#The Punisher (game based on film)

[g4zdtechtv]

THE PILE PRESENTS: G4TV.com - Chaos Theories of a Vulpine Quality | 4/8/05

It can't handle carrying a gun and a flashlight at the same time.

(4GTV - STREAM WHAT YOU PLAY!)

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

So like, it's okay to be good and nobody is born evil and anyone can change the path they're on, yadda yadda yadda, but I actually think one of the biggest lessons Megamind learns over the course of the film is the shocking revelation that actions have consequences.

I'm not even kidding. When you put aside the whole 'evil' thing, one of Megamind's biggest flaws is his entirely screwed up notion of cause and effect.

Like, the whole reason the plot happens is because it apparently never occurred to Megamind that 'carrying out elaborate plots to kill Metroman' could ever result in 'dead Metroman'. Nor that creating a new hero with the specific motivation of defeating him, Megamind, could lead to negative consequences for him, Megamind. Or that riling said hero up into a murderous rage could have the unforeseen consequence of that hero raging around murderously.

Dude spent at least a few years kidnapping Roxanne, threatening her with alligators and lasers and various other villainous knick-knacks, only to disguise himself as somebody else and lie to her until she fell in love with this fake identity he'd created and is genuinely shocked when she is upset upon finding this out.

Not just that she did find out, but that post-her finding out he is unable to talk her into continuing the relationship.

“We don't judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance… we judge them based on their actions.”

“Seems kinda petty, don't you think?”

Megamind may be a genius when it comes to inventions and evil plans, but he's a fucking idiot when it comes to predicting and anticipating the obvious results of his actions.

And thing is, it makes total sense why he would be like that.

He spent his childhood being consistently punished by the adults in his life, often for no reason that he could understand or even for no reason at all. As a result, he stops viewing punishment as a consequence of his behaviour and starts seeing it as a consequence of him being 'evil', which of course leads to him leaning into his evil persona and eventually becoming a supervillain.

And, as a supervillain, ironically enough, he's completely sheltered from consequence by his greatest enemy, Metroman.

Megamind doesn't need to worry about his evil plans hurting any citizens, because Metroman will use his powers to save them. Megamind doesn't have to worry about the damage he does to the city, because Metroman can fix it.

Megamind does in theory have to worry about social consequences for his behaviour, but the social consequences are being locked in prison and having everybody hate him which is like, the default status quo of his existence since he was a baby.

He literally calls the prison as 'home', a word he does not use to refer to his Evil Lair or indeed anywhere else in the film barring his home planet. Going there is an inconvenience, maybe, but it's not really a punishment. It's where he lives.

Metroman's 'death' changes all that.

Not only does one of Megamind's evil plans finally destroy something that (seemingly) can't be fixed, but he's then turned loose on the city with no superhero to run around after him cleaning up his mess.

Now, if he steals all the artwork in the gallery, then Metro City will no longer have artwork in it's gallery, and people (Roxanne) will miss it and be upset. If he doesn't take care to clean the streets then the streets… will be dirty, and people (Roxanne) will be negatively affected.

If he gives a random, unstable, person superpowers and then goes out of his way to piss that person off, then that person can't be guaranteed upon to “play the game” just because that's what Metroman did, and people (Megamind… then everybody else) will be negatively affected.

And the flipside of this is that, by the end of the film, he wins the battle because he realises "hey, I can change this". If his negative actions have negative consequences then he can choose to do the positive thing instead and save the city.

[cantstops1mping]

Bored

꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

// 🖤 - smut//

2121 words

{ao3}

§Yang Jeong-in | I.N. x m!reader x Christopher Bahng | Bangchan, m!reader x OT8 Stray Kids§

[male reader, bottom!reader, top!Yang Jeong-in | I.N., top!Christopher Bahng | Bangchan, 9th member!reader, maknae!reader, reader gets called: dove. jagi. jagiya. slut. whore, skirt, stockings, overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics, crying during sex, oral sex m.receiving (reader & bangchan), anal sex, unprotected sex, punishment, femboy not really, humiliation kink, groping, free use, couch sex, threesome, size kink, porn with plot]

«Jeongin got bored and you were the only one who could cure his boredom.»

This is my first smut! hope you all like it! (>/////< " )

Lee Know had put you in a skirt as punishment for being a brat while you all were filming Skzcode last week. 

The skirt punishment, one you hated with your entire being. No underwear, stockings, and this very small skirt which left little to the imagination. It only covered half of your ass and left your dick fully revealed at the front. 

The skirt meant free use, not that free use isn't always a thing, but it's more than usual. Over the couch, on the floor, pressed on the wall, on the counter, in the shower, everywhere.

Depending on how bad you were, a time limit was given for how long you had to wear the skirt. Sometimes it was a day, sometimes it was a week, sometimes even 2 weeks.

This time, it was only a week; a week of pure humiliation from all the other members. 

“Aww look at your tiny dick just hanging there; do you have no shame?”

“Dove, I dropped this mind picking it up?”

“Did that get you hard? Everything just goes straight to your dick doesn’t it?”

That's just a few of the things they say, along with sneaking pictures of your ass; the entire time is a nightmare for you.

Today you were happy to find out that 3racha and Seungmin were out to the studio to record and edit, while danceracha was out practicing, leaving you in an empty house. 

Well, almost empty. Everyone was out except Jeongin, your youngest hyung.

You wish you could take off the skirt but Jeongin was still here. You knew you would get spanked if ever tried taking it off and hiding it so you kept it on. You just opted to just stay in your room all day.

…

“Jagi, mind getting me water?” Jeongin yells from the living room

“Ok!” you yell back unhappily.

Slowly you walk out of your room and to the living room. You see Innie playing a game. Trying to quickly pass by him he grabs your arm and yanks you on his lap. “had to distract me didn’t you? Walking by like a slut in that short skirt.” he says while groping your ass.

As he gropes your ass, you can't help but get hard.

“already hard? You only think with your dick, don't you?” he says into your ear slyly.

He quickly manhandles you to lie on the couch. Ass up on the arm of the couch leaving your legs hanging off the side of the couch. “Hyung! Wait!” you yelp as he moves you around like a ragdoll.

“Wait? Why? Let me make you feel good, jagiya. You clearly want it” he smirked making you blush.

He lifts your skirt up to reveal the entirety of your hardened dick. He wraps his hand around the base of your erection. Jeongin’s hand almost covers your entire dick. Just leaving the tip out. “Look at how small your dick is. You can barely see it.” He says as he fakes a pout. 

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Jeongin continues to taunt you about the size of your dick. He starts to stroke you slowly, his grip firm but gentle. You can't help but moan softly at the sensation, the embarrassment mixing with pleasure in a confusing whirlwind of emotions.

Jeongin leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Do you like that, whore? Do you like being teased and humiliated like the naughty little slut you are?" His words send shivers down your spine.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the pleasure building up inside you. Jeongin's hand works magic on you, his movements, calculated and precise, driving you wild with need. You grip the edge of the couch tightly, your whole body tingling with anticipation.

As you reach your peak, Jeongin speeds up his strokes, his thumb rubbing against your tip in just the right way to send you over the edge. With a strangled cry, you come hard, the intensity of your release leaving you breathless and dizzy. Jeongin smirks triumphantly, his hand still wrapped around your spent cock.

You lie there, panting and flushed, feeling a strange mixture of shame and satisfaction wash over you. You see Jeongin go down on his knees. “Wait what a-” You're interrupted by a moan escaping as Jeongin puts your dick in his mouth. It immediately hardened as you felt his wet mouth. 

“W-wait I just came!” you whine as he starts bobbing his head up and down. 

He quickly releases your dick from his mouth with a pop. “you're telling me your dick isn't hard?” he says quickly as he goes back to sucking your cock.

You can't help but moan at the sensation of his warm mouth enveloping your sensitive length once again. Jeongin's skilled tongue swirls around you, expertly teasing and coaxing another wave of pleasure from your body. Despite just having come, your cock responds eagerly to his ministrations, hardening once more under his touch.

The feeling of Jeongin's mouth moving up and down your shaft, the wet heat and suction creating an overwhelming sensation that leaves you gasping and writhing beneath him. You can't believe how good it feels.

As Jeongin continues his relentless assault on your cock, you can feel yourself reaching the edge once again. The pleasure builds and builds, spiraling out of control until you can't hold back any longer. With a guttural moan, you release once more, into Jeongin’s mouth. Your body shuddering with the force of your climax.

Jeongin pulls back and swallows, a satisfied smirk on his face as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Such a naughty little slut, coming for me twice in a row," he says, his voice dripping with amusement and satisfaction. You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through you.

As you catch your breath, Jeongin leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Don't think this is over, baby. I'm just getting started with you." as he says this his hand engulfs your cock again.

“Wait! Hyung, please it's too much! Hyung!” you begged in between moans, almost crying.

“Why would I stop when you're already hard?” He says with a smirk on his face.

You feel yourself being pushed to the edge once again, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as Jeongin's hand works its magic on your sensitive length. His touch is relentless, driving you wild with need and desire. You can't help but moan and writhe beneath him, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear.

As Jeongin continues to stroke you, his movements becoming faster and more urgent, you can feel yourself teetering on the brink of another release. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as you spiral closer and closer to the edge. The rings on his hands leaving a cooling effect on your heated length, making you weak.

You try pushing jeongin's hand off of your overstimulated cock. Trying to not burst into tears from the overstimulation.

“Hey, has anyone seen m-” Chan gets interrupted with a moan from you.

“Chan, can you hold his hands?” Jeongin asks the older man.

“No, no! Please!” You weep. Begging Chan to stop Jeongin from any further assault on your dick.

Chan hesitates for a moment, looking conflicted as he sees the distress written all over your face. But ultimately, he complies with Jeongin’s request and takes hold of your hands, preventing you from pushing Jeongin away.

As Jeongin continues to pleasure you, Chan watches with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, he can feel his dick hardening. His grip on your hands was harsh. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and the way your body trembles from the overwhelming sensations.

Jeonging slips two fingers into your ass. Adding to the simulation, making you cry harder.

The mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelming your senses. Jeongin's expert touch on your cock, combined with the intrusion of his fingers into your ass, sends you spinning into a whirlwind of pleasure. Tears stream down your face as you fall completely to the mercy of your youngest hyung and Chan, who holds your hands in place, preventing you from escaping the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

Your moans and cries fill the room, the sound of your desperation and need echoing off the walls. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that threatens to consume you entirely. The humiliation mingling with the overwhelming pleasure in a way that excites you.

As Jeongin continues to pleasure you, his fingers moving in and out of your ass with a relentless rhythm, you feel yourself teetering on the brink of another release. The combination of sensations is almost too much to bear, the overwhelming pleasure threatening to consume you entirely. You can't help but cry out in ecstasy, your body trembling with the force of your impending climax.

With a final, guttural moan, you feel yourself climax once more, your body shaking with the force of your release. You're left panting and breathless, completely spent and overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. Jeongin smirks triumphantly, his hand still wrapped around your quivering cock.

As you try to catch your breath, Jeongin leans in close once again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're such a good little slut, aren't you? Coming for us like that, over and over again." His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and pleasure washing over you.

Jeongin flips you over on your stomach with one swift motion, making you yelp. He presses your face into the cushions of the couch, your ass exposed and vulnerable. You can hear Jeongin shuffling behind you, while Chan gets his rock-hard cock out. 

With a sudden thrust, Jeongin pushes his dick into you, making you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The sensation of being penetrated so suddenly and forcefully sends a jolt of electricity through your body, causing you to clench your muscles in response. You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you to your limits and filling you in a way that leaves you breathless.

Meanwhile, Chan positions himself in front of you, his hard cock bobbing in front of your face. He taps your cheek gently, indicating that he wants you to open your mouth for him. You comply, feeling a sense of submission and obedience as you eagerly take him into your mouth. The taste of him is musky and slightly salty, but you find yourself enjoying the feeling of him against your tongue.

As Jeongin continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming faster and more urgent, you can feel yourself being pushed to the brink once again. The sensation of being taken from both ends is overwhelming, the thrill of the situation only adding to your arousal. You can feel the beginning of a familiar tension building in your body, the pleasure and pain mixing together in a heady cocktail that threatens to drive you over the edge.

You can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the groans and moans filling the room as you're being used by both Jeongin and Chan. The air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the intensity of the moment almost suffocating in its power. You can feel yourself surrendering to the sensations, losing yourself in the pleasure of being taken so thoroughly and completely.

As Jeongin's thrusts became more erratic and desperate, you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another climax. The pressure building inside you is almost unbearable, the need for release driving you to the brink of oblivion. You can't help but cry out, the overwhelming sensations taking hold of you completely.

With a final, desperate cry, you feel yourself plummet over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. You can feel Chan pulsing inside your mouth, his own climax adding to the intensity of the moment. You're left trembling and breathless, completely spent and overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

As you lie there, panting, you can feel Jeongin and Chan's hot breath on your skin, their bodies pressed against yours in a tangle of limbs and sweat. “Honestly I called you over to get me water because I was bored and hard,” Jeongin says to you smirking 

“And I forgot what I came here for,” Chan says with a groan.

© cantstops1mping 2024; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without giving me credit or without my permission!

[kisakis-boyfriend]

How about headcanons for Camboy AU Freminet who uses his helmet to hide his identity? What’s his online niche? Does he do private shows?? Is his username penguin related???

