Through your late father's investments, you could have paid to keep the both of you comfortable in a penthouse in the city, tuition and food the furthest of worries.

Watching him now, donning his dress pants and shirt, lacing up his too-small shoes, you wished he would let you help. The white shirt was exquisite, clandestine work by Tigris- his fashion-centric cousin. Coriolanus had a talent for making anything he wore appear regal- a byproduct of his last name no doubt.

Rising, you disappeared into the closet to find a dress appropriate for the event. Though you were not a mentor, all students at the Academy were invited to the celebration. You would have begged your way in anyways, eager to watch your best friend receive his tribute.

Rifling through the selection, you decided on a black number with thin straps, hugging your figure and flaring out subtly toward the bottom. Removing your nightdress, you tossed it over a chair and stepped into the other garment, zipping it up as high as you could.

When your fingers were unable to stretch any further, you poked your head out, calling, "Coryo? Would you help me?"

His shoes clicked on the wooden floor as he approached, one hand steadying you on your waist while you drew your sheet of hair over your shoulder. The zipper crawled up your spine as he closed the gap between fabric, reaching over to brush your hair back behind you when he finished.

The mirror positioned in the corner of the room painted a picture that passerby couldn't possibly guess the context on. Coriolanus and you cut a striking pair, making your foolish heart leap at the idea.

Squeezing your shoulder, Coriolanus left you to ponder at your reflection, digging through his school bag for something. It had been a miracle you'd been able to convince him to spend the night at all with how meticulous he was. But your honeyed musings about how he needed a good dinner and night's rest before the ceremony had won him over. Before you'd known it he'd been passed out under your blankets with a belly full of roast, lulled by the motions of your nails scratching his head.

Inside and out, you knew him, had memorized him better than any textbook passage, could unravel his tangled secrets quicker than any detective. He took your heart by storm.

Slipping your feet into your shoes, you picked up your purse and checked your recently finished makeup one last time, casting a glance at Coriolanus, who was fiddling with his curls again. You capped your lipstick with a snap, dropping the tube into your bag and turning to him. "Ready?"

When he looked at you, his oceanic eyes held a promise of storms. You reached your hand out and took his, offering the tiniest smile. "It's going to be okay."

Closing his eyes briefly, he inhaled once and gave a single nod. If you'd put your hand to his chest, the stampede of his heart under it likely would have worried you. The tendrils of hope crept between you as you tried to will your words into him.

Sticking his hand into his bag, Coriolanus withdrew twin flowers you recognized as his grandmother's precious roses- the special rooftop ones reserved for special occasions. Snapping the stems, he fixed one behind your ear, thumb featherlike. The gesture swelled your chest and warmed you from the inside out. "For me?"

"The Grandma'am insisted." There it was- that almost smile that told you the flower was coming from him too. Coriolanus steadied it in your hair, the petals brushing you like a kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, touching your lips to his cheek. A slight flush brightened his face, and he looked away as your hands came to the one of his holding his own rose. Gently easing it out of his grip, you fastened it to his vest, taking care not to scratch his white shirt with the pin. Ironing out invisible creases with your hands, your eyes found his once again.

Friends. And yet it didn't feel like it. Not one bit. Electricity seemed to crackle in the line connecting your gazes, and you swore something flashed across his irises. The rose didn't mean nothing.

Half-dazed, you tentatively unearthed the feeling stored in a drawer stuffed to the brim with secrets. One more passionate and powerful than you were used to stood tall above the rest.

Though it was strong, it revealed itself in memories; quiet, simple things so delicate they could be gone in a blink. This feeling was rain pattering against the roof, it was flowers blooming between the cracks in the sidewalk. It was blue eyes and golden curls and a try-not-to-smile that arranged itself in a way that bloomed through the walls of your heart.

Somehow you had known what it was all along. And yet now its foretelling had come to pass.

What if he loved you too?

The Reaping was a lilted event highlighted by the revelation of Coriolanus' tribute.

District Twelve. You could have strangled the Dean lost in the throes of his beloved drug for what he'd so obviously done: set Coriolanus up for failure. From where you were sitting you could see the resignation on his face as he watched the Lucy Gray Baird in her rainbow dress part the raggedy crowd like the Red Sea.

Then she slipped a wriggling snake hidden by her hand down a girl's dress, and your attention was piqued. Bold. Maybe there was optimism yet. Coriolanus stood sharply; eyes glued to the screen as he watched his tribute dragged up the stage by stone-faced Peacekeepers. The mayor's hand struck her face, and she fell to the ground graceful as a ballerina, hair hanging over her cheeks.

And then she began to sing. Lilted as a bird's song, clear as a bell, her voice rang over the crowd, rich enough without background music. Lucy Gray's chorus needed no accompaniment.

The entire hall was entranced. Your eyes tore from the sight, instead watching Coriolanus. Even from where you were sitting you could see what you'd tried to instill in him only hours ago.

Hope.

The time following was a film reel of interconnected pictures. In later days you would recall them and only be able to see brief flashes of memory.

Coriolanus behind the bars of the Capitol Zoo's cage. Lucy Gray Baird standing tall and proud despite her forced surroundings, her rainbow dress a bright contrast to the rest of the setting. He had told you his plan to greet his tribute, but you'd had no idea of his exertions until you saw him on the evening news. Even if his Academy uniform hadn't been such a bright red, you would have known those curls anywhere.

She was stunningly lovely standing beside him- a flower of adversity if there ever was one. A flower with a song. Speaking of flowers, one of his was tucked behind her ear just as it had been with yours the morning of the Reaping.

A pang echoed in your chest at the sight of him, holding hands with her and greeting the citizens of the Capitol who'd come to gawk at the forced participants of a cruel game.

You had turned off the television at that, bringing your knees to your chest. He was just helping her. That was his job. He only wanted her to trust him in order to reach his end goal. Was it manipulative? Maybe. But it wouldn't matter if she won. It would be good for the both of them.

Coriolanus kneeling beside Lucy Gray, sharing a sandwich with her. You hung back behind the crowd, having accompanied him but not wanting to scare her away. He spoke in hushed tones to her, and you watched with a sinking heart as a smile split his face like a sunrise at something she said. A full smile.

After that, you saw him rarely. He was either at the zoo with her or at home writing things up both for the games and for school. Coriolanus used to do all his work with you by his side.

The media outlets were fond of showing him and Lucy Gray, reporting on the Snow boy and the songbird. You had tried to ask him about his affiliation with Lucy Gray, but he assured you it was pure strategy. He didn't know you loved him, though.

Coriolanus hadn't spent the night since the Reaping. The side he usually slept on grew cold. It still smelled like him, and that was a haunting thing. Whenever you asked him over he cast a net of excuses, claiming he needed to go see Lucy Gray in the morning or that the mentors had a strategy meeting.

As you stared up at him, with his eyebrows drawn taut, mouth no longer offering even a half-smile, a feeling of dread awoke in your heart.

Avoidance was your friend in the next week. The buzz of the games was impossible to ignore, and your feelings became matted in a bloody tangle. Tidying your room, you found little things he'd left behind. A pen, a spare shirt, a notebook. Opening the cover of the latter, you saw his neatly scribbled notes. For a moment you pretended it was a love letter.

It all came to a heading after the attack in the arena.

Everything was a blur after you received the news. Your feet were moving before you knew it, stumbling down the stairs. The driver on the way had to have been breaking every speeding law, but it still wasn't fast enough for you.

You didn't have any idea how you made it up to him. There was no recollection of asking someone where he was, or even a room number. But somehow you were at his side, taking his clammy hand in yours and collapsing to your knees beside his bed.

Tigris told you in a hushed way of how rebels had somehow bombed the arena, how there was a fire and rubble, and Lucy Gray had pulled him out of it. His leg had been in worse shape earlier, but it would heal soon.

A surge of gratitude shot through you. Thank heavens for Lucy Gray. Coriolanus was stirring now, his hand gripping yours as his lids revealed those oceans you'd missed so badly. And now his half-smile was back. He murmured your name and you could have burst into tears.

"You're okay," you murmured, other hand coming up to smooth curls back from his face. The way you knew he liked it.

