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#by suggesting trinket died as well
i-would-f-me · 18 days
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sal fisher headcanons
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i've literally never been so horrendously down bad for a character before.. so i HAD to share my head canons for sal :3
CW: NSFW AHEAD!!
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fluff <3
♡ he would try to teach you guitar, even if you arent very good at it...
♡ if you have sh scars, he'd kiss them over and over and over again, no matter where they are
♡ blushes over everything you do, any little touch you give him, he gets flustered over
♡ "ummmmm... uhh- i- well.. umm"
♡ he loves giving you things. for whatever reason, he's always gifting you small trinkets to show his love for you. his favorite excuse for buying you something is "it reminded me of you!"
♡ not the kinda guy who goes for looks. no matter how 'ugly' you think you are, he'll wholeheartedly see you as the most beautiful person in the world.
♡ with that being said.. he'd definitely stop in his tracks if he saw a cutie :3
♡ (IT'S YOU, YOU'RE THE CUTIE. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS HIS TYPE. GOD, HOW ARE YOU SO PERFECT FOR HIM??)
♡ if you ever mention something in a conversation (a band you like, a cool movie you just watched or a book you read, etc.) he's definitely going home and learning all he can about it.
♡ wholesome romance like those in the romcom movies
♡ "i love everybody because i love you" /ref /ly
♡ would totally let you paint his nails, do his hair, anything like that. he loves when you make him feel pretty <3
♡ doesn't want anyone to know this, but he loves wearing your clothes. like, you know the whole "wearing you bf's jacket/hoodie" thing? that's what he wants, but with your clothes.
♡ obviously he won't deny you his hoodie, but deep down he's waiting for you to give him yours
♡ LOVES giving long, deep, passionate hugs. hugs and cuddle sessions that can go on for an hour. he loves squeezing you against him, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside; being so close to someone he loves so much
♡ he WILL sniff you. he can't get enough of your scent. at first he was scared you would think it was weird, but now he does it freely. he's a very sensual person, and because of his disability (possibly impaired sight?), he often relies on his other senses to soak up every little piece of you.
♡ he loves wrapping you in his arms, cradling and comforting you if he knows you need it.
♡ he's excellent at reading you. he feels like he knows you best. despite being someone who can't really show his emotions through his expressions, he's amazing at reading yours.
♡ you don't even have to tell him anythings wrong. he knows when you need a hug.
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nsfw :3
♡ definitely has a mommy kink. argue with the wall.
♡ it just slipped out one day.. you were riding him, making him feel good and warm, and all of a sudden he let out a small "m-mommy..!"
♡ that being said, he LOVES having you on top of him
♡ while you're straddling him, he grabs you by your hips to make sure you're not going anywhere
♡ very shy + whimpering mess
♡ the kind to not know where to put his hands
♡ that doesn't mean he sometimes doesn't have a dom side to him...
♡ he's definitely a giver. he prioritizes your pleasure before his own
♡ he's insecure about his ability to turn you on, make you cum, etc. he always tries his hardest to make you feel good, and lets just say it always works :3
♡ jerks off to the thought of you more than he would like to admit
♡ has a VERY vivid imagination.
♡ oh god the things he thinks about doing to you are almost to embarrassing for him to admit
♡ very sweet and loving the whole time. he's huge on praise, and would rather die than ever make you uncomfortable. your sessions are filled with millions of
"are you liking that?" "you're doing so good for me." "are you okay with this?" "you feel amazing (y/n)"
♡ he needs 100% confirmation on your dirty suggestions. you could make a hint, but won't act on it until he's absolutely sure you mean it (obviously you always do, but god is this boy insecure.)
♡ doesn't seem like it, but will fuck you like a rabbit. it's always the quiet, sweet boys who are the dirtiest behind closed doors :3
♡ likes being bitten. idk. idc. IDGAF.
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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months
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Hi there! I'm a huge fan of your work, and I was wondering if you could help flesh out a vilain idea I had? I have a basic setup, but no idea how to make him a rounder character.
The gist of it is a fey king whose queen died, so, driven mad with grief and incredibly deep in denial, he reaches out into the Material Plane and kidnaps women who resemble his queen, forcibly altering their minds and bodies through fell magic to transform them into reincarnations of his queen. He keeps failing as the magic instead transforms them into horribly broken and mutated horrors, driving him to more desperate measures.
