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dduane · 3 days

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Is there an alphabet or lexicon of the human version of The Speech? And if so, where can I find it?

No, there's not.

(And as I've been asked about this before, I'm just going to paste the answer in here—since though the original post is buried in the depths of Tumblr somewhere, I do have my saved draft.)

Per these, which came in very close to each other:

@melbetweenstars

This is something I’ve always wondered but never realized I could actually ask about until I read through that long meta response. (go me.) How much of the Speech do you have fleshed out? Do you create it as you go on more of a need-to-know basis, or do you have vocabulary and grammar structures ready to go? Basically I’d be really interested to hear any Speech-related meta if you have the chance because fictional languages are hella cool!

and:

@sansa–clegane

I just read your post on dark wizards and field terminologies, and am totally loving the Speech translations you provided! Now I’m wondering, though, how much of the language you actually have mapped out or established? I’m very curious as to what, for example, the standard “I - you - he/she/it/etc. - we - you plural - they” conjugation endings would be– or if there even are any in a language as complex as the Speech. I’M JUST REALLY INTERESTED IN FANTASY LINGUISTICS AAAHH

Linguistics is a big deal for me too, as people who read my stuff will have guessed. And needless to say, the Speech is on my mind a lot (along with other “magical languages” and their history/histories).

So let’s take a moment to first to make it clear what the Speech is not. It’s not what’s sometimes referred to as an Adamic language (whether you take the meaning that God used it to talk to Adam, or that Adam invented it to name things.) It’s also nothing whatsoever to do with Enochian. It’s not an occultic language, or anything invented by human beings.

The basic concept is that the Speech is the language, or the very large body of descriptors, used to create the universe (and very likely others, but let’s leave that to one side for the moment). Such words are also assumed, having been used in the building of the universe, to be able to control the bits they’ve built. Every word, therefore, when used ought ideally to sound as if it contains some tremendous power.

Writing something like that every time the Speech is used, even for a much better writer than I am, would be very, very hard.

(We need a cut here. Under the cut: Ursula Le Guin, C. S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, J. K. Rowling, and others. ...Also a fair number of beetles. And a bear.)

It’s worth mentioning as a matter of information that I met the concept of secret / divine magical languages in Le Guin’s Earthsea long before I ran into it in C. S. Lewis. (I came pretty late to Lewis’s non-Narnian work.) Yet here Lewis, as more than occasionally before, is my master, having been over this ground right back in the mid-1940s.

There’s a point in the final novel of the so-called “Planetary Trilogy”, that big fat (now endlessly problematic but still fun-in-the-right-moods) book That Hideous Strength, where Elwin Ransom—philologist, unwilling visitor to Mars and Venus, unnerved conscript into the wars in Heaven, and Lewis’s take on both the Pendragon and the wounded Fisher King—is instructing his friend and co-linguistics scholar Dimble on how to behave in a meeting with the newly awakened, and potentially quite dangerous, Merlin Ambrosius. (The POV in this passage is that of a lady named Jane who's just recently fallen into company with the group supporting Ransom.)

“You understand, Dimble? Your revolver in your hand, a prayer on your lips, your mind fixed on Maleldil [just think “Christ” for the moment: surprise surprise, that’s the parellel Lewis is using here]. Then, if he stands, conjure him.” “What shall I say in the Great Tongue?” “Say that you come in the name of God and all angels and in the power of the planets from one who sits today in the seat of the Pendragon, and command him to come with you. Say it now.” And Dimble, who had been sitting with his face drawn, and rather white, between the white faces of the two women, and his eyes on the table, raised his head, and great syllables of words that sounded like castles came out of his mouth. Jane felt her heart leap and quiver at them. Everything else in the room, seemed to have become intensely quiet: even the bird, and the bear***, and the cat, were still, staring at the speaker. The voice did not sound like Dimble’s own: it was as if the words spoke themselves through him from some strong place at a distance—or as if they were not words at all but present operations of God, the planets, and the Pendragon. For this was the language spoken before the Fall and beyond the Moon, and the meanings were not given to the syllables by chance, or skill, or long tradition, but truly inherent in them as the shape of the great Sun is inherent in the little waterdrop. This was Language herself, as she first sprang at Maleldil’s bidding out of the molten quicksilver of the star called Mercury on Earth, but Viritrilbia in Deep Heaven.

Now if that’s not like being hit over the head with a hammer, I don’t know what is.* That moment has been before the eyes-of-my-mind for a long time as I’ve worked with the Speech.

Note, however, that Lewis does a very wise thing here. He doesn’t actually spell out any of the words out for you. Because in the reader’s mind, there’s always the six-year-old saying, “Go on, say the word: see how it sounds, see what happens…!” And when you recite the magic spell, it doesn’t work. The words come out sounding, well, like any others. And maybe not your interior six-year-old, but your interior twelve- or fifteen-year-old—the ego-state that’s about keeping you from getting hurt or looking stupid in front of other people who aren’t privy to or supportive of your dreams—says, “See, it was just another word, just a bunch of nonsense. You got fooled. Dummy!” No wise writer, I think, willingly sets their readership up for such easy and constant disappointment. It's tough enough to weave, and hold in place, the spell that is prose. Handing the audience a potential spellbreaker, over and over again, is folly.

And by rights the Speech ought to be like Lewis’s example above. If in reality you were to hear the words used to restructure matter or undo gravity, they ought to shake the air in your chest like a Saturn V launch, they should raise the hair on the back of your neck to hear them used; they should freak you out. But a long string of invented syllables isn’t going to do that. I’m stuck with using English to produce even the echo of such a result.

Which means I have to go Lewis’s route… mostly. Here and there I’ll add in a Speech-sourced word or phrase when it supports the narrative or makes it easier for characters to talk about what’s going on—as, when working with wizardry, you do sometimes have to call in precisionist-level language for words that have no casual English cognates: just as you would if you were working in particle physics or organic chemistry at the molecular level. But that’s all I’m going to do… because if you do too much linguistic work in this regard, you constantly run the risk of your readers being distracted from the real business at hand, which is the interactions between/among the characters.

The tech inherent to a work of fantastic fiction is always an issue in this regard. Ideally L. Sprague de Camp’s very useful definition of science fiction, tweaked here for fantasy, ought to be a guideline: “A fantasy story is a human story with a human problem and a human solution that could never have happened without its fantastic content.” Yet inside the definition, there’s still a lot of ways to go wrong. Too much merely human stuff, and a work of fantasy turns into a soap with some casual magical gimmickry—all too often these days labeled as “magic realism”, when it’s not publisher code for “We’d call this fantasy if we had the nerve and we didn’t think it was going to tag us as ‘genre’ and keep us off the best-seller lists”. Too little human-problem-and-human-solution, and it turns into a modern version of what James Blish (God rest him), when writing as the gently merciless science fiction critic William Atheling Jr., used to call “The 'Greater New York and New Jersey Municipal Zeppelin Gas Works’ school of speculative fiction”, where you tour your readership through the Wonderfulness Of Your Tech (magical or otherwise) until they expire of boredom while waiting for someone to fucking do something.