"What happened...Lucy Gray..." he muttered, sitting up. A cold feeling of disheartenment washed over your heart. You opened your mouth to respond when the sound of music echoed from the hospital television on the wall.

There she was. The answer to his question. Lucy Gray's voice poured from the scratchy speaker, singing about a tale of lost love, paired with her guitar.

Coriolanus swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting to his feet nearly in a trance. His lips were parted, eyes fixed on her. Donations were pouring in, likely the most of any other tribute. The look on his face was of pure awe. It was as if he'd watched an angel descending.

Your heart sunk below your feet. Tears pricked your eyes as the chilling fingers of want gripped your arms, pulling you back into the shadows. He was falling for her.

It hit you like a punch to the gut, and you wanted to curl up on the floor beneath you until the ground opened and swallowed you up. Your love was a disease now that you didn't want to cure anyways. Even if you did, there wasn't one in sight.

The program ended, and Tigris excused herself, telling you both she was going to find something to eat. You sat at the chair beside Coriolanus' bed where he'd resumed his spot, despondent in the chasm of your thoughts.

She didn't know him like you did. Every hidden desire and pain of his fit into the palm of your hand, and you protected them just as he did. Time had slipped through the cracks and buried you, every shred of history with him flashing through your mind.

Walking to school together. Him coming from a particularly hard class to where you were sitting and resting his head in your lap. At your family's dinner table, trying not to overindulge. Asleep beside you, whispering that he felt safe.

You had been in front of him this entire time, holding him and loving him beyond everything. And yet here he was, running to a girl he knew so little of. Sabotaging everything you wanted to give him.

Even through all this, you couldn't find it in yourself to hate her. Lucy Gray was in the business of making it out alive. Whatever means she used to attempt a win were out of survival.

It was as if you'd pricked your finger on one of his rose's thorns. As you looked at him, you had the thought that he was drawing out of reach. Your Coryo was nearly lost to you and there was hardly anything to do.

He looked up at you, reaching for your hand. Letting him take it, you kept your eyes on his face, thoughts distant as he spoke.

"I think she has a chance," he said, voice bordering on excitement. "I think she can win. It'll all work out."

Bittersweet, you nodded, eyes falling to the floor. "You make a good pair." Every word was soft, and you avoided his eyes.

"Hey..." Coriolanus squeezed your hand, and you raised your gaze back to him. His features were drawn in a sincere way, and your demeanor lightened just slightly at the sight. "I want to get the prize. Go to the university with you. That's what this is all for."

"You look at her differently than that." Pursing your lips, you stood and let go of his hand.

Coriolanus frowned, throwing aside the covers and standing. "She might be the answer to all of this."

"That's fine," you said, turning away. "If you want her-"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, taking your elbow and forcing you to turn and face him. "I leave my things in your room. I gave you one of the roses...you're special to me, you have to know..."

"Then why have you abandoned me?" you questioned quietly, the tension between you thicker than a rope. "You're letting go."

"I'm doing all this for you," he emphasized, and your eyes widened slightly. "You..." he swallowed; mouth pulled tight. "I need you. If you ever left...I don't know what would happen."

Usually you had to comb through the depths of him eyes to find what he was feeling, but now it was right at the surface. Brimming and calling you. What he felt wasn't nothing.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Coriolanus demanded, holding you by both arms now. His words were not aggressive, but worried.

A thousand things stemmed from your core and climbed your being like vines on a stone wall in a secret garden. Fabled to act, more likely to yearn, your feelings bubbled and churned in your ocean of secret lives. Maybe once you would have poured your soul out to him, but the words were withered from lack of use.

"You weren't mine," you said weakly, leaving it at that. "Not mine to have or to lose."

Something changed in his face. He loosened the bands of his hands on your elbows, instead taking one of your hands and putting it to his heart. It beat a steady rhythm against your palm, that quiet assurance that he lived. Searching your eyes, Coriolanus breathed, "I think I've always been yours."

A myriad of scars and knotted emotions emerged in you. All these hours, all of what had seemed like tricks. And there had been something there the entire time.

You felt it right then- the connection. He was a tongue you spoke fluently, and now you were grateful for it. It sparked a fire in your soul that encased a promise echoed in his eyes.

He loved you too.

[theminecraftbee]

hermit horror week day 4: season 7 or taken over

Xisuma slowly blinks at the console logs for the server again. He's very tired; he's been collecting blackstone again, and it's very tiring, collecting blackstone. He's been building a lot of pretty houses, and stocking a lot of shops, and he hasn't had time to look at the console much recently. He probably shouldn't be now, because he's tired, and tired people make mistakes.

He makes a lot of mistakes; he's silly like that. A big derp. It's why he has to be careful, since he's been tired so much lately. He definitely shouldn't have the console open.

It's just, earlier Impulse had a question, since his moss farm kept lagging, and Xisuma thought it would be easy enough to try to find the root cause of. And he did find the root cause of it--Impulse's farm is too fast and his storage simply doesn't keep up with the amount of moss--but there's... some other things...

He blinks again at the dates on the server files. The last edited dates. Slowly, he clicks again on his own player data, and tries to make sense of what he's reading. Files like this, they aren't really meant to be that human-readable. It's--well, it is mostly json, so it's mostly human-readable, actually, but a lot of it is still encrypted, for player safety, which would. Maybe explain what he's looking at? He thinks? He's--well, he does have root access, is the thing, because he's the admin, but he still shouldn't be able to look at any player willy-nilly.

He's a little too much of a derp to be trusted with that. He probably shouldn't even be looking at his data! It's just. That last edited date. Xisuma doesn't edit his own player data. That way lies madness. He's, uh, pretty sure he knows some people who went a little mad doing that. So the fact of the matter is--well, it's not the only file that's been edited recently, he tells himself. Just because it's a lot of memory files that seem to have been edited, as well as access permissions--that's... normal enough for a new season, right?

He's...

He doesn't notice his other self walk up behind him.

"Oh, hey Xisuma. You finished gathering materials for our next build, then?" Evil Xisuma says. All of Xisuma's hairs stand on end.

"I mean, I've gathered enough to get started," Xisuma says.

"Pity. I was really hoping you'd manage to get everything. I thought maybe we'd finish today, but I guess we can't now."

"I--you're right. I'm really sorry."

"No, no, don't worry, don't worry, my friend," Evil Xisuma says. "We probably couldn't have finished today anyway, even if you said you'd try for it."

Xisuma's heart is in his throat. "Sorry, my head's just been. You know how I am. Silly me, forgetting things."

Evil Xisuma shakes his head. "It's awfully lucky I came back this season. Think of all the important things you'd be forgetting without reminders!"

Xisuma looks down and away.

"Gosh, and now you're... playing around in the admin console?"

"Oh!" Xisuma says. "It's, er, nothing really big..."

"Can I see it?"

He barely resists the urge to close out of his player data and hide that's what he'd been looking at. He doesn't know why he wants to hide it. It's not like--well, if Evil Xisuma got mad about it, it would be... right, wouldn't it? Because, well, Xisuma knows full well he shouldn't be looking at or editing his own player data. Editing your own data is the way to madness, and Xisuma, well, he's been so tired lately. He could easily accidentally hit a button. He could easily accidentally hit delete. He has root access, after all.

His heart is in his throat again. He shuffles his feet. "Sure," he says, finally. "I, er, I promise, I wasn't doing anything. I just noticed the last edited date on, uh, files that aren't automatically created by the system? And I thought, gosh, that's weird. I'd only been in there to check on Impulse, really, after he'd had some lag issues. I was just finishing up. It's nothing--the date's weird, though, right? That's all I was noticing."

He watches Evil Xisuma's fingers scroll through all of Xisuma's data. It's not quite fast enough that Xisuma isn't sure he's reading it, and suddenly, Xisuma feels very small.

Finally, Evil Xisuma hands Xisuma's tablet with the admin console open back to him. Xisuma looks down, and Evil Xisuma has closed out of the player data again.

"You just forgot the last maintenance date," Evil Xisuma says.

"Really?" Xisuma says.

"Oh, yeah, for sure. You're so tired lately. You silly derp. You've just been forgetting things easily. You should really get more rest!"