Other than that, I have no idea how to develop him further or devise an end to his evil :(( so any tips on villain development would be greatly appreciated :))
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Adventure: A Covetous Love
Friend, you don't need to make your villain a rounder character, you just need to refocus your narrative onto the genuinely horrific scenario you've created where a series of women have their identities torn away piece by piece. How does it feel to go through it? What must it be like for their friends and family to watch as the woman they knew is replaced by some cruel parody in line with a stranger’s lusts?  Refocusing the story on the current victim likewise gives the story human stakes, and allows the party a good entrypoint into this ongoing tragedy with the chance of possibly preventing it from repeating. 
Before we get into the story itself, here’s a few more ideas I’m going to suggest: 
Rather than kidnapping outright, the fey lord visits his victims in disguise courting them as if he were a wealthy, charming suitor. He offers jewelry and trinkets and other fine things, all infused with the essence of his beloved, and as each of them is accepted the victim becomes a little bit more and more like his queen. A silver comb that turns her hair into HER hair, a cup of wine that fills her dreams with memories of their pramanades through faerie together, makeup that not only wipes out any flaws but transforms the face into a mask of bloodless porcelain perfection. 
Likewise, the transformation process specifically fails because the fey’s expectations are too much. If he were willing to settle for someone who only reminded him of his bride, or gods help him strike out on some new course, he could theoretically be happy… but because he keeps trying to make his victims MORE he ends up with an idea that collapses in on itself, something too perfect to live or even maintain a coherent form. 
To really drive home the tragedy of the horror, I’m going to suggest that the current victim is a woman trapped in either a political marriage or one that’s long gone cold. The fey will exploit her genuine desire for romance and affection, as well as her longing to escape the cage of her life, making the offer of becoming someone else (even if it means dying in the process) all the more tempting. This makes it so that the hinge point of the adventure isn’t just a “rescue the princess” matter of getting her away from the fey, but confronting her as a person and trying to persuade her that there’s some other path to freedom than letting herself be eaten by some otherworldly waifu. 
This setup also gives the party a great secondary antagonist to clash against: the jealous mortal husband, someone who technically WANTS the same thing as the party and has the resources at his back, but will actively drive the victim into the fey’s arms every time he gets involved. He wants to save the victim, but doesn’t care about her happiness, in fact he may be intent on punishing her for her infidelity. He’s there to show why the victim wants to leave. 
Adventure Hooks: 
The party first encounter Lady Melanie Kerridell while out in the wilderness when a stag she’s hunting blunders into their path/camp, on horseback, weapon in hand and her fine clothes streaked with mud. She’ll berate them if they let the beast escape or steal the kill for themselves, but half way through will stagger and lose track of where she is. Just about then a group of her friends and servants will crash through the foliage in a desperate state, as Melanie was out with them having a country luncheon when she spotted the stag, grabbed a weapon from the guards, and took off after it.  This is not the first time this has happened, Lady Kerridell is about half way transformed into the Green-Eyed-Queen and she’s letting herself slip more and more. A concerned friend will invite the party back with them to the estate, and then politely broach the topic about how they might “look in” on Melanie and what might be causing her to act this way. 
The party receive a letter from Lady Kerridell, begging for their help ridding her manor of a haunting, of a monster that has been wandering her home at night wearing her face. When they seek her out however they find her beautiful and cruel and with no idea whatsoever who sent them the letter, despite it bearing her seal.
Lord Edrick Kerridell catches the party snooping around and offers to pay them if they can track down the young dandy he’s seen his wife sneaking off into the gardens to neck with. He wants to know just who the man is before he decides what to do with him, just incase these pricy gifts are from the vault of some other great family. When the party do find the dandy,  he’ll lead them on a merry chase through the town, dragging them all into the feywild if they manage to corner him. 
The local jeweler needs some help investigating a robbery, a few pieces were stolen, but the prize of the take was a staggeringly beautiful necklace of gold and jade, which he was in the middle of repairing. Strangeness surrounds the case: the dandy who delivered the necklace made no secret that it was for a married woman and as the jeweler worked on it he couldn’t shake the feeling of some kind of presence skirting around the edge of his workshop.  When the party find the thief they’ll find her in a bit of a state, having put on the necklace and been influenced by the fey-bride’s mind, she now finds herself driven to heist the home of Lady Berridale. Ostensibly this is for more riches, but the shard of the green eyed queen seeks to complete herself, which will likely result in one of the two womens’ deaths. 
Art
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ecoamerica · 20 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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fun-k-board · 1 year
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CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!
AVATAR 2009 with a Human ! S/O who adores Christmas
Characters included: Jake Sully, Neytiri, Tsu'Tey
Pronouns: They / Them
Relationship: Romantic
When text is in bold that means it's spoken in Na'vi, I have no clue if Na'vi have gender neutral language so sorry if this isn't accurate.