Pairings: None

Warnings: Sub/bottom!Freminet, adult Freminet, pillow humping, sex toys, overstimulation, camboy AU

I am unfamiliar with French unfortunately, but I came up with pingouindoré69 as a username :)

Lyney was the one to suggest tacking on the '69' at the end 😅

His niche is definitely oceanic themed sets/roleplays. Freminet has a small room reserved just for his cam shows, painted blue with minimal furniture so that he can easily set up props and backgrounds

I definitely think he'd want his shows to be incredibly immersive when he does roleplays and such

His roleplays are scenarios such as: A diver getting fucked by tentacle monsters. An unsuspecting adventurer being ravaged by all sorts of monsters and creatures; depending on which dildo Freminet or the viewers choose~

Freminet is also well known for using all sorts of strangely shaped dildos (dragon dicks, horse dicks, lawachurl dicks, toys with knots at the base, toys with varying textures such as bumps and ridges, all different sizes 'n colours)

Owns a whole collection of tentacle dildos (that both Freminet himself and his audience fucking adore~)

The thin pink tip slides up into the young boy's hole as he slowly lowers himself onto the toy. It's a perfect replica of a classic tentacle; reddish-pink and covered in suckers from top to bottom. If the slutty moans pouring from the boy's mouth mean anything, they must indicate that those suckers feel heavenly as each and every one drags against his walls while he inserts the length

He carefully bounces on the tentacle, working it deeper inside with every downward thrust. The inside of his helmet grew steamier as the show went on, bringing an uncomfortable film of moisture to his milky skin. After a few minutes, the thick base of the tentacle pressed against the boy's ass cheeks — the entire length of the toy filled him up and made a slight bulge in his little tummy. A sight that the viewers thoroughly enjoyed~

The boy's cock bobbed with each thrust, begging to be touched and release all of that sticky cum trapped inside. Alas, our camboy's generous viewers had donated enough mora to already meet tonight's special punishment goal — 50,000 mora for the little diver to ignore his dick, forbidden from touching it even once. And he was a very good boy, so he torturously obeys the goal, crying inside of his helmet throughout every anal-only orgasm

—

Private shows are few and far between. Mainly reserved for special occasions, and even then the cost is rather steep. Freminet is just too shy to do one-on-one sessions often...but when they do occur? Ooohh baby–

The lucky viewer can request just about anything from him. Freminet won't remove his helmet and he sticks to his hard no's, but as long as your request is within his boundaries and capabilities, it's all fair game

They can bring out this boy's inner slut easily; making him degrade himself for their amusement. They can request that he use any number of the toys from his vast collection too

Make him stuff two monster dildos deep within his hole? Ask him to creampie himself with a fake cum pump inside of a massive tentacle toy? Request that he pinch his cute nipples and call himself “Daddy's little slut”?

Yep, Freminet will do it all~ If the viewer is kind enough to spend their mora on this private time with him, then they deserve a real treat!!

The viewers also fawn over his voice often. The echo from his helmet amplifies the abundance of whines, moans, and pleas that fall from his lips. His loyal viewers eat that up every time 💙

Freminet streams himself humping a pillow a couple times. Those shows quickly skyrocket in views, becoming some of his most popular streams

“Oh- oh gods...wa-wanna cum—!! ” The eager boy moans, thrusting wildly against his fluffy pillow. His head hangs low as overstimulation begins to kick in. Every 5,000 mora adds five more minutes to his humping session; every individual 10,000 mora donation delays his orgasm for just as long

Larger incremental donations mean that Freminet might do something such as calling himself a filthy whore (or whatever the viewer wants if they donate enough to add their own message), playing with his chest, or placing a vibrator underneath the pillowcase

Freminet's muscles ache as he's stuck grinding against the pillow for hours, his dick leaks clear precum everywhere. The fluid sticks to his lovely thighs with every drag against the pillow, and Freminet is left whining like an adorable whore the entire time

[v3suvia]

On Diomedes of Argos.

Typically, when people think about their favorite heroes of the Trojan siege, they think of the likes of Achilles, or Odysseus, or even Agamemnon (or if you’re based, Hector.) And while these are all valid to whatever extent— because let’s be real, no one is choosing favorites based on who has the purest moral standpoint— they’re not exactly remembered for the noblest of reasons.

Achilles spends half of the Iliad inside his tent as a sulky burrito, and the other half slaughtering Trojans and crying over the consequences of his own actions. Odysseus is a chronic liar, and Agamemnon is Agamemnon. But at the end of the day, they’re still remembered (for better or for worse, really.)

Though, on the topic of Homeric heroes, I feel there is one who is often overlooked despite achieving great feats over the course of the epic; Diomedes of Argos. (Note: arguably the most metal of the Achaean heroes at Troy.) So, let’s rant talk about him!

Diomedes was one of the key players in Homer’s Iliad— a recount of the last year of the Trojan siege. Being summoned to fight under oath, Diomedes headed his fleet of 80 ships to Ilium. As well as having a whole chapter dedicated to how kickass he was [read more about that whole thing here], the king of Argos was also a master strategist, and extremely noble— not just in his war efforts.

For example, there are multiple points in the Iliad where he checks the leader of the Trojan expedition, Agamemnon, calling him out on his cowardice or for otherwise being an inadequate leader, [Book 9; ‘Agamemnon, I will begin by taking issue with you over your proposal… do you really believe the Greeks are the cowards and weaklings you say they are? If you for one, have set your heart on getting away, then go.’] [‘Zeus has granted you many things… He gave you the sceptre of power and the honour that comes with it, but he did not give you courage— and courage is the secret of authority.]

And one instance where he truces with the Trojan hero, Glaucus— both of them exchanging armors (on an active battlefield, btw) to honor the fact that their grandfathers had been allies, [Book 6; ‘So let us avoid each other’s spears... And let us exchange our armor so that everyone will know our grandfather’s friendship has made friends of us.’]

He is also one of the only soldiers in the war who avoids committing hubris in the entire epic, which is probably the most telling of all his virtuous traits.

Diomedes also has a proverb named after him! ‘Diomedean Necessity/Diomedean Compulsion', which basically means when someone does something for the greater good (despite the reluctance of the person in question.)

This is taken from the myth of Odysseus and Diomedes taking the wooden statue of Athena— dubbed the Palladium— from Ilium. During this heist, Odysseus tries to stab Diomedes in the back to steal the acclaim of taking the Palladium for himself.

Rather than punishing Odysseus on account of betraying his ally for personal gain, Diomedes ties him up and drags him back to camp instead, because he knew the Greeks couldn’t win the war without Odysseus’ wisdom.

Anyway, why the rant? Sure, I could sit here and convince you that he’s the coolest Greek hero, but what would I be trying to accomplish in doing so? Well, it’s simply because while every other Homeric hero is recognized and represented in modern media, Diomedes isn’t.

He wasn’t even mentioned once in Troy (2004), the film adaptation of the Iliad! Despite him being the focus of multiple chapters in the book, as well as playing a big role in the Achaean army’s over-all victory.

I’m sick of everyone (and by that, I mean most modern media) depicting him as though he was just some dude™ in the Iliad when he was actually (from a mildly biased standpoint) one of the best of the Achaeans at Troy.

TLDR; Diomedes of Argos = Based. He solos ur favs (probably. He almost killed Ajax the greater at Patroclus’ funeral games 💀)Put him in more movies/shows/games so me and the other two Diomedes fans can be happy.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

The Hollywood Writer Strike: Demands

The WGA has officially gone on strike, freezing Hollywood’s ability to make anything but rebooted old game shows, sleazy reality shows, and Star Trek Lower Decks. Here is a list of the guild’s demands to return to work:

Writers must be paid in actual money, and not solely in movie ticket discount coupons to their own films.

If a studio AI duplicates the entirety of a writer’s unmade script, that writer can no longer be sued by the studio for copyright infringement on the AI script, should their real script ever be made.

Writers must be credited for their work even if producers think their name will look funny in the credits, in accordance with the proposed "Eszterhas Law."

Writers must be entitled to eat and drink at any time, and not only on completion of page quotas. They must also gain the right to drink filtered water, not just tap or ditch water.

Hazing in writers rooms must no longer allow for any acts that may render the writer permanently unable to write.

Actors may no longer hunt writers for sport, even during awards season.

Studios must not force writers to type or print material in their own blood (known in the industry as "Verhoeven Calligraphy").

Writers working on deferred payment can no longer be starved, beaten, dismembered, or boiled to death in their own mothers’ milk just for a producer’s amusement. The producer must now have an actual reason.

Studio executives may not punish writers with electrical or flame based torture, nor keelhauling, sleep deprivation in excess of one year, acts in violation of Geneva conventions, killing of their firstborn children, or forcing them to work with J.J. Abrams. All these techniques are strictly reserved for visual effects personnel, may God have mercy on their souls.

As per Hollywood tradition, the WGA will hold out for long enough to cull all but the ten most popular writers, who will then set out to begin anew in a distant land (Mid-Wilshire) and reforge the Hollywood system as its executives, who will then hire and abuse new writers, beginning the cycle again.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: Schools

Honestly surprised I didn’t cover this topic sooner, considering the characters are in high school. I’ll stick mainly to that range but I’ll bring in some broader information just for some additional knowledge. Like all my posts like this please consider this a starting point! If you’re interested look more into it as I can’t cover all of it and I’m trying to go off what’s potentially ‘most relevant’ to people’s fic writing.

Two important bits of context for 1960s schools: Student rights and desegregation.

‘Old school’-

Real quick terminology was a little different to refer to schools like elementary school would sometimes be “primary school” (I know this is still the case in Europe/Canada but large parts of the us no longer say this) or “grammar school” as a sort of preschool- early elementary range.

Junior high was also more common for a middle school but still used today in some parts. The age layout used to be different, sometimes depending on where you were kids from 12-18 would all be in the same huge school.

There were no smart boards or whiteboards. Chalkboards, pull down maps — students turned in everything either in cursive or written on a type writer! (There were entire typing classes for this skill as well. Then again when computers were slowly implemented in the 1980s) there were projectors however — either overhead, slide projector(which goes through a bunch of small photos aka slides) or a movie projector for educational film!

Copies were different too, worksheets would likely be from a Ditto (which had a particular smelling ink students loved).

What students carried-

No backpacks! It’s not until the mid 80s this really becomes a thing for schools. Lockers were used and you’d just carry home what books or materials needed, sometimes there were books traps which were mainly used by younger students (it’s a belt that goes around your books basically) girls would sometimes bring larger purses so they’d be able to carry the books too.

This is why there’s the trope of “oh Billy carry my books for me?💕” or students walking home with everything in their arms like in Halloween (1978)

Textbooks were pricey and the students responsibility so there’d be textbook covers! Sometimes nice ones were made when there’s something you like on it but if you’re poor or want your own custom ability you’d use a paper grocery bag.

There are those who buy lunch but if you bring it you either have a tin lunchbox or a brown paper bag (sack lunch) no cloth ones.

As mentioned above there was a lot more “life skills” based classes than there are today, some may exist in more rural communities but a lot of these got cut. Typing classes, drivers ed (in school!!), shop (Auto, wood and Metal), home economics -> from cooking, laundry, balancing checkbook etc.

Being called on/corrected-

Students weren’t people until the late 60s. I’m not kidding there were Supreme Court cases as there was a tendency of treatment and rights being actually acquainted to prisoners.

Dress codes weren’t as strict as the 40s and 50s but you’re still not wearing a tube top and daisy dukes to school. However the 60s are the age of teen rebellion…

Corporal punishment! You were allowed to be hit by a teacher if deemed necessary. Sending to the office/punishment in general was also more common : detention, suspension, expulsion etc (I mean this as actual and not just irrational as lately there’s been almost too lax)

Truancy officers! Making sure kids are in school, not skipping, missing etc.

There also seems to be more academic demand and rigor on the outside looking in on the time period, however I’ll say it with a grain of salt as some of it may be a ‘back in my day’ style…

Locality-

In a small or rural town school events would mean far more, especially back then. Clubs, fundraisers, carnivals and sports all were a huge part of students and the communities social life! Going to watch the football game was a big thing. Same goes for school dances like prom and homecoming.

This also makes things like superlatives, awards, sports wins etc more impactful.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

◇ The Lady In Armour - King Baldwin x Reader: Part 2 (Final Part) ◇

◇ Long Fic ◇

A/N: Hello! This is part 2 of a fic I wrote a few days ago requested by the lovely @lzsia! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven and not the real historical figures. This will be the last part (mainly because it would hurt too much to write a charicter death😭) but also because I think it wrapped up nicely, I hope everyone agrees! This is set pre-film. Enjoy!

PS: Also this has a desctiption of y/n

TW: Leprosy, mentions of death

Y/n was unsure how to approach this conversation. She was unprepared for such an informal meeting. When Tiberias told her that the king would be “deciding her fate”, she expected a trial to decide if she lives or dies. Not a personal conversation about her past. But nevertheless, if the king was prepared to be kind and spare her life, she would take it over being sentenced to death.

“Well, I was never supposed to be in the battle. It was a mistake” y/n began. “I was a mercenary in Saladin’s army and I was tricked into joining by a man who I belived was my friend” she paused, unwilling to go much further. She was not willing to share such details of her life with a man she had just met, royalty or not.

“Interesting,” Baldwin replied after a few moments. “And how did you come to be a mercenary?” he pressed. Y/n felt unsure of this. It seemed that he was questioning her for information on how to proceed in punishing her. But his eyes told a different story. He looked genuinely interested in what she had to say. He was a very complex man, nowhere near as simple minded as the other men in the mercenaries.

“I left my family when I was 14 to join. My father had been a mercenary as well, I wished to avenge his death since he had no sons to do it for him” y/n stated.

“That was a very kind thing for you to have done,” Baldwin smiled kindly. Y/n was suprised by his words. “Thank you sir” she attempted to hide her confusion. “If I may ask a question, your majesty? y/n added quickly. “Of course,” he answered just as fast.

“Why have I not been executed? Or enslaved? You have treated me with the utmost respect and yet I am a prisoner of war. Why is that?” She was sure by now he knew how suspicious she was of his compassion.

Baldwin sighed before speaking. “Well, last night when I saw you for the first time, you intrested me. Your strength in the face of death was admirable, I had to know more about you”. Now it was y/n’s turn to listen intently. Nobody had ever said something like that to her before. Most men in her hometown simply complemented her looks or body, not her strength.

