#spoiler he always lets her win of course ...... he just wants a reason for you to cuddle and comfort him......

[devoti]

anyways it's canon that naoya loves to pick a fight with his daughter with regarding anything under the sun, and would crawl to your bosom dissolving in woeful tears every time she wins an argument, wondering aloud to you about where she gets that attitude from

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[cassayeee]

IN THE FALLING SNOW (CORIOLANUS SNOW X FEM!READER)

warnings: this contains spoilers for The Ballads of Songbirds and Snakes, so read at your own risk. furthermore, this is smut - coriolanus snow smut. expect porn with a bit of plot, degradation, spitting, throat fucking, p in v, virginity taking, oral (m and f receiving), marking, idk just all of that good stuff. point is: mdni.

notes: this is like, really quickly proofread (and almost 8k words lol oops) , so apologies for any grammatical mistakes that pop up. also, this is the first time I've ever actually written smut so bear with me here. anyway, enjoy!

You were probably one of the only souls in Panem that knew the truth about the Snows. Shrouded in deceit of their true wealth status and fear of the truth being sung across the Capitol, you held onto their secret more closely to your chest than any of your own.

Having grown up on the Corso, practically next-door neighbors to the Snows in a penthouse befitting your own status, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be caught spending time between yours and the cousins almost every day. So much time, that the high society of the Capitol could almost always count on the L/N’s and Snow’s appearing at any event with the other in tow.

That was, of course, until the rebellion. While your parents had decided on siding alongside the president, the Snow’s had decided on another course, driving a wedge right through the once unbreakable bond between the two. And once the bombings had come and gone, you still had all your affluence and one less mother, but the Snow’s had found themselves even worse off.

However, you and Coriolanus Snow didn’t let any of that deter your own relationship.

---

“Coryo! Come on! Punctuality is a dish best not served cold.” You jeered over to your friend who had just exited his front door onto the wide and ever-expanding avenue.

His blue eyes locked onto your own as he made his way over to your car, the Avoxes in the front seat doing nothing more than staring straight ahead, ready to make the trip over to the Academy. As he entered, you made note of his blouse that could only have been touched by Tigris’ clever hand.

“Wow. Did Tigris do this for you? It’s beautiful.” Snow watched you dote on his reaping attire as he nodded ‘yes’ to your question.

“It was one of my father’s.” he finally replied as you contently sat back further into your family car’s seat.

“So,” you started. “How are you feeling about your mentorship for the Games this year?”

He raised a brow at you as he pondered your question. “In all honesty, I’m just hoping for a good tribute selection. 1 or 2 would be preferable, but even 4 or 11 would suffice. Someone with a chance of succeeding, I suppose.”

You inclined your head through his reasoning. It made sense, you had always known Coryo to be a competitive man – wanting nothing more than the control to make things go as he pleased.

“Well, with your charm and wits, I’m sure you could make any contender into a victor.”

---

And, oh, how right you were. Watching your Coryo more than triumph over his mentorship and even getting his tribute to win the Hunger Games had your own pride swelling in turn. This was all he ever wanted. To have his reputation goldened and his University spot secured, you couldn’t wait to see how he would blossom in the coming years.

What you were less than happy about, however, was how closely he and that District 12 girl had become. Sharing a picnic in that rat-infested zoo? Going to her for problems that he used to come to you about? Oh, your ego took a bruising after that.

Was she there for him after he lost his parents? No.

Was she there for him as his fortune declined? No.

Was she there to sneak food over to him to make sure the family didn’t die from starvation? No.

Was she there to hold him at night when he couldn’t sleep even after attempting to find solace in his mother’s compact? No.

What did she do? Sing a little song and twirl in her rainbow dress? Oh, please. You knew a flirt when you saw one, and did she ever fit the bill.

A part of you had even hoped that she died in the Games. Easy. Out of their lives forever and what was the biggest problem after that? Getting Coryo to University? With a little convincing you were sure you could’ve gotten your own father to sponsor him. Really, he needed to get over his little conviction with the Snow’s. It’s not like he didn’t owe Crassus more than that.

But besides that, you felt like you were losing your best friend. Had you been in love with him for years hoping he’d return your affections? Of course. Were you perfectly comfortable staying his friend and supporting him even so? I mean, not really, but sooner or later he would have realized that you were all he’d ever need.

If only that stupid little songbird would just fly away.

---

Arriving home from the Academy after the end of the Games, your feelings were twisted in a knot. More than anything you just wanted to climb into your room and sulk or find a way to get your father to cause an “accident” for that Lucy Gray Baird on her way back to 12, whatever would be more appealing at the time.

But, you knew you had to get over to the Snow’s to congratulate Coryo. Jealousy aside, you were still so proud of all he’d done and wanted to make sure he knew that.

Once you entered the penthouse, Tigris greeted you with a big smile and an even bigger hug.

“Oh, Y/N,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he actually did it!”

You couldn’t help but fall further into her hug, genuinely happy in her arms. She was right. You were being selfish thinking about him and the girl at a time like this. Tomorrow you could be bitter all you want, but tonight, tonight was about Coriolanus Snow.

Helping her and the Grandma’am set up their old party favors and arranging the cake you brought over for him, you couldn’t help but wait for his arrival. Not being part of the mentorship, you had left as soon as the Games concluded allowing for Coryo to debrief with his fellow members and any newscasters looking for an interview.

Hearing the door turn, you all jumped up in celebration as you saw him enter. Noticing immediately that something was wrong with him, you dropped your arms as he burst into tears. Shocked, you started to make your way over to him as he ran into your arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he began to tell you about Highbottom and the Games.

And that’s when your world came crashing down around you.

---

You found yourself in Coryo’s room as he had his head placed in your lap, arms wrapped tight around your legs as you ran your hands through his hair. A position the two of you hadn’t found yourselves in for quite some time, but one that you both found nothing but comfort in.

“Maybe they’ll change their minds. Realize that losing you as a Capitol citizen is more a punishment onto themselves than for you.” You attempted to reason with him. To give him any sort of hope.

He only turned his head in your lap to face you. “Maybe if Highbottom didn’t hate me, but this feels more personal than even just being caught for cheating.”

“What about Gaul?” you tried, combing through his curly locks. “She seemed to have really taken a liking to you with all that extra essay work and singling you out whenever she could.”

“Gaul is certifiably insane and even more like her mutations than you’d realize.” He rebuked. “No, she wouldn’t even let me into the Citadel to try and reason with her. This is my only option.”

You both were silent for a stretch until you broke the silence with a hiccup. Feeling your body start to shake, Coryo rose from your lap to see you silently crying into your free hand. He reached for your head to bring into his chest, allowing you to release your emotions onto him.

“Oh, my Y/N.” The way he softly cooed your name made you latch your arms around him and cry even harder.

With a break in your hysterical state, you retreated your head away from his now tear-stained shirt and looked up at him.

“I don’t want you to go.” You confessed. “I want you to stay here. With Tigris. With the Grandma’am. With me. Please.”

His gaze softened while studying your features. He brushed back your slightly sweaty hair from your forehead as he placed a loving kiss upon it. You closed your eyes in the tender moment, never wanting it to end.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He asserted. “I promise.”

Trying your best not to lose your composure again, you buried yourself back into him, hiding your face from view. Tangling yourselves together, you attempted to find a semblance of sleep in his embrace, knowing that this may be the last intimate moment you get with him in years.

Eyes falling shut and breathing becoming labored, Coryo watched as you drifted asleep in his arms. His Y/N. His beautiful, intelligent, loyal Y/N. He knew he should have kissed you before. Told you that he’d only ever want to fall asleep in your arms, no matter what the news made of his and Lucy Gray’s relationship. But the good man in him knew that would have just made things worse for you, after he left, and he needed you to stay strong and become the powerful woman you were born to be.

And the not-so-good man in him reveled at the fact that you would always ache for more from him. Waiting until he returned. Loyal until the end. And if he returned to see you with someone else? Well, that would be sure to be remedied quickly. Because, as you were both severely aware, Snow lands on top.  

---

It had been months since you’d last seen him. And every day still hurt as much as the last. While you did receive letters from him, it was never the same as having him here. In person. Across the avenue and readily available at your beck and call.

With the worsening state of the Grandma’am and Tigris’ situation, you tried to help as much as you could, but your father strictly forbade anymore spending on the two after Coryo’s departure. He even threatened to send you to the Citadel for a “long-term internship” if only to keep you away. So, all you could do was watch the further deterioration of your family.

On a late day in September, you and your father were preparing to leave for the University for a pre-semester gala, attended by those in current attendance, and new studies joining in just a few days.

You smoothed down your blood-red, pin-straight formal gown, backless with a slit rising just up to your upper thigh, viewing yourself in your large vanity mirror white fixing your satin gloves. A tulle train adorned the back of your gown, wrapping around your waist and sparkling slightly with the gems attacked throughout it. Not as eccentric as some of the other Capitol citizens, you kept a rather minimalistic style, but you looked good, like, really fucking good. Hair styled in an intricate updo and makeup accentuating your features, you couldn’t help but enjoy your reflection. What was wrong with a bit of self-indulgence?

It’s not that you would describe yourself as vain or vapid, but rather know the worth in your own beauty. If you were to be a woman in a wolf-den of men, playing to your strengths and charms would be the only way to get anywhere, besides your self-assured intelligence, of course.

Breaking you out of your trance, you heard your father call from the foyer that the car had made itself around and was ready to depart. Taking a deep breath and checking your appearance once more, you began your trek into the snake pit.

---

Just as you had suspected, the hall was full of high-class society goers, along with many of the staff and faculty of the University. This was your time to solidify past Academy connections as well as create new ones as the environment called for. Knowing people was everything. And knowing people liked you was even better.

Making your rounds with your father, you stopped to chat with some of his associates and peers to begin your night. Already growing bored with the conversation, you stopped a passing Avoxes to grab a glass of posca to solicit a light buzz, making the night infinitely better.

Excusing yourself from the group to take a breather of business talk, you began to make your own way around to speak to some of your fellow Academy graduates among some influential figures in the University.

Currently speaking to Hilarius Heavensbee, the two of you were catching up on what you had both done after graduation, among small talk of the hushed Hunger Games.

“No, my parents were still pissed that my tribute only made it to 8th place, but how was that my fault?” he exclaimed. “The girl was already on her deathbed by the time she made it into the arena, and I couldn’t send her a miracle on a drone.”

You giggled at his exasperated state, slightly because of the posca you still sipped on.

“At least you got to mentor,” you bemused. “Fucking Persephone Price beat me out for a spot, so all I had was a good seat and an ability to bet.”

“Oh?” he said in a teasing lilt. “And did you place any bets my way, Y/N?”

You caught his eyes looking you up and down in a lustful gaze. You were always friendly with Hilarius back in the Academy, but never entertained much more than that, since your heart had always belonged to him.

But, as your body grew warm with the posca and need to feel wanted, you couldn’t help yourself from taking a small step closer to Hilarius, though still a respectable distance given the circumstances, while you dedicated a small giggle to him.

“Now, Hilarius,” you remarked. “If you wanted me to place my bets on you, you should have given me a little bit more to work with.”

He rolled his eyes at your slight jab, even knowing you were only teasing.

“Just because my tribute didn’t know how to please a crowd, doesn’t mean I don’t.”

The slight innuendo didn’t slip past you even in your hazy state. If anything, it only caused you to peer at him through your long lashes, blinking slowly as you licked your bottom lip. Before either of you could speak again, a murmur rushed through the crowd as you noticed people staring toward the entrance of the room. Turning to see what the commotion was about, you almost let the glass slip through your hands as you saw him staring right at you.

Standing shocked and immovable, all you could see was him, completely forgetting about Hilarius and your prior engagement. It was as if the commune around you was nothing more than a backdrop to your reunion. You watched as he greeted faculty and society members alike, never moving from your spot as he continuously flicked his eyes over to you.

He was back. Your Coryo was actually here. Suited in a black ensemble, he looked more handsome than you even remembered. How was that possible? He didn’t say anything in his last letter about returning home. Last you remember, he was still waiting back on his officer test results, so why the fuck is he at the University gala?

Whether it took minutes or hours, you kept your spot and waited for him to make his way over. And as soon as his full attention was on you, you couldn’t tell if you were going to sob, faint, or both at once. Long strides took him over to you, where he tilted his head down to view your frame.

Still stuck in a stupor, the best you could get out was, “H-hi.”

His mouth quirked up in a half-smile as he returned his own “Hello, Y/N.”

Your name flowing from his lips finally broke you out of the shocked state you were in as you grabbed his hand and made your way over to one of the balconies hidden behind a large curtain. With the fresh air giving you some reprieve from the heat your body was melting in, you enclosed him in a hug burying your face in his chest. Inhaling his rose scent, all your nerves relaxed. Something only he could ever do.

“Oh, Coryo,” you sighed. “I missed you so much. Every single day I missed you. What are you doing here? Why are you –“ Finally looking up to face him, all you saw was anger painted on his face.

Furrowing your brows, confusion clouded your features as you couldn’t understand why he was looking at you like that.

Jaw ticking, he stayed silent.

“Coryo?” you cooed like a child in trouble.

Something about the way you spoke his name finally had him relaxing his muscles, but still had a hard gaze on you. Quickly looking back over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking your way, he walked you backward toward the rail of the balcony. Arms on either side of you, he closed you in so that the only thing you could see was him.

“I get home,” he started. “Expecting nothing but a warm welcome from my dear Y/N, and what do I see? You looking at that Heavensbee trash like you wanted him to fuck you. Like you wanted him to touch what is mine.”

Surprise crossed your face as you placed your hands on the lapels of his suit jacket.

“W-What?” you stuttered. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Y/N. You think I don’t know what you were trying to do with him? Don’t forget who knows you better than you know yourself.”

He looked at you with a mixture of disgust and thinly veiled hate, like he wasn’t happy to see you at all. Like he didn’t miss you at all.

And you got mad.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Coriolanus.” You spat his name. “As it so happens, I’m a woman with womanly needs, and seeing as I can do as I please, I could go home with him right now and there wouldn’t be a thing you could do about it.”

He sneered at you with a laugh that had no hint of humor behind it. Tightening his grip on the rails he lowered his head down to your ear as you sucked in a quick breath of air at his closeness.

“Oh, Y/N,” he muttered. “You and I both know he’s not what you want. He just wants to get his dick wet and you, love, want mine shoved down your throat.”

Trying your best not to let him get to you, you utterly failed as a tiny whimper escaped the back of your throat and your thighs began to rub together.

Chuckling, Coryo lifted his head again to view your disheveled state. He caressed your neck with a callused hand, rubbing his thumb across your soft spot before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your mouth close to his.

“He will not have you, Y/N L/N. You are solely mine, and whether I have to speak it, fuck it, or brand it into you, you will remember that. Now,” he released his grip on you. “Say your goodbyes, besides that imbecile Heavensbee, acquire your coat and meet me outside so I can finally stop this tiring back-and-forth and take what is rightfully mine.”

Pure lust layering over any coherent thoughts, all you could do was nod as you smoothed back down your dress and hoped that the cool air was helping your reddened cheeks from becoming too noticeable. Telling your father, you weren’t feeling well, he allowed you to take the car home and let you retire early for the night. Unknowingly to him, Coryo Snow followed you into the vehicle, one hand firmly planted on your bare thigh the entire ride.

---

Between the University to now, your heart rate had increased significantly from Coryo’s actions. You weren’t sure what exactly had gotten into him or what had happened to him since you last said your goodbyes, but the aggressiveness he showed you was an extreme you had never seen before.

Though, you couldn’t really be upset. After all, he had finally admitted to you what you had wanted to hear for almost two decades: he wanted you. And that excited you to no end.

As Coryo watched you fiddle in your seat, he couldn’t help but smirk thinking about how you were acting for him. A few sentences and you were reduced to mush in his hands, willing to do anything to get him back to your room. And it’s not like he was any better.

After his extravaganza in District 12, he realized just how much you meant to him. None of those deplorable District filth specimens could hold a candle to you. His Y/N. His pretty girl who would do anything for him and who he would do anything for.

How it angered him to see you talking to Heavensbee – like he was worth even a glance from you. You were supposed to wait for him, to be a good little girl, and refuse any suitors who tried to have their way with you. And you, you with your ‘womanly needs’ like anyone else would be able to take care of you like he could. No. No, he would make sure that after tonight you would remember who the fuck owns you.