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Jake Sully
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Jake never understood about Christmas, he wasn't one of the lucky few on Earth who had a rich family nor did his family particularly show an overabundance of affection.
He and his brother weren't to close, it hurt when he died of course, but at the end of the day he wouldn't see him for years when he went to Pandora anyway.
So, your sadness over not being able to celebrate it was confusing, but Jake cared for you and tried to comfort you despite this.
"You don't look so good." Jake mumbled and sat down next to you, his eyes stared into you intently as he waited for a response.
"I just miss my family, we use to celebrate Christmas and..." You trailed off, your ears down and tail curling on your thigh. A whimper escaped you as tears began welling in your eyes.
"Oh." He paused, sucking in a large breath "I'm sorry. Maybe we could make last minute presents for each other?" Jake quietly suggested, pulling a shy smile that showed off his sharp teeth.
"That'd be nice..." You quietly whispered, smiling back softly at him while you tried wiping away your tears as calming your breaths.
And so you made whatever you thought would be best for Jake, I could imagine him getting you a weapon or maybe some type of neckwear that would give you a sense of pride.
He doesn't really try to expand it to Neytiri given the cultural differences, but I see Norm getting into the holiday spirit, maybe Grace if her present is a cigarette.
Neytiri
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Neytiri taught you and Jake the ways of the Na'vi, to which you both listened, adapted and overcame the differences in your cultures.
However, you still missed your old life. As horrible, polluted and poor Earth became, you still missed family. Apart of family was Christmas, giving to others even outside of who you considered family just to see their smiles, it was something you hadn't experienced in years. You missed that. And you'd never get it back.
"There is something on your mind." Neytiri plainly stated, her words catching you off guard, looking you up and down as she handed food to Jake on her right.
"It's a time of year at home." He replied, looking to me in pity. "Where you can participate in a tradition on Earth, I'll let them explain the details if they want." Jake awkwardly looked away, munching on an unnaturally large amount of teylu. Neytiri turned to me expectantly.
"It's one about family and giving, cherishing those you love, those and even the things around you." You nodded as you spoke even if there was no reason to, awkwardly smiling while Neytiri smiled sweetly.
"It sounds like a wonderful tradition. What is it called?" Her stare bore into your eyes, her own were soft.
"Christmas." You sighed, continuing only because the silence would be unbearable. "We hurt our great mother and caused a lot of pain, it became harder and harder to celebrate as time continued. Now almost nobody truly celebrates it as it was intented, instead a shallow reminder of what it originally was." Neytiri held your hand and nodded.
"I am understanding of your pain, I hope all sky people learn to see as you and Jake have."
She doesn't go out of her way to celebrate it, but notes the general time it happens around and maybe gives you little trinkets that would be meaningless to most.
I can definetly imagine Neytiri showing you in depth Na'vi culture, as she already does, but with more pride as she realises how important you can take cultural and traditional events. But, most of all I imagine you'd be spending time with each other, even if she personally doesn't believe in Christmas, she believes in you. Neytiri sees you.
Tsu'Tey
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He mainly made fun of you and Jake for being 'demons', so getting to know you was a lengthy process and required patience on both ends.
Given you were already learning of Na'vi culture from Neytiri, he didn't find the need to teach you anything other than fighting and flying, so when you asked him about something the explanation was very short and simple.
Tsu'tey couldn't say he was too interested in sky people or their traditions, but he noticed you weren't doing too well for the past few weeks. Your sour mood showed in your training and pushed you back, so it was garunteed he would speak on it eventually.
"Why are you sitting here? The ikrans are-" He was momentarily stopped in his words by your tear stained face. Not only was your face uncanny for him with your features unlike natural Na'vi, but beyond that, you were hurt.
"What... What is bothering you?" You noticed his switch to English as hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder, lowering into a kneel as he stared deep into your eyes.
"Us human- uh, sky people, have a tradition." You began, Tsu'tey was interested in your words and the curious look he had told you to continue "This time we begin giving gifts, we spend more time with family, friends and... Significant others." You coughed shyly, unsure of the word in Na'vi before remembering "Mates." You clarified.
"It sounds like a prosperous time for your people." He nodded respectfully, holding your hand and looking comfortingly into your eyes. "I see your pain, and I am sorry brother/sister."
He, like Neytiri, doesn't go out of his way to celebrate. Mainly taking part in spending time and showing how much he loves you. Sometimes it can be awkward and stiff, but Tsu'tsy is quite literally an alien who viewed all humans as demons. Unless you explain to him how you view Christmas, he's unsure of how important it is to you and doesn't want to come off as offensive.