She couldn't help but smile at his honesty. “That is very kind of you to say. Truth be told, I was suspicious of your compassion, but truly you are the most intriguing man I have ever met. With your permission I would love to get to know you also” Baldwin was pleasantly surprised by her reply. She had a fabulous way with words, more so than any woman he had ever met. “That would be wonderful,” he replied. “Can you play chess?” he added, gesturing to the small table on the opposite side of the room. “Yes, my father taught me” 

“Excellent, would you care to play?” he offered enthusiastically.

Y/n chuckled at his excitement, “yes, I would love to”. 

----------------

The two played in silence. She was far better than he assumed her to be and more than once she had him completely backed into a corner. Yet another thing about her that shocked him. The game went on for a long while until y/n called out, “check mate”. Baldwin was lost for words. She was incredible. He had not even noticed that she could win in one more move. Y/n grinned when she noticed his widened eyes and bewildered expression. He turned his head from the board to meet her eye.

“You had me interested madame, but now you have me but now have me encapsulated”. Y/n tilted her head to the side, her smile never changed.

“There is much more to me than this”

“And I will listen until I hear everything there is to tell” he replied.

The two played one more game of chess until the sun sunk below the horizon. The candle light and the setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow.

They wished they had more time together, but soon the king's physicians would soon arrive to clean his wounds and change his bandages. They said their farewells and made arrangements to see eachother again the following afternoon before two guards escorted y/n back to the servant chambers. Baldwin had requested that she not be kept in the dungeon with the other prisoners. She was far too precious for that.

Once his physicians concluded their work and departed from his chambers, the king lay on his bed, thinking. Just as he had done the night before. But this time, his thoughts were far happier. The day had gone perfectly. She was incredible. Her sharp mind had him amazed. He desperately wanted to hear more about her. Perhaps even tell her some things about himself. Her beautiful face was the last thing to cross his mind before he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

On the other side of the castle, y/n was in a very similar situation. The king had her intrigued as much as she had him interested. He was very different to what she had assumed. She believed he would be arrogant, as many men his age were. But not at all. He was very wise for his age and surprisingly kind. Not only that, but he was far more attractive than she expected.

The bandages around his nose and cheeks somehow added to his already perfect face. His golden blonde hair looked soft and his eyes were like a clear blue sky. She had no idea what was happening to her. Being attracted to a man such as him came with risks. Perhaps he was using her for information on Saladin’s army? She had to remain focused and not allow her feelings to get in the way. But she couldn't deny the fact that these feelings were definitely at the front of her mind.

Y/n lay awake for a few more hours before finally closing her eyes and allowing herself to fall into a light sleep.

-----------------

The next morning y/n was awake early. The small group of servant women from yesterday had provided her with a new set of clothing. She cleaned up her appearance and waited in the servant chambers to be retrieved and escorted to the king. She found herself looking forward to seeing him. She wondered what they would do together. What questions he would ask while watching her with his full attention. A smile crossed her face at the thought of that. 

Finally Tiberias, accompanied by two guards, arrived to escort her. They made a few different turns than yesterday causing y/n to feel suspicion creep up again. She was almost tempted to ask where they were going, but thought best to stayed silent.

Finally, they came to an archway that led to the castle courtyard. The suspicion drained away when she saw the king sitting on a bench close to the arch, reading a book.

He looked up and smiled when he saw them. “Good afternoon my lady,” he greeted her, kissing her hand gently. “Good afternoon, your majesty,” she replied. “Leave us,” Baldwin told the guards. They turned to walk away, Tiberias followed. 

“Now, shall we take a walk?” the king asked, holding out an arm for her to hold. “Of course” y/n replied warmly, taking his arm.

The gardens of the castle were beautiful. Something out of a fairy tale. The grass was impossibly green, and every flower was brighter than the last. The courtyard was massive, giving them plenty of time to enjoy eachothers company. The two spoke of many things, but y/n avoided talking too much about herself, hoping Baldwin would not notice.

He did infact notice. “Enough about me, how about yourself? You mentioned leaving your family. Do you have any siblings?” he asked curiously. “Yes I do, three most unpleasant sisters” she replied.

Baldwin chuckled at that. “And I believed growing up with one was enough!”

Y/n grinned. “Yes, three of them was more than enough sisterly-experience for me. They disliked me as much as my mother did” 

“Was your mother against you joining the mercenaries?” he asked

“Very much so, she refused to allow me to even approach my fathers sword for fear that I would ‘get ideas’. But my mind was made up the second I received word of my fathers death”

Baldwin hummed in reply, obviously deep in thought at the statement. 

The pair sat down on a small grassy hill and continued to speak of y/n’s family. She finally gave in a little and told him about her experience in the mercenaries, her family's disapproval of her behavior and how her father was the only one in her family to fan the flame of her spirit.

It was early evening when a small framed servant woman came to tell the two that dinner had been prepared.

“Would you care to join me for dinner y/n?” the king asked. Up until this point, she had been eating whatever leftovers were brought to the servant chambers. “I would love to, but are prisoners supposed to dine with royalty?” she asked coyly, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Baldwin smiled, “from now on, you are no longer a prisoner. You are a guest”.

------------------

The dinner was just the two of them on account of everybody else being preoccupied with other duties. It was pleasant for both of them.

Y/n appreciated the food being still warm this time, enjoying the first good meal she had in months. Maybe years. Once they had finished, it was already dark outside. Baldwin suggested that they go to his chambers to continue their conversation. 

------------------

“Y/n, may I tell you something?” the young king asked once they were both settled. “Of course you can,” she replied, quickly becoming curious. Baldwin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I really like you y/n” He paused. “I know we have only known each other for a few days, but you are the most wonderful person I have ever met. I do not want you to leave. I do not want this to end” he took her hand in his. “I have been alone for so long and I believed I would be alone forever, but you have seen past my disease and right into my heart”.

Y/n felt warmth swell in her chest. She refused to deny her feelings any longer. For the first time in her life, she let go of logic and thought with her heart. And her heart wanted him. “I am not going to leave you Baldwin. It feels like I have known you for my whole life. And i think-” she paused, but she shook away the urge to think this through “I love you”. In a matter of seconds, their lips were locked together.

There was no regret shared when they pulled away. “I love you too y/n” he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. He tried not to blink so as to not let them fall but she noticed. She always noticed. She placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb softly. “There is no need to cry. I'm right here and I am not leaving you” she said warmly.

The young king smiled, his lip quivering slightly. He turned away so she could not see him like this, but she used the hand on his cheek to turn his face back to look at her, meeting his tear filled eyes. She wiped his tears with her thumb. “Why are you crying?” she said sweetly. “I just never thought this day would come. Someone with a disease such as mine does not deserve such love and kindness, much less from an angel like you” his voice was shaky. He cursed himself for being so weak in front of her.

But she simply cupped her hands around his face.”You deserve the world Baldwin. You showed me kindness even though I am a prisoner. You have such a beautiful soul and your disease does not define you. Never forget that” her words were so gentle. He wanted to cry in her arms and never leave. It took all of his strength to prevent himself from sobbing. He could barely get a single word out, just nodded his head quickly. Y/n opened her arms, bringing him against her chest.

He could not hold back anymore. He sobbed into her shoulder. Every suppressed emotion he had felt since his life changed forever at the diagnosis came out in that moment.

Y/n laid back on the couch so he could lay down on top of her. He was surprisingly light for his athletic build. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cried into her chest for a long time while y/n rubbed his back, occasionally kissing the top of his head.

Finally, his breathing evened out and his body relaxed. Y/n looked down to see his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Her heart melted at the sight. He had fallen asleep on her chest, it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

No doubt about it, she had a soft spot for him. A soft spot in her heart that she didn't even know existed. But he had crawled inside nonetheless. She leant her head back and grinned, this was the happiest she had felt in her entire life despite the circumstances. She decided at that moment that she could wait no longer. She wanted to marry this man.

She heard his breathing deepen into soft snoring as he fell further into sleep. She wanted to stay awake as long as she could to watch over him. She watched his back rise and fall with each deep, even breath.

Y/n remained awake the entire night just admiring him. She was not even tired by morning. Something about seeing him in such a peaceful rest made her feel more refreshed than any amount of sleep could.

------------------------

It was a week later exactly that Baldwin asked for her hand in marriage. He waited until the perfect moment to ask. They had gone out riding that morning, planning to spend the entire day together. They had stopped to allow their horses to rest for a moment atop a hill when he asked. There was nobody around for miles. Just them. It was perfect. They were married the very same month, and as requested by the king, y/n took comand of the army of Jerusalem. And she went down in history, forever known as The Lady in Armour.

[yuurei20]

Rook Info Compilation part 20: Senses

It is often mentioned that Rook has excellent eyesight, hearing and sense of smell: he says that his eyesight is keen enough that he does not need to rely on tools like binoculars.

We see him read the text of a book from a great distance, recognize Leona from across a field while he himself is inside the school and recognize Ortho flying through the sky in the Wish Upon a Star event.

Vil says that Rook’s eyesight is “absurdly keen” and he even impresses Lilia with how well is he able to see, saying, “I am confident that my eyes are at least as keen as yours.”

Lilia observes that Rook’s hearing is just as good as his eyesight.

Rook says that “a sense of smell is a huntsman’s best friend,” which is why he dislikes scents and does not wear them unless explicitly ordered to by Vil.

When Floyd asks why he does what Vil tells him to Rook explains it is “So that I may stand by his side. He is the fairest in all the school. This is a small price to pay to appreciate his beauty from a place of honor.”

In Rook’s dorm vignette an unknown attacker ruins one of Vil’s Film Club costumes and the members of the club are quick to accuse members of Savanaclaw, as the assailant intentionally slashed the fabric with scissors in a way that was meant to imitate claw marks.

Rook alone deduces that the damage was not done by claws and is able to approximate how tall the attacker may be based on the angle at which they slashed the costume.

Rook successfully identifies the assailant (a member of the Film Club’s own costume department, who framed Savanaclaw in a fit of jealousy over how close Rook and Epel are to Vil), claiming that he realized the destroyed costume was fake based on how poorly it was sewn.

The costumer volunteers to quit the club as punishment for what he did, but Rook insists that he atone for his crimes by continuing to contribute.

Epel compliments Rook on being able to tell that the costume was a fake by looking at it and Rook reveals that that had been a lie: he had been able to tell by the scent. As the fake costume hadn’t smelled of Vil’s unique cologne, he’d known it wasn’t real.

Rook teases Epel about guessing what he had for lunch on scent alone, only to say, “Not even my sense of smell is as keen as that,” revealing it was a joke.

(This line was rewritten on EN into “I am a man, not a bloodhound,” but there is a theory that Rook may not actually be human, and in the original game he has never claimed to be.)

Rook says that he has excellent stamina (which Vil confirms) and he is also able to tell how long he has been asleep within a 10-minute margin of error. (“Learning to assess how long you’ve been aware of your surroundings is essential for any huntsman.”)

Rook is also able to detect when Silver tries to hide himself during Spectral Soiree, despite all the training Silver has received as a guardsman.

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Don't forget, Fandom Trumps Hate bidding opens 8am EST on March 5th! Details of my offerings are here, and a roundup of all the RWRB offers can be found here.

Remember a couple days ago when I said thanks to the people who tagged me in the WIP ask game but my list had just hit 62 and I couldn't be bothered writing them all out? Well, welcome to #62. I watched a film, realised how many fics I've read based on it across a ton of fandoms in the last couple of decades, entered some sort of weird fugue state, and then there was a Google Doc open. As usual.

2019 Outside Kensington Palace, with the car waiting to take him back to the royals’ private airstrip, Alex seriously considers taking Henry’s phone out of his hand and plugging in his phone number. It’s the same tug in his gut that led him across a Buckingham Palace ballroom to poke and prod at Henry’s perfect princely veneer; the one that dragged him across the room to introduce himself at Rio; the one that used to pull him out of his bedroom and into June’s to open a magazine.  But that’s not what’s happening here. They’re not friends, even if Alex did see a glimmer of something resembling a personality while lying elbow to elbow with Henry on the dusty floor of a cupboard. It’s a PR stunt, nothing more, and they both have people who are literally employed to make sure they both come out of this looking good. No point in complicating it. In the end, Alex only reaches out when it’s time to shake Henry’s hand in farewell, and then he climbs into the back of the car and ignores the nagging sensation of something left unfinished. 2029 Alex rolls out the crick in his neck as he steps off the plane in Austin, his shoulders relaxing with every step into the familiar terminal. A couple of months into his second congressional term, he’s only just starting to feel like he really has a handle on the House schedule and the punishing weekly commute back and forth between Texas and DC—but just because he doesn’t have a spouse and kids to come home to like many of his colleagues on the Hill, it doesn’t mean he’s not still spending as much time in his district as he possibly can. Even if it does mean he has an even heavier reliance on caffeine than he did during college and more frequent flyer miles than he’ll ever know what to do with.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[attorneys-against-court-violence]

Taka post because I cannot stop spinning that bird in my brain like a deli chicken. Kept spoilers to a minimum where I could - this list only focuses on Taka with minimal detail elsewhere, though minor spoilers for Case 6-4!

Taka is based on a type of bird in the genus Accipiter. This encompasses 49 species of hawk, but Taka himself is most likely a Eurasian Sparrowhawk or Goshawk due to the franchise originally taking place in Japan (note the similar markings & patterns on their feathers!)

Taka's cry is most similar to a Red-tailed Hawk. You might recognise it's call from film and other popular media! It's iconic screech is often dubbed over a Bald Eagle (which don't sound nearly as hardcore - look them both up if you have the time!)

Takagari - the practice of falconry in Japan - was a popular sport amongst samurai. Simon Blackquill being the "Twisted Samurai" he is, his owning of a hawk only cements the ye-olde samurai vibes.