---

After dismissing your driver, you made your way into the penthouse across from the Snows, opening the door and removing your coat, gloves, and shoes at the entrance. Coryo followed suit by unbuttoning his jacket and slipping off his loafers right by yours. Together. Yours and his – as they always should be.

Turning back around to face him, you saw the anger had faded a bit from his features, but a crease still lined in between his brows. He raised his hands to cup your face as he lowered his lips to yours.

This is heaven and I’m dead, you thought to yourself, still in disbelief that this was happening to you. You grabbed his own face in return with newfound enthusiasm as he groaned into your mouth, happy to have you reciprocating his own unhinged lust.

Tongues battling for dominance, you felt him tip your head upwards so he could completely devour your mouth – no question that he was the one in charge. Whimpering into him, he broke the kiss for just a second to see your fluttering eyelids open to him. Blue eyes peering down at you, he gripped open your jaw, spitting into your mouth.

“Swallow.” He commanded. And you happily obliged.

Placing his mouth on yours once more, he lowered himself to grip you behind the knees and lifted you around his waist. Dutifully responding, you wrapped your legs around as he began the trek to your bedroom, spit drooling from both your mouths as if you never wanted to be free from the other.

As he entered your room, you were becoming hotter by the second, needing to get this damned dress off of you. As he set you down on the edge of the bed, his nimble fingers reached behind you to slowly pull the straps down your arms, drawing out the action. He removed his mouth to quickly reattach it to your shoulder, following the line of your dress removal.

Getting to your elbows, you swiftly pulled your arms from between the strap openings, bearing your chest to him. Dilated eyes latched onto your breasts, with his mouth ferociously following suit. You moaned loudly into the room, encouraging him to latch his lips onto your nipple, running his teeth along the perked bud. Not wanting to leave one unattended, he lifted his hand to squeeze and tease your other breast, switching between the two as he saw fit.

“Fuck,” he groaned out as he pulled away. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You whined at the confession. Wanting more, more, more of him. He chuckled.

Finally, slipping the rest of your dress from your body, Coryo growled as you saw you had no undergarments on. The amusement all lost from his face.

He slid his hand around your throat, putting a light amount of pressure on it as he pushed you into the bed. Your own hands went to grip around his wrist, hoping to relieve yourself somewhat of the constraint.

“The fuck, Y/N. What,” he snarked. “Are you some District whore begging for any scrap of dick you can get? Huh? Is that it?”

You attempted to shake your head as he still held you by the neck. “No?” he bemused. “Because walking around with this pretty pussy out on display doesn’t seem like something a Capitol purebred does.”

“Please, Coryo,” you squeaked out. His words were getting to you, along with the pressure still being applied to your neck, adding to your growing wetness. Attempting any chance at receiving friction, you rubbed your thighs together, drawing his eyes down to your ministrations.

“Awe,” he tutted. “Does my sweet little whore need some relief? Is that it?”

He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your impatient nod to come. As it did, he removed his hands from your throat. Feeling your release, you sat up to watch as he unbuttoned his dress shirt in front of you.

“Hmm. And what makes you think you deserve it?” He continued undoing each of the buttons while he raised a brow waiting for your reply.

You looked at him with a pout, widening your legs apart to give him a good view of your glistening pussy.

“Please, Coryo,” you begged once more. “I promise I’ve been good to you. Never even touched another man. Only ever thought of you. Only ever wanted you.”

He discarded his shirt as he listened to your own confessions.

“Only ever me?” he started working on his belt. “Tell me, love, did you think of me when you touched that dirty pussy at night? When you’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, disappointed they couldn’t fill you up enough?”

You were practically salivating at his words, voraciously shaking your head in agreement. You watched as he slipped his pants and socks off, only standing before you in his briefs. Looking low, you could see the bulge hiding behind the article of clothing, just begging to be set free.

Rising to rest on your knees, you looked up to him, eyes urging him to come closer. Doing as you so preciously asked, he towered over you, caressing your face. You practically purred in his hands, nuzzling further into them.

With your own hands free, you started palming at his covered cock. Coryo closed his eyes, pushing himself further into your reach. Enjoying the way you were making him feel, you felt the overwhelming urge to show him just how much you missed him.

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded to him, and his eyes immediately shot to yours as you began lowering the waistband of his trousers. He had an amused look on his face once more, watching his adorable little unsullied pet want to please him. With zero reservations, he let you do as you pleased.

With newfound confidence, you set his aching cock free. It stood straight like a good soldier –  with an angry red tip that was begging for your orders. He was larger than anything you previously experienced – not that you’d ever admit that to your Coryo. However, you didn’t actually get much further than oral activities with your former rendezvous’, hoping and praying that Coryo would be the one to truly mark your body as his. And thank fuck for that.

Bringing your attention back to your current situation, precum was pooling at the tip as you wet your lips in hunger. Gripping the base, you brought your mouth down to give kitten licks to savor his arousal, slowly starting to pump his cock in your hand. He groaned as you continued to give him just enough for stimulation, but not enough to bring him closer to that sweet relief.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” he snarled. Grinning at his behavior, you finally enclosed your mouth around his member, eliciting a low moan from him as you took what you could into your throat. Slurping and sucking, the lewd sounds you were making only drove him further towards release.

Wanting to be good for him – only him – you hollowed your cheeks to attempt to take all those lovely eight inches from top to bottom. Breathing through your nose and working your way closer to the hair at the base of his dick, Coryo lost all semblance of his self-control as you sheathed his entire length in your mouth.  

Tearing your already loosening hair free from its previously styled updo, he replaced the pins and trinkets with his own hand, wrapping the strands around and pulling your head back so he could fuck into it.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve –“ He took a deep breath as your throat constricted around him. “Fuck. Should’ve done this years ago. You feel so good.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations bringing him even closer to that sweet peak. Letting him do as you pleased, tears pooled in your eyes from the abuse, but you loved every second of it. Having him lose his precious control around you was the biggest prize you could win.

And all that control was lost in the moment he finally hit his peak. Shoving his dick as far as he could into your mouth, he released every last drop of his spend into you. As he pulled out of you, you greedily swallowed everything he left in your spit-riddled mouth.

Coming down from his high, he flared his nose at you, watching you gulp up any remnants of his seed. He quickly gripped your jaw and pulled you close to his face. Aching from the brutal pace of his hips and now the snake-like vice he had on you, your jaw would sure to be sore for the next couple of days. Yet still, you whimpered up at him.

“Who else did you let do that to you?” Shaking your head, you tried to plead in your actions that you hadn’t – not trusting your own voice to keep your lies hidden. He would know as soon as you opened your mouth anyway.

“No one? You expect me to believe that?” He was growing angrier by the second. “Do you take me for a fool, Y/N?”

“No!” you immediately pleaded. You never wanted him to think you thought ill of him – not when he was your whole world.

“Then tell me.” His hold tightened. “Tell me so I can fucking ruin their meaningless lies for ever touching what doesn’t belong to them.”

You tried to shake your head again, but he held you still. His eyes bore into your own waiting for a reply. Realizing you weren’t going to mislead him any longer, you caved.

“Felix and Pup.” With eyes narrowing, his mouth lifted into a furious grimace. He threw your head backward as you hit the mattress in a puff. You took a deep breath and watched as he began to kneel on the floor by your bed, gripping under your thighs and pulling you until you hit the edge of the bed.

Inches away from your cunt, you could feel his maddened huffs of hot air escape from his mouth and onto you. Running a single finger through your slick, you gasped at the stimulation and threw your head back. Your fingers tangled in the sheets of your bed.

“You let those ignorant, dull bastards touch you?” He spat out. You lifted your head just enough to look at him before you felt him continue to play with your growing wetness, causing you to drop your head back down once more.

Not knowing what to say, you just continued to lay there, hoping that he’d continue to give you any sort of friction on your pleading pussy. Unamused by your silence, he stopped his musings and leaned back. You groaned into the air as you rose your head again.

“Yes.” You admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything! Please, Coryo. You know I’ve only ever needed you.” Attempting to play into his ego, you hoped that he would just get over it and go back to touching you.

“Yeah?” he said, still not touching you. “Then why should I even bother with a slut like you? Whoring yourself out to anyone who looks at you, huh?”

Getting fed up with still not being touched you threw your legs around his head, locking them at the ankles. Glaring down at him, he looked entertained at your angry state, even while still being in his own.

“Yeah?” you mocked back. “And what about you, Coriolanus?”

He raised a brow at your words, silently allowing you to continue your taunt.

“Whoring yourself out to District trash? At least I had the decency to suck a clean dick. What did you expect when you were running around with your precious little –“

Rolling your eyes back, your words died on your tongue as his own ran a strip up your now dripping pussy. Your legs attempted to close around his head, but his large, veined hands kept them apart.

Forgetting about whatever it was that you were mad about before, you started rubbing yourself on his face, whimpering every time his nose caught your clit. Without warning, he entered one of his long fingers into your hole, caressing your innermost parts.

“Fuck, Coryo,” you moaned out as your hands gripped onto the short strands of curls that were starting to return after his Peacekeeper days. Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger – curling it to reach a spot that you’d never been able to find yourself.

He suckled on your clit as he pumped faster, and you grew closer to your own climax. Squelching noises bounced around the room as your arousal pooled around his fingers – so, so, so close to a release.

“Please, Coryo. I’m going to –“ Before you could even finish the sentence, he withdrew his fingers from your heat.

“What the fuck.” You growled out, furious at the loss of your orgasm. But you couldn’t stay mad. Not when he was currently licking his fingers clean, eyes filled with pure bliss. Already, you could feel yourself growing wetter at the sight.

Popping his fingers out of his mouth, he rose to cage you onto the bed. He looked down on you as his arms were planted firmly on either side of you. He tilted his head, seemingly pleased by your struggles.

“Oh, love. Did you think I was going to let you come anywhere but on my cock?” He brought his head down close to your head, licking a stripe up from the base of your neck to the lobe of your ear. You shivered in delight.

“No, my dear. I’ve waited far too long for this to let that beautiful moment go to waste.” He spoke softly to you. “Though, while I do sit with the anticipation of how your release may taste on my tongue, I have the whole night for that. Along with the rest of our lives.”

Coryo softly caressed your face as a moment of vulnerability passed over his face, perhaps one of the rare times you would truly see the boy you fell in love with.

“She was never you.” He whispered.

And you melted. Tears started to well in your eyes at the sweet confession. While you were still upset at heart that he had ever chosen that whore Lucy Gray to begin with, you could live with the fact that he was here now. That he had chosen you now. And over your cold, dead body would you ever let him go.

Shifting your hands to hold the back of his head, you brought his lips down onto your own. Slowing down for just this moment, you tried to convey all your feelings for him in the movement of your mouth. And Coryo sighed into you.

He wasn’t a good man – you both knew this. He was controlling and obsessive and possessive, but he was yours. You weren’t that great of a woman either if you were being honest. Jealousy boiled deep in your veins alongside a pot of anger that constantly threatened to spill over your “kind” persona, but you were his.

In those tangled weaves of fate, you had both found each other, knotted up at the center. No person could come between that, and God help whoever tried.

Shifting your mouth so that he could more aggressively push himself onto you, you said goodbye to the tender intimacy and relished in the way he roughly handled you.

He continued to play with your swollen clit, readying your virgin cunt for his length. Oh, how he was enlivened at the fact that he would be the first, and only, man to sink his cock into your heat. This would bond the two of you even further than you already were, marking you as his forever.

Slipping off the undergarment that he still wore, you and he were now fully bare to each other – like the Greek sculptures of old. Lovers before the fall. Viewed as soft and malleable, but in truth were filled with the hardness of their years – ready to find solace in the only other being that could see them as they truly were.

Taking his cock in his hand, Coryo began to rub his cock up and down your wet pussy. You moaned each time he swiped over your pearl and even more so when he put a bit of pressure on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Coryo.” You cried. “Just put it in already. Please. I need to fucking feel you.”

Your sweet begging was like music to his ears, and the cut of his restraint. Wasting no more time, he slowly started inching his way into you. Grunting, he rocked himself into you as you grimaced from the pain.

“Shit.” He moaned out. “You’re so fucking tight. Just relax for me, hmm, love? You’re doing so well. My good little girl.”

His praises went right to your core as your body began to open up more for him. Sinking yourself further into the mattress, he took one more thrust to fill you up completely.

Looking at you with only a sliver of blue around his blackened pupil, he groaned low and deep from the back of his throat after being fully sheathed in you. You, on the other hand, were still adjusting to the intrusion, but soon the pain subsided and all you wanted him to do was move.

“I’m okay, love.” You whined, giving him the go-ahead to finally start rocking his hips against yours.

Ever so slowly, he ran his length in your heat, getting you both accustomed to the feeling – addicting yourselves to it, more like. And with every thrust, he began to lose that self-control once more, pushing harder and deeper into you.

“God, Y/N. You’re sucking me right in.” He clenched his jaw at the pleasure coursing through him as you moved your hands up to grip his shoulders, digging your nails into him.

All you could feel was him. In you. Around you. His smell flowed into your nostrils as sweat and sex filled the air around you. And you couldn’t get enough.

“Coryo. Coryo. Coryo.” Your brain was turning to mush the more you could feel him rib against your walls. His name a prayer on your tongue and his body a temple as you worshipped both and all.

“Fuck.” He grabbed onto the back of your knees to lift your legs above his shoulders. Switching angles, he could reach even more of you as he pounded you into the bed. Squealing from the stimulation and pure pleasure, you held onto the sheets in a vice, trying not to spiral away.

“Look at this pretty fucking cunt. All mine.” He started rambling as he became drunk on your pussy. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to– fuck. Who even looks at you. I’ll fucking send them right to Gaul’s fucking mutations and watch as they die. Shit. I’ll fuck you right next to their corpse. Have them drown in their blood and our cum.”

His thrusts became more rapid as your cunt squeezed around him from his words. You couldn’t help the whines and moans as you thrashed your head back and forth.

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Like that, huh? Good. My dark little seductress. My perfect rose. Mine.” He thrusted into you.

“Mine.” Thrust.

“Mine.” Harder.

“Mine.” Deeper.

“God, yes.” You cried. “All yours! Please, please, please.”

Your words started to become unintelligent after you continued to search for your high. Coryo, noticing your state, began to play with your clit once more. Aching for you to cum all over his cock.

His own eyes rolled to the back of his head as he got closer and closer to his own release. With a foggy head, he quickly pulled out before immediately flipping you onto your stomach as you huffed out a disapproving whine. Filling you back up, however, had you right back to your drunken state.

“That bitch from 12 could never compare to you.” His tongue loosened confessions as he kept ramming his hips into your ass. “Fucking– fuck. Only used her so she would win. So I could– shit. Could go with you to University.”

You were barely comprehending his words at this point. Moaning obscenities into the sheets below you, you let him ramble without complaint.

“Make sure you didn’t try to find someone else there. No one– fucking damn it. No one else can have you. Gonna fuck you full of my cum and make sure everyone knows that.”

He felt you groan into the sheets again in pleasure. Gripping your hair, he pushed you further down as your back arched higher into the air. Keeping one knee on the bed, he bent the other to reach as deep as he could to fill you up.

“Coryo.” You drawled out in a lust-filled, husky voice.  

“I know, love. I know.” He felt you starting to twitch as your orgasm neared. “Never gonna let you go. Never gonna let you leave me.”

“Fuck!” You gasped into the sheets as you felt that coil tighten in your lower stomach. Tingles shot from your toes to your head as you waited for it to snap.

“Coryo!” you whined once more. “Please, I’m gonna come. Wanna come on your cock so bad. Let me come, please!”

Grunting, he reached around your torso to find your clit. Wrapping himself around you, he began twisting and rubbing on your pearl, making your release come faster and faster until –

“Come on my fucking cock, Y/N. Come on pretty girl.” And through his words and actions, that wave finally crashed as you moaned his name loudly into the bed. Legs shaking slightly, you kept rocking your hips back to meet his, riding out the best orgasm you’d ever felt.

You could tell Coryo was getting close too, by the way his thrusts got sloppier and paced quicker. He kept groaning your name under his breath wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed.

Leaning his head down on your shoulders, he bit hard into your soft skin, marking his territory. You whined into the sheets as you could feel another wave coming toward you. Feeling you constricting around him had him suckling on the skin all over your neck – making sure there would be no doubts about who you belonged to.

“Fuck, Coryo.” You said as that coil began to tighten once more. “I want you to come in me. Want to– hmph. Want to drip with your seed.”

Growling right by your ear, he pushed even deeper into you, as the both of you chased your highs.