"Oh, but then we won't finish our projects," Xisuma says.

"I guess we wouldn't," Evil Xisuma says back.

"It's just--it's. Most of the time, access permission for player memories isn't edited during maintenance, and I just--I don't remember putting your name down?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

Xisuma tries to think.

"I don't know," he says finally, small, unable to meaningfully articulate anything about what's wrong with it. "I guess it only makes sense, if I'm forgetting things so easily."

"Exactly! Gosh, we make a good team," Evil Xisuma says, and he smiles at Xisuma. Xisuma crookedly smiles back.

"Yeah, we do," Xisuma agrees.

"Don't pull that out again unless I say so, okay?"

"Okay," Xisuma agrees automatically, and then he knows he will not. It makes sense. If he was upsetting himself over nothing like this, why, imagine what he'd do if he could open it whenever? He'd just constantly be upsetting himself!

"Now, my friend, let's return to building the Evil Empire."

"Let's!" agrees Xisuma, and just like that, the entire encounter slips from his mind.

[badaseyebags]

private lessons ⋆｡°✩ chapter 2 ⟢

fluffy, suggestive, smut in upcoming chapters

word count: 3k+ (phew)

warnings: very obvious power dynamics, just some making out, a bit of begging, lots of praise, lots of pet names, BADA CALLS HERSELF MOMMY!!!! aaaa

author’s note: i’m back 😳 i’m sorry that this took much longer then i expected, pls don’t block me 😞 i hope this is readable and not too disappointing @-@ i promise there’s actual smut coming soon! feel free to leave some feedback/suggestions! thank you so much for reading ♡ -booger 🍞

with one last glance in the mirror you gathered the remainder of your courage and slipped on your shoes, grabbing your purse with shaky hands. why were you so nervous? it’s not like you’re going over to her house to get bent over. you’re simply going to get tutored. unfortunately you remind yourself why you’re in this position in the first place, due to your lack of concentration during her classes. you sigh shaking your head, applying a second coat your favourite lipgloss nonetheless, just for good measures! was it too much? was it obvious you put in a little more effort than you usually do? would she notice? why would she? and why do you even care so much in the first place? she’s just a teacher after all..

she had texted you the address and you realised she actually lived a bit further, which is probably why she offered to come pick you up in the first place, not wanting to inconvenience her any further you politely refused. maybe you were starting to regret it knowing it’ll take a long time to get there by bus, and you’ll most likely be late.. late to your first ever tutoring class, what a great way to start. woohoo!

you put your headphones on, making your way into the bus and finding an empty seat all the way in the back. that way you could have some privacy to collect yourself before you meet her. actually.. that wasn’t really working and you began getting more nervous so you decided to pull out your notebook to mindlessly doodle for the time being. it turned out quite cute you thought to yourself, staring at the sketch, imagining those two figures kissing were you and her. oh no, you’re doing it again. you and your stupid imagination! and that’s not even the first time you caught yourself doing something so silly. you close your notebook shoving it back into your bag, just a few stops away from your destination. phew. time to actually collect yourself!

with wobbly knees you make your way to her apartment, palms sweaty as you smooth them over your skirt. 10 minutes, you’re 10 minutes late.. would she notice? she’s having a day off that she sacrificed specifically to help you, and you dare come late? oh no, you’re definitely screwed. you start panicking as guilt washes over you, practicing your apology in your head, accidentally ringing her doorbell in the process. fuck. you didn’t mean to do that just yet, you weren’t ready. if you’re fast enough you can just ru-

you heard the door nob turning, soon revealing a tall slim figure in front of you. “oh miss y/n! you decided to show up after all, and here i thought you didn’t need my help anymore” she teases giving you a half smile making your heart jump, not only due to you being late, but because of how effortlessly attractive she looked with her two toned hair tied back into a messy loose braid, complimenting her light blue button up paired with some slacks. not to mention the sound of her half groggy voice calling out your name and the way it slid past her lips so smoothly.

“h-hello mrs. lee i am so sorry for being late! i didn’t”before you could finish your apology she chuckled, shaking her head. “no need to apologise sweetie, i was just teasing a little. come on in, make yourself at home.” you blink up at her, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. you just greeted her and messed up? damn already? was it because she called you sweetie?! god, you’re hopeless.

“i won’t bite.” she chuckled again, walking into her apartment leaving you with no choice but to follow behind her, timidly shutting the door as you entered. you swore you could hear her quietly mumble something under her breath, but you decided it was your twisted mind playing tricks on you once again. for the sake of your sanity. “here here, have a seat. care for some tea? coffee perhaps?” she pulls out a chair for you and this small gesture alone has your heart fluttering for no reason. you look down shyly, taking a seat and avoiding her gaze. “i..uh.. anything is fine, thank you.” you mumble trying not to keep yourself composed. she smiles nodding as she reaches for the jar of instant coffee. “i haven’t had my coffee yet, since i wasn’t sure if you’d like to drink some with me. do you like yours with milk, sugar?” was she calling you sugar or was she asking you whether or not you wanted sugar in your coffee? …and she waited for you to have coffee? yeah, as if. you need to stop being delusional. “miss y/n?” she glanced back at you knocking you of out your prolonged silence. “i-i would like both please.. i like my coffee s-sweet” you close your eyes in embarrassment as another stutter leaves your clumsy lips. you swear you never stutter. she chuckles in response as she prepares your drink. “we are quite the opposite, i prefer mine black.” she gives you a soft smile, sitting down across from you, setting your drink in front of you. you mutter a shy thank you as your hands reach for the spoon, mixing some sugar into the warm beverage. “oh that’s nothing, i usually make really good coffee but my coffee machine broke recently so.. instant coffee will have to do for now.” you nod quickly, fingers gripping the handle and side of the cup. “that’s fine! any coffee is good! i actually prefer instant it’s not like i know much about coffee anyways-” your lips are faster then your brain causing you to blurt out such a fact about you, which only made her smile wider. “oh we really are opposites, maybe i could change your mind once i make you a proper cup, hm?” you blush nodding fast in agreement, did that mean you’d be seeing her more then just this one time? you try to calm your nerves by bringing the cup to your lips, taking a little sip. maybe it’s better to keep your mouth busy so you don’t end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“so y/n… just how much experience do you really have?” she also brings her own cup to her lips, eyes fixated on yours. your eyes widen, the coffee you tried swallowing getting stuck in the back of your throat at her question, resulting you in coughing out loud making her put her cup down and lean towards you in worry. “are you alright sweetie? was it too hot? did it burn you?” you cover your mouth, calming yourself down as you shake your head noticing bada is very professional and calm despite asking such a personal question.

maybe you are too shy after all and you should be more open when it comes to talking about your sex life. people do it all the time, it’s totally natural. you hear others talk about it all the time. but then again why would she ask you such a private question out of nowhere? maybe she’s just a very social person, this is how adults talk and there shouldn’t be shame. it’s not like you ever talked about sexual things with anyone, but you know others do. like with their friends, parents, therapists, lovers.. you just need to get over the embarrassment and step out of your shell, you could learn a lot from her, be as mature as she is, even when it comes to such topics. she sure wouldn’t judge you no matter what, she’s a teacher after all. “i’m fine! i’m just.. not too good at talking about such topics.. but i… well…i don’t have much experience… none at all actually. that’s really embarrassing to admit. others my age have already done so.. many times.. maybe i am really slow or something..” you chew on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your head up to look at her, choosing to look into your cup instead. if you could see your own reflection in the coffee you’re sure your face would be beet red by now. that’s when bada herself chokes a little as your unexpected response.

you totally misinterpreted what she was asking. she was asking about your experience on the subject she was supposed to tutor you on, not your sexual experience. did she give you the wrong impression? was she being too obvious with her interest in you? were her flirting attempts not as subtle as she attempted? no way, with how empty headed you are they probably flew right past you, she thought. well.. it’s not like she wasn’t curious about that in the first place, but she wouldn’t have asked so suddenly. however, she didn’t have the heart to embarrass you like that by correcting you and telling you that you misunderstood her question.

she just cleared her throat and went along with it. was she willing to risk it all? this made her want to corrupt you even more, but she can’t. not yet. you made her lose her composure. she needed to fix that and get back in charge. she won’t let it, let you, fluster her. “sweetie..there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. that’s exactly what i’m here for.” she decided to test out the waters, see if you were as submissive and truly empty minded around her as she painted you to be. her hand was itching to get a feel of your skin, she was struggling to fight it. she needs to take this slow she reminds herself, she doesn’t want to scare you away. but it seems like you’re already falling into her trap. your eyes instantly snap up to meet hers, to make sure weather you heard her correctly.