You have to find a centerline between the extremes—indeed pretty much a tightrope—and walk it with some care. I’d guess that J. K. Rowling ran into the need for this balancing act; while never having read the Potter books, I nonetheless get a sense that you get the occasional Wingardium leviosa without also being burdened with long strings of magical Latin. (Though I confess that the answer to the question “Where does the magic come from? And what’s it for?” as it applies to her universe could be of some interest. I have no idea whether this ever gets explicitly handled.**)

Anyway, it’d be way too easy for the YW books to become long discourses on the Speech and its use. This aspect of the “tech”, I think, gets more than enough time onstage. Having once established that words are a tool, indeed the tool for a wizard, the ur-Tool, making every spell they build a resonance between what they do and the initial/ongoing work of Creation—my business is to stay focused on the challenge of driving plot forward by interactions between human beings (and all kinds of others) who have conflicting agendas.

…So much for the tl;dr. I do have some very basic grammatical structures tucked away, but they’re not in any fit state for other people to look at. The Speech, I think, is really best treated as an ongoing mystery that unfolds a little at a time, as required, and leaves everybody wanting more.

HTH!

*It also leads into one of numerous affectionate nods in this book toward Tolkien, as philologist, fellow novelist, and Lewis’s good friend. It's no accident that when Ransom meets up with Merlin himself, a little later in the narrative, the question of this language—the proper name of the Great Tongue is “Old Solar"—comes up again. When discussing what language they’ll speak with each other during their upcoming negotiations [they apparently start out in a rather beat-up and denatured medieval Latin], Ransom says to Merlin about the language he’d prefer to be working in, "It has been long since it was heard. Not even in Numinor was it heard in the streets.”

The Stranger gave no start … but he spoke with a new interest. “Your masters let you play with dangerous toys,” he said. “Tell me, slave, what is Numinor?” “The true West,” said Ransom. “Well,” said the other.

Yeah, “well.” Better scholars than I have dealt with the relationship between these two, as scholars and writers and friends, so enough of that for the moment. But it’s very sweet to see Lewis do something in his books that I’ve done with mine.

**It’s always possible, of course, that in the HP universe this issue is a surd: like asking “where physics comes from”. (Well, not a surd precisely, if your spiritual life tends a certain way. Mine tends toward “Whoever or whatever made the universe, that’s who made physics. And they must really like it, because they made a metric shit ton of it!” (This answer also works for beetles, though that's a slightly different issue.) :)

But if there’s a most-fundamental difference between my wizardly universe and Rowling’s, it might be best revealed in the third question that came up for me directly after “What if there was a user’s manual for human beings/the world/the universe?” and “If there was, where would it have come from?”: specifically, “And why?”

***There's a bear in the Pendragon's kitchen. Thoth only knows what initially brought that on for Lewis, but it's a character insertion that pays off later, so (shrug) wtf.

#Young Wizards meta #Young Wizards #Ursula Le Guin #C. S. Lewis #J. R. R. Tolkien #the Speech #wizardry #errantry

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phoward89 · 1 day

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Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, smut, fingering, p in v, suspected cheating, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

This is the Coriolanus x Reader ending AKA ending 1. The next ending I wrote AKA ending 2 will be for Crassus x Reader.

This is also a bit long.

Masterlist

Ending #1-Coriolanus:

“How're you feeling?” Coryo asks, resting his chin on your shoulder as you sit together on his bed. You're literally nestled into him; his arms are wrapped around you while yours are wrapped around him.

“I'm fine.” You lie.

“No, you're not.” The blonde with a halo of golden curls tells you. Of course, he knows you're not fine. He knows everything about you; knows you better than you even know yourself.

“I don't want you to leave.” You confess, struggling to hold back tears.

Coriolanus had received his conscription letter for the Peacekeepers that day. A letter that changed everything the two of you had planned for your lives. It definitely changed Coryo's plans, since he was going to make things official with you. Make you his girl.

But now he's been drafted into service in the Peacekeepers. Apparently there's a dire need for Peacekeepers in District 8. Coriolanus says apparently because he's abso-fucking-lutely positive that his father's behind him being drafted into the Peacekeepers. All because he wants you to himself.

Coriolanus isn't stupid, he did graduate the top of your class at the Academy. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. With how his father keeps looking at you lustfully paired with the sudden conscription notice, well the blonde boy just knew he was being shipped away from you so that his father, General Crassus Snow, could poach his girl.

You.

Coriolanus also knew that it was now or never to tell you about his deep running feelings for you; to warn you about his father's dark and lecherous intentions towards you.

“Y/N, baby, we need to have a serious talk.” The curly haired blonde tells you, his baby blues boring into you with such seriousness that it was somewhat unsettling.

“About you leaving in 2 days?” You ask, sniffling.

“Yes,” Coryo nodded, “that's part of it.”

“Then what's the other part of it?” You curiously ask.

Coriolanus hits you with the bomb of, “I’d like you to be my girl; wait for me.”

“Wait for you? But, Coryo, Peacekeepers serve for 20 years and-” You begin to voice your worries only to be cut off and silenced by Coryo's lips pressing onto yours in a desperate, needy kiss.

Any thoughts that were in your head float away as you feel the softness of your best friend's lips crash into yours. Your instincts take over and before you can blink, you're grabbing Coryo's shirt and returning his kiss. Your lips slot against his in inexperienced motions.

Neither one of you has much experience, so your kiss is full of bumping noses and lips that're smooshing together in excitement and neediness.

Pulling back for air, Coryo leans his forehead on yours and nearly pants, “Wait for me, Y/N.” His baby blues look so vulnerable as he pleads, “Please, wait for me.”

So, of course, you promise to wait for him.

And that promise is what's having Coryo kissing you and pawing at you, begging you to fuck him before he has to go away. To let him make you his girl in every sense of the word.

You're nervous, having never been with anyone before, but you agree to sleep with Coryo. You figure that he'll be sweet and gentle since he's never been with anyone either. You think that the two of you losing your virginity to each other will be romantic and like it's portrayed in novels and romcoms.

But it's anything, but that.

Coryo's got no idea what the hell he's doing once the two of you get naked. For all of his bravado and confidence around everyone in the public eye, he's just a touch starved boy that needs somebody to love him so much. So much that it's borderline pathetic.

But, he's obsessed with you. And that obsession gives way to him nervously slotted between your legs, kissing and sucking on your neck while fingering your tight virgin hole with his long, slender digits. He's a bit awkward with his movements at first, but after you tell him what feels good and what feels off he starts to get the hang of things.

Coryo's thumb experimentally presses into your clit, swiping it back and forth, as his fingertips press against that spongy spot hidden deep inside of your wet cunt. His fingers, long and slender, slip smoothly in and out of your pussy.