“Gonna get you pregnant with my kids.” Closer the two of you were getting, that beautiful high right in sight. “See your stomach swell with my babes. Over and over again.”

You both moaned out, so close.

All it took was one more deep thrust until Coryo painted your walls white as the driven snow. Your own release followed shortly behind as your body began to slump from exhaustion.

Coryo was entranced by the ring of both of your cum around his cock, slowly rocking it back into you to make sure it took. He will have you with him when he rules Panem. He will have you carry his children and be there to take care of him, as he would you. And he will never let you go.

Both of you falling into a mess of limbs on your bed, you couldn’t help but admire the man who lay next to you, wanting nothing more than for every day to be with him. An adoring smile graced your face as you traced his features.

He watched you with curiosity, before pulling you in by your waist to be even closer to him. You snuggled into his chest as his strong arms wrapped around you, sighing contently. Ever so slowly, your eyes began to droop, heavy with sleep. But, before you surrendered to your slumber, you whispered out to Coryo.

“I love you.” And you fell asleep.

His eyes widened slightly with fear. He feared for not only your feelings for him but his feelings for you. He never truly loved Lucy Gray, but you. You were always the holder of his heart, and he knew that was dangerous in the games he would yet have to play.

But he was a selfish man. He wouldn’t be letting you go, and he wouldn’t let anyone else get their hands on you – lover or enemy. He would keep you close, always in his sight, always safe. And really, what did he have to worry about?

“I love you too,” he whispered to your sleeping form.

Everything would work out for you two, he would make sure of it.

Besides, he thought to himself,

Snow always lands on top.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Featuring coffee shop, neighbours and historical AUs because everyone deserves to find their next comfort read.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

Provisionally Yours by snapslikethis

Lily Evans discovers she’s been married off to James Potter without her knowledge. She and the spoiled count (in whom she appears to have finally met her match) have three days, for better or worse, to decide whether to accept the contract. With her sister adamant to make her life miserable, and a husband who seems equally determined to repel her, what else can possibly go wrong?

I think this fic captures their inquisitive nature perfectly. Through their banter, you can see just how compassionate and selfless James is and how he can be very sincere despite his antics. Lily is described in canon as vivacious and this fic illustrates how her reserved nature dissolves when in good company.

Till Death Do Us Part (Let It Be Quick) by @wearingaberetinparis

“Till death do us part,” she concluded, all air sucked from her lungs. Her fate signed, sealed and delivered. As the priest spoke his final words, she found herself ensnared in her adversary's gaze, trapped by the weight of it, her mouth opening as she spoke under her breath - almost subconsciously: “Let it be quick.”

A Jily Arranged Marriage AU in which Lady Lily never imagined she would fall for the husband she was forced to wed. Inspired by My Lady Jane.

I'm so excited about this, you guys don't understand!! Mary's writing is always phenomenal but her historical AUs have a very special place in my heart

all the king's horses, all the king's men by @jilyss

As queen, Lily Evans faces the suffocating weight of isolation and loneliness that comes with the crown. The only constant in her life is James Potter, her loyal and ever-watchful royal guard.

Wizarding Betrothal by pasmosa

Lily’s parents arranged her marriage to a wizard when she was born, and sealed the deal with a binding magical contract! Nobody counted on Lily choosing not to cooperate! Someone’s heart will get broken. Will it be her own?

oops I did it again by Anonymous

Annoyance, a deep, visceral annoyance that only Potter seems capable of generating, stirs up within her. Part of her still wants to storm out and away from him, another part wants to smack that smirk off his face, and a third very secret part that should never have existed in the first place can’t stop thinking about that photo, about her mouth on his, about his long fingers rucking up the hem of her shirt.

If she leaves now, she reasons, he’ll have gotten the last say, and that’d be absolutely no fair.

So she stalks over, plants her hands on her hips, and looks up at him. “Alright, new deal,” she says. “One kiss — one real kiss — and then you get it out of your system.”

(Spoiler alert: Neither of them gets anything out of their system.)

It's got everything you'd want from a uni AU

Literary Sophistication by @andromedabooks

Bookstore AU where an English girl enjoys Great American novels and her date has correct opinions regarding film adaptations

Customer In Law by @annabtg

James Potter is young, handsome, the proud owner of a coffee shop, and tragically - according to his mother - single. In an attempt to stop her from trying to set him up with her friends' daughters, he decides to go along with his best friend's plan and recruit his regular customer Lily Evans to play the part of his girlfriend during his mother's birthday party. Of course, the fact that he’s got a huge crush on her is entirely irrelevant…

The amount of pinning in this...

Golden Lights by PotterandEvans (on ao3)

James Potter, competition-winning figure skater has a crush, a crush on the redhead that works at his favourite coffee shop. When he finds out that she also teaches children how to skate on the weekends, he finds himself on the rink to join her.

throwing chances (requires an ao3 account) by @theroomofreq

prompt: “I’ve spent the summer climbing through your bedroom window so no one sees, please won’t you give me a chance?”

Or the one where both of them are early birds but Lily needs coffee

A Cashmere Christmas Miracle by @oyprongs

"Lily doesn’t really have an excuse for why she does it. It’s completely unprofessional - not that that matters much at her workplace - and probably constitutes some form of light stalking. But the jumper’s been in the bin at work for weeks, and she’s tired of tossing it aside whenever she clears out the other clothes, and Mary’s on holiday so she doesn’t have anyone dropping in to say hi, and she has to stress this: Lily’s job is very, very boring."

or Lily finds a jumper at her work's lost and found and decides to text the number stitched to the label.

This fic read like a recount a friend would text me and I mean this in the best way

Can't you see (you belong with me) by Boggarts_butterbeer (on ao3)

"I love your eyes" she says it so softly, so earnestly and his heart absolutely melts. "It was you" she carries on, resting her forehead on his, "it was going to be you all along"

he's about to say something (and it isn't going to be complete mush) when the door bangs open and they turn to Effie holding a tray of biscuits, absolutely grinning from ear to ear shouting "Fleamont, Oi Fleamont get your arse up here it's happened! it's finally happened, Oh and bring the camera!" and behind him is Sirius, recording the whole thing doubled over in laughter, and lily flushed red, hiding her face in his chest as he groans

Or Jily muggle au inspired by the You Belong with Me music video because it is the best video of all time- Lily pines secretly whilst James pines not so secretly

Because at my core I'm a friends to lovers girl

Covet Thy Neighbour by @beedaily

There are lots of ways to introduce oneself to a new neighbour, but breaking into their flat, perhaps, is a road less travelled.

Reunion also by @ /beedaily

The last person Lily expects to see at her law conference is the first boy she'd ever kissed.

Shout Out To My Ex series also by @ /wearingaberetinparis

James and Lily work for Phoenix Radio, a radio station that finds its existence threatened by the successful Riddle Radio. When asked to brainstorm an idea for a new show, Lily comes up with a show in which two exes discuss the aftermath of their break-up. Obviously, so Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall decide, she and James are perfect to play the part. The only problem? They never actually dated. A fake exes AU that leads to so much more drama than you might expect.

A Jily Modern AU inspired by Rachel Lynn Solomon’s "The Ex Talk".

The ending was just perfect

I Spy, I Spy With My Little Eye also by @ /wearingaberetinparis

Potter. James Potter. It sounds like a joke. It most certainly isn’t.

A Jily MI6 Spies AU in which James Potter and Lily Evans attempt to take down Tom Riddle.

Too Young to Have This Kind of Epiphany by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily's a badass legislative director at a climate non-profit. James is a sweet, funny, and gorgeous co-owner of Three Broomsticks, the cafe Lily's started visiting. They're kind of obsessed with each other (but also refuse to make a move).

her favourite regular by @arianatwycross

A little doe-mestic moment for our two love birds with a sprinkle of my favourite: coffee

The Phoenix: A Coffee Shop Story by hp_poppet_writer (on ao3)

Lily gets more than she bargained for at the new coffee place her roommate recommends.

Lily feels her mouth go dry. If this is the view, this tall, chiseled specimen with the perfect amount of scruff on his face, she would gladly drink a cup of the worst coffee in the world every day. Her caffeine-deprived, still-asleep, drooling brain manages to squeak out “coffee” as she continues to openly stare at him.

His smile turns into a smirk, hazel eyes lighting with a mischievous glint. He pushes his glasses up before responding.

my mind turns your life into folklore (i can’t dare to dream about you anymore) by petitecanard (on ao3)

Lily had not been the reigning belle for twenty miles around Cokeworth without learning to distinguish between a flirt and a man who was in earnest. She replied instantly: “I know very well that Lord Potter means nothing by his compliments! Indeed, I am in no danger of being taken-in like a goose. And I still think he is odious, and a toerag, and a bully, and – and everything of that sort!”

Or, when the impoverished Miss Lily Evans embarks to London to find a husband, she impetuously engages in a battle of wits with the eligible Lord James Potter.

Quintessential jily

moppet (requires an ao3 account) by @gryffindormischief

Sometimes it's the unexpected things you love the most (feat. singel dad James).

heuristic also by @ /gryffindormischief

Bad restaurants, texting, DDR, pet apartments, more texting, nachos, and bookstore dates, all normal in the early days of a relationship, right?

may i borrow some sugar by oneofthesirens

Lily sits up so fast she’s surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. She recognises him, vaguely, in that way that sometimes they pass in the street and awkwardly nod. He’s tall – really tall, and she definitely has not developed an obsession with that – and wears glasses that are either dorky in a cool way, or hipster in an uncool way. He’s kind of exactly her type which was the first thing Marlene had pointed out when she’d seen him in passing.

Her naked and, more importantly, oblivious neighbour spins around to grab something from behind him and Lily sees… well, everything. More than she wanted to and, at the same time, not enough at all.

So, she does what any reasonable, twenty-five-year-old girl would do; snatches her phone from the bedside table, pulls the duvet up above her head so her naked neighbour can’t see her looking, and texts her friends.

Or: Lily and James are semi-neighbours, somewhat acquaintances, and she might have hosted a pretend-party just to talk to him

The Return (requires an ao3 account) by cwannabe5 (on ao3)

When Lily returns to her old university town for a weekend reunion with her university friend group, she naively expects old feelings and relationship dynamics to stay where they belong: in the past. However, it becomes immediately clear to her that being drawn towards James isn't something she can run from forever, and in fact, if she can manage to admit it to herself, sometimes addressing the elephant in the room leads to a happy ending.

Also, (not so) reluctant bed-sharing.

Life and Lemons by @lovesickjily

Harry loves his parents dearly, but he would love it even more if they were together. He decides to play cupid in an effort to have a happy family.

[abitterberryblog]

TWOTM Emissa Corenius : An Over-Analyzation

Major The Will of the Many spoilers and random theories ahead !!

Okay, so when I first read The Will of the Many, I wasn’t reading properly, and I just kinda assumed that Emissa was just a kinda blandly written character in such a well-written world. That was, of course, until the whole twist thing. What I liked was that it wasn’t a complete 360, and that she didn’t end up as extremely bad, but flawed enough for me not to be annoyed with her existence, and for her to not seem like only a Mary Sue 'love interest' character.

The thing is, I don't think she is at all.

First of all, I’m starting this with an analyzation of her relationship with Vis, and her not-so-role as a ‘love interest’. Was it real? Was it fake? I think she eventually did grow to be fond over him after a while, but I’ve always known she was going to betray him somehow. Something about the vibes.

It all started with the glass of water at the infirmary. I know there’s a chance that maybe she’s just, idk, kind or whatever, but after the ending, I’m not so 100% sure.

Not only that, but Ulciscor  constantly nagging about how suspicious he was of her. (Normally I'd pass it off as Ulciscor  being obsessed and hyper-anxious about the mission thing, but this was Emissa, and that caught my interest.)

There’s a really fat chance that she was, somehow, working with Veridius. This does not mean that she’s evil or whatever, and I'm still trying to figure out of Veridius is good or not, but it does make her a lot more interesting and complex.

Towards the end of the Iudicium, Emissa uses Will. You can’t use Will during academy stuff without some sort of source, or somebody allowing to use it. It's simply not possible?? Veridius? He’s literally the Principalis of the academy, after all, and during the infirminary scene at the end of the book, its implied that the Principalis spoke with Emissa beforehand, when he says to Vis that ‘she’s distraught’ and tries convincing Vis to talk to her.

What I noticed in this book is that the author, James Islington, is very careful in what he keeps in the book. Details. Hints. No matter how small or useless they seem. There are MAJOR spoilers, but : Here's a funny example I found.

See? Everything is littered in little details to be explored upon later. Even something as simple as a background detail of Aequa flipping coins.

ALSO, and something that I don’t see talked about for some reason, is the fact that Emissa knows that Indol was planning to deflect from Military to Religion. Indol never told her this. He’s shocked that she knows. Guess who may know??? Veridius???? That's right!!!

The question is, why would Veridius tell Emissa this? No idea from me here. But something else during the Iudicium arc catches my attention, and it’s the fact that Veridius PRIVATELY tells everybody what prize they would get if they won the whole thing. As implied by Eidhin (after he cancels on the Iudicium thing for Vis’ sake), Veridius often tempts them with something they really, really badly want,  and something that would drive them to want to win. 

I’m surprised not many people talk about that scene where Emissa asks Vis for the Heart of Jovan in the Iudicium, so she could win. She’s upset by this, obviously, since she cries and stuff, but I notice that she says “I can’t let us get separated.”

When I first read, I assumed she was talking about Vis, but that wouldn’t make sense, since she basically stabbed him as he fell off a tower (?) like, five seconds later. And also, her and Vis being separated wouldn't be related to her winning the Iudicium, (unless she's in a scenario where she'll have to leave forever or something if she doesn't win, which isn't really likely), Which makes me wonder, who was she really talking about?

Hopefully, we’re find out in the next book. Someone she really cared about? Relative? Family member? Am I missing something? Will this be important?

After all, we don’t exactly 100% know why Veridius planted Vis near the Callidus-Eidhin punchy debacle. He obviously knew Vis would step in.

At first I wondered if he was trying to kick Vis out and expel him, which is probably more likely, but right now I’m running on four hours of sleep and I am high on theories.

I think I’ve read this theory somewhere on the Hierarchy subreddit, too, but what if Veridius planned this whole thing, not to expel Vis, but to plant Vis near the stables as his punishment, maybe for Emissa to keep an eye on him? Or woo him for secrets or whatever the fuck? 

At the very least, whether Veridius did purposely plant Vis there for that sole reason, or as an afterthought after Vis worms himself out with the Threefold Apology, I do think that Veridius did make Emissa watch over Vis on purpose.

Otherwise, I think it’ll be a little random with Emissa just casually joining Vis to scoop horse dung, and I do not care how cool or attractive or fascinating he may appear, I still think it’s important. Hopefully? And why do I think so, you may ask?

I do not really think Islington deliberately wanted Emissa and Vis to be like, endgame, endgame. Like, The EndgameTM.  Maybe Emissa was trying to get more information on him. I don't know. It’s plausible. Emissa is top of the academy after Indol, and besides Indol being of course the smartest (as told by Vis), Emissa is FAR smarter than most readers deem her to be. I don't think everything as simple as this. Emissa simply cannot be this blind and radiant and carefree. She isn't in a perfume ad. We've established, from the book itself, that twotm is LAYERS upon LAYERS and twist after twist.

First of all, I’m so sorry, but Emissa and Vis have like no chemistry (imo). They do have maybe like a teeny, tiny bit, but the thing is that Vis has more chemistry with LITERALLY every other character his age BESIDES Emissa. I know, I know, every writer isn’t perfect, but there’s something so suspicious about Emissa and Vis’ dynamic.

As mentioned once on a Hierarchy Series subreddit post, Emissa and Vis have a strange dynamic that is unlike the others characters. With literally every single other character/friendship/relationship that Vis is in, there are details of each interaction, each feeling Vis has with them, what they do, bla bla bla, snippets of the scene, dialogue, ect.

But with Emissa, it’s sort of just…speedran? Like, besides the whole Suus island romance debacle and theatrics, their interactions just sort of go…

“Emissa visited me in the stables and we talked. For a long time. She helped me. She's nice. Also, her eyes are really green.” 

“Emissa sometimes studied with Callidus and I in the morning, sometimes not. Blablabla, she’s great and funny.”

“Emissa talked with me during Suus after noticing that I was uncomfortable with the politician people, blabla. ”

“Emissa and I trained together. In Three. Emissa helped me study. In Three. Wow, she makes me smile. Haha.”