His localised name, Taka, is literally the Japanese word for hawk.

His original Japanese name, Gin, could either be a play on a Japanese word for a piercing ringing noise or a Japanese word for the metal silver. It's romanised form is also only one letter away from his owner's first name, Jin.

Taka lives in the courthouse according to Simon Blackquill. He appears to make his home in Courtroom No. 4, where every trial Blackquill is present for takes place. The one exception is the second trial in Case 5-4, which takes place in Courtroom No. 5.

Coutroom No. 4 is also the room where Wocky Kitaki's trial was held in Case 4-2. Taka obviously did not make an appearance there, however, implying he either minds his business when Blackquill isn't present or only made a home there when Blackquill returned to prosecute in the following year.

Across all of Dual Destinies, Taka has attacked Apollo Justice, Phineas Filch, Phoenix Wright, Athena Cykes, Aristotle Means, and Bobby Fulbright. He has used the Judge as a perch on multiple occassions.

Taka emotes along with Blackquill in their animations; he's surprised when Blackquill slams the desk with one hand, chuckles to himself when Blackquill laughs, and threatheningly leans towards people he and Blackquill are upset at.

Blackquill shows open affection towards Taka, petting him during trials with a loving expression on his face & stating that Taka is as human in spirit as himself or anyone else.

Case 5-DLC implies that Bobby Fulbright is responsible for caring for Taka while Simon Blackquill is in prison. Blackquill goes so far as to make a phone call to "Fool Bright" to ensure he feeds Taka.

Several lawyer characters have "reading" poses where they hold a sheet of paper in front of themselves. Taka holds Blackquill's papers for him in his "reading" poses due to his shackles limiting what he can do with his arms.

Taka is intelligent enough to purchase items from a store and return them; in Case 6-4, Blackquill gives him money to buy camel buns in order to chase a potential lead during the trial.

Taka has made an appearance in-game in 6 cases; 5-2, 5-3, 5-4, 5-5, 5-DLC, and 6-4. The only trial in Dual Destinies he and his owner are absent from is 5-1. He is never seen during investigation sequences.

An audiodrama set during Dual Destinies confirms that Athena Cykes can hear emotions from Taka's calls, but they are not as clear as human emotions.

The same audio drama demonstrated Taka's intelligence again, with him trying to point the WAA lawyers to a crucial piece of evidence for his master's trial & playing along as "the Plumed Punisher" for a skit they put together to retrieve it.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part eight) 🌹

Part Seven 🌹

Warnings: Parent death, sibling death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. Reader may not be your fav this part. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

The air of the station was stale, as if taking the simplest of breaths would cost a significant amount of energy. It felt as though even the bugs buzzing around in the spring weather were flying in slow motion. Maybe it really was the air, or more likely, the atmosphere of your mind.

You felt nauseous and dizzy at the arguments that split your soul. The tributes were to arrive today, naturally, Jessup with them. Were you here to give the best first impression or to size him up? A part of you wanted to save him from the horrors, but the lately very loud voice has been telling you that he deserved it. Especially a boy from District Twelve, around the age of those who murdered your brother in the dense woods of the small district.

Your long time waiting for the train arrival was spent trying to settle that internal struggle to no avail. You were staring straight ahead onto the empty tracks when something felt different. The peacekeepers were still stoic, tracks still echo-filled at even the slightest noise. But a slight breeze was felt behind you. When you turned around, that breeze of fresh air happened to be a certain blonde with irresistible eyes.

He was in the rouge academy uniform, as were you, and he held a pristine white rose in his hand. He had clearly expected the station to be empty, so the sight of your drained eyes made him suck in a breath.You let out a tired laugh at his appearance.

"So are we allowed to be here, or are we both going to receive whatever nightmare Highbottom has set up for us?"

Coryo walked to stand next to you as he retorted back with a sly grin.

"At least we will go through whatever the punishment is together."

"Ah, yes, nothing shakes the trouble duo!"

He took a sideways glance at you as he started chuckling.

"Trouble duo? That's really the best you thought of? I thought you were the poetic one."

He joked at you as you gasped in mock offense.

"I'm sorry, do you have any better names for us?"

Yes. Yes, he did. But none of them had to do with Highbottom or any mocking moniker. His personal favorite was "couple." The others were a bit ambitious and would be used in the far future, such as President and First Lady. Not a bad ring to it. But he wouldn't voice out his desires, even if he was on his death bed. Especially after what happened in that hallway yesterday.

However, you were too busy observing for the upcoming train to notice Coriolanus's gaze. When you turned around, he didn't shift away his gaze.

But you didn't question it. Maybe because it has become familiar and a comfort these past weeks. You had ammunition of reasons such as his hyperobservation to explain these glances. Not a single one of them hit the real reason.

The blonde was fidgeting with the rose slightly, which made a slight laugh creep past your lips. It took him a second to realize the cause, but when he did, he slightly blushed.

"I would have gotten you one too if-uhm, I knew you would be here."

Your lips curved into a shy grin at his flustered words.

"I'm not the one you need to charm, Coryo; you did that a long time ago."

You noticeably were avoiding his eyes, and he let it be because he was quite sure he was turning as red as his uniform.

"Can I ask why you are here, Coryo?"

He seemed a bit taken aback at your sudden question. Of course, he knew the reason he was there: to win the Plinth Prize. To do that, he needed Lucy Gray's trust, and this was just the way to do it. But he feared his reasoning was a bit too harsh. It was the last days of this girl's life, and he was just seeing her as a means to an end. Coriolanus didn't want you to think of him as heartless or worse, that he would be using your trust as a means to an end as well.

So he simply replied that he wished to gain the odd girl's trust, and this seemed like a good way to get a head start. You nodded along, agreeing that she seemed like the character who wouldn't do anything without trust.

Although, your eyes seemed to darken after his reasoning. He couldn't decipher the look completely, but it was clear guilt was a factor.

"Y/N?"

Your faraway eyes and mind locked into his at hearing his soft voice.

"Why are you here?"

You stared at him, slightly getting lost in the ever-shifting color in his eyes. You looked downwards as you breathed out.

"I don't know. I wish I did. Something told me I should come, see him for myself. Maybe it will help clear my thoughts on everything here. And I know a part of me wishes to find something in him to justify his murder."

You bitterly admitted. You were still glanced down when Coriolanus responded.

"This isn't your fault; you know this, right? You didn't choose him, and you didn't make the games."

He let it sink in for a moment, enough for it to visibly break through your guilt-made walls. Coriolanus waited for you to finally regain the will to look up at him.

"And if anyone has reason for the things you are thinking and feeling, it's you. They still want us dead. The Capitol says the war is over when it's far from done. I mean, come on, these kids are the next generation of rebels. It's either them or us."

His tone started out light and soft but quickly turned to stone. You wanted to argue with him, to shout at the top of your lungs that they are innocent and no part of the massacres you suffered. But how could you? How could you fight your exact sentiments?

You knew he was right, no matter how much it hurt your morals. They were old enough to feel fear. Old enough for that fear to become hate. Hate to violence.

And they were old enough to kill. The minimum age for the Reaping was twelve. You and your classmates had the ability to take a life at half that age.

After that, the long-awaited train began pulling into the station. You've only ever seen a train in person once. When you gave miniature hugs to your uncle Averic and freshly fourteen-year-old Octavious.

You were only five at the time, and the upcoming horror of the Dark Days were still a few months away. There were others there saying their goodbyes, but you weren't focusing on them. Or how they began filtering out as the time for departure came closer. You were still clinging onto your older brother's legs as your mother, aunt Fiora, and uncle Averic seemed to be in serious talks.

"Otto?"

The young boy seemed to be trying to listen in to their conversation, and it took a little slap to his leg to get his attention. When his eyes, which were the same shade of yours, landed on your own, they softened from his prior harden state of focus. He knelt down to your height as he turned all his attention on you.

"Why are you leaving?"

The boy had to take a shaky breath. He had slightly hoped you would just accept your mother's reasoning that he "just had to go." But, of course, you, being too attentive and curious for any kid your age, just couldn't let his absence go. In reality, he didn't have to leave. He had forced himself to be involved. It took every stretch of persuasion to convince his uncle to let him come along to what was being described as "a small rebellion."

He wasn't to do anything but take note and follow his uncle's lead. Otto dreamed that within a year, he would be given his own battalion, and the next, be his own commanding general. It was not extremely unusual for a young man of age sixteen or seventeen to be in command. Averic Emberidge was a living example. And like his maternal uncle, Octavious Vaun had great military promise. He had life promise.

He had promise.

And a promise given to his young sister. That he would come back.

Otto achieved his goals of military prowess. But the young man, no matter how skilled or trusted, broke his promise to the person he loved most.

But back then, the promise was fresh and believed to be easy to keep. The platform was empty save for one family by the time your own was forced to part. Your mother and aunt switched between the two members who would be off in District territory. You stood back and watched the goodbyes as a man approached.

He was tall, broad, and commanded the air of the room. As if even the rules of the universe had to bend to his will. He had two children and an older woman trailing behind him. All four had bright and magnetic blue eyes.

The Snows were not easy to miss, not even miles away, as though their powerful aura was felt in all areas of proximity.

He stopped right in front of your mother, who stood in a deep green fashioned vintage day dress. The beautiful woman still looked forward, slightly past her brother's shoulder.

"Cloria. Fiora."

He gave a nod after each name. The former turned to him with those still captivating eyes. The latter rolled her own pair at his presence. He acknowledged your uncle and brother as well, but they would have time for conversation later. They were all to be on campaign together after all.

Crassus and Cloria broke away for a very brief discussion while you still stood a bit away from the group. Your uncle noticed you and your lack of an official goodbye and smiled in invitation. You sprinted into his now-open arms as he spun you around, much to your oblivious enjoyment. When he set you down and grabbed your arms to make you focus on him, his prior smile dissolved into a grave thin line.

"Hey, kid."

Uncle Averic's voice wasn't the joyful one you were used to. You knew then that you needed to listen up and closely.

"I know you are a tough little girl. I saw how you beat up your brother, after all."

You smiled proudly while the aforementioned beaten boy scoffed. He was referring to the past few weeks in which Otto taught you how to fight. It was safe to say he wasn't expecting your level of skill and dedication. The fourteen-year-old just wanted you to have basic defense skills, but your speed of skill accelerated the lessons considerably.

"But y/n, things are going to be a little different now. I need you to watch out for your mom and aunt Fi, okay? I know Rhayen will be there, but you are responsible too. You are smart and strong, kid, just don't be reckless. Your mom doesn't need any more stress."

Your uncle struck his hand out, and you shook it in agreement. It didn't hit your young mind all that you would have to endure to keep this agreement.

Your mother and Crassus seemed to be finishing up talks, so you turned to Otto, who seemed to be holding back tears as the gravity of the situation hit him.

"Hey."

His still-changing voice broke. He scooped you up in his arms as he stared down at you.

"I will write all I can back home, and I'll make special letters just for you, okay? I'll draw out the words for you."

You could read, and at a very accelerated level for a girl your age, but Otto was already missing the days where you would draw out what you were feeling in situations you couldn't speak out loud.

"No! I want words, I can read Otto! I want hard words too!"

He laughed at your little pout of demand. Your determination to push yourself even in that small way was one of the many ways you motivated him throughout the war. Otto knew you were waiting for him, so he rushed to come back. But even his speed could not make him outrun fate.

Your mother had come back and had taken you - begrudgingly - out of her oldest child's arms. You watched them board the train and watched the adults' reactions. Each had a different expression.

The older woman who was with General Snow, who you would eventually call Grandma'am along with her grandchildren, looked proud; she looked overconfident and a bit arrogant. Fiora was on the brink of biting her finger off as she bit nervously at her nails.

And your mother. Her eyes were scanning the train, but they saw two worlds. One where the three men would come back, unscathed and victorious. The other was grim and the unfortunate reality of only the news of their death coming back.

You remember as you scanned the faces, all which were focused on the now-departing train, one was staring back at you. Even all those years ago, Coriolanus was always a face of comfort and reliability. Across the platform, you two bore into the soul of the other, trying to make sense of any of the chaos around them. Your family began walking towards the west exit while his the east.

The distance grew and grew, but so did the intensity of your connected gaze. Neither seemed to want to let go. As if you both knew this would be your last look for three years. The last look as unscathed children.

But those children grew up. And you were back on a train platform with those ever-searching blue eyes. Though, no longer did he search for sense or his father, but now for his ticket out of poverty. A ticket in the form of a fascinating brunette.

He walked towards the now-opening doors of the cattle train. The smell was foul, but you followed him. Some tributes got out, either by their own or forced out. A bat also flew out which you noted. The tributes looked at the Capitol duo with a range from curiosity to murderous intentions. You went down the near entirety of the vehicle the two from District Twelve appeared. Jessup got down first and helped Lucy Gray down by her waist.

You and Coryo sucked in a collective breath. Any last-minute nerves had to silence themselves because it was far too late now to back out.

Jessup immediately noticed you both and sent a glare. He stepped closer to Lucy Gray in protection while she was busy taking in her surroundings. The movement of Jessup and his noticeable stare past her made the girl turn.

She was quite beautiful; the screens didn't do her justice. She had coffee brown eyes, matching colored hair, and clear, tanned skin. But it was her expression that added to her beauty. She was clearly suspicious, to which no one could blame her, but as she raked over both you and Coriolanus's forms, she had a slight grin of curiosity.

It was quite a contrast to her fellow tribute, Jessup. His eyes were sharp, and he was clearly displeased at your presence.

But you cleared your throat anyway, although Coryo beat you to speaking.

"Welcome to the Capitol."

He held out the rose for the girl, who took a long good look at it before taking it.

"We are your mentors. It's nice to meet you both."