“it would be such a pity if you left without learning anything.. wouldn’t that make me a bad teacher, hm?” she furrows her brows in faux sympathy as her hand finally reaches out, gently cupping your cheek making you look up at her. you gasp at the sudden contact and your current situation. “oh y-yeah… i’m here to be tutored-“ you try to avoid her gaze, once again looking down in embarrassment. your nervousness made you think of studying again, which is the reason she invited you over. right? you must be totally misunderstanding this. you’re just being delusional, you tell yourself.

despite you both sitting down she visibly towered over you, not just in her height, but in her presence alone. you could feel her knees ever so gently pressing against your own if you weren’t trying so hard to distract yourself.

was she sitting so close to you from the start?

she scoffs in amusement, her lips forming a fake frown. “oh you poor little thing.. you really thought i wouldn’t notice the way you look at me during class? that i can’t see right through that pretty little head of yours? you’re a smart girl y/n, we both know you don’t actually have a issue with learning..” your cheeks heat up as you’re forced to meet her gaze that looks more intimidating then ever. she just exposed you. she knew it this whole time. you didn’t think your crush on her was that visible. your lips part to speak but no words come out making her grin. her thumb slides past your bottom lip ever so gently, almost knocking the air out your lungs. “i think.. you could do so much better, all you need is just a little motivation.” she hovers over you, her thumb now reaching the corner of your lips, collecting the remainder of coffee and bringing it up to her own lips. her eyes flutter shut momentarily, licking her thumb clean and savouring the flavour with a hum. “so sweet indeed..” she hooks her pointer finger under your chin, making you look up at her. chuckling softly she leans in further, her thumb stroking just below your bottom lip as her eyes trail from your eyes to your lips and back. “are you gonna let me have a taste, doll?”

you gulp, your own eyes focused on her lips, slowly nodding as you look up at her. “now now, wouldn’t that be too easy?” she leans in closer, lips near your ear. “you’ll have to be a good girl and ask for it.” your mouth goes completely dry as you gulp. your hands clutch a fist full of your skirt, tension so thick it could cut air separating you two. you mutter under your breath, scared your voice will betray you. “mrs. lee.. could you.. umm.. can you kiss me?” you shut your eyes tight, hoping she would kiss you then and there. instead you only hear a dry chuckle.

you open your eyes, attention on her as she tucks a stray hair behind your ear, confusion painted on your face. “thats not how a good girl asks. not even a please? now that’s not very polite, is it? i’m starting to think you don’t deserve it.” you whine shaking your head. “no no i’m sorry! please… please kiss me?” you look up at her desperately. “aww you want a kiss that bad?” she coos cupping your cheek, smirking at the heat of it against her hand. you nod fast, leaning into her touch, totally submitting to her.

“use your words, tell mommy what you want.” she raises her brow, waiting for you to finally say it. your cheeks feel like they’re on fire now, heart beating faster then before as you stumble over your own words. “m-mommy?” you shyly repeat after her, eyes widening, cheeks painted red. you could see the shift in her eyes, and the way it affected her.

she closes her eyes for a little, biting her lip almost as if she’s savouring the sound of your voice calling her that. “how fucking cute.” she rests her thumb against your bottom lip, softly pulling it down. “doing such a good job begging mommy for a kiss…” you close your eyes tightly at her praise, almost whining from such a small action. she leans in, her lips just a few millimetres away from your own. you could feel her breath against your lips, covering your skin in goosebumps. she keeps one of her hands against your cheek, while the other rests against the top of the chair you’re sitting on. she gives your cheek a soft stroke before finally connecting both of your lips.

her soft plump lips smashing against yours felt like a reward. it felt like they were on fire, the way your lips burnt when she pressed her own against them. her fingers against your skin were so gentle, tracing the outline of your cheek, barely touching your skin as if you were made of glass. her lips were telling a different story as her kisses only deepened. you didn’t know what to do with your hands so you loosely griped the fabric of her blouse. she felt you fidgeting and decided to slide one of her hands down to reach for your hand, giving them a soft squeeze before wrapping them around her neck. this gave her the opportunity to drag her hands down your body as she scooped you up in her arms. without breaking the kiss she lifted you and placed you on the table next to her, making you wrap your arms around her tighter. she experimentally dragged her tongue against your bottom lip so gently, your lips parted in surprise. she smirked sneaking her tongue inside your parted lips that granted her access. you let out a little whimper at the feeling of your tongues gliding against each other. you could almost taste the bitterness of the coffee aftertaste mixing with your sweet one and for once, it was delicious. you were everything she wanted and she wanted.. needed more. eager to be closer to you, one of her hands slid down your thigh, slightly parting them as she pushed herself in between, she just couldn’t get enough. with one of her large hands hand stroking the outer side of your thigh, and other one playing with your hair you couldn’t help but shiver in her touch. it was like she was devouring you whole. your body feeling so soft and tiny pressed up against hers. it was driving her insane. she pulled away breathing heavy, admiring your flushed face and slightly messed up hair, remainders of your lipstick smeared all over your lips as you look at her with what she could only describe as hearts in your eyes.

fuck, she’s so screwed. she knows it’s over for her. you wrapped her around your pretty little finger and you didn’t even know about it. heck, you didn’t even have to do anything. you submit to her so easily and that was more then she needed. there’s no way she could just return to just being your teacher, she had to make you hers. you pout slightly as she pulls away, already reaching for her, wanting to feel her lips against yours again. you got her heart beating as hard as she made yours. subconsciously shivering in her arms. as she leans in placing gentle pecks on your lips followed by your cheeks, so much more gentle and affectionate then she was just moments ago. “mommy has to stop before she gets too greedy..” she breathes out as she cleans your messed up lips with her thumb, knowing what she meant you nod, still leaning into her touch. she pressed a final kiss to your lips before pulling you into her embrace, your head in her chest, hands soothing your back.

“let me drive you home precious, it’s way too late for you to be going out on your own.” she gently pats your head, before she realises. “you didn’t bring any jacket with you?” you shake your head at her question, once again fidgeting with your skirt, slightly swinging your feet back and forth as they dangled off the table. “i’m not letting you leave like this.” you blush looking up at her as she brings you her sweater that is much bigger on you then it is on her. she taps your arms signalling you to raise them which you do, making her smile as she dresses you up. “how cute..” she admires you for a moment, fighting back the urge to squeeze you in her arms before offering you her hand which you accept as she helps you off the table. unable to keep her hands off you, she’s smoothing her hands over your clothes in attempt to fix them. “are you ready to go, pretty girl?” she pecks your nose, grabbing her keys as she grabs your hand. you giggle nodding as your heart flutters at her treatment, clinging onto her arm, letting you guide you to her car.

of course she opened the door for you and closed it after you sat down before she got in herself. of course she told you to keep the sweater because she wants to see you in it more often. of course she told you to keep this a secret as she pecked your forehead goodbye. of course your head was filled with nothing but her as you laid in your bed, wearing nothing but her sweater as you drifted into slumber, hoping you could see her even in your dreams, the scenes from earlier on repeat. you were starting to really look forward to these private lessons..

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 52: The Maestro's Correction

Prev > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, body control, burns, hand whump, whipping, blindness, abuse, blood drinking

October 1925

Alexander stood and bowed low as the Maestro entered the music room, trailed by Oliver in eerily perfect synchronization. "Good evening, sire. I hope you are well."

"I also hope I am well. That depends largely on your hospitality, I'm afraid," he said. "Let us begin by examining your new acquisition in more detail."

"Certainly, sire."