Obviously, I'm exaggerating, but I'm definitely NOT wrong. Open the book and reread it. I DARE you to tell me I'm wrong.

See, there’s no real scene with them. Is it just me who noticed this? Just a time jump where Vis summarizes everything he did with her and how awesome and fun it was. There’s no way an author, writing a book with this much description and detail, just fumbles a romance by writing it like this.

NOT ONLY THAT, but even the CONFESSION scene isn’t anything as theatric as the rest of the book. Not even a SMIDGEN. Even the whole kiss can be easily forgotten. It’s not some dramatic confession. It's not romantic. It's not even sweet and heart-warming in that subtle, simple way. It's just a really lukewarm 'maybe i like you' and then boom, and it's over in an instant.

Vis mentions Indol and the secret that Emissa accidentally exposes of Indol, and then Emissa (suspiciously) changes the topic to how much she likes Vis and kisses Vis. And then boom, romance. A quick end scene, as if it wasn't ever important.

Isn’t it like, hella SUSPICIOUS? She changed the topic. Kissed him. Distracted him. And then the scene ended like it wasn't a whole Vis-Developing, Emissa-Developing, HUGE relationship moment.

Which, yeah, maybe she did like him at some point, but it sure as hell is convenient, isn’t it? I’m super invested in her character now, which is ironic because I used to not be able to STAND her because I just thought her character was just a really poorly written love interest.

I’m convinced Islington has the writer ability to write a confession/kiss scene much better, and much less random than that. Which means that I really don’t think he INTENDED to make hearts swoon. Just to distract.

Emissa is very fascinating, and few people acknowledge that, and I am EXTREMELY excited for The Strength of the Few to release.

[gothamite-rambler]

A Mother’s Voice (Batfamily Chronicles Microfiction Series)

A/N: Just a fun twist – I made Crystal an Irish Catholic woman. She’s not working for Cluemaster, and while she wasn’t always there for Stephanie growing up, she’s present now and knows her daughter is Spoiler. I haven’t included the part about Stephanie having a baby yet; sorry for that!

Spoiler stood before the hulking figure of Bane, surrounded by the chaos of her family battling Arkham’s notorious criminals. Fatigue weighed on her limbs, the pain radiating through her body palpable as blood trickled from her nose. Trembling, she felt the creeping edge of surrender.

Spoiler (weakly, muttering): Dang it... I can't keep going.

Just then, a voice broke through her comms—one that wasn’t Oracle.

Crystal: Stephanie, darlin'?

Spoiler: M-Ma?

Crystal (her Irish accent unmistakable): That’s me. No need to pretend. I figured out ye were Spoiler years ago. I worried about ye, until I remembered one thing. Ye're my daughter.

Spoiler (dodging a punch from Bane): Ma, leave! You don’t want to hear me lose.

Bane (mocking Spoiler and unaware she's alive): Talking to your mother in the sky won't save you.

Crystal (firmly): Stephanie Bridget Brown, I may not have raised ye as I should have, but I've seen the strength you've found. This isn't ye givin' up—ye fought to get here!

Spoiler (voice wavering): But I—

Batman: Oracle, why is there a civilian in there with you?

Crystal (shouting): Ah, pipe down, Batman, or I’ll give ye a one-two! I’m talkin’ to Spoiler, not ye!

Batman (not wanting to anger the woman): Okay, then. Continue on, person who shouldn’t be on the comms!

Taking a hesitant step back from Bane, Spoiler felt the warmth of her mother’s words wrap around her like a lifeline.

Spoiler (protesting): I can't do this!

Bane loomed menacingly, taunting her to surrender as he approached, his intent clear. Spoiler tried to block out what he was saying as she stood her ground, but her wavering confidence caused her knees to tremble with fear.

Crystal (urgently): Can’t? That’s not the Steph I know! Ye became a hero to spite yer father. Ye’ve donned that mask twice to prove yerself to Batman. Why should this limp-dicked man win?

Spoiler (whispering): He... won't win.

Crystal: Exactly! No man will beat you. An’ my apologies for usin’ the devil's tongue, but stand on yer feet, straighten yer back, prepare yer stance, and get ready to kick arse! Ye were born a fighter! Ye are God's child, gifted by me! I have not seen ya once give up, ya bloody gave me a reason to stay strong. Ye’ve fought worse men—this roided-out wrestler won’t be the one to put ye down!

With a surge of renewed strength, Spoiler stood tall, raising her fist and delivering a crushing blow to Bane, sending him reeling.

Spoiler (determination blazing in her eyes): He won’t win!

Bane (scratching his head): What is happening?

Crystal (encouraging): Aye! Stand on business, and ye will not let Cluemaster, Batman, or any man win! For God says so through me!

Spoiler (shouting): YEAH!

Crystal (proclaiming): AMEN! NOW GO KICK SOME ARSE!

The renewed energy coursed through her, and Spoiler charged into battle, handing Oracle her comm.

With a leap, she soared over Bane, wrapping her arms around his neck. As he tried to seize her, she bit his hand. He swatted her back, but she landed on her feet.

Spoiler (taunting): Come and get me, Nacho Libre!

Bane (angry): I resent that statement!

With a swift spin kick, Spoiler sent him crashing to the ground.

Spoiler: Now, who's the damsel?

She pressed her shoe down on the man’s neck.

Bane: I will not—

Spoiler: Oh, shut up!

With a strong kick, she knocked him unconscious.

Spoiler (ready to take on the next inmate): All right, who's next?!

Charging forward, she took down several foes, with Crystal watching proudly from the sidelines. The Robins observed in stunned silence, partially horrified by the ferocity of the scene unfolding before them.

Crystal (grin): Thanks for invitin’ me, Steph’s friend.

Oracle (unfazed): You snuck in, but it was worth it. I thought you were working for her father.

Crystal (smirk): Not in this canon, love.

With a wave, she stepped away, entered the elevator and left Oracle's secret office.

Oracle: Cool.

Babs placed the earpiece back in her ear and pressed a button.

Oracle: Hey, Batman, Crystal left, and Spoiler didn’t get her back broken like you thought she would.

A groan emanated from Batman, clearly annoyed.

[dairy-farmer]

That ask about public incest being normalized has gotten me thinking: an AU where the pecking order is instinctually determined via sex. Who can mount who.

-

Try as he might, Tim just can’t seem to move up the ranks.

Bruce fucks him almost clinically. Mostly to reaffirm his place at the top, to remind Tim that he’s in charge when he thinks Tim is getting out of line, picking unnecessary fights with his brothers, or not obeying their “reasonable” orders. (He’s above you in rank, Timothy. If you don’t want to have to listen to him, then maybe you should mount him.) He’s thorough and deliberate, but almost impersonal about it in a way. It’s his duty as the head of the family.

Dick fucks Tim slowly and lovingly, though firmly, to remind Tim that he’s part of the family, that he belongs to them. He takes Tim whenever he catches Tim hiding an injury or not taking care of himself. To keep Tim from withdrawing. A reminder and an order. Often times it’s fun and playful, which Tim enjoys most.

Jason mounts him roughly and often. Whenever he needs to let off steam. To keep the Replacement in his place, not that he ever gives Tim time to forget it. Whenever Jason even imagines that Tim is challenging him, or thinks he’s mouthing off. If he even catches sight of Tim on his really bad days. If he’s annoyed at Bruce. He makes Tim kneel under the table at his feet every time he comes to family dinner. When he’s frustrated with a case. If he’s just plain bored. And without fail, every time Bruce takes Jason, Jason makes a beeline to Tim and bends him over and mounts him hard and fast. Sometimes he toys with Tim, letting him think he might actually win, but it always ends the same way. Tim thinks he might spend as much time under Jason as he does talking to him.

Damian takes him fast and quick, almost as aggressively as Jason. He ambushed Tim the first few times, pinning and mounting him before Tim even realized he was there. He really shot up in size during puberty, and now that he’s outgrown Tim, he’s difficult to pin in return. Damian also takes his frustration out on Tim, and likes to remind Tim of his status. Growing up in the League left him with certain expectations.

Tim has never tried challenging Cass, but luckily she doesn’t take him often, preferring to watch. Sometimes she’ll ride his face when she needs control in her life, but at least that’s a nice change from getting fucked by his brothers.

It even extends to costumes, though not as much as it’s dangerous to get too distracted.

Batman will only ever fuck his throat and has him swallow it all down (to not leave DNA evidence). He mostly leaves Red alone unless he catches him doing something stupidly risky or disobeying his orders.

Nightwing is much the same, preferring to take him in the cave where he can stretch Red out on the mats or have fun on the ropes course. Nightwing prefers keeping it light and fun when he’s in costume, and mainly leaves Red alone in the field.

Robin follows in both his mentors’ footsteps. He will not allow himself to become distracted in the field by the likes of Drake. (Only at home)

Hood, though, is a bit closer to his civilian identity than the others. He’ll hunt him down on patrol if he really wants him. He’ll happily bend him over a skylight on slow nights. If he catches Red close enough to his territory, he’s been known to actually drag him in and fuck him where his people can see. Tim says it undermines Red Robin, but Jason insists it helps keep crime down; his people seeing him mount a Bat. (Tim has run the numbers. Jason is right. Jason has no idea that’s true-he just said it so Bruce would stop bitching about him distracting Red).

(Spoiler sometimes ambushes him on slow nights too.)

-

Tim (and Red Robin) has never really been able to rise in the ranks. Once, Tim was seconds away from taking Damian, but Jason came by and pulled Tim off and mounted him then and there, while Damian then took his mouth. Jason thought it was funny, laughing while Damian gloated as they used Tim. Dick, with his soft spot for Damian, also helped him sometimes, especially at first. Letting Damian pin Tim right after Dick was finished with him without giving him a chance to get up, and giving Damian a thorough demonstration on how to get Tim down.

It’s not fair. Dick and Jason have both fucked each other, and he’s even caught Dick letting Damian take him on occasion (how else is he going to learn, baby bird? He needs to have more experience than just you!), but nobody ever goes easy on him. Anytime he gets close to winning someone else seems to come by and step in and then he’s suddenly under both at once.

The rest of them have a slightly more fluid pecking order, but Tim is just so fun to fuck (and fuck with). They have an unspoken agreement to step in if it ever seems like he might actually win. Everyone feels more secure knowing they will never be at the bottom, knowing that at least one person in their life has to listen to them. They all know Tim’s proper place and they will keep him there.

yessss!!!!!!!!!yesssss!! this is so good!!!! an established pecking order that is maintained and determined by who is mounted and poor tim being at the very bottom of that order because of sabotage from his family that never lets him rise up because they all find a comfort in knowing that THEY will never be at the bottom and that THEY all at least have some power and control in their lives because they know that at least, at any time of day, they can fuck tim to remind themselves of the control they have even with a control freak like bruce for a father.

i LOVE that bruce would be the most clinical about it. he does it more as procedure, making sure to work in a weekly mounting with tim no matter how busy he is because bruce has learned his lesson about allowing people in the family to go too long without being mounted. if only he'd been as diligent with jason and dick as he had with tim then maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way they did with them. so when bruce has tim and sees tim beginning to try and stretch his wings out and test his limits as robin- well bruce makes sure to mount him. sure, tim was a little young but maybe if bruce had started mounting dick and jason when they were younger they would still be alive or talking to him. for the longest time tim was the only family member around and whenever things got slightly unstable or bruce was scrambling for control because his personal life and professional life was out of whack he'd mount tim. being robin initially had been made harder because of that because it seemed like bruce's struggle with reining in violence also translated to him roughly mounting tim. eventually he calmed down. he got less...mean about mounting tim and pretty soon it tapered off to only weakly or occasional mountings from him.

with dick too. as nice as he became with tim and was gentle when mounting him, he still also had his phase of waking tim up from a deep slumber to press into him and whisper about how its okay and tim could go back to sleep, dick just needed to do this. those times almost always coincided with bruce and dick having another fight which involved bruce storming off to patrol early and returning when dick had already left. unluckily for tim though it would mean bruce mounting him and shoving his cock into tim's tender hole and grunting at the thick spurt of dick's cum that would get pushed out.

jason hardly waiting for the family the open their arms in welcome before he was mounting tim. often he and tim would get into arguments that would end with jason grunting and fucking tim harshly into the floor, stairs, or roof of wherever their spat was all while tim just huffed, irritated, and swearing he'd get jason the next time.

damian is arguably tim's hardest pill to swallow because he was cheating!!! he was getting help from dick and jason who would gang up on tim and hold him open, allowing for damian to press his baby cock all the way inside and hastily mount tim. it would barely be longer than a minute or two because damian was young and he came fast but tim would still be stuck with the indignity and shame of having damian's cum drip down his inner thigh. but then damian gets a growth spurt, grows bigger and now he doesn't need jason or dick's help to mount tim. once he realizes he can mount tim whenever he wants to, he makes it his mission to try and mount tim as often as he can....though that might just be damian working off sexual frustration brought on by puberty by using tim.

tim!!!! just being placed at the bottom of the pecking order by his brothers who would greatly prefer to not be in his place and because they love the ease of being able to fuck him and knowing he will always be there ready to take a cock.

[humornaut]

Sunny and Daisies

Hey everyone! I think this post will be a bit shorter, but recently, I've been thinking about some of the flowers that appear in Omori that we are never really given an explicit meaning for, and I wanted to talk about something that has come up. Omori spoilers ahead!

So! Obviously, based on the title, you know that the thing I want to talk about here is the use of the daisy in-game. We see it a couple of times in Sunny's dreams, and it's clear that they are associated with Basil. One appears in the Rain Area of Black Space, next to Stranger, where he talks about how Sunny was always someone that he could depend on.

And then, when you get to Neighbor's Bedroom in the Omori route, you will have a daisy, rather than a sunflower, in the lineup of all the friend's flowers.

Finally, Home for Flowers (Daisy) is the version of Basil's theme that plays just prior to the truth segment.

So, where does this association come from?

The first thing to note is that when Basil talks about sunflowers, he never says that he is a sunflower, only that he wants to be like a sunflower. The second thing to note is that in the game itself, there is no indication in the real world at any point that Basil ever assigned the daisy to himself. Some people say that the flower he wears in his hair is a pink daisy, but Basil's flower clip does not match up with how daisies are depicted in-game or in art, mostly due to the number of petals.

There isn't really any evidence for this one way or the other, but I personally believe that this is an association that Sunny himself made at some point, and that Basil doesn't even know about it. Like sunflowers, daisies can represent loyalty, and they have other meanings as well, such as innocence or purity.

However, the most relevant meaning, in my opinion, is its Victorian meaning representing the "ability to keep a secret".

Now, there is one big reason that Sunny would associate Basil with keeping a secret in the modern day, and I assume that that isn't something that I have to mention here. However, Sunny already notes Basil as someone that enjoys keeping secrets. Take a look at Memory Lane:

In the Treehouse Memory, Basil revels in his winning hand, and teases the others with his secret.

In the Beach Memory, we are given an example of Basil taking a picture of Aubrey without her knowledge, which is something that he prefers overall, as mentioned a couple times in the game.

In the Picnic Memory, we see Basil planning to hide a flaw with one of his photos (Hector's poop in the background) so that he can still include it in the photo album.

In the Rainy Day Memory, he of course promises to keep Sunny's crush on Aubrey a secret.

In the Birthday Memory, he teases the others by refusing to tell them what his wish is for.

And finally, in the Christmas Memory, we find out that Sunny's violin was actually Basil's idea in the first place, and that he successfully kept this a secret from Sunny even as the entire group was working the entire Summer to save up for it.

I'm not sure that Basil would ever assign a flower to himself based on his love of secrets, but Sunny's repeated memories of it make it likely that he would assign it to him, especially since Basil seemingly refused to assign a flower to himself.

This has all been pretty straightforward, but I want to hop into some possible connections that I've never seen discussed. Bear with me, because this link is going to sound tenuous at first.

First, take a look at the way the daisy in the Rain Area is referred to:

If we hop into the sorting minigame in the Omori route, one of the things we find this:

I promise this isn't as insane as it sounds I hope

So, most of the things that we go through in the sorting minigame have a direct link in Headspace. The similar wording is interesting, but my attention would not have been drawn to it if there weren't something more.

Let's rewind way back to the beginning of the game, during the prologue.