You said sweetly and had a small smile to which the girl returned but fell flat on Jessup. You put your hand out to Jessup, but not surprisingly, he left you hanging. You gulped down your embarrassment and bit your lip, signs of uncomfort ot unnoticed by Coryo. Lucy Gray looked you both up and down as she sized you up.

"When I was little, my mama used to bathe me in buttermilk and rose petals."

She took a petal off and stuck it right in her mouth. She gave it a good taste followed by a smile.

"Tastes like bedtime."

You turned to Coriolanus, who was still wide-eyed at his tribute's actions. You didn't know exactly what to expect when you came here, but it surely wasn't this.

"So what do our mentors do?"

It seemed like Lucy Gray was going to do all the talking as her friend stayed stone-faced besides her.

"We do our best to take care of you. Lucy Gray, Coriolanus is your mentor while Jessup, you are stuck with me."

Lucy Gray nodded along and examined her mentor once again. Jessup examined you as well but not in the pondering way his companion was. Rather, he looked like he was thinking venomous thoughts of you and as if your being was yet another punishment he had to endure.

Any further conversation was interrupted by several peacekeepers motioning for the two from twelve to get moving. Lucy Gray looked over her shoulder and wished you both luck on that front while she was being pushed towards a small vehicle along with the rest of the tributes.

Coriolanus already began asking the silent peacekeepers if we can escort them, but none were willing to answer. You followed him aimlessly, ready to start your exit and walk to the Academy. You both still had classes today, even though they were modified to center around your mentorship. But Snow wasn't willing to give up.

When a tall and lanky boy tried to make a run for it and distracted the peacekeepers, a certain look overtook Coriolanus. Everything seemed to be blocked out, just him and the door to the truck. You had a feeling what he was going to do and cursed him once you saw his legs start pumping.

I hate you so much, you idiot Coriolanus Snow.

Your chant of dislike was all you could think of as only a split second after him, you followed him into the abyss of the vehicle that held twenty-three (Wovey yet a year away) teenagers who wanted you both dead. A desire they might just get once the doors shut, trapping you in.

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As soon as Coriolanus landed on the truck, he went directly towards the back. Your legs weren't as tall as his, so it took enough effort from you to get on the truck that you fell onto the floor. That was when Coryo noticed you had joined him. His eyes widened in fright, and he moved to pick you up when another tribute shoved him against the back wall. He let out a painful groan as he tried to charm his way out of the situation.

The tribute holding onto him was even taller and considerably broader than the blonde boy.

"I'll kill you right now."

He snarled at Coriolanus and was backed up by a sick girl.

"He killed a peacekeeper back in eleven."

You learned that the peacekeeper killer was named Reaper, and the ill-looking girl was named Dill.

The threat on Coriolanus's life made you get up in a second and get ready to stop any further action. But as soon as you landed on your feet, your position mimicked Coriolanus's as you were being shoved by Coral, the girl from four. You knew she was Festus's assigned tribute and she seemed like a clear delight with her wicked smile.

"I call dibs on killing her."

Her breath, with the scent of fish still lingering, fanned all over your face. But unlike Coriolanus, your face didn't show any fear or desperation. You held her gaze with a glare of your own. You've fought off a lot more menacing figures than her.

While you had no fear, Coriolanus was taken over with terror.

"Don't you touch her!"

He made a move against Reaper, who shoved him back even harder against the wall. His struggle made the red head girl holding you laugh.

"Aw, how cute. Your boyfriend tryin to help you, princess."

Your hostile glare deepened at that. She had so much confidence in her ability and power over you. And while she was much stronger than you, she was sloppy. She didn't even hold back your hands or disarm your legs. You could easily throw her off if she made a move.

Lucy Gray watched the events unfold and glanced at Jessup who seemed okay with letting their mentors suffer fates similar to their inevitable ones. She didn't like not doing anything to help them. They were supposed to help her and Jessup, right? They would be at a clear disadvantage if something happened to them.

Plus, you and Coriolanus were interesting; nothing like what she imagined Capitol kids to be like.

As the rest of the group agreed on the murder of the academy students, Lucy Gray piped up.

"Y’all got family back home? They’ll kill them if you hurt them. Then you."

She made sure her message was clear. The thought of their families being hurt made them pause, as well as the instant death. In the Hunger Games, they at least had a shot at living. Reaper loosened his grip, and she continued.

"Besides, he’s my mentor. I might need his help."

She nodded her head towards the disgruntled mentor. She didn't mention who you were mentoring because she hoped Jessup would speak up. She knew Jessup didn't necessarily care for you, but he knew you might be some sort of help. The dark-skinned boy didn't get to speak up before Coral, however.

"And you a mender, princess?"

She shoved you again, which made Coriolanus flinch, but Lucy Gray motioned with her eyes for him to stay in place. His involvement would only make things worse.

"Better hope I'm not yours."

She didn't like your answer if her teeth-bearing snarl had anything to say about it. Something about it fueled your fury.

"Do you know why they call it the Hunger Games?"

You beckoned her with a slight smirk that angered the aggressive girl across from you.

"I'll still kill you."

She threatened you as she didn't know where you were going with this. The unknown was a disadvantage to her and fueled her fear.

You asked again, and the sweet-hearted Wovey answered instead.

"Because there is no food."

She answered confidently and in that sweet voice, which felt so wrong in this environment. You didn't want to go ahead with your plan of words, but when Coral turned back from looking at the little girl to you, the fire was back.

You stared straight into the angry eyes of Coral with a menacing smile.

"Oh no, there is plenty of food. I mean, look around. I see twenty-six bodies of food."

You could feel the girl's arms shudder, and you saw the rest of the faces go pale. But you weren't done.

"Hunger stands for the hunger in one's eyes. Once that bell rings, that hunger takes over. Hunger for blood, corpses. For survival and victory. And if you lose focus for just a second-"

You made quick work as you shoved Coral's arms off of you and placed them behind her back. You have now reversed places as she struggled against the wall and beneath your far more forceful and effective hold. Attention was still hooked onto as you finished your lesson.

"You're dead."

Your quick move shocked the entirety of the truck, including Coryo. He knew you could fight back from your younger days by the pestering of Festus, in which you gave him a solid black eye for days. Yet, he didn't know just how good you were, much of it still from your brother's teachings and occasional lessons from Rhayen.

You were ready to let the girl, who still wore her scowl but couldn't hide the fear behind her eyes, go. Although, you bent closely in front of her face to let her know your last message.

"You better thank your lucky stars I'm not in that arena with you. I already won my games."

You hissed out the now positively infuriated teenager. The other tributes ranged from absolute horror of you to confusion on your last statement and how you were so cutthroat. No one expected children of the Capitol to have this in them.

The entirety of the truck's eyes were on you, except Lucy Gray. She looked to Coriolanus to examine his expression. She wanted to know if this was all a front or your sweet nature on the station was. The best way would be to see what the boy, who clearly knew you, thought of the situation. His face was not expressing fear or confusion like the others, but rather a sad look of understanding.

All of the Capitol struggled most definitely during the Dark Days and still with its legacy and effect. But you were one of the few to suffer nearly all the horrors it brought during the war and the only one who still lost after it. The rest of your classmates seemed to move past the traumas, but not you. Maybe it was because of your mother, but it always seemed to play out on repeat behind your still-shining eyes.

Lucy Gray's eyes bounced from Coriolanus's face to yours again. She seemed satisfied and understood. You weren't bluffing. Though, as she looked again at you, she saw your eyes soften. You realized all you had done and said. You had felt threatened, and it had just become instinct to take control of a threatening situation. It hit you that you just became Coral. It was clear she was scared of being here, and her menacing demeanor was a defensive mechanism. And your haunting words were yours.

Lucy Gray took note. Maybe she and Jessup could trust you. But all of a sudden, the truck began shaking harshly and began tipping as the doors opened into the bright light. It shocked you, and due to being closer to the door, you were one of the few to fall. You fell silently but locked eyes with Coriolanus as you did, which was enough for him to let go as well. He was already slipping anyway as Lucy Gray hung onto him, and the truck began tipping.

The mentor was able to land without a scratch and checked on Lucy Gray, who was the same. She looked to her friend, who dusted himself off from where he landed a few meters away from her. Coriolanus watched her make it to Jessup when he began frantically looking for you.

You were more in the middle of the area, which he soon realized was the Capitol zoo. He scoffed at the insult to the districts as he rushed to your side. However, you weren't as lucky as those in the back. You had landed face first into some rocks, which busted a nasty cut above your eye. You had swatted away Coryo's helping hands and slipped off your academy blazer to dab at the blood.

"Huh, look at this. Capitol bleeds."

Your head snapped up to meet the mocking Coral. Coryo looked as if he was going to pounce on her, but you pulled his arm back. He helped you up as you looked past his shoulder.

"What in the world is the weather guy doing here?"

The quite loud presentation voice of the notorious Lucky Flickerman was heard as he tried to get your and Coriolanus's attention.

Lucy Gray and Jessup had moved towards you two while Coral walked off. When Coriolanus heard that he was live for all of the Capitol, he began to panic. His breath became rapid and shallow. You were quick to grab his cheeks to make him look down to you.

"Coryo. Look at me. It's nothing you haven't done before. I'm here with you, okay?"

You waited for his nod to smile back at him, which calmed his nerves considerably. Your tributes watched on, slightly amused. Lucy Gray felt charmed by your clear looks of affection, although it hurt her due to her own recent love troubles. Jessup felt amused that the girl who was just threatening Coral was so taken by a skinny, lanky, and pale boy such as Coriolanus.

You both turned to the other half of your makeshift group.

"Lucy Gray Baird, Jessup Diggs, let us introduce you to our neighbors."

You beckoned them forward, while you opened your hand for Lucy Gray, who took it with an amused tilt of her head. Jessup and Coriolanus shared a look, in which the latter looked at the former's hand and was swiftly met with a clear "no" at the thought of the two mirroring your actions.

When you reached the edge of the cage, you noticed two small children. Coriolanus moved to the other side of Lucy Gray while Jessup moved to you, still a bit back. However, your attention is quickly taken by the questions of Lucky Flickerman.

"Who are you two? What are you doing in the cage here?"

Coriolanus responds and explains the situation to Lucky while you and Lucy Gray focus on the children in front of you.

They seem very taken by Lucy Gray, and she is quite the charmer. She captures the attention of all around with her honey-like voice and witty answers. Soon enough, Lucky focuses on her, eager to learn all about the strange girl. She explains the Covey and the importance of her beautiful dress.

"This dress was my mama’s so it’s extra special to me."

You glanced at her with a shared sympathy as she informed the ignorant host of her mother's passing. She felt your stare shift and turned to you as you gave her the slightest of nods. You didn't know if she understood its meaning, but her knowing eyes crinkled with a smile that let you know your message was well received.

Lucy Gray had a good feeling she could trust you. Maybe if she somehow won, you two could be good friends. She was a charmer and well-liked in twelve, but she didn't really have friends besides the Covey; who were more family than friends.

"Do you know the wonderful mentors for me and Jessup? Seems we got the cream of the cake 'cause no one else even bothered to show up."

You took a gulp and forced a smile as the camera visibly moved to focus on you.

"Well, we've met Coriolanus Snow, yes?"

Flickerman paused to ensure he got the blonde's name right and was met with a nod.

"And who are you, young lady? And did you get that nasty cut from the other tributes when you jumped in the cage? Were you told to jump in?"

His questions flew a million miles a minute, but you responded with grace.

"Hello there. My name is Y/N Vaun and oh no, I fear I am quite clumsy."

You covered up the fact that you might have had your neck slit if not for Lucy Gray.

"And the game makers didn't tell us that we couldn't. They just said that it was a mentor’s job to introduce our tributes to the citizens of Panem. And we thought, well, if they were brave enough to be here, then why shouldn’t we be, too?"

You looked up to Coriolanus to assure your answer was sufficient enough, to which he agreed. Lucy Gray did have one adjustment though.

"For the record, I didn’t have a choice."

Which you couldn't help but tilt your head to the side in agreement to her statement while Flickerman opened up again.

"For the record, I think you both are about to be whisked away."

Suddenly, two strong peacekeepers began dragging you away with Coriolanus. You fought them off to freely walk on your own as you noticed Lucy Gray stop him and whisper urgently, to which he agreed.

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The walk to the academy wasn't too far, but your pace was set quite fast. You and Coryo were already going to attract a lot of attention; missing class for an assumed press event with the tributes was a big no. Your dash to the prestigious institution was a silent conversation between you and Coryo. There didn't feel like much to say as you both were too far in your heads.

Coriolanus turned to you slightly as the question that's been burning in his mind came out.

"Why did you jump in the truck with me?"

You didn't even hesitate as you answered him, still looking forward.

"Are you seriously asking me that, Coryo?"

When you were met with nothing but silence, you turned to him.

"You jump, I jump. You throw yourself in a cage filled with people who want to gut you? Expect to have a friend with you. Maybe it will make you think before you do something stupid next time."

Your answer and vow of companionship caused a satisfied smile to overtake the handsome boy's features. It stayed there for some time before your now dark voice piped up.

"Do you remember the station?"

Your sudden question broke the prior silence. The fair-skinned teen looked at you in question.

"The station we were just at?"

He felt as if he missed something. The thought of being out of the loop unnerved him. You motioned that the recent setting wasn't the point of your question as you elaborated.

"No, I meant right back when the rebellion started. That day when they shipped off."

The heir of Snow's face scrunched up as he thought of the memory; one of his first clear ones. Young Coryo was so confused with all happening around him. Crassus rarely acknowledged the five-year-old's confusion while grandma'am kept on repeating curses about the rebelling districts. Though, as always, Tigris tried to calm down and help her little cousin. She wasn't that much older but she was old enough to understand; her uncle, the sole provider of their family, was to be off across the country. It worried her beyond what her youthful face would show. A face constantly lit up with the warm smiles her young cousin elicited.