No, no, no -- it took all of Oliver's self-control to not fight as the Maestro sat down on the padded bench and forced him into a submissive kneel. The hook and eye on his dress was undone, and Oliver's dread rose. What did he mean by examining in more detail…?

It was somewhat of a relief when those stony eyes focused on the brand on his chest. "Slipshod. The edges are clearly uneven. The symbol will hardly be readable." The Maestro looked up. "It's obviously your work, Alexander. If you had coerced Lily into fulfilling your obligation, as you were no doubt tempted to do, it wouldn't be in such a sorry state."

"Yes, sire."

"Your thrall is permanently marred, the results of your task an abject disappointment, and all you have to say in response is 'yes, sire'," said the Maestro, his tone like a knife pressed against Alexander's neck. "When I attended the ballet, your thrall informed me that you are allowing him a great deal of freedom, as well, are you not?"

"Yes, sire."

Oliver couldn't turn around, but he could hear the despondence in Alexander's voice. This had been his fault, hadn't it? He should have covered for his master. But Alexander had warned him in no uncertain terms to be honest. What was the correct action? Was there even a correct action?

"Because your thrall is otherwise so obedient, I feel inclined to only impose a light punishment this time."

"Thank you, sire."

The Maestro indicated a fat candle sitting on the end table, its flames providing the only cheer and warmth in the room. "Place your hand in the candle's flame until I am satisifed."

"Yes, sire."

"No!" The choked cry came from Oliver's mouth before he could stop himself. He wrenched his head out of the Maestro's grasp just enough to see Alexander's shock, his hand hovering dangerously near the flames.

"Oh?" Oliver's head was snapped back to look in the Maestro's eyes, filled with a cold fury. "You disagree with my judgement?"

"No, no, sir, I don't --"

The Maestro slapped him across the face hard. "You disagree with my judgement and then you lie to compound it," he said, rage in every note of his musical voice. "You do this out of loyalty, no doubt. My misguided children seek companionship among humankind, and value loyalty over obedience. A flaw I have not yet burned out of them."

Oliver trembled as the Maestro took his right hand. The vampire's hands were colder than ice and smooth as porcelain. He ran his finger's down Oliver's palm in a way that might have been tender in other circumstances. "Do you play any instruments, child?"

He was thinking of burning Oliver's hands, wasn't he? Oliver desperately wished he could answer yes to that question, in the hopes that he would be spared, but the blossoming bruise on his cheek warned him otherwise. "No, sir."

"Are you clever with your hands?"

Oliver thought back to the many evenings he'd spent repairing the bindings of antique books and mending his worn clothes. "I believe so, sir."

"I see." The Maestro turned over Oliver's hands in his own. "Human hands can be permanently damaged. A shame, truly. Mutilating your hands before you've been given the opportunity to prove yourself useful would be a waste at this time, as would any corrective action that spills excessive blood."

Oliver wasn't sure if he should be relieved by that. "…Thank you, sir?"

"You have an obedient soul. I'm not wrong about such matters," said the Maestro. "It is your master's lack of discipline that is to blame for your insubordination. Therefore, I will not punish you."

"You won't, sir?" Oliver would have found this mercy difficult to believe even if he didn't notice Alexander tensing.

"You don't want to watch your master's punishment, do you?"

"No, sir."

"Then look into my eyes, child. Deep, deep into my eyes."

He didn't have a choice, as the Maestro's power drew his gaze upwards and locked it there before he fully realized what was happening.

"Deeper. Lose yourself."

There was a disconcerted ticking noise in Oliver's head, as though his ear were pressed to a clock, and he realized in terror that he was being enthralled, the power like chains wrapping around his mind. Despite Alexander's many warnings and his own resolve to be obedient and avoid trouble, Oliver couldn't help the urge to pull against it. It was bad enough to have to give over his body. The idea of this cruel vampire invading his mind was too much to bear.

But it was already too late. Oliver was already trapped in his eyes. As the ticking of the clock gradually slowed like a mechanical toy winding down, his thoughts slowed too, his vision engulfed by the cold oblivion of the Maestro's gaze.

"Close your eyes down. Tight. As tight as they can."

"Yes, sir." Oliver's eyes obediently shut, sparing him the weight of that gaze, but doing nothing to free his mind.

"I am placing lead weights on each one. Weights that are far too heavy to allow you to open your eyes on your own." A cold finger tapped each of Oliver's eyelids. "Only I can move these weights. You will not open your eyes again until I allow it."

"Yes, sir."

"Wake."

That crisp snap sounded next to Oliver's ear, and he felt the chains on his mind lift, but he did not open his eyes. Could not. Oliver couldn't help but be confused. The Maestro had full control of his body. Why go through the trouble just to make him shut his eyes?

There was one obvious, awful possibility: because he did not intend for Oliver to open his eyes ever again.

"Now that that's settled, you may take your punishment, Alexander," the Maestro said.

Oliver was forced back into a kneeling position and the Maestro placed one hand atop his head. He heard several steps across the wood floor, and then absolute silence.

Was his master actually burning his hand in the candle's flame? There was no sound at all, no cries of pain from Alexander, not even the sound of breathing. The only thing tethering Oliver to the world was that hand on top of his head. As much as Oliver would hate to see or hear his master in pain, the deathly silence and darkness and suspense made it so much worse.

And just as Oliver thought he couldn't take it any more, he smelled what he desperately hoped was not the scent of charred flesh. His spirit cried out to do something, anything, to help his master, but blinded and bound as he was, there was nothing he could do.

"Enough," said the Maestro, after what seemed like an eternity. "I grow weary of watching you disappoint me. Alexander, play."

Play? Alexander's sire couldn't possibly expect him to play an instrument with a ruined hand. Yet Oliver could hear Alexander sit down at the piano bench and begin to play a piece which obviously involved a great deal of intricate fingerwork. Perhaps his hand was not that damaged after all -- but the smell in the air said otherwise.

He didn't have long to sit and enjoy the music (as much as he could under the circumstances) because the Maestro stood and pulled Oliver up, leading him in a dance. Oliver couldn't see and didn't know the steps, but he didn't have to, as his body was once again puppeted without his input, gliding across the room with a grace that was not his own, his trembling hand trapped in that cold porcelain grasp.

"One," intoned the Maestro. "Two." Several beats of music. "Three."

Oliver didn't know what it meant. Swirling around the music room with his eyes shut tight, his anxiety was reaching a fever pitch, making it difficult for him to relax enough to allow his body to sink into the control.

"Four. Five."

He was counting the mistakes, Oliver realized. Every moment his concentration broke, his body was fighting just the smallest bit against the unwanted intrusion. Each time that happened, he would slightly miss a step, or pull against the Maestro's grip.

"Eleven. Twelve."

He couldn't focus. He couldn't follow. He couldn't stop his treacherous body from rebelling against being made the plaything of the implacable vampire in front of him. And the number was climbing.

"Twenty-two." The Maestro released his grip on Oliver, who reeled backwards. "You may stop now, Alexander. Do you see now what I was talking about? He has obedience, but lacks discipline."

"Yes, sire." Alexander sounded as dead inside as he was metaphysically.

"Try not to spill blood unnecessarily when you administer the punishment. I finally find myself with an appetite."

"Yes, sire."

Oliver didn't have to wait long to know what the punishment was. Once more, he was kneeling, and he felt a sharp blow from a thin implement sting his back. It was followed by another, and another, and although Oliver was being kept from movement, he couldn't help but cry. The anticipation of each blow was as bad as the pain, and his back felt like it was on fire.

"That's twenty-two, sire."

"Your hand was light," said the Maestro. "No matter. You had three mistakes in your playing."

He heard Alexander kneeling beside him. The blows the Maestro delivered to Alexander's back rang out through the music room, unmistakable.

"Now that that unfortunate business has been taken care of," said the Maestro as casually as though he'd been discussing an unpleasant chore, "I will take my meal."

Oliver felt every muscle in his body tense, despite the control holding him. It was wrong, wrong, wrong for anyone but his master to drink his blood, but everything about this evening had been wrong.