One of the first quests that the player is able to access (and I believe the only quest that the player can start while Basil is still in the party during the prologue) is entitled "Daisy's Dilemma". It can be and usually is completed during the prologue. Daisy is looking for some help in finding a gift that she can gift to her crush. When you get to Otherworld, you will find the "Flower Puzzle", which you can then give to her to pass on to Neb, her crush.

Ignoring the obvious implications of having such a quest so early on in the game with what we will later learn about daisies, I want to take a look at the puzzle itself.

The description of the puzzle in your inventory calls it "A perfect combination of flower and puzzle". The word "perfect" is of note here, with the very specific use of it throughout the game, especially as it pertains to Basil. But more than that: take a look at the icon for it:

The puzzle piece on the right, to me, pretty clearly shows a daisy, which leaves us with little triangle of evidence including a flower puzzle depicting a daisy given to a crush in Headspace by someone that loves flowers named Daisy, a single daisy depicted next to Stranger in Black Space (along with other evidence in the game linking Basil to Daisies), and a single puzzle piece that can be found among Sunny's belongings during the Omori route.

I realize that this may be a stretch to some, but I absolutely see this triangle of daisies and puzzles to be intentional.

So, is there anything else going on here that we should take note of?

Well, Daisy doesn't appear to have a direct analogue in the real world. You might be able to say she represents Bebe, who is said to have bad taste in men, and we see develop a crush on the Maverick throughout the real world sections of the game. I do find this a little unlikely, as Bebe seems unaware who the Maverick is at all, and doesn't seem to have any connection to Angel, who is represented by Neb.

Now Neb is very interesting. He clearly is representative of Angel, but it's kind of hard to tell due to their differences in personalities. To my knowledge, Angel is never really associated with puzzles in the real world, though he is pretty immature overall, and spends time at Hobbeez and enjoys games. The fact that his name is "Neb" is something that I find interesting, though, as this makes him the only one on the playground, based on a real person from Sunny's life, who's name seems irrelevant to his namesake.

I've wondered for awhile what the reason for this was. Recently, I discovered that one of the definitions for neb refers to a snout or nose. As luck would have it, there is another playground kid that is named Nose!

So Nose is one of only three of the playground kids that do not appear to be based off of a real person, including her best friend Bun, and the aforementioned Daisy. Like some of the others, she is based off of one of Sunny's plushies, though her and Bun do not appear to also be influenced by the younger tutoring kids in the same way Brows, Bangs, and Happy are. If you take a look at the photo album, you will find Nose in one of the pictures, being cuddled by both Aubrey and Basil.

And let's also take a look at some of the few lines of dialogue for Nose and Bun:

The term "best friend" has some pretty specific usage throughout the game. While Sunny himself appears to apply the term generally to his friend group, the real Basil is only ever shown to use it when referring to Sunny. Not to mention, the way that Bun is talking here is very reminiscent of the first few pictures of the photo album, in which Basil refers to Sunny as his best friend, as well as shy.

After playing hide and seek, Bun and Nose will play patty cake together.

The reason this is so interesting is due to the implications later on that Sunny himself was involved in the making of Basil's birthday cake, or at least learned the recipe for it at some point.

And there are some surface level similarities between Sunny and Angel that could've resulted in Angel being the one to play this role in Headspace. Both are the youngest in their respective friend groups, and Angel is seemingly raised by an overbearing older sister, with his parents nowhere in sight. He even has a "Foe Factx!" journal in his room that you can find, similar to the one that Sunny has in his dreams.

None of these characters really have a whole lot to say other than what we've gone over, but I also want to bring up the item that you get for completing this quest.

She gives you a Daisy charm, which allows the wearer to start the battle happy. I'm not sure it means much, but the two other charms that make the wearer happy are the Heart String and the Wedding Ring, which both use some fairly romantic imagery, and are easily missed by most players. The Heart String is available in the room in Humphrey in which you are chased by the cat monster thing. This is also the same room where you can get the blender item for Hero (relevant due to the smoothies being organized by Basil's tastes). This probably isn't an intentional connection, but it is also soon after the Branch Coral, which includes the line about Basil and Sunny being "tied by a string of fate". The Wedding Ring is of course given to the player by Spaceboy at the end of the Omori route.

Now, you might find a lot of this to be a little bit out there, especially with the connection to the puzzle piece that Sunny has in his belongings. However, I hope that this has at least shown that there is likely a connection between this first side quest that you can take and Basil.

Finally, while real world Basil is never depicted with daisies in-game, he is shown with one in some post-release official art.

The birthday pictures, and especially this last one for Basil's birthday, are notable for including pink daisies rather than white ones. Relying too much on flower meanings is kind of rough because most flowers have a lot of different possible meanings, and I don't like using art from outside of the game, since it really shouldn't be taken as canon, but I have seen that pink daisies can be given to someone to confess your feelings, and I believe that this birthday picture was the 143rd post to the Omori Instagram page, though don't quote me on that.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Bridgerton Season 3 Part 2 Thoughts

So I have now watched and then rewatched part 2 of Bridgerton season 3, again like part 1, I really enjoyed these episodes and I can now says that I enjoyed the season overall. I will say that I think the second half felt a little more rushed, and there were some writing choices I wasn't a huge fan of, but as a whole it was a solid season. So here are my thoughts on part 2, as I said before my part one thoughts I have not read the books so I went into this blind and my reaction is based entirely on the show alone, also spoilers obviously.

I loved the scene were colin and penelope announced their engagement to the bridgertons. Penelope looked so nervous as they were going in, and it was clear she was worried about their reaction, so it was so sweet and moving when you see how overjoyed they are and how welcoming they are of penelope. Well everyone but Eloise but then she knows about Penelope being whistledown and so is understandably worried about colin's heart getting broken.

I also did find it kind of amusing that the featheringtons, and benedict found out throw lady whistledown and that Anthony and Kate found out right before they were about to announce that they were expecting and then realised they couldn't. On the subject...

KANTHONY BABY LETS GO! Seriously though I was so happy to find out they have a little one on the way.

Another moment I loved was when Colin called out Lady Featherington. I did think that Lady Featherington was being more than a bit hypocritical in the moment before when she accused Penelope of entrapping Colin, as if in season 1 she wasn't actively helping marina entrap Colin or any other gentleman they could and as if she herself didn't orchestrate a scenario with prudence to entrap cousin jack into marriage in season 2. So yeah I am glad Colin called her out on it and on how she has overlooked penelope all this time. But I also think Lady Feathrington's reaction to it was interesting because for the second time this season we actually see her showing guilt and actually having a conscience and reflecting on her words and actions which I just found really interesting to watch, I loved her arc this season.

The polin mirror/couch scene was 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥! No notes, perfect, loved the comunication they had throughout, making sure the other was ok with everything that was happening.

The scene between Kanthony where he is laying on her belly was just too precious. And of course seeing Newton is always a win.

Speaking of precious, John Stirling and Francesca talking about marriage whilst out walking and how after he asks if she wants to be married and she says yes but she hopes her husband doesn't hide her piano stool and he has that slip up and says he wouldn't dream of it, clearly showing he is already imagining himself as her husband. Not only that but I love that John loves Francesca for her she is, he wouldn't care if she did wake him up early hours of the morning playing her piano, he wouldn't begrudge her, because her love for piano and music is part of the reason why he loves her.

Another thing I did like was how Lady Featherington did defend Penelope to her sisters and said Featherintons support one another, but it was very telling how Prudence and Phillipa react to this, it just shows how much these women have pitted and competed against each other. I did love the whole plotline of them all coming back together again though, like Lady Featherington helping Penelope with her wedding and prudence actually saying nice things to penelope and how penelope gives money for her sister's to have the ball they want.

I could understand what Cressida's whole plan of revealing herself as lady whistledown was, and what she was hoping for, an escape from her parents and the marriage they were trying to set up for her, but this plan backfired really fast for her. The whole thing did make me feel really sorry for Cressida, obviously I was not ok with her blackmailing Penelope but I could fully understand that she was desperate and looking for a way out. She also didn't have anybody in her corner, she was completely alone really.

This might be a very unpopular opinion, and I do want to preface t by saying I do still love eloise, but that being said, there were times this season when I don't think she was a very good friend and where she rubbed me the wrong way. Namely when after she sought penelope's help with the whole cressida pretending to be Lady Whistledown thing and the result was Colin finding out and then Eloise was kind of like, not my problem about it after but also how she abandoned Cressida after she faked being Whistledown, like Eloise one, knew that Cressida wasn't really Whistledown but also two, knew what Cressida was going through with her parents trying to force her to marry, so I would have thought Eloise would have had more sympathy for her. Obviously I know this comes from how she was faced with scandal last season and wants to aviod it again and how she is still angry with penelope but I still wasn't a huge fan of her behaviour in these instances.

Speaking of Colin finding out that Penelope is Whistledown, that was a tough one to watch, I felt so bad for both of them, they were both so heartbroken. Colin's 'I will never forgive you' was harsh but I can understand why he was so angry. But I didn't like how later when she asks if he's going to call off the wedding he says he won't because they were intimate and that accuses her of entrapping him, like sir, you were the one who initiated it. Penelope was a willing participant for sure but he was the one who took her to the mirror and began to undress her etc. Again understand he was angry but still.

But their little dance in the church earlier in the episode was absolutely adorable.

Another scene that I thought was kind of sad though, was the conversation between Penelope and her mother about how Ladies don't have dreams they have husbands. It goes to show how their society puts so little worth in the Ladies of the ton, outside of marriage. They put all this pressure on them to marry and have children and yet it seems so many of them wish for more than that.

You know what though, the Polin wedding was beautiful. I was a little sad running up to it because they were both so upset and I was worried it was going to be a kind of angsty, sad affair. But the look on Colin's face when he saw Penelope in her wedding dress, you could see how in love with her he was, he was just in awe. I also loved that moment when Penelope hesitates coming down the aisle, she's looking around anxiously at all the people staring at her and you can see she's becoming overwhelmed, but then she locks eyes with Colin and he gives her that little smile and a nod and you can see her get her confidence back and she smiles back and continues down the aisle. I really appreciated that moment and how throughout the wedding they showed that these two people do genuinely love each other no matter what issues they are currently dealing with.

Also penelope looked absolutely stunning in her wedding dress and I love that she was walked down the aisle by her mother, Portia looked so proud of her too, I also thought it was nice to see both Eloise and Prudence get emotional when watching Polin get married, there's this moment after Polin are announced husband and wife, where you can see prudence clapping and looking overjoyed and Eloise is crying. It was interesting to see these two in particularly being moved by the ceremony because they've both had some tension with Penelope this season, eloise because of her anger and prudence because of her jealousy. But here they look genuinely happy for her and I just loved that.

Portia finding out about Penelope being lady whistledown was interesting because as angry as she was I do think she was genuinely scared for penelope and how cressida was blackmailing her and whether that would lead to colin asking for annulment. The scene where they tell Colin and Eloise about the blackmail was this strange mix of frustrating and humour, except I don't think it was supposed to have that humorous element. But it was frustrating how both Colin and Portia were talking over Penelope and making all the decisions for her, again I do think this comes from their worry but it was still frustrating to see them not listening to Penelope. But also I can't deny it was kind of funny when Penelope revealed that she has made over 10,000 pounds through whisltedown, especially when you think back to the struggles Portia went through with them almost ending up penniless, to be fair to Penelope its not like she knew how close to penniless they were. I also found it kind of funny how colin was all I will fix this and in the end he just made it worse.

Benedict is bisexual and experiences his first throuple. Honestly this wasn't surprising to me at all. I kind of suspected he was from the moment he met that painter and went to that house party in season 1. So good for him. Although I will say that his threesome was cut and edited kind of oddly, I feel like instead of splitting it up they should have just kept it as one complete scene, because they way they cut it between different scenes kept throwing me off, everyone else's lives are falling apart and then there was Benedict having the time of his life. I think the constant shifts in tone from people having very serious conversation to Benedict having some fun, sexy times was a bit jarring, but hey maybe that was just me. `

I loved seeing Penelope and Eloise coming back together during their conversation while they were waiting for Colin, it just felt so good to see them laughing together again.

It was interesting learning more about Danbury's past and about her relationship with her brother and why she was so angry with him, that scene where they have it out, so to speak, and resolve their differences was another great moment. There were alot of moments like this in the season where people who had been at odds with each other and had broken relationships, found their way back to each other. I would say the theme of this season was very much about healing and reuniting with your loved ones.

Portia and Penelope had some great conversations this season but my favourite has to be the one right after Penelope walks in on Portia's conversation with the Solicitor and learns about Portia stealing the tons money. I think it was a very open and vulnerable conversation for them both and some very good points were made. I also love how we can see how impressed and proud Portia is of Penelope for building something that was entirely her own.

I loved Penelope's speech that she makes when she is revealed as Lady Whistledown. Not going to lie I did get a little emotional and teary eyed over it, just a 10/10 speech. I am also glad that they didn't have Penelope give up Whistledown, though I should think it'll be harder for her to get gossip now, if I were a member of the ton and I caught a glimpse of penelope nearby at a ball I would immediately stop talking about anything scandalous, but then I guess people won't care about spreading other people's gossip.

Ok so now we're at a part that I didn't like. I could be reading into this all wrong but it seemed like when Francesca met John's cousin Mikaela there was some kind of romantic energy there. Here's why I am not a fan of this. Throughout the whole season I have loved the relationship between John and Francesca and the reason why I thought it was a beautiful love story was because it was so different, it had this quietness about it, I suppose the word is, it wasn't your usual sparks fly at first sight type situation. Throughout the season we've had Violet talking about how she thinks Francesca needs someone more outgoing, someone who is kind of the opposite to her and who can pull her out of her shell, and how people in love should have this profound, passionate moment when they meet and fall in love. To me it seemed like through Francesca and her opposition of all that they were telling as that this didn't necessarily have to be true, that the loud, passionate, spark filled love is the only one way to love and sometimes you can have a more simplistic love, as Violet said their is a beauty in the slow approach. This was something I wholeheartedly agreed with and I loved that for once a tv show was exploring this option for a change. I feel like tv shows and films have tricked women all around the world into believing that if you don't have that first initial spark then that's not the person for you, when in reality love and attraction can grow over time as you get to know a person. I can not tell you the amount of times I have seen a friend pass on a perfectly nice guy with the statement of 'he's nice, there's nothing wrong with him, but there just wasn't a spark.' I blame the media industry, I really do. But anyway coming back from the tangent, they built this beautiful, simple love story where two introverted people met, understood each other and fell in love, then in the last ten minutes of the season torpedoed it, in like a couple of minutes flat. Because then Francesca meets extroverted, confident Mikaela, you know Francesca's opposite who can pull her out of her shell that she's perfectly happy being in, and sparks instantly fly and Francesca is fumbling over her words and blushing. I just feel like this one moment negates everything that came before and everything they said about the slow approach being something that can also be beautiful. It cheapens John and Francesca's relationship so much and then there was that weird look Francesca had when they kissed at their wedding, so now it looks like they are trying to say their marriage was some big mistake. I don't know maybe its because I am an introvert myself who got tired of being told I should come out of my shell more often but I just didn't like this plot point. But I guess I'll have to reserve my full judgement until I see the rest of their story in following seasons, but as it stands at the moment I was not impressed with this writing choice.

I loved the ending with them showing that Colin was now a published writer, Penelope was still successful with Whistledown and that all three sisters had babies. As I predicted Prudence and Phillipa had girls and Penelope and Colin had a little boy who will be the future Lord Featherington, but I just liked that scene with all the featherington women together and they're all happy for each other and admiring their little ones.

So that's all my thoughts on part 2, I really loved this season and Polin's relationship, I wish we had seen a bit more of Kanthony, I do find it said that it seems like once their story is told the couples from previous season's are sort of phased out, like we didn't see daphne at all this season and with them sending Anthony and Kate to India I suspect they won't be in next season, I hope they are but I am doubtful. I guess it so they can make room for the new storylines but still I miss those characters. Anyway I am going to stop rambling now.

[lonelyskeletonflower]

Scar-crossed Lovers

my very first serious fanfiction, in English nonetheless lol. I wrote this last night after uni fueled by the power of hyperfixations (FOB's music) and the fact that I miss playing BG3 (I'm stuck + no time to play because of uni)

1,5k; spoilers for the end of the game. transmasc tav (they/them). based on FOB lyrics. hurt no comfort (okay a bit of comfort)

It was a rare, calm night, after a long, tiring day. The sky was clear, and the moon was big and comforting. The stars seem to shine brighter, lately, Astarion thought, as he lowered his gaze to look at the big wolf getting chased by Scratch around the camp. The big wolf, his druid boyfriend. He allowed a soft smile to form on his lips, knowing that the other companions were busy, except for Karlach, who was watching the wolf and the dog play with a delighted expression. Her presence next to him definitely wasn’t the reason why he felt so warm inside, despite his condition. No, that warmth in his chest and the exceptional brightness of the stars those nights were caused by his blooming feelings for Kieran, who had just sat next to him, panting, still in wolf form.