But there were moments, although few, where Tigris's attention was elsewhere besides Coryo. One of them being on that now demolished train station, where she watched Crassus Snow depart from the Capital and eventually, their lives. It was in that moment where Coriolanus didn't look to his cousin for comfort but rather the girl with curious and wandering eyes. He had seen you before, but that was the day you truly entered his life. The young man laughed sweetly at the memory.

"You refused to look away even as we were being pulled away."

"Hey, you didn't look away either!"

You retorted back to the reminiscing adolescent. His eyes were still glued forward as you neared your destination. Out of his peripheral vision, however, he noticed a solemn demeanor took you over.

"Funny how different my only two train experiences are."

You laughed without humor, a grim noise.

"The first time, I had the privilege of ignorance. Hands were clean. And the people. Nearly every person I loved in one place. Fast forward today. I'm all too aware of the blood dripping from my hands, and I keep on making it gush."

You paused to take a bitter breath while refocusing your eyes straight ahead. You both were nearly to the entrance of the academy campus.

"Not a single one of them made it out alive. The only one was you."

The boy in mention furrowed his brows at your statement. It didn't strike him until now that you were right. Every member of your family on the platform that fateful day is six feet under. And by the way you spoke, so was little five-year-old you. The thought of your absent family made him reflect. His life wasn't easy in the slightest, but he did have his loved ones, no matter how little the number was. Sure, his grandma'am was a bit eccentric and not whole in the head, but she was a reminder of the glory indebted to the Snows. She was, most of the time, a sweet grandmother and a constant pillar of support.

And of course, Tigris. His life was mostly filled with darkness, metaphorically and literally with the high cost of electricity. But Tigris was always a light shining bright. Guiding him when he was lost in the slightest bit. He left that station with nearly the same family he has today, excluding his cold father. And even though his absence was a painful reminder of their living situation, Tigris often reminded Coryo that was given a chance to be a better person without his father's controlling and cold nature. A chance she tried to make possible at every possible moment.

But you didn't have a single member of your beloved family anymore. It was true your father was alive, but Coriolanus knows he has all but officially stepped out of your life. A move that made the young man resent and hold a place of disrespect in regards to your father. Your feet had carried you through the vast academy doors and down the hallways leading to the class you should have been in half an hour ago.

It was when you were mere feet from the door when a realization hit him. You said everyone you loved was on that platform and he was the only one to live. wait. did you just- does that mean-

"Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun. Chief amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

You had entered the domed classroom, and Coriolanus couldn't further question your prior statements. You had ascended up the stairs with Coryo following close behind. You turned to question Dean Highbottom, who didn't even look up at your presence.

"Neither of us forced the other to go. We went on our own accord."

You responded back to the dean still focused on his papers.

"I don't care how or why it happened. You both put yourselves in danger regardless. I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentors immediately."

You scoffed at his actions in disgust. He really jumped at any chance to make Coriolanus suffer. Highbottom has now become a plague you now have to deal with as well. Young Snow didn't appreciate his operation against him and you as he questioned his validity.

"You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away."

"I’ll add insubordination as well."

Coriolanus opened his mouth to retort back when he was cut off by a chilling voice.

"Snow and Vaun fell down in the cage."

The ever-infamous Volumina Gaul appeared with a devilish smile playing on her bright red lips. She crept closer as she continued.

"Snow fell down in the cage but it landed…"

Her riddle was quickly figured out by the pair who answered at the same time.

"On stage."

The quick and correct reply made her wicked smile grow impossibly more.

"You’re good at Games. Maybe one day, you two will be Gamemakers like me. You are quite the pair."

The decrepit Casca Highbottom turned to watch the interaction and grumbled at the head Gamemaker's implication.

"If the Games continue at all."

"Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun's in that zoo."

The eccentric woman made her way to the end of your row as she questioned.

"Which one of you had the idea to jump in the cage with the tributes?"

You and Coriolanus knew neither of you had an idea that you would end up there. That doesn't mean the brave (and stupid) idea to jump in the truck came from nowhere.

"Coriolanus was the one."

You were quick to respond that the boy couldn't cut you off to mention your own involvement. That doesn't mean he didn't have his own speed in answering.

"Y/N was the one who fended them off, though. She also was the one who thought of presenting Lucy Gray after gaining her trust."

To say Dr. Gaul’s already peaked interest didn't skyrocket would be an understatement. She remembered her surprise, an emotion that appears very little in the woman's life, at seeing the two academy students in the zoo. Their elegance and charisma in their performance were extraordinary. And to see how fast they are to jump to the other's defense and bolster made the peculiar woman ache for more. She may have found not only one but two promising students.

"Holding her hand, Y/N? Introducing her to people? You make it look as if we’re one and the same as those animals."

The disgust was clear in Clemensia's voice as she spoke. She was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt when it came to Sejanus, who lived most of his life in the Capital after all. But straight district? That was a whole different level of abhorrence.

Said district - not district boy had his own opinions to voice.

"Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us."

He paused to let the idea sink in for the snobby children of the Capital. You and Coriolanus were not surprised at his little outburst, but that doesn't mean you were happy with it. You were very far from it. Sick and tired of constantly hearing the saintly nature of those in the districts. But the curly-haired boy continued.

"That’s why nobody wants to watch the Games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war 10 years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights."

You stayed silent as your nostrils flared, and your teeth ground against each other. You weren't sure where all this anger came from, but you assumed part of it was all your memories of the war becoming so clear lately. The constant yapping of Sejanus that they are oh so innocent while you remember otherwise did not help the blood boiling. Your symptoms of rage did not go unnoticed by Dr. Gaul.

"And what do you think, Miss Vaun? Are the inhabitants of the districts human or animal?"

The entirety of the class focused on you as you took a second to compose yourself. You took a deep breath, and instead of looking at the woman who proposed the question, you locked eyes with Dean Highbottom.

"They are obviously humans."

The man's eyes seemed to have an odd look of relief at your response, but you weren't finished. Your eyes didn't blink nor flinch as you bore into the older man's eyes. "

Animals are incapable of reaching a man's level of sinister."

The recipient of your gaze flinched at your tone and words. It felt as if you stabbed a blade straight into his already shattered conscience. However, your answer sparked new levels of interest within Dr. Gaul. You seem to be more of a promise than you initially let on. Sejanus was far from impressed by your answer. You never spoke out against the districts before; what caused you to now?

"Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended. The oldest of them were only eight! They didn’t have enough to become sinister."

His tone implied the thought that your description of the districts' "humanity" was ridiculous. The people outside of the Capital were good. Far better than those within it, clearly. But Sejanus's blind opinion of them brought you to new levels of anger. You scoffed out a breath of pure disbelief as you turned to stare straight into the brown eyes of the boy.

"Too young? Eight is quite old enough to do sinister things. Look around, Sejanus. You think any of us, who, by the way, were those eight years old, survived by playing with our dolls?"

You paused, trying to compose yourself, while all pairs of eyes were on you. Well, all except Sejanus. You two have never had a quarrel. If there was anyone who the rest were certain would back up Sejanus, it would be you. But here you were, spitting words of venom and unfortunate truth.

"Death doesn't discriminate by age. War doesn't discriminate by age. Each and every one of us here had to become soldiers and survivors by age five." You paused, "Does that sound like humanity? Like the pure good you preach about the districts? They are just like us. Whether or not you want to see it. You claim us evil and we might be. But tell me who do you think caused us to be so harsh? If we were able to kill at six years old, I am quite sure those sixteen-year-olds wouldn't bat an eye. If you don't believe me, let me ask Otto."

The mention of your brother caused the already dead silent classroom to stiffen. Even Highbottom, who disliked yet another reminder of Cloria Vaun (or Emberidge, depends on what memories), had to throw back another shot of morphling. Sejanus was already uncomfortable with your sudden shift in demeanor and your public argument. His discomfort increased when you began using the words "we" and "us," but the mention of Octavius Vaun made him freeze. You rarely mentioned him and if you ever did, you couldn't bring yourself to say his name. You never gave the full details of his death, but you told him enough to know it was a subject never to be brought up. Now that you did, he, along with the rest of your class, knew you weren't going to be able to be controlled.

And you weren't. You didn't let up your hold on attention for a good while as you kept going.

"Hmm? Or how about we ask all of our classmates that should be here? All those people who should be our friends, lovers, siblings? What about those infants who died before they could take a breath because their mothers died of starvation? Let's go ask their corpses, huh! Oh wait, right. Just go around and ask the Capitol population. We didn't have a body clean-up system back in the war. What do you think we did with the bodies?"

The slow realization and remembrance of whispers of the war crept back to Sejanus's mind. Your voice was steady as you continued.

"We had to get whatever nutrition we could, no matter where it came from."

Clemensia had turned deep shades of green at the mention. At the memories.

"Y/N, please stop."

Her wobbly voice and discomfort did the exact opposite of her pleas. You took a look around the classroom to see your peers avoiding eye contact with you and looking one step away from barfing. The sight made you laugh in dark hysteria as you now addressed the room.

"Really?! That's all it took? Ten years? Ten years and you forgot everything! Now that you don't have to throw the last words of your loved ones in a fire to keep warm! These pristine uniforms and marble classrooms enough?! You forget when you had to survive for weeks off of a single rat carcass? When you had to fight deranged old men for a half-empty bag of moldy peaches for your entire family? When your only drink was your own blood? No memories!? No memories of the insanity causing people flinging themselves off of rooftops and others beating the vultures to cut up their corpses!"

Your voice was in a full, rage-fueled yell by the time you finished. You would have continued if a hand on your shoulder didn't signal to stop. You looked up, ready to fight whoever it was, until you realized it was Coryo. You expected him to be embarrassed of you, maybe angry. But he wasn't. His eyes seemed to be glowing with understanding and a shared irritation. After a minute of you calming down, a voice perked all too happily.

"My, my, what a declaration!"

Dr. Gaul was all too eager at your fury. Her blood was on fire with excitement at your sentiments. The question she initially came here to ask you and Coriolanus was finally ready to be asked.

"What are the Hunger Games for?"

The woman looked between you and Coriolanus, eager for an answer to which the latter responded.

"They’re to punish the districts for their uprising, to commemorate the end of the war."

Her smile was gone at the disappointing answer.

“Commemorate the… Dull, dull, dull. Punishment can take myriad forms. Why not drop bombs, cancel food shipments, stage executions? Why Games?"

Her question was not met by either of the two students she wished but rather the clear sympathizer in the form of Sejanus Plinth.

"Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place?"

"You have a problem with my Games?"

Any answer was intercepted by Dean Highbottom who has more than enough of this discussion and development.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the Game’s time has passed."

It was then when you regained your voice.

"It clearly hasn't. The Games, whatever their ultimate purpose, is a reminder. To the districts, most definitely, but also the Capital. It is clear that most here wish to forget and hide away the horrors we've endured. Forget all you wish, but the districts won't. They have to suffer what we did and we have to remember why."

Dr. Gaul was taking in your answer. And it clearly pleased her, whether that be a good or bad thing. That curiosity and thrill continued as Coriolanus added in some suggestions.

"Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings. I mean, you saw those kids in the zoo; they just… they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games. To make the stakes personal."

As your apparent partner continued, the gears in your mind started turning.

"Who will watch the Games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Arachne questioned. And you were the one to answer.

"Everyone."

When you answered, Coriolanus looked to you with a ghost of a smile on his lips as you understood.

"You wanted them to be spectacles? What's better than letting them share their characters? Their lives, dreams, regrets. Biggest loves and losses. If you want people to watch, they will when they have people to root for and against."

Young Snow was quick to pick up after you.

"And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets. The winner of the arena may not be the same as the winner of the people."

You jumped back into the conversation with a slightly more chipper tone.

"Give them interviews to learn who they are. Maybe we can even do skill tests. If you use Coriolanus's betting system, it can give even the weakest of tributes more of a chance. People would not only be able to bet on who they like the most but who has more of a chance. Not to mention they would have the power to change those odds."

Dr. Gaul was at all-time levels of elation at the pair. She knows promise when she sees it.

"I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun. "

You turned to look at said Mr. Snow when a certain raven-haired girl stood up from her seat next to him.

"Wait. You mean you might actually use their ideas?"

Clemensia thought her two high-achieving friends' ideas would just be left floating and not actually implemented in one of the most important events of the country.

"If it’ll help the ratings, why not."

Dr. Gaul’s words made the realization hit you like that cursed cattle train. Your ideas were shared in a slight haze of excitement and lingering fury. If your suggestions really were implemented, you may have just subjected generations of children to death.

Your revelation was clear on your face as Sejanus looked up to who he called his closest friend. He felt slightly betrayed by your outburst, but more so confused. Though, his anger and confusion dissipated a good amount when he saw the horror of realization upon your face.

On the other side of the star pupils, Clemmie slightly shuddered as the outlandish Gamemaker turned her cold gaze upon her. The young woman put on her charming smile as she tried to weasel her way into success.

"Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul. We do all of our assignments together."

You shared eye contact with the girl's partner who seemed to be just as skeptical as you. You turned in Dr. Gaul's direction, which also happened to be Sejanus's. You looked down and saw his face look glossy and hurt. A pain that transferred over to you at the sight. But that would be for a later time. For now, you looked up and informed the Gamemaker that you would be doing your proposals on your own.

The classroom was filled with the manic laughter of the woman. Doubt started filling up your veins at working with the prominent figure. Her bright teeth shone bright as her diabolical smile grew.

"It’ll be an interesting test."

A test of intellect, character, and survival indeed.

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You and Coriolanus sat at a small table on the edge of the cafeteria. You wished to be nowhere near the prying eyes and gossiping mouths of your peers. But apparently, Lucy Gray asked for food, and you couldn't let her or Jessup go hungry. Yet, you were now an active hand in their death.

That ever so active voice in your head kept on screaming against your heart. Your napkin was full of the food that used to reside on your plate, and now you were just waiting for Coryo, who came in a bit later than you. He was fast and smooth in his movements and was barely deterred from his actions when a voice rounded your table.