And it was made even worse by the fact that Oliver couldn't see what the Maestro was doing, when the bite was coming for him. All he could feel was a hand on his head and a thick vampiric aura enveloping his mind. It felt strangely empty. Not like desire or hunger or pleasure, like Oliver had always felt with his master. No, the Maestro's aura was purely about control and practicality, freezing him in position so that he could be fed from. Oliver couldn't even tilt his neck as he'd been trained.

At least a feeding wouldn't be so bad, compared to everything that had happened so far, Oliver reasoned. Miss Lily had instilled in him the craving to provide for a vampire, and the feedings he'd experienced so far had been pleasant, even euphoric. He'd been dreading it previously, but now it actually be a relief.

At least, it seemed like a relief until the Maestro's slender fangs sunk into the flesh of his neck.

Oliver gasped in surprise and pain. It hurt, agony radiating from the bite, and the sensation of teeth in his muscles was deeply violating, not to mention the uncomfortable suction of his blood being consumed. His world narrowed down to nothing but the awful, aching wound, his body spasming with the need to escape from the predator, frozen in place by unnatural means.

It hurt, of course it hurt. He should have known better than to think this might be a relief. Alexander always put him under a gentle spell of sleep and submission and pleasure as he fed, a spell that kept Oliver from feeling any of the pain that would naturally accompany his neck being bitten. Of course the Maestro would not do that, would instead relish his suffering.

As his master's sire drank his blood, his thoughts began to overpower Oliver's own, and he found…

Nothingness.

A pitch black sky with no stars or moon or clouds. An empty field devoid of life as far as the eye could see. A bitter chill sapping the strength and cheer from his very marrow.

Order. Solitude. Misery.

The inky sky rushed to meet him, to swallow him in oblivion, and Oliver thought he might be dying.

"Oliver?"

He was floating back up through the darkness, tethered by his master's voice.

"Oliver? Oliver, please wake up."

"I'm awake, sir," he said, trying to open his eyes and finding that he couldn't, the memories of what had transpired rushing back to him. He couldn't open his eyes at all, the imaginary lead weights keeping them firmly shut. He could tell that he was laid out on the padded bench, cradled gently in what he hoped was his master's arms. His back hurt and his cheek stung and the wound on his neck was intensely uncomfortable… but he was alive. "I can't…" he said, panic rising. "I can't open my eyes, sir. Is he still here? Is it over?"

"He's gone. He probably won't trouble us for some time," Alexander said. "You were brilliant, Oliver. A picture perfect thrall. I wish you didn't have to go through any of that, but you handled it all so well."

Praise from his master cut through some of Oliver's fear and pain. "Will I be able to open my eyes again, sir?"

"Yes, you will, I promise. Hypnotic commands usually fade away on their own if they're not reinforced."

"How long will that take, sir?" said Oliver. Despite the welcome reassurance that this wouldn't be forever, his mind was already filling with anxiety over how he would be able to live. How could he find his way around the expansive manor while blinded? How long would he have to go without reading?

"Well… my sire's very powerful, as I'm sure you know, and you're…"

"Weak, sir?"

"I wasn't going to say weak. You take to enthrallment very well, which has nothing to do with mental weakness, believe it or not. And it's a trait I find endearing, but unfortunately in this case it might be a problem. It could last a month, maybe more…"

Oliver's heart clenched at the idea of weeks in the dark. How could he even take care of himself? Would he be able to cook or bathe? Would he need his master to help him do all of those things? Would Alexander help him?

"…but don't worry!" said Alexander hastily, running a hand through Oliver's hair. "I'll take you to see Lily first thing tomorrow night. She can usually undo things like that, especially considering the grip she has on your mind already."

Oliver never thought he'd be so grateful for Miss Lily. "Thank you, sir. I hope it isn't too much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all. You endured all of this for me. Helping undo my sire's damage is the least I can do. Speaking of which, I've already bandaged your neck, but I should tend to the wounds on your back and make sure they aren't too serious. I could get some ice from the icebox for your face, as well."

"But what about your hand, sir? Did you actually…"

"Yes. It will heal on its own, and I can clean and bandage it later. You don't need to concern yourself with it. I wish to tend to you."

Blinded and in pain, Oliver couldn't bring himself to argue with that. "Thank you, sir."

"I can't easily undo my sire's work, but I can help ease your pain with my song. Would you like that?"

"Yes, very much, sir."

His master began to sing, and his voice was like a lifeline in the dark, soothing and relaxing him and making him feel like everything would be okay, even if it very much wasn't.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Thanks for reading. Next week: happier days with Fitz.

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[crazylittlejester]

I'd absolutely love to hear what you have to say about Time 🙃 /gen

And, I hope you are feeling well. I think you said you were dizzy? I hope that gets better 🫶

I’m feeling much better, thank you!! I hope you’re going good as well :)

Sorry this took me a whole day to type out, but I finished!! I got it!!

I have a lot more thoughts, I had to cut a lot for the sake of making it readable and not obnoxiously long so I really hope I still get my points across well 😭 , but here we go:

An Abridged Version of My Thoughts on Time (I’m Insane I’m Sorry):

Okay so I’m starting off this whole thing by saying that 100% of this is my opinion and the research I did was done specifically to back my stance (which does not make it canonical fact. You can do research to back any point. You can do research to argue against my point, even). This doesn’t make my perspective or interpretation of a character the correct one by any means, and this definitely leans towards how I personally characterize and view him and is biased in that way because I’m the one who wrote it. All of you are entitled to your own opinions, you don’t have to agree with or listen to a single thing I say. In fact if you do disagree I encourage you to reblog and share your OWN thoughts so I can read YOUR perspective! I like seeing opinions people have and I love to see how differently all of us can view the same character /gen. I just that ask if you do do this, that you be kind and respectful to myself and others :)

This entire yap, analysis, whatever you wanna call it, is my perspective on Time and my thoughts behind why I believe he acts the way he does. At some point in all this I’m specifically going to focus on how he’s acting at the end of the Dawn arc and in the more recent updates. However in order to talk about that I wanna go to the beginning and talk about his past, the environment he grew up in, his relationships with others, and how I believe that has shaped the way he functions as an adult. My apologies now for being insane, unfortunately I have no life and also a lot of thoughts, and full access to a college library full of case studies- My professors would be so proud… Hope y’all enjoy lmao

Loneliness and Isolation:

One of the first things I noticed when I started playing OOT was this divide between Link and the Kokiri. Despite the fact that none of them know he’s actually a hylian, the bullying and teasing and the way they treat him for not having a fairy feels as though they’re making him to be different from them. Even Saria and the Great Deku Tree speak to/about him in ways that make it seem that, even though they care about him, they do see him as different from the others. (Granted, Saria’s treatment of Link is likely fully an unintentional thing. She doesn’t mean to be cruel when she makes her comment about how after Link got his fairy he could be a real Kokiri because she is a child and probably didn’t think about how that would come off to a kid who’s been arguably treated as less than for not having a fairy this entire time. She’s probably aware of how upset he’s been, but they’re children and I doubt she realized her attempt at comfort potentially made Time feel worse. The Great Deku Tree, on the other hand, referring to him as ‘the boy without a fairy’ immediately makes it clear to us as the player that Link is different from the Kokiri. He knows Link is hylian, which is something the player, Link, and the Kokiri do not know at this point)

Not having a fairy like the others certainly separates Time from the Kokiri because having a fairy companion appears to be a huge deal, something everyone has in common except for him. While it isn’t really on the same scale, I imagine this feeling of not having something your friends do could be, to an extent, comparable to how it would feel if all your peers had cell phones or social media access and you did not. (BAD EXAMPLE I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT.) The ability to consume media at such a fast pace and share jokes and trends with peers has become something to bond over, and being outside of that ‘world’ would leave someone to feel like they’re missing out on something they couldn’t possibly understand unless they get it for themselves. When your friends all have phones and you don’t, you have to sit there awkwardly when they all pull them out to text people or look things up, even if you’re doing something that doesn’t even require being on your phone, like going to the mall or hanging out. Sure they might show you a meme or two, but you can’t show them your memes, or share things and exist in the online world the way they do. Time could see and interact with the others’ fairies but he didn’t have that for himself, and I imagine it was probably hard for him to bond with the Kokiri because of it. Even if they were just playing a game or messing around and he wasn’t even being teased for not having a fairy of his own, those other fairies were right there as a constant reminder that Time didn’t have his own companion because he was, for a reason he couldn’t understand, different