Your chest heaves up and down as you feel a tightness form in your lower belly. “Coryo, I think I'm close.” You tell the curly-haired blonde, voice a wavering gasp.

“Wait.” Coryo ordered, his baritone desperate as he ordered you not to cum. “I wanna be inside you when you cum.” He tells you, pulling his hand out from between your legs.

You've never had anyone, other than yourself, make you cum before- but you felt the need to cum right now, so despite the hesitation you felt about losing your virginity you agreed to let Coryo be your first. Be inside of you when you both cum.

As soon as you said okay Coryo placed a shaky hand on your thigh, holding your leg spread wide while using his other hand to help guide his fat cock inside of your tight, innocent hole. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you feel him push every large agonizing inch of his dick into your wet, but too tight pussy.

Coriolanus, being a greenboy in bed, had no idea what he was doing or how to make the first time not be so uncomfortable for you. All he had was his baser instincts to rely on.

You let out tiny whimpers as your best friend’s large cock tore you open; he let out a guttural moan at the tight feeling of you. And when he finally pushed past your barrier and fully sheathed himself inside of your snug, wet warmth the both of you let out high pitched moans and groans. Your sounds of first time pleasure and pain sounded like a beautiful duet in the still of the night.

Your cunt felt so good around his cock. So much better than his hand does when he jerks off. So much so, that Coryo couldn't control himself; he ruts into you at a fast and needy pace.

He can't help it. You just feel too damn good.

Since you're already at the tip of the edge, Coryo's frantic rutting doesn't bother you. In fact it makes your orgasm bubble up and over.

And he just continues fucking into you at a sloppy, desperate speed, as he ride out your high. Coryo buried his head of platinum curls into the crook of your neck as he groans and whimpers while chasing his release. He's desperate to cum, so his rutting gets quicker in a last-ditch effort to empty his aching balls; to relieve his throbbing 8 inches of hard cock.

Being inexperienced, it doesn't take Coryo too long to cum while whimpering your name desperately.

Coriolanus collapses on top of you, his body acting like a weighted blanket. He doesn't ask if you like it or if it was good. But he does kiss you and tell you that he's gonna miss your pussy when he's gone.

And that you better not let anyone else use your cunt while he's gone cause it's his to play with; nobody else's.

Without Coriolanus by your side you fell into a depression. Yes, you received letters from him and the occasional phone call, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't physically around, like he's always been, and it hurt.

It hurt so much.

So goddamn much.

You felt so alone…

You thought that you were doing good job of hiding your hurt, your depression and loneliness. But you weren't.

No.

Crassus noticed it right away.

And he tried to swoop in and put a smile on your face by asking about your day or by suggesting you read a certain book in the library, but it never worked. Nothing worked to put a smile on your face.

The only time a faint smile appeared on your face was whenever Crassus handed you a letter from his son while shifting thru the mail after coming home from work. You'd always snatch it from him with a smile on your face. One that never quite reached your eyes.

You cherished Coryo's letters. He always complained about District 8 in them, but he’d also write a few lines about his feelings towards you. Always told you to wait for him; that he'd figure out a way to return to you.

Crassus, as cold and unfeeling of a man as he was, never kept his son's letters from you despite the fact that the middle-aged man wanted you as his next wife. His future First Lady. And why didn't he keep them from you?

Because he wanted to woo you away from his son’s affections. Crassus wanted the knowledge that he pursued you, courted you, and gave you somebody to confide in all the while Coriolanus was sending you letters that were borderline love letters.

Crassus wants you to pick him over his son, not because he made you, but because you want to.

Because you want him.

And having Coriolanus thousands of miles away serving in 8 would definitely help out with you picking the older Snow…

Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

But you truly did hold onto hope that Coriolanus would make his way up the ranks and quickly. Your sanity depended on it.

Despite Crassus’ attempts in trying to console you, you missed Coryo and wanted him. At least Crassus’ suggestion of taking up a hobby to help clear your mind seemed to help a little.

And what hobby did you pick up?

Baking.

Baking helped you deal with the loneliness Coryo's absence brought you. It also helped you forge a friendship of sorts with Crassus since he became your official taste tester for your treats. Oh, and you just sprung that on him one day. You didn't ask him if he wanted to taste your homemade goodies, just shoved some cookies at him one day and told him to eat it and let you know if you needed to tweek anything.

Baking also helped you deal with Coriolanus' betrayal. A betrayal that, sadly, you heard about from his own father:

Crassus.

While baking some cookies for Yule, the phone rang. Since Grandma'am was old, hard of hearing, and taking a nap it was up to you to answer the phone. Especially since Crassus was at work. If he was home then he would've answered the phone.

But he wasn't home, so answering the phone fell on your shoulders.

You dusted your flour covered hands off on your apron while exiting the kitchen and making your way to the main sitting room of the house; where the phone was at. Sitting on the chair right next to the phone, you picked up the video phone and answered with a simply sweet hello.

Coryo's face appeared on the video screen. “Hi, my darling rose. I've missed you so much.” He greets you with a wide smile that shows off too many of his pearly whites. “I've got some great news, baby.”

But you didn't want to hear it.

No.

Not after what Crassus told you a couple of weeks back.

“I just took an Elite Officer's Placement Exam.” Coriolanus beamed, his cheeks hurting from smiling so manically.

But you weren't smiling. In fact, you didn't see how this news was great for you. Not with what you learned about him lately.

“I bet your district whore’s really happy about that.” You snidely remark, letting him know that you're aware of his cheating while stationed in 8.

The platinum blonde, who's sporting freshly buzzed hair, swallows a lump in his throat. He keeps a neutral face, but internally he's sweating bullets. He can't help, but wonder who told you that he had a district whore.

“I don't have anyone, but you, my darling.” Private Snow tells you in a voice that's as sweet as honey and as charming as ever. But the way he tilts his chin up ever so slightly and bats his long golden eyelashes portrays a fake innocence; manipulative nature about him.

One that you aren't sure you want to see thru.

But…

You decide that you need to confront Coryo with what Crassus told you.

Taking a deep breath, to calm your nerves and slow down your racing heart, you looked Coriolanus straight in his baby blues via the video screen and told him, “Crassus told me that a couple of his contacts in District 8 told him that you've been with a girl for a few weeks.”

Coryo's freshly shaven jaw ticks and his chest tightens slightly. His eyes widen for a split second, only to go back to their correct size. And then Coriolanus does what he's learned to do best while away in 8. He spins things to suit him; to favor his agenda- his wants, his endgame.

“Y/N, baby, listen to me, please-” Coriolanus gives you the believable explanation of, “I haven't been with anyone. All I did was turn in a thief, that was a girl, for punishment. She was whipped and I helped her out of the town square afterwards.”