"You trying to fatten those kids up so you can finally start taking bets? Make sure they look lively enough to make good interviews?"

Sejanus spewed his remarks as he sat down on a chair at the head of the table. You glanced down in shame, but the words didn't bother Coriolanus.

"You think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it? How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?"

You looked between the two. Sejanus seemed to concede at that point while Coryo kept on stuffing the napkin. The brown-eyed boy's voice seemed to soften in pain.

"He was my classmate. Back in two."

You sucked in a sharp breath. It was already hard enough for him to be a part of the game, especially being given a tribute from his home district. But his own classmate? If you were Marcus, you wouldn't spare Sejanus a glance or a word. And that was the worst part. Sejanus would try to help in any way he could, but the situation he was in, "the lucky one," wouldn't make it very easy to gain the trust of his former classmate. Coryo stopped his movements to look at the only boy he could call a solid friend.

"It’s not your fault it’s him."

You both knew that it would still sit on his conscience, no matter if he really was to blame or not. His scoff said it all.

"See, I know. I’m so blameless, I’m choking on it. My father bought him for me, you know, at the Reaping, just so he could show me that I could never go back to two."

You couldn't believe it. It was common information to you how much Starbo tried to change his son. That doesn't mean you expected him to go to such lengths.

"Maybe you could use that to your advantage."

Sejanus whipped his head to you as he squinted at you. The girl in front of him wasn't the same angry one in the classroom. No, this was the same one who he called his best friend for years, yet it just confused him even more as to why you would suggest that. You were quick to elaborate when it seemed that neither boy caught on.

"You want the Hunger Games to end, right? You can do something about it. No real change will happen unless it happens in the Capital. You are one of the few who can actually do something and one of the even fewer who wants to."

Sejanus seemed to be contemplating your words when Coriolanus added on.

"The best way to change it is to be subtle. Small little changes and actions cause enough damage over time."

Sejanus looked down at his two friends' laps and looked back up with a smirk starting to form.

"Like napkins of food. Make them strong enough to be remembered. Quite the rebels."

His smirk seemed to be contagious as it spread to Coryo. You had a smile as well that only grew as Coriolanus spoke again.

"Oh yeah. I’m bad news."

His eyes were on you the entire time as a blush crept on you. Your teeth couldn't help but show as the three of you got up and started your walk to the Capital Zoo.

Like your morning walk with Coriolanus, this walk was short but a bit more cheery as your little friend group conversed. You feared Sejanus would hold your prior actions against you, but he understood, as always. Well, that and Coryo's explanation on how you both expanded the odds for the weaker tributes instead of making it worse.

You and Coriolanus were recalling the earlier events of the morning that didn't appear on live television.

"Wait wait, you did what to her?"

You were holding back a laugh as Snow described how you switched up Coral and the overdramatization of it.

"Okay, first of all, I did not knock the life out of her. And she was getting on my nerves. Like if you are gonna threaten someone, at least do it right!"

The two boys shared a look and laughed a bit at you. A laugh that was swiftly met with a glare.

"Wanna see me execute my threat, Plinth?"

He was quickly grabbed by his sleeve by Coryo to ensure his friend's safety. You turned forward with a smug smile at their fear while they walked a good meter away from you. Soon enough, however, your little moment was met a swift end as you reached the zoo.

There were far more visitors than this morning, but many seemed to be a ways away; the tributes being watched from afar. You and Coryo spotted your two tributes on the far left side of the area, laying their backs on a large rock. Marcus was on the other side, so your trio split as Sejanus tried so hard to get him to take the food from his hands. A task that was unsuccessful.

You got closer and saw Lucy Gray smile at Coryo and the food he carried and promised he kept. She noticed the napkin of food in your hands as well, making her smile grow.

The singer walked to the bars while Jessup stood behind, still pensive at your presence.

"Is that for us?"

She took the two napkins out of the Capital students' hands, handing one of them to her friend. He didn't even give the food a glance as he bore into your eyes, displeasure evident.

"I’m not hungry."

You had a polite smile prior, hoping to get off on a better start this time. But his refusal made it slightly deplete. You understood why. You and the rest of the Capital students here, which now included Arachne, must have seemed like a cruel joke life played on him. You were willing to walk away, maybe try to focus on helping Coriolanus with Lucy Gray if Jessup refused you.

But Lucy Gray refused the boy who protected her to go hungry. She pushed the food into his hands like a mother would to her child.

"You think I can’t hear your stomach growling, Jessup Diggs?"

He looked between the food, his friend, and you a good number of times before he surrendered to his growling stomach.

Satisfied, Lucy Gray turned back to Coriolanus and seemed to settle in across from him. You doubted Jessup recreate the friendly posture, but you sat down a bit further down from Coryo. She wasn't much further from Arachne, who seemed to be playing a torturous game with her tribute, Brandy.

Your face contorted in disgust at her actions. The girl was going to already struggle, what is the need to play with her hunger?

"You sure you don't want to play with me first?" You turned your head from the perusing scene to the new voice. In front of you stood Jessup Diggs. He stood there, analyzing you as if you were a puzzle that had no connecting pieces. Your eyes moved down the concrete you sat on as you let out a soft, sad laugh.

"Already bad enough I'm not in there with you. Don't need to rub it in any further."

He squinted his eyes down at you. Every statement that has come out of your mouth has only served to confuse him more. From your very first meeting, the truck, earlier when you were in the cage, and now. Arachne's moves and character were what he expected when he was traveling to the Capital. But you and Coriolanus (and a recent brunette curly-haired boy on the far end of the zoo) were the anomalies. Lucy Gray told him to accept your help as she would her mentors, which was reasonable enough.

But why did it seem like she actually trusted you two? Sure, you jumped in with them, but it seemed for more personal gain than their tribute's benefit.

You looked back up to a questioning Jessup. He didn't understand what you meant that you should be in there with him.

"What's the difference between us? I happened to be born in the right place, I guess."

Your nonchalance intrigued him more than it brought fear. You may be just putting up a facade to make him trust you, but what would be the point? He was gonna die soon enough.

Jessup, much to your surprise, sat across from you as he gobbled down the food. He noticed you looking down and eyed you suspiciously. You just lightly smiled and promised to get him more if he would accept. He turned his head from side to side in thought, which caused the left side of his neck to be exposed. A dark and deep mark appeared against his skin, which caused you to have an instinct to reach out and help.

However, your sudden movement towards his neck caused him to back up rapidly. The action caused Lucy Gray and Coryo to look over in fright. But neither of you looked back as you stared at him apologetically while he eyed you again.

"Sorry, I just noticed and worried me."

You mumbled it quietly, which was oddly enough, reassuring to Jessup. He did see the worry appear in your facial features. The emotion was too deep and genuine to be faked. He slowly got back to his original position.

You kept your hands to your sides as you looked over his wound. Your eyes moved from his neck to his deep brown eyes.

"It looks new. Can I ask what it's from? I may be able to get some medication."

Jessup wondered how much was available to you at just a snap of a finger. Were you the type of person to do that? His assumption of the Capital made him believe so, but your personal actions proved otherwise. Especially your little stunt with Coral.

"Bat bite. Got it when covering for Lucy Gray. Rather me than her."

Your eyes went from warning to a softened glow. He didn't like the feeling of trust building

"I don't want medication though. I want to go out my way."

You couldn't help but smile at his conviction. If he didn't get medication, there was no way he would be able to survive. But that didn't seem to bother him.

"Jessup, if it's from a wild bat, there is a likely chance you can get rabies. Are you sure? It does wild things to those infected."

The effects of it bothered Jessup slightly. He didn't want to die as a deranged man he couldn't recognize, but he didn't want to give the people who took everything from him the satisfaction of his death. He shook his head in assurance, and you were ready to drop it when a thought sprang through your mind.

"I am willing to drop it, but please, be completely sure if this is what you want. Do you have family back home who need you?"

The mention of his family made him clench his teeth, and you were sure you messed up. You were quick to apologize, but that didn't erase the pounding thoughts of the boy's family.

"The only thing they need me for is to clean their gravestones."

Your gaze was sympathetic, but you turned it away. You knew what it felt to be looked at like a kicked puppy after people learned of your mother's passing. You were sure a man like Jessup wouldn't be very fond of pity.

"He looked a lot like you."

Your head went through whiplash due to the speed you turned to the boy. Your eyes were now the analyzing and questioning ones. You motioned for him to continue; to make sense of his statement.

"The boy who killed my family. He couldn't be any older than me, sixteenish. He had your eyes."

Your breath seemed to speed up as it dawned on you what he could be saying. That sweet little Otto was capable of murdering an entire family. Then again, what would he think of your actions in the war? Jessup took in your reaction as he cautiously continued.

"Don't think he don'it before. Kept looking back and forth between my pops and brother. Like he was begging them to change back time."

You were no longer looking at the talking boy, but it was clear you were hanging onto every word. Your eyes fluttered around as you tried to make sense of the new knowledge.

"He had reason if that makes you feel better. They were rebels and took out a good number of Capital forces. Just those two on their own."

He didn't hide his proud smile as he didn't even realize it appeared for a few moments. When he did, he was ready to see you storming off, glare knives into him, or plan ways to make him and his fellow tributes suffer. But you were just looking at him, a sad smile on your lips. You couldn't blame his smile. It was his family succeeding in their beliefs, no matter how it pained you. It wasn't as if you were sentenced to a bloodbath as your final moments.

The lack of aggression you presented allowed for Jessup to precede.

"They stood proudly as they were accused of their crimes. He gave them a chance, but they didn't say a peep. The boy with your eyes was shaky as he raised the gun. My momma couldn't hold back and ran into the gunfire. In just three seconds, my entire family erased. Glad they didn't shoot into the floor."

His face shifted from pride to bitterness to a hollowed smile.

"Always check the floorboards of twelve. Never know what you find."

You wanted to pipe up when you heard the disgruntled grunts of Brandy and the mocking laugh of Arachne. It had paused for the majority of your conversation with Jessup because Arachne was busy being interviewed by Lucky Flickerman. Though now she was back, her little game was resumed.

It burned your blood at seeing her cruel game. No one would ever describe Arachne as nice, but she would never stoop this low. Unless they were the district, apparently. You quickly muttered an apology to Jessup as you got up and walked unamusedly to the red-haired girl. Your hand swiftly snatched the glass bottle before it disappearedinto the bar to tease the starving girl again. Arachne looked up to the intruder, and a deep scowl appeared when she saw your face. Behind you, the sun was bright, as if casting a halo down on you. Oh, how fitting for little miss perfect, the sour girl thought.

You turned to Brandy and gave her a warm smile as you gently laid the bottle down next to her. Her eyes narrowed at your act and were glazed over in dehydration. The girl's hands were lightning as they snatched the drink and gulped it down as fast as was possible.

You left the tribute to her drink as you were met with the nasty stare of Arachne Crane.

"Feel proud of yourself for making her suffer even more? I mean, come on, Arachne!"

You huffed at her, irritated at her childlike behavior. Your back was turned as you began walking back to your own tribute when her voice sneered.

"Wonder what dear old Otto would think of you taking care of the same animals that chopped him up into tiny little—"

At the sound of your brother's name, you had turned back, and as she continued, so did your strides. But it was the sound of glass shattering that made you jump into action.

Physically jump as you pushed Arachne out of the way of the oncoming bottle. Brandy had a clear shot to the front of her mentor's throat but due to your speed and slightly turned position, it didn't hit her target. Instead, the broken bottle jammed itself within the side of your neck as your knees buckled on impact. You felt around the area as hot sticky blood poured all over your fingers.

Your hearing began getting muffled, but the gunshots were piercingly loud, as was the sound of your attacker's body hitting the ground. You saw red around you, unsure if it was one of your fellow students or even more blood.

Black dots began spotting your vision as you fought to keep them open upon the orders of someone. You weren't sure who, but whoever the saving angel was, they were doing everything to keep you conscious. No screams came out of your mouth, but warm salty streams across your cheeks, mixing in with the now pooling blood.

The lack of audible panic made your internal one settle slightly. Your mother surely screamed herself on the path of death as did your aunt Fiora. But then again, maybe your brother died without a squeak.

Your eyelids felt as if they were being welded shut against all your will power. You turned your head to the left, which was the side that hadn't been stabbed. The last thing you witnessed before you lost all reality was a head of pretty white hair with matching gorgeous blue orbs. His mouth kept on moving and forming words, but no sound pierced your ears.

You felt his hands around you, cradling your gushing neck. His hands looked as if permanently stained with red dye as he moved them around frantically. In such movements, his hands happened to fling your now apparent rings in front of your view. The two golden ones on the outside seemed mostly clear if the blood overtook her. That accursed silver of a thousand snowflakes glistened under the sunlight. As much as a ring being drowned in blood could.

Your eyes flickered from the bloody snowflakes up to the eyes of a bloodless Coriolanus Snow. A Coriolanus Snow who begged you to open up your eyes. Who attempted to will it into existence before he was pulled off by peacekeepers. Your body was hastily put on a stretcher and sent straight to the Capital hospital.

Not a single blink occurred from the blue frozen eyes of the Snow heir. How is it that it was only this morning when you were on the other side of the cage? Safer on that side.

Snow was on the verge of a breakdown. One of anger and of fear. He was only mere feet away. Only a few feet away and you still might lose your life because he wasn't careful. A promise was sworn internally within that calculated boy that day.

Never again will you be choking on your blood while he stood aside with nothing happening. You were not going to suffer the same bloody fate as your mother. You would not suffer. He swore the vow repeatedly as he rushed through the streets to meet your unconscious body. The world can take his money, parents, even the Plinth Prize. He would refuse to give it anymore.

He would not give up on you.

He would not give you up.