Having played Skyward Sword and the beginning of Twilight Princess and seeing how both of those Links are treated by the people around them in comparison to how the Kokiri interact with Time, it feels safe to say there’s a good possibility he felt out of place and a little isolated by his own community. The way he was seemingly blamed for the death of the Great Deku Tree after finding out the life altering information that he is different probably did nothing but cause further divide between himself and the Kokiri in his mind, if not completely sever the connection he had between himself and that community

Do I think the Kokiri completely excluded him and intentionally tried to isolate him? No, I do not. However it’s clear that Saria was his best friend and the others weren’t always the nicest to him. It’s not too far a stretch to say he probably felt very lonely at times in his childhood, more so than the average kid

The theme of isolation and loneliness continues when the timeline shenanigans happen at the end of OOT and Time is now the only one who knows what happened to him. He has absolutely nothing to show for what he physically just went through and he can tell people about it all he wants but they’ll never understand because for them it simply never happened. Once again Time is isolated from this community he finds himself a part of because he’s different from them in a way they cannot relate to, driving a wedge between him and the rest of society. And Malon and Zelda are not people who would intentionally drive him further from feeling like he can belong, but they will forever be different from him in a way none of them now have the power to control. He formed relationships with them and with other people that were then erased. He knows a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore (in the timeline he continued to live in), and he’s alone in that. There IS no fix to that problem

Attachment Styles and Development

Relationships are crucial to child development and the connections formed when we’re young impact the way we create and view our relationships in adulthood. Peer relationships are just as important as parental ones because they play a different role. While your friends are the ones who have more of an impact on things like your music tastes, interests, and sense of identity/role within your group of peers, it’s your parents/caregivers who teach you right from wrong (often religion plays a part in that as well though not always), are responsible for feeding you and helping you learn new skills as a young child. Having a secure attachment and good relationship to caregivers when you’re young really impacts how you seek comfort as an adult and how you form relationships with others. Children whose parents or caregivers responded to their distress in unpredictable ways (by offering comfort sometimes and being unable to other at times, for an example) are less likely to seek out those figures for comfort or be soothed by them when the comfort is offered. I have no idea exactly how old Time was when he was placed with the Kokiri or what his mother was like, but I feel it’s fair to say the Great Deku Tree was probably the closest thing to a parental figure/caregiver (while he was living with the Kokiri) that he has any memory of. And I also feel it’s fair to say that as the stationary tree guardian of a bunch of immortal children, it was pretty impossible for him to support all of those kids’ emotional needs

Making this assumption based solely on Navi’s role in the story and what she does for us as players of the game: I feel like the fairy companions might almost be more of a parental/caregiver like figure to the Kokiri children than the Great Deku Tree is, simply because they’re able to be around them more. Navi helps Time (and the player) find things, gives clues, and helps the player with the game controls, so inside the actual game I think it’d be fair to say she (and other fairies) have more of a hands on role in guiding these children than the Great Deku Tree. And again, Time didn’t have that, not until his adventure started. He didn’t have a fairy companion while his friends and peers did, he was on his own. He wasn’t getting that potential comfort from a reliable caregiver the others were, which I believe can be partly responsible for how determined he is to solve his own issues. (Of course personality also has a play in things like this, and as we all know the hero’s spirit is incredibly fucking stubborn.) He was taught through the failures of the ‘adult’ figures in his life that the only one who’d be there to really comfort him was him

Identity and Relationships

Apart from feeling alone and not having the same types of companionship his peers did, I firmly believe Time seriously struggled with identity issues as well. Being told he wasn’t enough for the Master Sword yet, just to then be suddenly physically several years older and expected to operate as an adult despite having less than a decade of life experience, back to being shoved into the body of a child after living through horrors and accumulating scars that are now just gone doesn’t real make for the most confident, mentally stable of people. The message he most likely took from that was “You’re not enough as you are.”

He was a hero who saved a kingdom, then forgotten when everything was set back, and then abandoned by the one person (fairy) who went through it all with him after it was all done. If he’d felt alone or isolated in his youth before all that happened, I can’t imagine how overwhelming all those emotions were after all that. He needed Navi because she’s the only one who can really validate what he went through, she was the only one who could have understood him. She was a guardian and a friend and he couldn’t figure out why she left him, which must’ve just been absolutely devastating.

He was still just a kid, with no one to talk to about these issues. (Though he sort of works through some of them on his own through helping others in Majora’s Mask. Granted that left him with new issues even if it may have helped him work through a few old ones. I think there are quite a lot of similarities between Link and Skull Kid, but that’s a yap for another day.) I can imagine that both his identity and what he was supposed to do with himself were things he questioned constantly, and building relationships with people was probably very difficult for him when he hadn’t fully worked out himself. And he didn’t really have someone to comfort him or help him figure all that out

At a certain point, I think the feeling of being alone became almost a comfort to him. It was the most reliable thing he had, he could handle things on his own and that was something he knew for fact. He learned how to deal with his emotions and issues (maybe not in the healthiest of ways in his youth), and instead of being so suffocating, the isolation became something he could CONTROL. With all the instability throughout his childhood, the fact that he could reliably be on his own without dealing with the unpredictability of others was probably a relief. He didn’t have to worry about people leaving or getting hurt because he couldn’t protect them, but that didn’t really replace the feeling of loneliness so much as sloppily cover it up

Malon and the ranch are things that have been able to give him something he hadn’t had in years, which was stability and companionship. He’s been alone and isolated or dealing with loss his entire life, but she’s able to provide him with something steady, something safe to come back to. That’s been absolutely huge for him in regards to the healing process, because not only is it said in LU that she believes him completely, she’s literally his biggest supporter. And having a sturdy location and person to come back to at the end of whatever little trips he probably continued to go off to gave him comfort while still allowing him to keep that feeling of control over himself and his life. Sure not everything is perfect all the time and relationships are things that you have to put time, effort, and patience into, but he’s allowed to have his support and his much needed feeling of control over his life at the same time while living in that scenario. She loves him, she loves him very much and I have no doubt they worked together to get him to the place of comfort he’s at now. The panels from any of the ‘Malon’ posts are really the most relaxed we’ve seen Time for long stretches of time, it’s clear he’s been able to make a safe space for himself there

And now here’s the part where I actually talk about the recent comic update(s)!!!!!!!! (Yippee!!!)

Time is a very quiet, stoic character in LU especially when compared to the others, which are qualities that pull a lot from the hero’s shade. He’s the unofficial official leader, and he’s at a point in his life where he’s been able to work on himself and form healthy relationships (not perfect ones, but healthy ones built on communication which is clearly a struggle for him still but I cannot afford to get into that this post because that’s way too much. If y’all want a yap about that, ask me later). He puts a lot of stress and pressure onto himself, because he feels as though he’s responsible for these younger heroes, even though some of them have far more experience than he does

But in addition to this, he’s absolutely terrified of caring about people, and he’s not used to working with other people in this area of his life. Because no one sticks around, and if they do, what’s stopping the timeline from resetting somehow and taking their memory of him away? He no longer has the stability and comfort that comes with being alone because he’s forced to work with other people, other heroes who are equal to him in that regard, and people are unpredictable. And with unpredictability comes loss of control

Anger is an easier emotion for a child to process, and express themself through. This is why depression in children often manifests itself as anger. Children dealing with depression have a harder time managing and controlling their anger and can come off as snappier, inattentive, and reckless (obviously this is not the same case for every single child). While he certainly isn’t a child anymore in LU, I think Time is still someone who when overwhelmed is quick to anger, but this does not mean that he’s not kind. He’s incredibly kind and caring, and you can tell he loves everyone around him so deeply even though he’s probably a bit angry at himself for letting them all worm their way into his heart because he’s going to have to let them go some day. But still, some of that snappiness comes through even in his adult years and he’s a lot harsher with the others than I believe he intends to be. He’s not genuinely angry at them, he’s mad at the situation they’re in right now because he’s no longer responsible for just himself. He doesn’t have control anymore, and he’s probably back to feeling like a scared child who might be about to lose everyone again and he hates that