A look of longing crosses over his face as he swears, “You’re my girl, darling. My one and only girl, who I'm doing everything I can to return to and be with.” He tickles your eyes with honied words of, “I impressed my superiors and they arranged for me to take the Elite Officer's Exam. After I receive my official passing results I'll be transfered to 2.” Coryo raises his hand and caresses the screen as if he was caressing your face. “Once I'm at the Nut I'll send for you.”

“What?” You asked, taken aback by the private's words.

“Officers, even ones in training, are allowed to have a girl if they want.” Coriolanus smiles brightly. “It's a reward for hard work and loyalty to the Capitol.”

“How long will it take you to send for me, Coryo?” You ask, sounding both curious and apprehensive.

“I surmise a month.” He told you, only to quickly follow it up with a desperate sounding, “But you can't tell my father about it. Promise me you won't tell him, Y/N.”

“Why can't I tell him? He's-” You began to ask, only for Coriolanus to cut you off with a loud snap of, “Because he'll try to stop you, Y/N!”

Coriolanus shook his head, only to explain in a whooshing baritone, “My father wants you all for himself; he'll never let you be with me. You can't trust him with our plans, Y/N.” Giving you a hard look, one he's learned as a peacekeeper, he orders in a way that seems like a well meaning suggestion, “If you're getting friendly or close to him, stop it. It'll only tear us apart.”

You worried your bottom lip as a sense of melancholy and, if you'll dare say, guilt, washed over you. You didn't want to lie to Crassus about the plans Coriolanus was striking up for you, especially since you've been growing close to his father.

You surely had a hard choice to make.

You had to decide whether or not to believe Coryo when he claims his faithfulness to you; to run away to be with him.

But could you truly believe that he didn't cheat on you, that he was just doing his job in turning in a thief; making sure she cleared the town square after her whipping.

“Time’s almost up, my darling rose, but I'll write.” Coryo told you, making you snap out of the mental blackhole you were falling into. “I love you.”

“Private Snow, time's up!” You heard a man from off screen loudly about at Coryo, causing him to hang up on you before you ever had a chance to say I love you back.

That night while Grandma’am's sleeping you're in the living room with Crassus, watching an old classic movie on CapitolTV. You're on the sofa, body softly nestled into his side while Crassus has an arm loosely slung around you.

To an outsider looking in you'd look like a couple. But you weren't a couple. Just friends.

Right?...

Just when the noir detective was about to press a bartender for information on the movie a breaking news alert broke out and interrupted the film.

“We're sorry to interrupt your current programming, but President Ravenstill is dead. He died this evening, in his bed. The president was sickly and his illness was progressing far worse over these last few days.”

Never had a president died in office in the history of Panem. Usually a president would step down if deathly ill or old and an election would be held to name a successor. But the incumbent president would not officially retire until a presidential replacement was elected.

President Ravenstill’s death turned the system upside down and on its head.

Crassus didn't even seem surprised about the president’s demise.

Well, he shouldn't be since he's been paying a contact of his in the Presidential Palace to slowly poison the president to make it look like the elderly man got sick and succumbed to his winter illness.

“What's going to happen to the country now that the President Ravenstill’s dead?” You ask, looking up at Crassus’ pale blue eyes with worry swimming in yours.

Eyes that're the same icy shade as his son's.

But his holds a coldness while Coriolanus seems to hold- well you can't quite put your finger on it, but the younger Snow's eyes don't light up the same as they used to.

That you're certain of.

“The Senate will rule over the country while the election process is out into motion.” Crassus simply explained. Smirking, he adds, “I’ll be tossing my name in the hat as a presidential candidate for the Old Guard.”

“You're going to run for President of Panem?” You ask the middle-aged man, who you’ve developed a tiny crush on over the last few months, as the breaking news story ended and the tv resumed playing the old classic movie.

“Yes.” Crassus nods. “I believe that I can successfully get this country into shape.” And you don't doubt it. He was a former general; a war hero too.

“Petal, you'll be baking all sorts of cookies and cakes in the Presidential Palace once I'm elected.” Crassus confidently told you. He was already making plans for the two of you to be in the Presidential Palace together. “Maybe you can even give the bakers some of your recipes to bake as well.”

“Maybe.” You reply while watching the movie on TV.

Everything feels so surreal right now. Your entire day feels like a dream.

A winter’s dream that can't be real, but in fact it's real. It's very real.

And to top off your day; mark the night as unbelievable, Crassus placed a hand on your chin only to tip your head to the side and capture your lips with a kiss.

A firm, but passionate kiss that caught you completely off guard.

A kiss that turned into other things…

Yule came and went and so did New Year's. Your relationship with Crassus had turned into something that maybe you shouldn't have let happen. Not when you're waiting for Coriolanus to send you word about his officer's promotion.

You knew that he passed his exams since Crassus told you. It was an offhand remark about how one of his sources in 8 told him that Coriolanus passed an Elite Officer's Exam and would be transferred to the Nut in 2. The older Snow also crudely remarked that he felt his son would be bringing his district whore with him to warm his bed.

And his words had an effect on you. A negative one that made you doubt Coryo's feelings for you; his promises and words as well.

Grandma'am was oblivious to your anxiety. The old woman was too busy being enamored by her son's presidential campaign. A campaign that was running smoothly despite it only being a month in. Grandma'am was positive that Crassus would win the nomination for the Old Guard party and would be one of the official candidates.

And Crassus…

Well…

He was so worried about his campaign and beating his opponents that he rarely noticed you, unless it was to blow your back out in bed. But you weren't complaining about that.

You're a human that craves closeness and touch, you'd be a fool to complain about Crassus fucking your brains out night after night.

But you often wonder if you're together only due to circumstances. Crassus has never told you ‘I love you’ like Coriolanus has. That small fact alone has you leaning towards Coryo's offer to run away and join him in 2 at the Nut.

Surely if Crassus cared about you, even held an ounce of love for you, he'd vocalize it. Right?

And one night when Crassus got home he shifted thru the mail and handed you a letter from Coriolanus. “He's at the Nut in 2 now.” Crassus announced- his line of sight on the return address on the envelope he was presenting you.

“You said he'd be transferred there.” You reply, taking the letter.

Crasuss nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I need to go over some papers for my campaign in my office, so you go ahead and read your letter.” Before walking off towards his office down the hall, he told you, “I’ll be a while, but I'll join you in my room later tonight, petal.”

Left alone, since Grandma'am was visiting the neighbor Pluribus, you took a seat on the sofa and opened the envelope, only to pull out the letter. When you unfolded it, a ticket fell out.

Your chest started to race as you realized it was a train ticket. Quickly, you began to read the letter Coriolanus sent you.

My darling rose,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner, but I was preoccupied with moving to the base on District 2. Living in the Nut, a base carved into a large mountain, is quite the adjustment. Also, my training has taken up most of my time too.

But, I promised to send for you once I was settled in, which is why I'm writing you this letter. Enclosed is a ticket for your passage to District 2. I'll be at the station waiting for you.