A/N: so sorry for it being so long! Not very carefully read I'm so sleepy I'm seeing things help. Pls lmk your thoughts. Much love !!

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

[miirshroom]

Shadow of the Erdtree - How Miquella Healed Freyja

He didn't. She's dead - they all are. Go to the suppression pillar and the game says very directly that death washes up in the Shadowlands.

"But that doesn't make sense because the player character is in the Shadowlands and isn't dead-" Yes you are. The Tarnished who return are "ye dead who yet live" and always have been. You are a special kind of living dead who can still see the Guidance of Grace and use it to teleport. This is the power that both you and Melina have. If you or any other character did not have this power, then what possible exit point is there from the Shadowlands?

The Scarlet Rot can't be cured in the Lands Between for the average person - as seems to be demonstrated by the Cleanrot Knights - but any wound can heal in death if a person believes that they have suffered enough and deserve healing. It's like, the #1 comfort that certain religions offer to people - that if they live a morally good life they will be rewarded in the afterlife. If Freyja only knew Miquella by reputation and rumours as a Great Healer who could even help Malenia then she would be willing to believe that he can heal her. And because dreams come true in death that is what happens.

"Long ago, I was stricken by scarlet rot in the Swamp of Aeonia. Immobile, feverish, and in great pain, I was entirely resigned to death. I was left behind, and only Kindly Miquella was enough to seek me out. My wound was swollen and festering — exuding a most pungent odour — and yet he drained the poison from it." - Freya, SotE

If something sounds too unbelievable to be true it probably is. Freyja was feverish at the time of this healing and does not describe exactly how she got to the Shadowlands. None of them do, except for Leda also meeting at the withered arm (and I have thoughts about what it means that Leda specifically meets you there). But you the player know that the conditions for getting Radahn and Mohg involved in the DLC storyline was to kill them. It's a frequent enough feature of ghosts that the dead do not realize that they are dead. Often this is a twist reveal at the end which makes it hard to discuss examples, but basically everyone knows about the Sixth Sense by now. Spirits "only see what they want to see. They don't know they're dead." There's also an early episode of Supernatural TV show that does this well.

"When the weak were infected with the dreaded fly sickness, they perished well before the metamorphosis could take hold. Oddly, those who cared for the infected made certain they were given a proper burial were never afflicted themselves." - Ailment Talisman, SotE

Sickness is not contagious here because the transmission of disease does not follow logical rules based on immune systems and disease vectors. A person will only suffer sickness if they believe that this is the punishment that they deserve even in death. That anyone is suffering here is an extension of the trope about dead people being oblivious to their status - the idea that people create their own torment in death if they think that it's what they deserve. The 1998 film "What Dreams May Come" is about this. And that title is based on a passage from Hamlet:

"To die, to sleep— To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come"

[skaruresonic]

I don't understand how someone is able to namedrop Heather Mason but not Harry Mason. He's her father. They have the same last name. Got all your SH3 info from Dead by Daylight, didn't you, Squidward

"Silent Hill is based on Centralia" is a myth perpetuated by Gans' films.

The Silent Hill of the games was not based on any particular town. The most you could say is that Team Silent based 2's aesthetics on several locations in San Bruno, California:

Letter From Silent Heaven - Rarities - Old Neely Street

Also, the games imply they take place in Maine:

Silent Hill, Maine | Silent Hill Wiki | Fandom

...whereas the Silent Hill of the films occurs in West Virginia.

---

I have many problems with Full Circle theory, not the least of which being that it erodes Silent Hill's ambiguity by forcing it to define some set of "rules" on which it operates. It would also require every character's emotional journey to be one of redemption and wrap everything up in a neat little bow...

But even worse, the theory assumes the town itself is sentient. That it cares about what happens to any particular character.

It is not. Silent Hill merely behaves as though it is because it is holding up a mirror to the characters' psyches. To assume Silent Hill has intentionality is to assume it is a god of sorts, rather than a force that manifests one's thoughts and feelings.

Mirrors have no sentience. They cannot force you to see anything. It is your perception which changes what you glimpse in your reflection.

The 1999 Konami-published Silent Hill Koshiki Guidebook likens the cycles of the Otherworld to the stages of REM sleep. I think most phenomena in SH can be attributed to this process instead:

silenthillchronicle.net/shkgb.htm

Q: Why does the town suddenly become dark? A: Even in the nightmare world, there is a cycle. It becomes night (?) on a number of occasions as Harry moves about the town. In the same way, there are also many times when aspects of the town and its buildings change completely. For the sake of convenience, this will be referred to as the "right side" and "reverse side" in this book. These changes occur because there is a cycle in the world of Alessa's nightmares which envelops the town. In the same way that a person normally repeats REM sleep and non-REM sleep in regular cycles while he or she is sleeping, when the nightmare world approaches a deeper darkness (sleep), a phenomenon occurs in which light is almost completely taken away and the world shifts into an even deeper nightmare as the cycle shifts again. As for the "right side" and the "reverse side," in short, it isn't that one is reality and one is a dream; the fact is that neither is reality. Incidentally, the reason the "reverse side" takes on such an ominous aspect is that with her burned body, Alessa's endless nightmares were twisted and amplified by thoughts of the malevolent god. Her hatred and terror became nourishment on which the malevolent deity thrived.

---

What's more, not everyone who comes to Silent Hill is guilty of a crime. Cybil's worst crime was driving too quickly on the road at night. Harry's was swerving to avoid hitting a pedestrian. Douglas Cartland never should have trusted Claudia when he took on Alessa Gillespie's missing persons case. Henry Townshend picked the wrong apartment to live in. And, God forbid, Eileen Galvin once gave her doll to a homeless man.

If the Full Circle theory applies to every single character, then that paints a very dark and punitive portrait of the town, where even innocents cannot escape. It once again implies intentionality on Silent Hill's part, casting it in the role of a god.

However, if rehabilitation of wayward souls is the town's goal, it's going about it in an ineffective way. If both kindness and guilt are punished indiscriminately, with one's fate being as much a dice roll as a result of their choices, there is therefore no "learning" a lesson that cannot inherently be learned. Those who are doomed to enter the Otherworld through nothing more than bad luck can expect to be trapped within it forever, or perhaps die.

How does the town determine how many chances any given person will receive? One? Two? Ten? Five million? How can a person know when they've reached their last chance? How can these "rules" of the Otherworld's be learned if they're subject to arbitrary change depending on the severity of the crime and/or guilt experienced?

There are too many holes in this theory to make it watertight. Occam's Razor would instead contend that Silent Hill does not punish people. People punish themselves. The town merely gives them the tools to do so.

[sundove88]

Can ya headcanon info dump the all of the Choco Cookies?

Dark Choco:

Considering that he was nearly starved to death by Dark Enchantress (He and the other Cookies of Darkness were only given small amounts of food a day), he earned the right to be chonky and full of food.

When he was a small cookie, he always dreamed of having his own horse to ride on. Fast forward to the present and now he has his own therapy horse named Heaven!

He was banished to The Cookie Kingdom as punishment for his actions, but grew to actually like his banishment and decided to serve the rest of it doing community service.

Pink Choco:

She’s good friends with Astronaut, Milky Way, Space Doughnut, Stardust, and even Xylitol Nova! She often spends a lot of time in space.

She is part of an astral organization dedicated to protecting Earthbread from beyond the planet.

Some of her favorite hobbies are making chocolates for her friends and going on adventures across the Galaxy.

Mint Choco:

He often teaches others how to play instruments alongside Creme Brûlée. He taught Cocoa to play the piano one time!

Speaking of which, he also makes for an excellent dance partner whenever he’s not playing music- he knows how to waltz and to boogie down.

He often stops by Herb’s greenhouse to look for new inspiration for his songs, as well as to decorate his new venues with.

White Choco:

She’s one of a handful of cookies who are of mixed heritage- She is of Hollyberrian and Dark Cacaoan origin!

She is good friends with Raspberry, Raspberry Mousse, Rose, Blueberry, Bumbleberry, and Cranberry- she even owns a Chantilly Shiba Inu!

Her favorite treat has to be Bingsu with a mixed berry syrup- which is a culinary fusion of her heritages!

Chess Choco:

They often finish their sentences- just like every twin does, considering that they are!

They often make macarons together and share them with the Cookies of Darkness, because they really do have hearts of gold.

They have an entire closet dedicated to dress up costumes, and this often ensures that they don’t get bored on rainy days.

Buttercream Choco:

He is the father of Cheesecake, which makes her of Golden Cheesian and Dark Cacaoan origin, just like Butter Pretzel Cookie.

He is super supportive of his daughter’s endeavors, especially when it comes to planning parties for the masses.

He’s incredibly wealthy and always uses his money for the greater good; such as donating to The Creme Republic’s sea cookies.

Chocolate BonBon:

One of her most treasured works is a beautiful ballgown (It was a Hanbok but purple and with Dark Cacaoan elements) she designed for Queen ChocoPearl so she could attend a prestigious event.

Her favorite part of making dresses has to be the last stitch, when everything leading up to that moment all comes together.

She carries around an emergency sewing kit in case anyone’s clothes get ripped or torn.

Choco Ball:

He always carries around a pack of gummies to share with his teammates whenever things get heated.

He’s starred in a LOT of energy drink commercials, some of which date back to when he was new to the team!

He always gets invited to his sister’s movie premieres. And that’s saying something!

Choco Bar:

She’s the big sis of Choco Ball, and loves to go to his soccer games whenever she has free time.

She always gives constructive criticism and ensures that the cast she works alongside can have a great time filming.

One of her premiere dresses was made by Chocolate BonBon! And she keeps it in a very special area of her wardrobe.

Dark Cacao:

After Episodes 13-14, he often goes around to each village disguised as an old man so he can learn about their cultures more.

Some of his favorite telenovelas and K-Dramas happen to be ones based on olden day legends and famous folktales.

Considering that he has nightmares (This is due to The Dream Express event), one of the more common ones is losing his entire family to the darkness. Again.

ChocoPearl:

During Episode 13, she had a gut feeling that she HAD to return to her people and be there for them- She ended up being right, as The Cookies of Darkness were trying to take over The Black Citadel.

She slapped Pomegranate without remorse for “Corrupting The Love of my Life” and “Corrupting My Son”, aka her husband and Dark Choco. Think of that scene from Coco.

She knows which herbs are suitable for medical treatment, and the ones which are not safe to consume. And she keeps a small satchel of them under her skirt at all times.

[ideahat-universe]

Good Design, Bad Design: ARG edition!

Don't worry, it's just a framing device. Lets talk about a Good ARG and a Bad ARG.

Good Design

Shipwrecked 64 is one of the better examples of a ARG done extremely well but what really sets it apart in my mind is the fact that it's a real game.

A lot of indie games make game play a means to an end, most of it benefits more from being watched than played.

A meta of overcharging people to play chapters of a game where each chapter is a little under 2 hours and the game play is just put key in keyhole and run from thing has really crippled the entertainment the genre can offer.

Not so for Shipwrecked 64. You're expected to learn and even write down many things to find the answers needed to progress.

Learn a little bit about music, remember numbers and colors when they appear to you, watch the videos that show up, Read the notes made by stumbler, utilize a fan made cipher to decode Beaver-scratch (or decode the method yourself!), dabbled in the phonetic alphabet, oh and a bit of some googling.

The game can be a punishing experience for streamers who expect to knock this game out in an afternoon. Because of that though it can be fun to play blind. In fact it's very fun to play blind and the scares are edited fairly well as the the jump part of scare utilizes a very surreal screen tearing effect, meanwhile the game tries to come up with ways to sneak up on you to make the jumps really sudden.

It's very good. Sure Poppy's Playtime is a more cinematic experience, and the latest Freddy Game wasn't that bad either but there's something about a really well rounded experience that lives beyond its expectations.

UrbanSpook is. Well, UrbanSpook is a TV dinner.

Let me explain.

A few months ago I mentioned Who's Lila which was also a really well done ARG and meta mystery story which was born from Twin Perfect's reading on what Twin Peaks was supposed to be about.

The idea is that Twin Peaks was a response to how throwaway and artless television was becoming and specifically how murder stories were just a cavalcade of dead bodies and killers with nothing else to care about.

The metaphor used in Twin Peaks? TV Dinners. Whenever bad people were indulging in base desires they were eating TV dinners or other meals that lacked substance.

Yeah, I think you know where I'm going with this. UrbanSpook comes out the gate with a framing device for a gallery of artwork but the framing is bare bones and the artwork only satiates the desire to see gore. The artwork is good but in creating a story it is not judged as a series of images and is instead judged as a story.

As a story we don't know who the killer is, how they kill, why they kill (why they have to kill people to make paintings). We don't know the victims beyond them being dead, when they died, and how they died. We don't know who is primarily responsible for investigating the killings (as it is not uncommon for a specific person to be tasked with bringing a serial killer to justice).

We know about as much as you might learn in a B movie. Which brings me to what I believe UrbanSpook is. UrbanSpook is a no budget ARG Splatterpunk horror.

People come in expecting some kind of lip-service to pathos because at the end of the day people love character, not kills; and in almost every good horror story you get characterization of everyone as well as a strong theme beyond "We like violence, yes we do."

BUT in a B-movie or a cheap slasher film you want gore, you want some blood thrown around, you want TV Dinners.

I imagine though that the budget of UrbanSpook is quite limited so rather than make a completely animated venture he went for the Mandela Catalog effect.

And maybe it's a good gambit. With money he could make a better production but he's getting a Serbian film style reception which does hurt and lashing out on Twitter isn't great PR but that's beyond the art and really everyone is terrible on Twitter.

UrbanSpook isn't bad because it dares to do things that are audacious and repugnant, because the horror genre has gladly housed such films since the creation of film as a genre.

What UrbanSpook does bad is telling a story and while morally Horror can do whatever it wants, artistically there is a good design for a horror story and a bad design for a horror story and this is

Bad Design