“Are you done playing for tonight, darling?” he asked, stretching his hand out to pet the wolf’s fluffy head. Kieran replied with a sweet canine smile, wagging their tail.

Sweet. Yes. Kieran was, indeed, quite sweet. And not just that; they were many things. Brave, for instance, always ready to face any danger on their path, and fierce in battle, and strong, and attractive, and compassionate, smart, sensitive, loyal, caring, good. Astarion hated how much of a good person they were, it was almost nauseating, at least when they first met. He knew people had taken advantage of their goodness their entire life, Kieran had told him about it with a pained smile on their pretty face, and yet the druid never really strayed from being good, from the desire to do good, to help people, even when they didn’t deserve it. That didn’t mean, though, that being used like that didn’t leave any emotional scars on their soft soul, and that was what made them strong. He hated and loved that at the same time. He loved Kieran, as reluctant as he was to admit it, even to himself. He’d never expected that, in the process of getting the druid to fall for him and win their protection, he would catch feelings for them, but there he was, in love with someone so infuriatingly good at heart.

He wasn’t the only one, of course, who felt something for the redhead. Kieran was so lovable and loving, they’d been with Karlach, and Wyll, and even Lae’zel couldn’t resist them, and he saw the way Shadowheart looked at them; Halsin, too, had let them know that they could drop by his tent anytime, and not just to talk about the Oak Father and other druid things. Nevertheless, Kieran longed for him. Astarion. The kind-hearted hero wanted to give their love to him, who was no hero and definitely not much of a good person. The fact that he refused to share them with anybody else, someone good like them, was certainly proof of his selfishness.

He petted the wolf some more, then wished Karlach good night and got up to go to his tent, followed by the wolf. They snuggled up together in Astarion’s bedroll.

“Could you stay like this, tonight?” asked Astarion. Kieran answered by wagging their tail.

It was much easier to be alone with his thoughts at night without seeing that sweet face in the dark. Even in the dark their goodness made them glow, a light as painful as the sun before the tadpole. But could he really live without light again?

“Dream sweet of me” he whispered, gently scratching the wolf between the ears. Kieran licked his cheek. Soon enough, they were softly snoring.

Astarion sighed. At first, he had thought they only desired his body, they were infatuated with that handsome face (he didn’t need to see his reflection to know that, because nothing could change his beauty… right?), just like his victims; but Kieran had shown him that they genuinely loved him for him, handsome face and nice body and perfect hair and scars and selfishness and dark past and being a vampire and- they loved everything about him, good and bad. They believed in his goodness, although he doubted there was any left in him, after everything Cazador had put him through.

He kept going back to that first night with the druid, after the party, how they went straight to his tent instead of spending the night with Karlach, or Lae’zel, or Halsin, and how they kept coming back, how they kept choosing him over everybody else. Kieran was pretty messed up, too, to love someone like him, even after knowing Astarion’s plan to seduce them so they would protect him. How did they manage to remain a sunbeam, since they were so messed up? That was a mystery. But it was only fair that two messed up people had ended up together. Maybe they deserved each other.

Maybe, he thought, cautiously, I could get used to this. To their love.

He pressed a kiss against his boyfriend’s head and buried his hands in their fur. Having Kieran sleep in his tent, whether in an animal form or in human form, made him feel safe. An unfamiliar feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

Yeah, I could really get used to this.

It was over. Cazador was dead. He had ascended. He was free. Free! He didn’t have to hide any longer. He didn’t have to live in fear anymore. He had power and everything he wanted – everything but one thing. The only thing that motivated him to find Cazador again and kill him: Kieran.

After Astarion had completed the ritual, he thought everything would be perfect: control, power, love, and no more fear. But Kieran had left him, saying that they thought they were more than a pet to Astarion. And they were so much more than a pet to him, they were the reason he finally felt alive after two hundred years. Weren’t they supposed to be aeterna amantes? And yet he couldn’t stop them from leaving.

He could live in the light again, forever, yet he preferred the darkness. There was no point in being in the light without his light. His sunbeam.

And suddenly, there they were. Kieran was there, right in front of him, in their human form. Astarion wanted to run to them, hug them, kiss every single one of their freckles, greet them with “hello, my sweet”. Instead, he waited for them to say something.

“Astarion” they said. Their eyes were filled with sadness. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah” he agreed. I miss you, he wanted to say. “What brings you here?”

Kieran opened their mouth to say something, then changed their mind and closed it again, only to clear their throat and finally speak.

“I wanted to talk.”

“Talk” Astarion smirked. “What about? Regretting your decision?”

The druid tortured their bottom lip with their teeth for a moment.

“I don’t regret it, seeing how you are now. Who you are” they replied, locking eyes with their former lover.

“I’ve always been like this. This is who I’ve always been. And you knew it.”

Kieran shook their head, red hair gently falling on their face.

“You’re not the person I knew. You’re not the man I fell in love with anymore” they said, calmly wiping away a solitary tear that rolled down their cheek. Astarion felt incredibly angry and incredibly sad at the same time.

“I don’t think he ever existed” he retorted, flatly. “You just wanted to see something that wasn’t there.”

The hero of Baldur’s Gate looked extremely dejected.

“I guess you’re right. I never learn my lesson, uh? I’m sorry.”

Astarion looked away, uncomfortable.

“I still think that hiding somewhere behind this image you’ve created for yourself there’s the Astarion I love” Kieran added, slowly. “I love you. I cannot be with you, but I do love you. And I’m yours ‘til the earth starts to crumble.”

The vampire laughed bitterly, choking on tears that he refused to cry.

“We’re scar-crossed lovers, forever” he said. “These scars we bear will always keep us apart, no matter how used to them we get.”

Kieran took one step closer. Astarion did too. Their lips met one last time. Their faces were wet.

“I thought you believed in having control over your life” whispered the druid, but they didn’t mean it. They knew their relationship was doomed.

“I thought you believed anything can be healed or fixed” whispered back Astarion, and he found himself meaning it.

“What happened to ‘scar-crossed lovers, forever’?”

“What happened to aeterna amantes?” Astarion smiled weakly, gently wiping away Kieran’s tears. “I’m struggling to exist with you… and without you, darling.”

It was the redhead’s time to laugh with desperation and a tiny bit of hope.

“Is this our fate? A relationship that will never work, but a love that will always bring us back to one another?” they asked, looking for Astarion’s eyes. In the darkness of the place, they glowed with love… and a tiny bit of hope.

“Oh, my sweet.”

They embraced each other, feeling finally safe and at home again, as the dawn of a new day brought a few soft rays of sun onto them.

[ladyannemarie5]

Geraskier Mamma Mia!AU

I started reading a wonderful fic on ao3 with the Mamma Mia theme titled "It's a Game We Play" by BambiRex (Geraskier/ Yennskier/ Radskier) and remembered I had a similar idea in my drafts with Jaskier, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert, so here it is.

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

Geralt, Eskel and Lambert live and run Kaer Morhen in the mountains, a residence for retired soldiers or those who simply can't find a home. The three brothers have been in charge of the place since Vesemir retired a few years ago and with them, the place has blossomed to welcome their brothers in arms in a calm and relaxed atmosphere. 

Ciri, Geralt's adopted daughter is a lovely teenager whose love and devotion lies with her father, uncles, aunts, grandfather and of course, her favorite singer: Jaskier. 

Ever since Ciri met Jaskier when she was in elementary school, her love and obsession for the singer grew more and more each day to the discomfort of her father and uncles. 

Every year without fail, Ciri hogs the TV room to watch the entire award season wherever Jaskier goes and that year is no exception. 

For some strange reason, Eskel, Lambert and Geralt always accompany Ciri to watch the awards. Their reason, they say, is to make sure the girl doesn't see anything inappropriate on TV. The teenager doesn't complain because she loves telling people about Jaskier and the meaning of his songs. 

Jaskier wins the Grammy for Album of the Year for the third year in a row to the delight of everyone present, and his speech changes everyone's life in Kaer Morhen. 

Jaskier gives the usual thanks to his friends, collaborators and others, and then thanks that wonderful summer love affair he experienced 10 years ago that was the complete inspiration for his winning album. He wishes the best to that man and says in a worldwide live broadcast that sometimes he still thinks about him. 

Ciri, social networks and media go crazy. Geralt, Eskel and Lambert too. 

And of course, Lambert opens his mouth to say that he can't believe Buttercup still thinks about him. The mouths of those present open wide and Ciri starts a whole barrage of questions. Lambert confesses and brags that he met Jaskier one summer 10 years ago and they spent a whole wonderful week together. But it doesn't end there, Eskel jumps in to say that if anyone inspired his Lark to write a Grammy winning album it's him, because apparently Eskel also spent a wonderful summer week by the singer's side. Last but not least, Geralt speaks for the first time since they sat down and confesses that he too spent a week with his Bard 10 years ago. 

From there begins a friendly fight of who is the winning muse of the great singer Jaskier, everyone starts analyzing lyric by lyric claiming that they are inspired by one of them. Everything is a joke (let's not talk that the 3 morons remember to perfection every moment lived with Jaskier and that sometimes they stay awake until the wee hours of the morning trying to remember more), until Jaskier, the great singer, arrives to Kaer Morhen. 

Ciri, fed up with their bickering and excited to be able to reconnect any of the fools with her favorite singer, contacts Jaskier to let him know that he is more than welcome to Kaer Morhen for more inspiration. 

Of course, a series of events begins where Jaskier plays with his wolves to keep them from guessing who has been the biggest muse in his life and which songs are for whom. 

Spoiler: In my mind and heart, Geralt is the obvious winner. 

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

As always, let me know what you guys think, if you want to add anything, if you don't like it, etc.

Also if you want to take the idea and write it, go ahead. Just remember to tell me so I can read it. The songs I imagine are entirely Taylor Swift songs, but if you have suggestions and for whom, feel free to let me know.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

omg hi could you maybe do a high-school au where you're failing English lit and Tolya is assigned as your tutor and you had no idea he was good at English and just mutual crushing vibes over poetry and maybe he's a jock and you go to his games to cheer him on and yeah...

the song could be Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift

Okay, look. Normally I don't do AU stuff, because, so many reasons, but I looked at this request and thought about it, and then I thought about it out loud and it sent me and bestie spiralling so fast into a whole Shadow and Bone High School AU concept, that I kind of, have to write this. I kind of have to, but it will have a lot (A LOT) of AU background info so hold on tight buddy. It may get to the point where you're asking yourself "what happened to the original plot of the movie," and to that I say... Idk.

Between Classes And The Bell - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Explicit Language. Spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2 And Potential Book Spoilers Implied Throughout. Not Canon Compliant, As AU But Canon Referenced Throughout. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Word Count: 5k+

"My expectations are low," Kaz says, tapping his cane against the table as he passes Zoya, a gentle taunt. Zoya purses her perfect lips and taps her pencil against the table, refusing to take the bait. "But they can always go lower, of course."

"You really think this is an argument you'll win, Brekker?" Zoya asks, turning in her seat to look at him. He smiles, eyes darting to make sure there is no teachers to oversee the devilish smirk, and clasps his spare hand over the one holding the cane.

"Never been in a fight I couldn't," he says. Zoya looks ready to explode. And you can understand why, Kaz never loses Debate, and she was just beginning to think she had the upper hand on him, but he had only wanted her to think that.

"I don't think we need to take this so seriously," says another classmate, "we aren't being supervised."

"I think taking things more seriously when unsupervised is essential to a thriving environment," Kaz is mocking Zoya and she knows it. She wants to do something, and if she let her heated nature get the better of her, she might. But she just folds her arms, and takes in a deep breath. As Head Girl she has to be composed, and as Captain of the cheer squad she has long learnt composure. When Zoya breathes it is like even the air is competing for her attention, she is that kind of beautiful. You glance at her and she has her eyes closed, calming herself. She shouldn't let Brekker get under her skin so easily, but Zoya takes everything very seriously, whereas Kaz gives the illusion of caring about school, all the teachers think he is a perfect student, and his grades suggest as much, but it is more of a game to Kaz. But that would go unnoticed by most, after all, no body tends to look too closely at a boy with a cane. But you don't doubt he is probably the most threatening of all of you. You'd heard a rumour once that he was running a blackmail scheme and that's why his grades were perfect without trying. But you knew Kaz was smarter than he cared to display, and you didn't want to put too much stock in rumours. School is so full of them after all.

You get up as the class empties, and you try not to pay close attention to the way Kaz hovers in the room, awaiting it's empty, you cannot tell if he is waiting for someone or waiting for the silence.

Zoya is headed for cheer practice and you are quick to step out of her way, it is best not to get under her feet at the best of times, yet again when she is fuelled with rage from an argument and especially when she is running late at the expense of losing said argument.

You step to the side to let most of the crowd pass, but as the corridors empty you feel yourself getting confused about where you were going. You catch a glimpse of your science partners leather messenger bag, and watercolour eyes and you nod to yourself, science, you're sure you've got a science next... but which one? Probably Chemistry, you'll settle for Chemistry.

"You're getting all turned around again," comes a voice from behind you. You turn and the familiar face of Inej Ghafa, is closer than you expected it to be. Inej is one of The Dregs like Kaz, you hated that name, but High School will be as High School will be and names like that sort of stuck. They called them The Dregs because they were scholarship students who couldn't afford to be in the school without the scholarship, 'Dregs Of Society' as a senior had not so politely explained to you one day when you were fresh in and dumb enough to ask. You nearly jump out of your skin, seeing here so close to you, without sensing her at all. She has a tendency to do that, so light on her feet, petite and so quiet. You have often wondered if the ability to walk unheard came first or if it was something she had learned from being a gymnast. If the acrobatics came naturally and the silence was learned, you're not sure which would be more impressive. Inej is simply a marvel, her scholarship is based on her gym skills and you would never doubt why, you've never seen someone able to preform with such confidence and prowess as her. But more than that, it's her heart you've noticed most, so quiet and yet so endlessly kind.

"Am I?" you ask her. She nods.

"You have English," she tells you, pointing towards the arts block.

"I have Chemistry," you say quickly but Inej shakes her head.

"No you had Chemistry last semester in this time slot on a Thursday," she corrects you, "now you have English."

You pause, but you realise she is right. You don't bother questioning how she knows that, one of the things you were quick to learn about Inej was she seemed to know everything about everyone, it came with the quietness you guessed, that she can hear and learn everything about everyone while no one even notices she's there. You wonder if that's what Kaz sees in keeping her so close, but then again based on the way the boy looks at her, you'd guess that was something else.

You turn to thank her but she has already disappeared from sight.

You're not late but you are cutting it close when you make your way to your seat. Nina, who you know relatively well from the short time you spent in the drama department last year, at her own coaxing, throws you a smile. "Pass this back to the pretty one?" she asks, handing you a note.

You glance over your shoulder and you don't need to ask who she means, you should have guessed. Matthias is looking even less eager to be in this class than you feel, but you don't blame him. For an exchange student Matthias doesn't seem to be thrilled to be here at all, most of the time, except when he is with Nina, which he is every moment he has the opportunity to be.

Every time you hear him speak it is to tell Nina that something she is doing is improper, and where he grew up that would've never been allowed, and yet every time you see him he is staring at her with a look in his eyes that could make you believe in love all on its own.

"Please?" Nina asks, fluttering those long beautiful eyelashes at you. You've never seen anyone say no to Nina Zenik, it might not be at all possible.

"Of course Nina," you tell her and hand the note back. Matthias frowns, and you can see the thoughts bubbling to the surface. He mumbles something about etiquette and respect for educators and then recognises Nina's handwriting and stops his grumbling.

"I think I am winning him over yet," she grins before turning back to the front of class. Nina was studying to be a nurse, but after a particularly rough semester switched carer plans and now intends to be a mortician, most of her bubbliness has come back to her, but it's clearest enough when she has the blonde in her eyeline, he truly brings out the best in her.

You find yourself tuning out most of the lesson, which you know you shouldn't, your Literature teacher is old enough that you feel like you should be able to get away with not paying attention, but you know she sees everything, and you're more than a little convinced everyone is afraid of her. So you're knocked sick immediately when Miss Morozova asks you to stay behind as the class is finishing up. You hope for a moment you might have misheard her, but her cold eyes on you is confirmation that you didn't.