And please, my darling, pack light.

Love,

Your Coryo

Staring at the ticket in your hand, you realized that you had a choice to make. A hard choice.

Runaway to 2 and hope that Coriolanus truly does love you; that Crassus is wrong and that his son doesn't have a mistress.

Or…

Stay in the Capitol, where you feel safe, with Crassus who's on a quest to be elected president. But, you're so unsure of where things stand with him.

Maybe if you'd ask you'd get an answer, but you won't ask him. And he won't tell you.

In fact, Crassus thinks that everything's fine between the two of you.

But it's not fine.

Maybe he shouldn't have given you that letter, considering it contained a train ticket for the very next day.

But whatever path you choose, you'll be spurning a Snow.

You made your decision, so there's no turning back now.

Or at least that's what you tell yourself as you look out the window of your seat, watching the scenery while clutching your travel case. The canyons and mountains you see on your way to your destination amazes you. You've never seen anything like it in your entire life.

Yes, you've seen the Rockies from the Capitol, but they weren't like the jagged mountains that touched the clouds you're now seeing. No, the mountains you're seeing now look so majestic. Something that belongs to the world of the giants in the old myths from the Pre-Panem world.

You were on the train for nearly two days whenever you saw a sign reading 'District 2 Welcomes You' accompanied by the station’s large building in the distance.

This was it, you finally made it to 2.

You chose Coriolanus and you know that he'll be waiting for you on the platform.

And when you exit the train with your fellow passengers he's rushing towards you, wearing his officer's uniform complete with the gray cap, and you can't help but think that he looks so handsome. With a huge smile, you run up to Coryo.

And when you reach Coryo you drop your travel case and jump into his arms, that he's spread wide open as an invitation for you to hug him. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck while he holds you so tight. His head leans forward and he captures your mouth in a kiss that's passionate and desperate.

“I missed you so much, baby.” Coriolanus tells you between deep, heated kisses. Kisses that are more spit and teeth than soft pillowy lips pressing together.

Kisses that have nearby soldiers whistling and civilians shaking their heads in awe.

Coryo groans while pulling away from the kiss. Smiling, he caresses you cheek. “First things first, my darling. We need to get to the justice building and make you Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

“You want to marry me?” You ask in an awes whisper.

Of course Coriolanus wants to marry you. It's the only way to ensure that he wins. That he has you.

You being married to the young officer means that you'll never be free to be with his father, General Crassus Snow, ever again.

“Of course, I want to marry you, Y/N.” Coriolanus softly coos, unraveling your hands from his neck before bending down to pick up your discarded travel case. Pecking you on the cheek, much like Crassus had done the night before you left the Capitol, Coryo drapes an arm over your shoulder and urges, “Lets go get married, my darling.”

Once you left the Capitol and became the wife of Elite Officer Coriolanus Snow of Panem's Air Force you never saw Crassus again. Well, at least you never saw him in person. You did see him on campaign commercials and in campaign flyers.

You also got a letter from him once.

And only once.

All it said was:

Petal,

I hope that you're happy with the path that you have chosen. I'm afraid that in time you'll discover that your husband is not the man he portrays himself to be, but in fact a snake. I myself have never claimed to be a saint and I never hide my true nature from you. I am, however, truly sorry that your childhood friendship with Coriolanus was used to manipulate you into eloping with him.

I'm sad that I'll have to occupy the Presidential Palace alone; without the sweet smell of your baking wafting around the large kitchen. I shall miss your baking.

Lovingly yours,

Crassus

Crassus was elected President of Panem and he used his new position to unite the 12 districts with the long since destroyed 13. Crassus also pressed 2 to use their military academies to train children to become ruthless killers; volunteers for the games.

The Hunger Games.

Games in which children of both the Capitol and 13 were excused from. Capitol because it's the jewel of Panem, the ruling city. And 13 because that's the apple of Crassus' eye; where all of his nukes and weapons factories are. Also, 13 is the reason for him being filthy rich considering he's an arms dealer.

And when Dr. Gaul addressed President Crassus Snow with a law change that would drastically affect both the games and Panem as a whole, well, the spurned, cold man signed off on it.

You had 4 children with Coryo. And, sadly, they're all marked as District 2 born and bred citizens because of Dr. Gaul's amendment that all children born on PK bases would be district citizens; would have their names registered for The Hunger Games.

And since Coriolanus was stuck in 2 (he tried to get a transfer to 1 or the Capitol, but it was always denied) your children were also made to join the training academy for tributes.

And when your youngest son turned 18 he was voted by his class to volunteer as the male tribute that year.

When you saw the cold glint in your father-in-law’s icy eyes on the TV, during the tribute parade when the chariot for 2 rode up the Corso and made a stop at the platform Crassus was at, you knew without a doubt that your son being a tribute was punishment. Your punishment for leaving him and picking his son.

You and Coriolanus having to watch your youngest son, Javani, fight for his life in an arena that he should've never been in was unsettling, unfair, emotional, and nerve wracking.

All because you picked the son and not the father. If you picked Crassus your child wouldn't be running around in an arena, hand in hand with a girl from District 12 instead of staying with the career pack alliance. But you picked Coriolanus and now, 25 years later, that choice is biting you in the ass.

But at least you listened to your heart when you ran off to be with Coryo.

And Major Coriolanus Snow was obsessively in love with you. So much so that his infatuation with you grew every second of the day.

But that doesn't lessen the pain in knowing that your son's fighting for his life because of the father you chose for him.

All you can do is hope and pray to the gods that Javani uses both his brawn and his brain to find a way to survive the games. But his possessiveness over the tribute girl from 12, who's his age, concerns you. Because there can only be one winner.

It's like that in both the games and life.

And Coriolanus was the winner of your heart.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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comingyourlugubriousness · 17 hours

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"Oh geez I'm so clumsy; how embarrassing! Huh, oh! You'll help me up? T-thank you!"

A BELLE OF DA BALL Yume for @starry-night-rose's Glimmering Soirée! I saw a lot of people doing this event and have been wanting to draw for it for awhile. Unfortunately, I've been sick the past week.

I went for a more femme design since my last two designs for Yume were more masculine; plus I just think dresses are more fun to draw. Heavily inspired by Cinderella's dress with my own takes.

During the event Yume isn't trying to be the belle of the ball themselves (that would be mortifying), they are actually heavily advocating for their brother Yuuta! (@bunnwich)

They are assisting the Prince's with their duties (mostly Deuce while avoiding Azul) while keeping and eye on Grim to make sure he's acting right! They're also taking pictures of everyone in their fancy clothes; partially bc Crowley told them too and partially for their own scrapbook.

VOICE LINES UNDER THE CUT:

Summon: You my friend, will be da belle of da ball!

Groovy: Everyone here tonight… don’t they kind of look like stars in the night sky…Hey! Don’t laugh! Haha! Was that too cheesy?

Set Home: We’re all bedazzled up!