Twilight got hurt and he blames himself for it. He’s in an unfamiliar situation with people he cares a lot about who are all just as reckless and determined as he is, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself because in his mind if he lets something happen to one of these boys, that’s on him and he should’ve done better

Ough (A Continuation of ‘Isolation’)

In a way Time exists on a different level of the timeline. He retained memories of things that no longer exist, and he’s witnessed the rewritting of time over and over again. The timeline he was born in may no longer be the one he exists in, though it certainly branched from that original one. He has knowledge and memories of relationships that are real to only him in the timeline where he lives, and I would argue that because of this, he lives outside of society

Now this genuinely has nothing to do with anything I just wanna yap about something because The Voices, and it’s gonna be a fucking reach but if you’ve stayed this long you must find something appealing about my incoherent rambling so allow me to draw a genuinely insane comparison between Time and his existence in society and ‘The Lady of Shallot’, written in 1832 by a poet by the name of Alfred Tennyson. If you have no idea what this is, it’s incredibly short and easy to find with a quick google search, and I encourage you to read it. But for those of you who didn’t sign up for a poetry assignment today I’ll summarize

The Lady of Shallot is cursed to stay in a tower away from the rest of society and she’s unable to look upon Camelot with her own eyes, because something bad will happen if she does though she has no idea what. Day after day she creates these tapestries of what she sees of the society behind her through a mirror. She’s unable to look at it with her own eyes so what she creates is unable to perfectly reflect what it is the world has to offer. And she’s absolutely sick of it, she sees happy people wandering down below, knights riding through, she sees through her mirror what life is like for those within society and she wants to join them. She sees a beautiful man one day (Lancelot) and decides the curse is worth it, just for a chance to leave her tower, so she turns around and sees Camelot with her own eyes. She leaves her tower and goes to join society but by the time she gets there she’s dead

Now one of the meanings hidden within this is how artists are almost outside of society and that is how they are able to so accurately depict it, and that joining society and being ‘normal’ would make them unable to keep their unique perspective that isolation provides. But I’m going to be crazy here and draw parallels to a video game character because I CAN

Time exists outside of society and is isolated from every community he tries to be a part of because the differences between him and the Kokiri/normal hylian are so significant he feels like he doesn’t belong there. Despite having built his sense of identity back up, he still, to an extent, feels like an outsider. The things he’s been through separate him from being able to just be a normal guy, and he craves so badly to be part of a community he’s almost convinced himself he CANNOT join. The chain (and Malon, but mainly the other heroes) help him have something to connect to, because while they may not have the exact same experience they understand him more than anyone else ever could. He then tries to join society, something happens, and he dies a warrior full of regrets

Is it a reach? Yeah. But I like the poem and I can’t stop thinking about the parallels (that I’ve probably completely fucking made up at this point) every time I think too long about Time and it makes me claw at the dry wall and scream. I’m so normal…

Anyways, *weak cough* thanks for reading, if you did. It means a lot that you’ve supported my insanity. I hope this is coherent-

Thanks Emmie for reading through this for me 😭, and special shoutout to every single one of you who sent me asks yesterday to remind me to write this I love you all sm actually:

@trash-aged-like-fine-wine @rebornofstars @blueskybehindtheclouds @captainn-hook @ghosttoasts

[biggestxsimps]

Make It Up to You

Tom Riddle x Male Reader

A/N: This was requested over on our Wattpad! I hope this is okay! I ditched my original idea so I hope it’s still fine, I'm so unfamiliar with Tom Riddle, and I have no idea how he'd act so he’s probably so ooc. Any and all feedback is appreciated! I'm so sorry it's this short, I can try to write something longer for him another time, maybe once I'm confident with writing his personality.

You and Tom had been together for about 2 months now, your feelings for the raven growing with each day. The two of you had planned a romantic evening in the courtyard, to talk as the sun set.

You had been waiting for about 20 minutes now, taking glimpses at your watch occasionally. Tom was never the type to arrive late, most of the time making it before you. So you were obviously quite curious, maybe even a little worried. Yet you continued to wait, deciding if he didn't arrive by the end of the hour, you would leave to try and find him.

You barely notice the time passing by as you watch the stars, making shapes as you fell into your own world. That was until you heard the door squeak open and fall back shut. You dropped your gaze to the out-of-breath figure standing before you. "I'm so sorry, Dear. I was caught up taking care of a few 1st years. Please forgive me for missing our date."

You let out a chuckle as you place a hand on his cheek, your face inching closer to his. "Of course I forgive you, Love. You had no control over it." He nods, leaning further into your touch, thus bringing his face dangerously close to your own.

He hums before he speaks, a hushed tone being let out. "Yes, but there is something I do have control over. How about I make it up to you? Perhaps somewhere a little more private?" His lips softly pressed onto yours as he awaited an answer.

Once he pulls back, you give him your approval. The two of you were now quick to rush into the nearest bathroom, moving into the nearest stall as your hands turned the lock.

You pushed him against the stall door as your lips collided, his hands holding onto whatever part of you they could as one of yours moved to the nape of his neck, your fingers curling into his short locks. Your breaths become rapid and uneven as the both of you struggle to pull off each other's robes, your lips still locked together.

As both of your robes fall to the ground, you pull back. Your hot, short breaths mingle with each other's before you move back in, his arms now wrapped around your neck as you pull his body into yours. The kiss now somehow deeper than before as Tom brings his hands to your chest, pulling at your tie before fiddling with the buttons on your blouse.

You assist him, taking your hands off of him as you finish the last couple of buttons before letting it fall, it landing on top of your forgotten robe. Tom's fingers run through your hair as you start to work on his button-up, your hands fumbling around as they reach lower.

As he's about to pull his shirt off, a voice echoes through the stone bathroom.

"Naughty Naughty, you're gonna get caughty."

Your heads turn at the unmistakable sound of Peeves' taunting, Tom's quickly pulling his clothes back on as you pick yours up from the floor, the poltergeist continues. "Headmaster Dippet won't be proud to hear this." He quickly scurries away as you're left with an embarrassed Tom.

"I should probably go and sort that out." His words were breathy, still recovering from the lack of air minutes prior. You nod, chuckling as he quickly fixes his appearance before he opens the door to the stall, rushing out the bathroom to try and beat Peeves to the Headmaster's office.

A/N: I really don't like this, I don't think I did it as well as I could've. I hope it's still readable though. I also wanted to say thank you guys for the amount of requests, it makes things just that bit easier! And thank you for all the support, we really appreciate it!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

[most-calm-revice-and-geats-fan]

Kamen Rider Den-O Novel Translation (Novel: Kamen Rider Den-O: The Demon Dog of Tokyo World Tower)

Happy Easter, everyone! ^w^

Just dropping that in since I got it done before Easter ended, in my timezone, but I got a third translation out: FINALLY! I got my hands on the Den-O novel!!! I actually skimmed through this one quicker than I thought!

Sorry if so much of this is confusing, or ye- The translation I used was in Chinese. Plus, this is another novel, like the W novel, there it's told via the protagonist's POV, that being Ryotaro's. Damn, was not expecting that from the Imagin, too- But overall, this is another novel with a sweet-ish ending!

If there's anything incorrect, anything needing corrected in any way (like misspelling), please let me know so I can fix it. Thanks a lot! Hope you enjoy reading!! (If it's readable at least)

yes we do have some wild shiz

Chapter 0: Hisui

Chapter 1: Feburary 10 2005

Chapter 2: Demon Dog of EightLiner

Chapter 3: The Man Who Knows the Future

Chapter 4: Fantasy Wine

Chapter 5: Contract Holder

Chapter 6: Second Imagin

Chapter 7: Interlude

Chapter 8: Jade

Chapter 9: Pastrami at Night

Chapter 10: September 15 2008

Chapter 11: April 23 2013, and its Future

I sadly couldn't find the Zeronos novel while translating Den-O's, but hopefully one day I'll find it! Glad I was finally able to do this!!! Sorry if things are still kinda mid-