She beckons you to the desk with a flick of her wrist and you approach, wondering what misstep you took, but she just slides your previous paper across the wood at you, and you see your mark and goose bumps spread through your skin. Fuck.

"You're going to fail," she tells you. She has never had a knack for encouragement or being gentle with her students.

"That is not what I had hoped," you admit. She laughs, it's a cold type of laugh, all apathy and disappointment.

"Not about hope child, it's about application and effort, I am not sure if you're missing the point or if you are not trying to see the point at all, either way you're not getting where you need to be," she shuffles a few papers, "so I have assigned you a tutor, hopefully that should fix your shortcomings, if not you will fail this class."

"A tutor?" you ask, the cold feeling just continues to spread through your body. Please not Zoya, please not Zoya. You don't doubt she is good at it, you've seen the turn around of Zoya's tutoring, but she intimidates you if you're honest and you don't think that is optimal for your learning. "Who?"

"Tolya Yul Bataar," she says, not bothering to look at you, "I have already informed him, the rest he will sort out, you're dismissed."

"Tolya?" you ask. You hadn't thought about it, you know he is in the advanced class, but you'd never given it much thought. Always seen the jock first, which isn't surprising, his education likes to focus on his sports, they treat his twin sister Tamar the same. Their skills making your school highest in competitive sports, it makes the school want to focus on their athletics. But you're a little annoyed at yourself for not even thinking about it.

You've thought about Tolya more than enough to have justified thinking about his academics. But the slight crush you've had on the athlete who stands taller than you can reason and with arms you're convinced could move mountains, you have had time to think about him.

You had lunch with his sister once, just the once. Tamar is nowhere near as tall as her brother, with short cropped hair which is a contrast to Tolya's own, but her strength is just like his, even for her size she is fierce and unrelenting. She looks like she could fuck you up, and you know she has the power behind her to back that up, and she would, and is willing to if the need arises. Her girlfriend Nadia had also been present at that lunch and you'd wanted to talk more than you had. Tamar was a type of brave you often wanted to be, unapologetic in her braveness, equal parts bark and bite.

You don't try asking anymore questions, you're pretty eager to get out the classroom that you walk straight into the corridor, not thinking to look around you, and are met by a leaning Tolya, who is rested up against the notice board beside the door. If normally he makes your heart skip a few beats, seeing him waiting for you nearly makes your heart stop. You tell yourself that's a fear response, but you know you're lying. "Tolya," you say breathing a little too heavily.

"I didn't take you for the flunking English type," he smiles at you, "but then again how well do you know a person?"

You smile, trying to not blush too deeply and give yourself entirely away. "I didn't know I was flunking," you admit.

"That isn't reassuring," he says, but he isn't criticizing you, you know criticism when you see it.

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"I am sure we can fix it up, I am... fond of prose."

You're supposed to be studying Remains by Simon Armitage, but even in his tutoring state, you can tell Tolya is finding the poem just as painful as you are. You don't want to be difficult, you don't mean to be, you're stressed about the fact you're going to flunk English Lit, and you know Tolya wants to help. But this poem is driving your attention elsewhere, and in an attempt to not stare at the large, pretty, tutor doing his best to go through themes with you, you let your eyes wander around the library.

Jesper Fahey, the lean theatre student with the true talent for dramatics in every aspect of his life, right down to the way he is dressed with bejewelled collar pins and matching cufflinks, is leaning over your chemistry partner, giving him that smile you recognise. Jesper has always been a flirt, and he never misses the mark, you've seen him flirt with nearly everyone around, but he only ever gives Wylan those eyes. You'd seen it first the day Wylan has suggested pyrotechnics for one of their next play, the same day Jesper tried to pitch Rocky Horror, they were a strange match, but perfectly matched in their strangeness. You especially liked Wylan, as your partner in the sciences you spent enough time with him to know that he is so smart, the kind of smart that makes your head spin, he could be a scholarship student, but he actually is a Legacy, not that you'd know it by looking at him, or talking to him. He doesn't really talk about his family, and you never pushed, knowing he runs the tech for the drama kids and can make homemade fireworks is a decent amount of know about a person.

"Am I boring you?" Tolya asks, his voice soft.

"No," you chuckle, "but I won't lie Simon Armitage is, maybe to death."

Tolya offers you a chuckle in response. "In honesty, I would like to say there is credit in all poetry, and I think there is, something for everyone, but I am inclined to agree this is no Keats," Tolya concedes.

"Or Wordsworth, or even Larkin," you add. He smiles.

"So you do like poetry?" he asks. You frown.

"Did I leave you with the impression I didn't?" you ask. He tilts his head, and he looks so unreasonably large in that blue library seat that you bite your tongue to not giggle at it.

"I had to read your previous paper to prep," he says, "you made it sound like poetry was the lowest form of art."

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that, maybe that poem," you joke, "but not all poetry."

"So, what poems do you like?" he asks, closing the book.

"What poems do you like, I didn't take you for the type," you give that preconception willingly, hoping to dismiss it quickly, and get his true interests locked into memory in a hope to know him better.

"All muscle and no appreciation for art?" he asks. You shrug.

"I never thought you were only muscle," you say, "you've got height too."

He laughs a little too loud for the library but you're too busy smiling to care. "I like classic poetry, epic prose," he admits.

"Iliad?" you ask. He grins.

"Yeah, Homer is up there," he nods, "also The Cantos."

"Oh is that... Ezra Pound?" you check, genuinely unsure if you're right but the gleam in his eyes tells you that you are before his words do.

You sit for a while, swapping favourites and preferences and you don't hear the sound of the bell ringing, calling you to classes, you just keep listening to Tolya reciting from memory and you think you could listen to that forever.

"I hate to pull you away," comes a voice anyone would recognise. You look up and the resident Lantsov, Nikolai with his puppy grin and sparkling eyes is looking at Tolya, "but you are very late."

Tolya glances at the time, as long in you as you were in him, and gets up a little too quickly. "I lost track of time," he admits.

"I can see that," Nikolai spares you a glance, and smiles back at his friend. Nikolai is charming, charming in all the ways a politician might be without half the deceit and double the bravado. Handsome in the way that he knows he is handsome and leans on it, but doesn't rely on it solely like people as pretty as he often do. But it works for him, and you understand where it comes from. Lantsov is a Legacy student, which gets him a lot of allowances, but his older brother got expelled a few years back and he has been under a lot of pressure to not fuck up like Vasily did. So he goes the extra mile, does the extra work, head boy, and boy scout all in one, just to fix what his brother broke. The new girl Alina is hovering not far behind, Nikolai took a liking to her immediately, she looks lost in this place, she got in on a scholarship for a sport she didn't play and has been trying to juggle everything ever since. But she mostly talks about missing home, she has a boy back at her old school, a boy her heart aches at the absence of. Usually that sort of thing is a lie, but the way she talks about him, you would never doubt, you're not sure of his name, you've heard it once or twice, Hal, Mal maybe, you don't let your mind linger on the thought.

"I have to go, but I promise to meet you here tomorrow?" Tolya asks you, bringing you back to the library and out of your mind.

"I'll be here," you say. You watch the three of them walk away, the twins have been close to Nikolai as long as you've known any of them, thick as thieves and twice as protective of one another. You can admire a friendship like that.

"And the final stanza, ending with that imagery," Tolya is trying so very hard to stay on topic, but you are tapping your fingers across a very old copy of Odyssey and he knows you're trying to pull his attention away, and you know it's working.

"or six-feet-under in desert sand, but near to the knuckle, here and now, his bloody life in my bloody hands," you recite. "I know Tolya, it is ingrained in my mind I promise you."

"If you fail the next essay you won't be stuck with me anymore, you'll be failed," Tolya reminds you.

"I am very aware of my predicament," you straighten up, "fail and well fail, or succeed and be told the tutoring is effective and I must continue to spend these hours with you."

The way you tease him makes him want to forget the studying all together and just keep you in his company for longer, without explanation or reason beyond just wanting you there.

"This is such torture for you, isn't it?" He asks, not meaning a word.

"Not in the slightest," you confess. "My favourite part of the day, and not just because you bring really good snacks."

"I do," he agrees reaching to take a biscuit from the centre of the table. "Are you coming to the game?"

The question strikes you as odd, you have spent weeks with Tolya and you've discussed art and music and poetry at length, but you've avoided talking sports, you thought because he had wanted not to talk about it, but with this question you wonder if maybe you've been negligent in not asking him about that aspect of his life. If you've come across as uninterested in the athletics and dismissive because of it, and that thought fills you with an uncomfortable nervousness.

"I hadn't been planning on," you say slowly, "should I?"

"It's going to be a good game," he says, "a competitive one." You nod, trying to seem more enthusiastic than you're sure how to be about sports. "It's an important game," he admits, "and I would... like to have you there, if you want to come?"

"Are you asking me to come watch your game?" you ask, twiddling your pencil between your fingers. He smiles.

"Yeah, I kind of am," he admits, "is that okay?"

"Yeah," the blush creeps up your neck but has the respect to stay away from your cheeks, weeks alongside Tolya you've had to train yourself to blush more subtly, "I'd like that."

Genya and Nina are both fussing over Zoya in preparation for the game, Genya because she wants to be beautician and it is helpful, Nina because it's her prerogative to get involved wherever she wants to. Seeing Genya and Zoya be so friendly with one another is still a little unnerving, due to a not so friendly rumour about Genya and a teacher Genya had been the subject of a lot of hate from the girls at school. Zoya was among them. But the last year has brought everyone a lot closer, and everyone has become a lot more understanding, and Zoya with the help of Alina went around getting Mr Kirigan fired for his unprofessional behaviour, that which they could prove anyway. Genya weathered the worst of it all, and she never seemed to shake.

"Genya if you do not stop fussing me," Zoya warns her, but it's coming from a softer place than her normal warning tone. Zoya holds a lot of guilt when it comes to Genya, about not defending her, about not believing her, about not protecting her from the rumours.

Even Zoya had her fair share of rumours, the real reason as to why she doesn't date, the way her eyes linger moments too long on a pretty girl in the hallway, but again, you didn't like to put too much stock into rumours.

Genya twirls one of her red tendrils around her hand, trying to keep them off Zoya's long dark hair which she has pulled up into a ponytail. "Can I at least-,"

"No," Zoya says sternly. "David, please come get your girlfriend."

David, the reed thin brunette who rarely understands half of what is going on around him, looks up from the book he is reading, something on geology and metallurgy, to look at Genya who gives him a sweet smile, and he gives her a little wave, not having heard exactly what Zoya said. David and Genya are high school sweethearts, the type that you're not even aware you are rooting for at first, but at some point you realise the happiness of their relationship is the thing you are basing your idea of true love on.

"You're coming tonight right?" Nina asks you, throwing you a look across the room, you hadn't realised she noticed you being there, between trying to keep Genya from trying to colour Zoya's hair and Zoya from trying to kill Genya with a look.

"To the game?" Genya turns her eyes to you and they're glistening with anticipation. "I didn't realise you found your school spirit."

"I was invited," you explain.

"Yeah, by a tree with the muscles of a Saint," Nina quips giving you a wink. "I don't think it's school spirit they've found."

"Tolya?" Genya asks, tone shifting up a pitch with her eagerness.

"Don't say it like that," you say. Genya leans up on her elbows, resting her pretty face over her crossed hands.

"Like what?" she asks.

"Like," you gesture to her in her entirety, "like that, like you think you know something I don't know."

"If your truly flunking Lit, I think we all know something you don't know," Zoya says, "now can we get this show on the road, I cannot and will not be late."

"Ignore her," Nina mouths, "she's just cranky because... well because she is Zoya."

The air is brisk but you don't feel cold as you walk towards the field, you see Brekker underneath the bleachers talking with someone you don't recognise, but you pretend not to see anything.

Wylan has his arms around Jesper's neck in the back of the stands, and he looks less lost and more found. Matthias and Nina are bickering by the food queue about how acceptable sweet toppings are on savoury foods and she is too wrapped up in her fun game of wind up Matthias to see your wave, but you don't mind.

Zoya has corralled the cheerleaders and they're all pretty ready, Alina is staring trying not to get roped into anything as one of the cheerleaders in blue tries to tell her how good cheer is for the spirit.

Nikolai is trying to convince Zoya of something but you're not sure what, but you are at least sure it isn't working.

You are brought out of your people watching by feeling a presence close to your side, you turn your head and Inej is walking in stride. "Tolya is looking for you," she says, and you expect her to disappear into nothing as quickly as she appears, but she doesn't. She is a girl after all, not a ghost.

"When does the game start?" you ask.

"You have time," she assures you. She points south and you follow that guidance, and you see Tamar leaning on the gate, she is talking with some of the other players, and she looks so at home. It would be hard to believe there was a time when Tamar had to argue her way onto the team, given how much she has to offer.

Tamar gets a warning for cursing with enthusiasm and you cannot help but chuckle. If the other team wants a fight, they will definitely find one with her. You're about to ask if someone has seen Tolya when you feel the shadow casting across your shoulder.

"I'll get them back," Tamar is insisting.

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much," Tolya quotes, standing beside you. Tamar throws her brother an unamused look.

"Oscar Wilde," you say craning your neck up to look at Tolya. He looks different in his sporting kit, but his hair is still held back the same, and his arms are still exposed to the cold air, just not with rolled up sleeves this time. Looking at him makes you feel cold, and you want to ask him how he isn't.

"You're shivering," he points out.

"I am?" you ask, glancing down at your own body, "I hadn't expected it to be so cold."

"Here," Tolya reaches behind him into a bag and pulls out a jersey, it's for the team and is sporting his number on the back, he hands it to you with one hand. "So you're warm."

You take it slowly, mind racing with the many implications of such a small, kind gesture, and you don't want to jump the gun with this, with him. "Thank you," you manage, slipping the fabric over your shoulders. "I didn't even realise you had one of these."

"Everyone on the team has one," he says.

"No, a jacket," you tease, "you never wear one."

He shrugs. "I don't get cold," he explains, looking around to see how quickly he needs to make his way to the field.

"Then why did you carry it with you?" you ask. The jersey smells like Tolya, from being in his bag you'd guess, and you feel a weight in the side pocket, reaching in you find a small packet of dried mango. You let yourself smile at that.

"I've got to run," he says, "wish me luck?"

"Break a leg," you say, "or is that just something you say for theatre?"

"I'll take it," he says before joining the team.

You'd not given the sports of your school too much thought, but watching Tolya play you must admit you weren't giving the sport aspect much thought even now. You cheer for Tolya, not the game, you're watching Tolya, not the game. If anyone asked you what was happening you're not sure you'd be able to offer more than this name.

If you had any doubts about your schools victory they would have been quickly squashed by the victory cries from Tamar, all fervour and for more expletives than the coach is happy for there to be. She gets a whistle of a warning and a stern look which she just brushes off, letting her brother pull her into a hug.

You are leaning on the fence, which you hadn't noticed until now, with Tolya approaching you. The field is lower set than the stands but Tolya still feels very tall as he gets closer. You can understand why Nina described him as treelike. "Good game," you say. The warmth of his jersey on your skin feeling as secure as that embrace you watched him give Tamar, and it leaves you reaching out for him with eager thoughts and hesitant hands. You tuck them deep into your pockets- his pockets, trying not to give yourself away.

"Thank you," he says, the adrenaline in his smile is dizzying. "Thank you for coming by the way, it means a lot."

"Thank you for inviting me," you say. You want to say more, you want to find the words for this feeling, this gentle buzzing that is sparking between the two of you.

"Ask her you coward," Tamar calls from her place now sat next to Nadia, straddling the bench of a lower section of the bleachers, sharing a milkshake with her girlfriend.

Tolya laughs. "I made a bet with my sister, if we win I had to take that win, and take a risk," he says, and for someone so tall he looks so nervous. "And we won."

"You did," you nod, "quite well I think."

"Really well," he admits, laughter echoing in the spaces between the words.

"So what risk?" you ask, feeling yourself leaning onto your toes, needing to know, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

"I was wondering if you'd like to see me, outside of school hours?" he asks.

"Like now?" you ask, trying to keep the smile at bay. He tilts his head in a nod.

"Yeah, like now, but maybe more... just us," he says. You feel like you might fall down but you can't help but tease him.

"For studying?" you ask. He can tell you're playing with him.

"No," he says, "not for studying."