Home Idle: Azul tried to get me to sign some contract in order to” secure my brother's win”. Pff! Nice try, four eyes; do you think I’ve learned nothing?

Idle 2: When I walked up to Deuce and he gave me a big fancy greeting! He was so proud of himself; I didn’t have the heart to tell him he curtseyed at me…He’s not really cut out for princely stuff…

Idle 3: *whining* Kalim! Please don’t keep making me dance in these shoes! My feet are killing me *fake sob* who makes glass shoes anyway…

Idle Groovy: Malleus came up to ask what was wrong with his Tamagotchi and everyone in the room gave us a wide berth. Is it that serious? He’s just some guy?

Home Login: Oh man…I don’t wanna think about how long it’s gonna take to clean all this glitter up.

Tap: The Royal Sword Academy students keep coming up to greet me oh so politely. Something about it kinda gets on my nerves…

Tap 2: Hey, didja see Grim’s vest? I made it myself. It took me hours to bedazzle the whole thing!

Tap 3: Ugh…I feel like everyone's looking at me…maybe this outfit was a bad idea…

Tap 4: Hey, if you see Vil; don’t tell him I’m not voting for him. It’s nothing personal…!

Tap 5: *sigh* I need a break. Hey, do you wanna go sit on the balcony with me? I’d prefer the company of the stars right now.

Tap Groovy: Oh! Wait right there! Let me get a picture of you in your outfit! You look amazing! Ready? Cheese!

Here is some sketchy draft for the dress too:

#twst oc #twisted wonderland #yume ume #twst fanevent #yuusona #disney twisted wonderland #glimmering soirée #Q #glimmering soiré #myart #pumpkinart #twst mc #twst wonderland #disney twst #q

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psuedosugu · 20 hours

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thinking about suguru with a siren reader…

notes: this has been in my drafts for a hot hot minute and i hope yall see my vision also i made a discord server that you guys should join 😊

- the job of a siren was a simple one. sing your melody, entrance the captain just enough so that they would crash the ship, and done.

you never felt any guilt for what you did. these men were trespassers, after all, littering and casting their nets in your sea. sometimes you wonder how one could be so inconsiderate.

one particular night, the sea swirled around you, your only source of light being the stars twinkling and the fire that had started on the now crashed ship, impaled by a sharp rock. men jumped off of the slowly sinking wreck, soon drowning in the harsh, cold water. you watched from a distance, with a sense of pride in your chest—

and then you spotted something. or someone, for that matter. he was young, couldn’t be older than 20, with long dark hair. you weren’t exactly sure of what about him caught your eye so fast, but you were enthralled.

you swam closer to the burning ship, desperate to get a closer look. he had a look of terror in his eyes, debating on whether to jump or not. as the fire spread more and more, he realized he had no choice, bracing himself and leaping into the dark mass of water.

you freeze, unsure of what to do. you’re supposed to leave him alone, to let him face his watery grave. he brought it onto himself, anyways, and direct interaction with humans is forbidden in the pod, lest you be captured and their cover blown, but….

you sigh, swimming to where the nearly unconscious man bobbed above and below the water and propelling to the nearest land available, a remote island just a few miles away. once you arrive, you plop him exhaustedly onto the sand.

“hello? hellooooo? are you dead? i hope you’re not dead, that means i dragged you out here for nothing. helloooo??” suguru wakes up to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your damp hand lightly slapping him on the cheek.

he’s…..relaxed at first. your voice was like a symphony, a contrast with your harsh words. it made him feel so warm…

and then he remembered. crash. fire. sinking. and the deep, dark cold.

he sits up with such fervor that you flinch, shifting slightly away. “where…what- what happened? they’re- they’re all dead, aren’t they? oh god- oh god, oh god, oh god oh god oh god-“ he mutters under his voice, hyperventilating. you sit there, indifferent to his panic.

“um….are you…okay?” you asked. he darts his eyes towards you. you were beautiful, with looks that were almost hypnotic. hen his eyes darted down to your tail, shiny and greenish. he shifted back, not completely sure if he was hallucinating or not.

“…what- what are you?” he stammered out with wide eyes. you shrug. “you know, i was more expecting a ‘thank you for saving my life,’ but thats a fine enough reaction, i guess,” you said matter-of-factly, with a somewhat amused smirk on your face.

“no- i, i need to get back, i-“ you eye him. “well, there isn’t much land close to over here sooo…id say your chances of being rescued are pretty slim.” you shrug. his eyes are wide, not believing what was happening. this was a dream. this was a dream and he would wake up any minute now, right? but the sand underneath him, and the soft breeze hitting his face felt all too real.

“….well?” you frowned, folding your arms. “you gonna do anything other than looking shellshocked?” humans are boring, you realized. you two sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few more seconds before you turned around to leave. the pod would start looking for you soon, after all, but then—

“wait!” you paused at the mans voice. “don’t go yet.”

“….why?”

he hesitated. “how does that….thing work?” he asked, pointing to your tail. you shrugged in response, “same as a fish, id suppose.”

“what’s your name?”

“[name]. yours?”

“suguru.”

—and then marked the start of a strange routine. you’d sneak out to go visit suguru when you could. he fed on wild fruits and berries, keeping himself alive. sometimes you’d bring him some food yourself.

you liked how he reacted to things. he was unique, a new specimen for you to observe, and as the almost complete isolation started to drive him mad, you turned into the anchor he clung on.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #getou suguru #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader

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mrinafria · 1 day

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Just last night I was sitting there going through my edit drafts, and I looked at this scene, to notice all these things Seon Jae does before/during the live radio call.

Really wasn't going to write about OG Seon Jae after my last post on him. I never knew I had such a masochistic side to me until Lovely Runner because all I've done since this show started is go back to rewatch episode 1-4, over and over and over and over again as if this was a hell loop I created for myself.

There's hope, anticipation, a bit of excitement too. He will hear her voice. Again. He will get to talk to her. For the first time. Yeah. The OG Seon Jae never got to talk to Im Sol. He admired her, crushed on her, liked her, observed her, tried whatever he could as a 19yo to save her, but he never, ever got to talk to her. This is the very. first. time. he's able to have a conversation with her.

But she doesn't pick up. And he has to put a leash on his emotions in those few seconds because this version of Ryu Seon Jae stopped showing his true emotions long back. Ah, this was the only chance I had. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could hear her voice. I wish I could know how she's been doing. Just once. Just this one time.

He introduces himself using his name. Not along with his band name, which is the usual practice, mind you. And a very little pause before going "Do you know me?"

Sometimes when you long for a person, crave for their voice, their smile, their presence in your life and your world, you desperately want to be present in their world too, no matter how trivial your presence or your existence might be to them. Seon Jae hoped she would remember; even if she didn't consider him her savior (which he never thought he was) he desperately wanted some semblance of familiarity in her voice, even if it was out of nothing but resentment. Maybe even something as painful as How dare you call me.