"Are you trying to ask me on a date Tolya?"

"I am trying."

"I would like that, I would like that a lot."

[alaksandus]

Just finished watching the Fiona and Cake by some VERY legal means, and I am reminded again and again how much I love the character of Simon Petrikov

Obviously spoilers I guess! if you haven’t watch it or even haven’t watched Adventure Time, I deeply suggest that you do.

I think the new spin-off really allows us to understand just how human he is because I know we were very familiarized with the Ice King.

It gave him a distinct flaw-fulness that I don’t think the original series was able to get across or even given the time to get across. All we were able to see was the kind natures fatherly figure who made his necessary sacrifices and the hopeless romantic whose madness drove his love away. In the main series, it seemed like all the flaws were exclusively from the crown itself and it’s madness ( of course, this is not a fault of Adventure Time, it merely needed to focus on the tragic element of Ice King and had to create an easy foil to understand the caring nature of Simon and the “cold” nature of IK)

Yet, I’m Fiona and Cat, Simon is allowed to be human, separate from being the “monster” of Ice King. And in this, we get to see his flaws. In particular, that he was an extremely selfish lover who never made the same level of sacrifice for his love and because of that in combination with the crown, his love was destined to fail ( I particularly like the parallels told in the story of Casper and Nova, that through Casper’s case for the crown, and Casper’s (Simon’s) choice to ignore Nova’s (Betty’s) solution, he is ultimately forced to lose her in someway, either by her death and him remembering her (Golb solution) or her life and him forgetting her (Ice King solution); another point I like was Simon wondering if his selfishness ultimately led him to find the crown and become the Ice King)

But within all that, Simon learns from his mistake and rather than relapse for the sake of Fiona snd Cake and lose himself to the crown, he lets himself live, just as Betty wanted.

But continuing on the idea of selfish love and it’s connection to the crown, I wonder if it was specifically this type of love that imbued itself into the mad psyche of Ice King. I have seen people talk about how the Ice King searches for princesses because he (Simon) lost his princess, so I wonder if the selfish, you should sacrifice yourself for me, expectation of that former love is the reason Ice King is so willing to kidnap the princesses themselves. Burrowed into the psyche of the crown is now the idea that there is a princess who needs no other life than a life with the wearer.

On one last note, I will prematurely clarify that I don’t think Simon was intentional in his selfishness. It is made abundantly clear that he is not and didn’t even consider to think of it. Now, I am not going to make the case that that is better. What I will say is that despite his selfishness, Betty was still willing to sacrifice herself which I think is another interesting element of her character. Throughout the previous series, she was either that mysterious princess or characterized as an insane obsessive freak who wanted someone back who wasn’t there (until digested by Golb). But here, we get to see what that obsession was before. Self-sacrificial love and devotion, even if you did not receive equal parts back (Simon still loved her very much, just not to her own extant). I think it helps to finish the painting of the love between Betty and Simon. It was messy. There was unequal distribution of love. But they loved each other, and fought for each other until it was beyond evident that they could not win. And for that, I will always love their story and their characters.

Sorry for the little actual analysis in this post. I wasn’t trying to be too critical or analytical. I just wanted to spew my mind!

[talesfromlissom]

Can you do a rodimus x human reader with the “We’re most definitely going to die.” “Hey now, stop being so negative.” “Yay! We’re gonna die!” prompt? Like maybe they got stranded on a aggressive planet or something?? I’ll be fine with anything you can come up with!

Fandom: Transformers (IDW)

Rating: M

Characters: Rodimus, mentions of other characters

TW: Blood, slight gore, Rodimus being Rodimus

Rules

Ask Box

A/N - I know that you said you wanted a human reader, but I ended up writing it so the reader can decide if they’re human or not. Lol sorry.

Summary - Let’s race through the asteroid field of a desolate and definitely not hostile planet, he said. Whoever loses will have to sit through Magnus’ debrief. He said. It’ll be fun. He said.

Spoiler: It was not fun, you’re probably gonna die. 

Rodimus considered himself the more reckless one of the relationship. And that wasn’t a lie at all. You were much more reserved in your fighting efforts. Always taking more calculated risks rather than just doing whatever idea popped into your head. Always weighing the good and the bad, always keeping a balance. He was certain there were some cases where you were the only reason why he was alive. Although, there was one small issue. 

You were competitive as hell. Thus, you were racing him, purely to decide if Rodimus would actually attend Ultra Magnus’ debrief. Or if you would go in disguised as him. You turned the idea down at first, he made the bet. Whoever lost the race around the next systems’ asteroid and planet had to sit through the meeting. 

You raced through an asteroid field around a desolate planet, Rodimus crashed the damn pod, landed on the planet and didn’t die somehow. 

And you had the audacity to laugh in his face. 

Well clearly you weren’t laughing now. He was. You weren’t.

You grunt when a shot hits the corner of the boulder you’re currently shoved behind, his frame which is utterly massive compared to you keeping most of the debris from falling onto you. You playfully slam a fist into his shoulder and turn around. You fire a shot at a NAIL, who had the stupid idea to get out into the open. She falls to the ground instantly, energon seeping into the sand as one of her companions drags her into cover. 

“Y’know, this is not exactly what I had planned when you said you wanted to race!” You shout, ducking behind the rock again. 

“Aw really?” He comes out of the rock this time, firing at a few of the NAIL(s) that dare to show their ugly faceplates. Not that matters of course, because he misses all his shots. He clicks his teeth at this, and ducks behind cover again. “That was the special secret part of this. Whoever gets more kills wins!”

You gawk at him. “Seriously? What the fuck(frag) Rodimus! I’m calling Magnus-” 

He tilts his head when you do so, he then grins upon seeing your face become more disappointed. It's obvious that you can’t contact the ship based on the expression alone. 

“We’re most definitely going to die.” You mumble, as another corner of the rock is shot off. 

“Hey now, stop being so negative!”  Rodimus shouts, while he rolls out from behind the rock. You shout his name, but he clearly isn’t listening. Two of the assailants are knocked down, one of them is dead clearly, but the other still moves, twitching and sparking before it finally stops. 

For a quick moment, there’s just wind. The sound of wind rustling the sand and beating against you two. “Huh-” 

Rodimus shouts when a bullet goes screaming past his legs, and more bullets come at him. You can hear the faint sound of some sort of rapid fire based weaponry. So you grab his wrist, and pull him towards the rock again. 

“Yay! We’re gonna die!” You cry, throwing your arms around for good measure. “You’re cleaning my damn energon cubes for the next 3 weeks, captain.” 

—

The Lost Light touches the ground nearly 10 minutes after. You suppose the meer size of the ship scares the NAIL(s) off. This assumption is based purely on the fact that they’ve stopped firing at you. You’re tied with kills as of right now, 3-3. Not that it matters anyways, on one hand, you’ll be missing the debrief, on the other hand, you’ll be spending more time getting yelled at by Magnus for being stupid. To be fair, all you have to do is bat your eyes(optics) at him and he’ll just let you off with a warning. 

Rodimus on the other hand…

“Magnus! Just in the nick of time!” Rodimus shouts, scrambling off the sand and bouncing towards the ship. “What took you so long?” 

You scoff at him, and follow. Not really bouncing, just grimacing at how hot you are now. You roll your shoulders and climb up the platform into the ship, placing your hands on your hips. 

Magnus exchanges a quick look with you and Rodimus. “You two, my office, now.” 

“Aw.” 

[m34gs]

Now that you're done watching S2 of Link Click please tell me your top 5 favourite scenes/moments in the series so far!

Oh this is a fun ask! Thank you for sending it to me!! I am so excited to answer this. I love this series so much and I can't wait to get started on the fic ideas I have for it! ehehehehe.

Because of spoilers, I will put the list under a cut! We will be counting down from 5 to 1, with my all-time favourite being #1! Of course, I'll include some honourable mentions, ehehe. I will be excluding the opening and ending credits from both seasons from these, as I don't consider them to be scenes (though I *know* you know the part that would be my absolute fave if I *did* include them).

Alright, which 5 Link Click scenes made Meags go absolutely feral??? Let's get to it!

5. After the earthquake dive, when Cheng Xiaoshi drops to the floor and Lu Guang immediately drops down to comfort him. God. I love that scene so much. You know. You *know* what it fuels in me. The angst. The tension. The...tension 👀👀👀. But seriously, the tenderness of it, too. The moment of just being held by someone close to you while you lose it and cry. My poor, poor baby Cheng Xiaoshi. Looking back on it, knowing what Lu Guang knew from previous dives, knowing he probably knew exactly where it was heading, and that he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to, that he would never be able to stop Cheng Xiaoshi from being overwhelmed by that dive even though he wants to never hurt him. Knowing that he went into it probably trying desperately to justify the pain he would cause his best friend just so that he could save his life. If that isn't a tragic beauty, I don't know what is.

4. Qiao Ling kicking ass in the hospital with Cheng Xiaoshi. My girl can fucking *wield* an IV pole. Love her so much. She's so fucking strong and she makes such a good team with Cheng Xiaoshi when they're fighting off the attackers. Love to see it.

3. The memory where Lu Guang appears at the basketball court. The reason this one holds a special place in my heart is because of his expression. As much as he's "just met" Cheng Xiaoshi; you can see the recognition in his eyes, the longing, the hope, the love...the "you're alive...you're still alive...I have a chance" that sits in his heart and is the only reason he can keep doing this again and again and again. It wrecks me. I love it.

2. Cheng Xiaoshi coming face to face with his own recklessness when he's possessing Lu Guang's body in the past... because oh my god that is so fucking funny. The way he went from "yessss, I just saved myself AND my boyfriend, haha, I win this time" to "jesus fuck I forgot I was an absolute impulsive dumbass" was so fucking funny. And it was so funny seeing his expressions on the usually-stoic Lu Guang's face. Gets me every time I think about it. I will never be over how fucking funny that was. I can just imagine Lu Guang later going "not so funny when you're on the receiving end of the impulsiveness, is it?" ahahahaha.

Honourable Mentions: Qiao Ling slaps Qian Jin at the funeral (get his ass!!!!), Xiao Ma getting shot (zero fucking sympathy for you sir!), Lu Guang buys Cheng Xiaoshi boba tea after the earthquake episodes (we love to see boys being soft and comforting each other, even if one of them has to be a bit tsundere about it...), Qiao Ling and Lu Guang refusing to take cases after the earthquake case in order to protect Cheng Xiaoshi (love to see some protective friends).

When Cheng Xiaoshi gets shot and Lu Guang goes absolutely fucking feral on Qian Jin's ass. Get him. Fucking. GET. HIM. UGH. I love it so much. He's 100% ready to kill the man who shot his lover best friend. I am always here for the calm and composed one losing their absolute shit when the people they love are harmed. You know what they say; demons flee when a good man goes to war. And I love that, this time, Cheng Xiaoshi wasn't dead. He was only grazed. And what does he do? He doesn't fucking hesitate. Lu Guang is beating this guy's ass? Guess that's what we're doing then. Like, sometimes I like to think up to that point he has held in his urges to punch someone not just because of the gun, but also because he's like, "gotta do what Lu Guang would do. Can't disappoint the boyfriend" and then he sees him going nuts and goes "oh if Lu Guang says so, then it must be ok" and decides to join in. Like. Ugh. They are so in fucking love.

Ok, ok, there are my answers! Hope you enjoy! And I'd love to know what your top 5 fave scenes are too👀👀👀

[into-september]

"Super Mario Bros: The Movie", "Wreck-it-Ralph", and the crucial presence of a story's purpose

If you haven't watched "Wreck-it-Ralph", I urge you to do so before reading this, because I'm gonna spoil it and it deserves better.

I promise you won't regret it.

I'm also gonna spoil "Super Mario Bros: The Movie", but it's not a spoiler to state that it stays perfectly loyal to the games, and that is all you need to know.

Two things before diving into this:

First and most importantly, this is a credo of "Wreck-it-Ralph is better", but saying "it's not as good" is not the same as "it's bad".

Second, you'll forgive me for going all post-grad literature student on you, but this is gonna talk about theme.

What is Mario Bros' problem? Why is he fighting this fight, what has he got to prove?

In the year of our girlboss 2023, it just isn't acceptable to reduce the princess to the object fought over by the male hero and the male antagonist, and so we got the interesting but ultimately meaningless conflict where Bowser has Mario's brother and wrongly believes Mario has his princess. It's about the right to violence, saving your hometown and proving the meanies who laughed at you wrong.

Problem number one: Mario's conflict goes no-where. His saving Luigi is not a struggle, is not something he does by having grown from his experiences and the lessons he learned. Him reaching Bowser's stronghold is kinda, in the most banal sense of his mastering the game mechanics as an in-story avatar of the audience who have themselves fumbled through the first few levels with the gamepad in their hands, but his fetching Luigi specifically is pure right-place-at-the-right-time coincidence. As was always obvious, of course, since his wish to save Luigi was as important as him saying "so how'll this save my brother" a whole three times to remind us that there's a reason he's not just going home. What really preoccupies Mario throughout the whole film is exploring the new world into which he's been iskeai'ed, because of course: the audience never did pay to watch a heartwarming story about brotherly love, but to see the settings of the games on the big screen.

In contrast, let's explore: What has is Wreck-it-Ralph's problem? Why is he fighting this fight, what has he got to prove?

Ralph is an outcast, probably because he's fated to play the part of the bad guy of his game, certainly not helped by his lacking tact when faced with the people who won't see him beyond this kind of proving them right. Ralph wants to be accepted and appreciated, and starts his story in the belief that to be appreciated, he needs to stop being the bad guy and be the hero instead.

The plot of the film is about Ralph trying to fix the mess after his first and only attempt at heroing ends in disaster. As a part of that, Ralph comes to realise that being a hero to one fellow outcast who no-one else helped means more to him than nominally being a hero by winning a game. But Ralph also does get to be a hero for real: By the end, the only thing that can save the day is the abilities which put him into the Bad Guy box he so desperately wanted to escape. He is good at wrecking things, but now he found the place where wrecking is exactly what is needed.

But theme, people. Because Ralph isn't the only one who saves the day by learning to embrace that which he wants to no longer be.

(for the suckers who watched this without the context of having seen the rest of the film: Vanellope's has been shunned and bullied because of her glitching, which she spends the whole film trying not to do but here utilises to reach Ralph in time)

Ralph's journey into self-acceptance after seing that he is more than his destined role - and having his "bad" qualities not only accepted, but celebrated by the people who previously shunned him - is ecchoed exactly in Vanellope. It is, moreover, mirrored in the film's real bad guy - who like Ralph destroys his own game to try and be the hero of another which he also ruins. But Turbo was the hero who became a villain because he failed to accept what Ralph does at the end of their battle: that even if others might be "better" in the larger story told, you are enough as just who you are

Turbo doesn't just take over another game in order to win glory: he abandons himself in the process, because the only way to get the fame he so wants is to be a player in the newer, shinier game. In that role he even becomes its king, and abuses that power to cast out the true princess and brand her not only as unwanted, but as a danger to the existence of the game. The root of Turbo's bad deeds isn't merely "he is evil", it is specifically his failures at accepting the lesson which lets Ralph find peace with who he is.

That being content as who you are is a necessity to thrive is perhaps best illutrated in Felix, Ralph's nemesis in game mechanics and the unknowing object of his jealousy. Felix never has known what it's like to be rejected and treated like a criminal, and that privilege lets Felix go about life with the confidence that he can fix it. Sure, we laugh at his romantic pursuit of Calhoun because hes half her height and with a goofy cartoon design, but in story? No-one thinks this is ridiculous, not even the tough-as-nails soldier whose solution to any problem is to point her gun at it. Of course the tiny janitor from the eighties platformer can land the babe from the shiny new FPS (if only she didn't come programmed with the saddest backstory ever)

"Wreck-it-Ralph" isn't a story about winning the game by beating the bad guy and finding your princess brother in the final castle. It's a fable about seeing the worth in yourself and appreciating the people around you not by the merits of what we say needs to be celebrated, but by the good they contribute by being who they are.

This story didn't need to happen in a video game, even though the narrative mechanics of the games help illustrate the point.

But "Super Mario Bros The Movie"? The video game franchis is the only reason that story is told. This doesn't make it a bad movie, but let's not kid ourselves: if the hero wasn't Mario and the villain wasn't Bowser, this film would not have been something we talked about on tumblr. It's fine! It's fun! But except for a memetic moment of Bowser serenading Peach, there is absolutely nothing memorable about it.