And she does share her resentments, not towards Seon Jae the 19yo boy who she doesn't remember, but Ryu Seon Jae the idol, along with everyone present there, for putting her through this misery, triggering her worst trauma and twisting the knife in her wound that has already driven her to the brink of ending it all. Everyone is uncomfortable here, except for this one guy. He's back to reliving that incident that forever changed her life, his life and brought them to this moment here. He is reminded of just how big of a failure he is, for failing this one person he never wanted to fail. He is reminded how a moment of indecision/inaction on his part led to the person he loves the most to be this miserable. In this moment above, you look at him and realize it's no longer Ryu Seon Jae; it's the 19yo Seon Jae, the one at the reservoir, the one who kept chanting mianhae to an unconscious Im Sol, the one who waited on that bench while she underwent surgery--clutching on to the watch in anguish as if that was the only thing keeping him from falling apart--the one who stood by her hospital door, listening to her screams while shattering into a million pieces inside. It's the 19yo Seon Jae who would be haunted by her screams and live for the remainder of his brief life in extreme guilt and regret mixed with intense longing, until he meets his untimely demise on that fateful night.

I often wonder if he could sense it from her voice on the call. Just how close she was to the edge, how she was probably going to do something that very day right after the call ended. Was it because he felt her pain as if it were his own? You see him springing to action right when we think it's over, as if he is desperate to help her, any. way. he. can. You see how restless his eyes get all of a sudden? He likely wants to say so many things to her. Sol-ah, I'm glad to hear your voice. Sol-ah, I'm sorry. Sol-ah, I hope you are okay. Sol-ah, I'm grateful you are here. Sol-ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't do better. I'm so sorry I failed to wake you up. I'm sorry I let you miss your stop. I'm sorry I didn't reach you sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't be more careful. You can hate me all you want. I'll live the rest of my life being sorry to you. You don't have to forgive me. I'm fine as long as you're okay, you're fine, you're happy. Sol-ah, I miss your smile. I miss the sound of it. I miss knowing you're happy somewhere, even if I am nowhere in your somewhere. Sol-ah, thank you. Sol-ah, please, please live.

But oh, he can't say any of that to her now. So all he says is "Thank you, for living. The ones by your side will thank you for that". And yes, he means himself.

He wanted to be the umbrella she once was to him, the gift she has been to him all his life, both literally and figuratively. And because Ryu Seon Jae is a person who will receive the affection/love you give with the utmost appreciation, increase it 10x more and return it to you gift-wrapped with sparkly ribbons, he chooses to be her umbrella this way, the only way he can.

He wanted to pull her out of the reservoir, literally and figuratively, so she could live. He didn't mind spending all his life stuck in that reservoir himself.

This was supposed to be a response to @thedeathdeelers rewatch post here and as usual, it ended up being a mess of feels (why do I even try really) I swear atp I feel like we're the same person watching feeling the same things lmao. You, don't ever shut up about this show please :')

p.s. I love writer Lee Si Eun for ultimately wanting to save THIS OG Ryu Seon Jae, and therefore initiating the memory flashback with pieces from this timeline. Although my heart will forever ache for this OG boy, it finds some comfort in that.

#Lovely Runner #Byeon Woo Seok #Kim Hye Yoon #Sun Jae #Im Sol #Seon Jae #선재 업고 튀어 #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #east asian drama #episode reaction #I actually didn't notice him not clapping until my third rewatch #and I was never the same once I watched the two povs side by side #I LOVE THIS SHOW #if you couldn't tell already #will keep shouting in the vacuum even if I'm the last person to do so *sob*

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goodluckclove · 2 days

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How Clove Gardener Writes (an Overview)

I definitely told myself when I started this blog a billion years ago, at the dawn of human civilization, that I wouldn't make any attempt to tell you how to write. You know - other than saying just do it do the thing write it close the blog open the document type type three sentences bam look you did it good job i love you now go get yourself a treat.

But I've spoken to a few writers who seem to benefit from the insight of me just explaining how I write. So I thought I'd give a little peek into my own mindset. I cannot stress enough that this is what works for me. It's a methodology that I've built up over the course of like fifteen years of trying different things, keeping what works, and throwing the rest right out the goddamned window.

If any of this seems new and appealing give it a try. If it doesn't help I'm wrong and bad as a person (no I'm kidding but seriously if it doesn't work that's fine and we're both fine). If it helps you owe me a picture of a frog drawn from memory.

Let's see how long I ramble. Follow me under the read more!

Okay, so let's get this out of the way. I've never taken a writing class. No, that's not true. I took one when I was thirteen and another one in high school and I don't remember anything either of them taught me. Oh and I took an online creative writing class in college, but I also didn't retain anything and the next year I dropped out of college. So I also don't have a degree in jack shit.

What else? I don't outline. I've written upwards of 15 novels (13-15, I honestly can't remember) and I did not outline any of them. This includes character sheets and worldbuilding lore. My first published novel Blind Trust was born from the concept of the Lover's Knot, which is just like some witchy magic lore. I thought it would be cool so I was like "who could maybe be some guys" and then I introduced some guys and then bam 180k later it was Scott and Edgar.

I do virtually no preparation to write a novel other than the vaguest premise and maybe like one cool scene. I did not have a cool scene for Blind Trust, but I do have one for Migration Patterns. What I don't have is an ending. I don't think I've ever written a novel knowing how it ends.

Literally here's what I do. This is all I do. I sit down and I write until I don't know what's going to happen next, at which point I step away and I listen to some music or I go to the museum or I take a nap until I decide how to continue. That's it.

For me it's going to the zoo every day and seeing the monkeys. And every day they're doing something different. Sometimes they're sleeping, or they're pawing at each other, or they're gathering sticks. I can call out to them and offer to show them a card trick or share my Bugles with them, and they might come up to the wall of the enclosure to see what I'm doing. Or they might not. I do not really have control of the situation, but it doesn't matter because they aren't fully aware of me.

At some point either I have to leave the zoo for some reason. Maybe I'm tired, or maybe the monkeys have been pulled in to be fed their lunch (it's bananas and peanuts). Either way I add that day's behavior to the pile and then come back tomorrow.

Once I find an ending I go back and I read through the book again and trim any fat that's in the wrong places while adding flesh to some naked bones. Then I wait a week or more (usually I can only wait a week) and go back and do it again. By that point it's ready to hopefully have someone read it, after which I make small edits and tweaks.

That's how I do it. Or at least, that's how I do it for longform prose projects that I plan to publish. I've written plenty of novels that just stayed first drafts because I didn't feel like revising them and then I moved on to the next one. I don't regret that. I don't consider it a waste of time.

I would never consider a trip to the zoo a waste of time.

Anyways, that's what works for me. I don't know if all of this will apply to other brains. I don't know if any of it will. I figure it might just be useful to get an in-depth look at what I personally vibe with.

I'm so down to talk writing at any time, by the way. I love to do it. Tell me why you aren't writing and I would be happy to listen and try to help. Or just brainstorm. Seriously, my DMs and inbox are perpetually open. Talking about writing is one of my favorite things to do.

Let's go look at some monkeys together.

#writeblr #writing community #on writing #writing resources #writers of tumblr #authors of tumblr #writing #writers on tumblr #actually writing

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aquaregiaart · 17 days

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Haleth & Caranthir.

#this has been sitting on my drafts for so long...#haleth #caranthir #i did try something so different here #idk idk #silmarillion art #silmarillion #how do you tag things anymore my god #feanorians #my silm

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bertoyana · 17 days

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funniest thing to #Me about the use of charles' telepathy in charles' and erik's relationship in the prequels is how both of them suck SOOO bad at using it LMAOOOO

like, you'd think having a telepath in the dynamic would actually help things along with the communication, but they are both USELESS at making use of it

charles will use it to crossdress erik and tell angel how much he wants to fuck him and erik will use it to tell charles how much he wants to be controlled, but that's ALL they use it for. it's not even horny or funny anymore it's just SAD, man. they suck so bad at it

(the only time they ever make good use of it is when charles unburied one of erik's memories with his mother, and that's it)

erik just automatically assumes charles knows everything and that he knows WHY erik does the things he does (because charles is in his head, so he MUST know, right?) and charles automatically assumes erik understands the hidden meaning of every single thing he says (because erik is also in charles' thoughts, so he SHOULD know, right?)

(wrong. they are both stupid and they will keep going in circles for 30 years straight)

like. take their first interaction in xma as an example

(on the other hand, i don't even want to think about the "you are looking in the wrong place" line because it makes me want to k1ll myself in front of the writers)

they are in each other's heads right now, and yet they are not even LISTENING to each other, they are just going in circles because both of them are too wrapped up in erik's own grief to actively try to hear what the other is trying to say. and while you can tell charles is hurting for erik and wants to help him, he's probably not going about it the best way

also if you pay attention at the start of the scene, when erik feels charles in his mind he just... looks confused, curious maybe, as to why charles is there, but he doesn't get angry or defensive straight away. he just lost his family for the second time (simon kimberg i'm in your walls) so he's probably even welcoming the only familiar thing he still has left.

he doesn't get defensive UNTIL charles starts talking and just kind of... also starts putting his own foot into his mouth. bless his heart.

and the thing is, while they get interrupted by apocalypse... being there lmao, i don't think this would have pan out any different if it was just the two of them. as i said, they are not listening to each other. charles means well but he's not really listening to what erik is trying to tell him, and in response to this erik is rejecting any type of help charles wants to give him.

and we know apocalypse was using erik's grief (about magda and nina, about the camps) to manipulate him - *we* as an audience know that, but back in this scene, charles doesn't even NOTICE apocalypse. and this, plus the fact that as we've established, they SUCK at trying to listen to each other and communicate, just brings the entire thing to failure.

(also imagine being the most powerful telepath in the world and being too focused on your best friend to notice the god standing a few steps away from him... which could mean nothing)

(mind you. they are literally in each other's heads rn. they can hear what the other is thinking and feeling. AND YET)

and it's even funnier (no) how they are even WORSE without charles' telepathy. take as an example, both of their fights in the plane in dofp

from charles' point of view, erik was the one that left him. erik literally and physically LEFT him in cuba, took the only teleporter there was and left charles to bleed out (lmao). meanwhile, from erik's point of view, he might have left first physically, but he only did so after charles rejected him. so, from HIS point of view, charles was the one to pull away FIRST. when he told him they didn't want the same thing (rejecting erik's ideals and by thus rejecting erik himself as well)

(and charles also let erik to rot in prison for 10 years so he could be also referring to that lmao)

this also brings me to my other point. which is something that i do think is pretty much ignored by everyone, but to be fair, it's also ignored by the movie so,

and it's the fact that the movie establishes that erik has been isolated for 10 YEARS. again, we as the audience know that charles has been struggling for the past 11 years, we know he did all he could for the mutants and we know he's been struggling, and we also know he's been using the serum because he couldn't stand the voices.

mind you, erik doesn't know any of this. not only because he's been in prison for 10 years (and i doubt they let him keep up with the news) but also because charles doesn't tell him any of this (fair)

and the last thing erik said to charles before they parted ways in cuba was that they wanted the same thing, which charles denied.

so from erik's point of view, all that he knows is that charles promised him all those years ago that he wasn't alone, and then he rejected erik in cuba, sent him away, and then proceeded to give up on erik and on their cause by doing nothing when the mutants were being tortured and experimented on. and he started using the serum and living with hank like a normal human being, sacrificing his powers and 'betraying' their cause.

ofc none of this is what actually happened, and *we* know that. but erik doesn't. and for some reason??? that i find extremely hilarious??? no one ever BOTHERS to correct erik's assumption, lmao. also none of this ever comes up again in the movies which to me just means erik went on believing that charles just briefly gave up on their cause for 10 years LMAOOO

okay, moving on bc i still have things to yap about

the other plane scenes comes in. erik shows up with the chessboard, they actually DO talk a bit and erik tells him he didn't mean to kill jfk (can't believe i wrote that down these movies were insane) and then they settle to play chess. AAAND this scene comes in

and he apologizes for SHOOTING charles, because he never meant to hurt him, and he does regret that. but he's not apologizing for leaving, because, once again, from his point of view, charles left HIM

and then charles hits him with the most pathetic saddest wettest expectant look in existence (james mcavoy you are insane) because he thinks erik is going to apologize for leaving

and then erik hits him with this LMAOOO

and charles realizes erik is apologizing for shooting him (something i'm pretty sure charles didn't exactly blame him for? his biggest accusation was that erik abandoned him)

and you can see charles literally and figuratively backtracking and shutting down immediately AGAIN.

(because, again, charles thinks erik left him, and erik should apologize for that, but from erik's pov? charles rejected him, he pulled away FIRST so he wasn't the first to abandon the other. charles was)

(they both are wrong and right in a way. they also don't tell each other any of this)

then it's erik's turn to give charles the wettest and saddest look known in mankind, charles shuts down, refuses to even look at erik, he changes topics and erik lets him.

(they never talk about this again, btw)

(it probably blew up in their faces in genosha. i just know they make everyone's life miserable as hell in there . god bless)

anyways, i'm sure someone smarter than me could make a more interesting analysis of how you can tell they do genuinely care about each other, but their failing to communicate properly just brings them to their fall down over and over. especially because it's something that keeps blowing up in their faces all the time in the prequels. something something the failure of telepathy something.

#tbf to erik charles DID tell him he knew everything abt him in xmfc so you cant blame a man for taking things literal #cherik #x-men #long post #meta #text #otp: i want you by my side #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #since ppl liked me yapping abt them in dp i thought i should post this that has been sitting on my drafts forever #yapping*

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