In turn, I can imagine him pointing out things similar to his own culture, feeling like a part of him was always with you even before you met.
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gudvina · 2 months
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The things I do to keep you near.
Ship: Effie Trinket/Haymitch Abernathy
Fandom: Hunger Games
Chapter 10: The bliss of ignorance.
Can be read on AO3. <3
74th Hunger Games, part eight.
The music boomed in her ears, reverberating in her chest. Haymtch and her lined up beside Faustina and Chaff, while Ceasar enthusiastically welcomed them onto his stage. She smiled and waved, adding a little sway to her walk as they made their way to their designated places. The audience’s volume heightened. It was louder than it usually was for Twelve, and Effie was electrified. Finally, it was their moment. She was going to make sure nobody would forget it.
Twelve was the last District to be interviewed, so Effie got comfortable in one of the chairs and was followed straight away by Haymitch, who sat by her right. Ceasar also took his seat, inviting the first team. Corinthia and Cashmere. District One’s strategy, this year, was to entice the audience’s fantasies, it seemed. Not only where the tributes were concerned, evidently.
The two could only be described as sexy, with matching dresses that left little to the imagination, covering only the important parts with rhinestones. Without the cameras shoved in her face, she would have wrinkled her nose. They were pretty, but so overdone for them, and she found the whole thing distasteful. It wasn’t the occasion for those dresses.
The interview went fantastically though, as it usually was with One’s team. They worked well together, and Ceasar managed to hold up to their suggestive teasing; it was fresh, a little sexy, and the audience had tons of fun whenever Cashmere and Corinthia asked each other if the rhinestones on their dresses were falling off.
It was smart. Glimmer was gone, and Marvel wasn’t that interesting, they needed to keep the audience enthralled with the District rather than the specific tribute. It would still attract sponsors without having to make up for their tributes’ weaknesses. The Careers’ special power.
Enobaria and Giustiniana were next. They hadn’t gone all out with their outfits or their hairstyles, and they seemed quite relaxed around Ceasar. Friendly, even.
“I have no idea what they’re capable of. Giustiniana and I were surprised by the training score! Only the Gamemakers have seen their best, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there will be more for us to discover”, the mentor said, smiling at the cameras with her sharpened dentures.
Then came Router and Marcia, District Three’s team. Unlike Beetee and Wiress, in the rare times she did mentor, Router went all-in. He made his remaining tribute sound greater than he was. It was his strategy, and it never changed. Sometimes it worked.  More often, it failed miserably. Marcia wasn’t parsimonious with her words either and she couldn’t say she was convinced.
She felt Haymitch shift while Router was talking.
“This asshole hasn’t learned his lessons”.
“Language”, she hissed.
Router mentored sporadically, but Haymitch had noticed years ago a pattern to his years; somehow, their tributes either died instantly at the Cornucopia or, as he liked to put it, were targeted by Gamemakers. She wouldn’t know why, but Haymitch told her they probably found it amusing.
When she studied at the Academy, it hadn’t crossed her mind that the events in the arena might be deliberate. Calculated for interest’s sake, maybe, but weaponized against a certain set of tributes sounded unfair. Eventually, she saw it as well. Years after years, anytime it was Router’s turn, his tributes became the subjects of all kinds of calamities. It seemed casual, but it happened far too often for it to be a coincidence.
Effie looked toward the Gamemakers’ seats. Seneca sat there. His posture was only proper; straight back, hands interlocked right in front of him. His skin was pale, and his expression was only ever disrupted by the occasional upturn of his lips. He met her eyes once, but she turned away.
Finnick and Vesta showed up in mourning for their gone tributes, dressed soberly yet elegant. They looked tired but didn’t hesitate to remember their tributes, and she felt a shiver creep down her back. It made her think of the many times she had been in Vesta’s place. Finnick certainly held himself up better than Haymitch, but the faint dark circles in his eyes betrayed his signature act.
Vesta, instead, wasn’t very talkative. It was her second mandate, and while she excelled in her escorting duties, the deaths were still a little hard for her. She’d seen it before, plenty of times. It didn’t last long. The first years were the hardest to go through, but morphling, disinterest, or selective attention were the usual coping mechanisms. The deaths become background noise, she’d heard Gratiana say once.
 They never were, to her.
Before she knew it, Chaff and Faustina’s turn arrived. Effie sat straighter. The duo’s dynamic was always fun, and not the kind she and Haymitch had played, inadvertently, for a decade. No, it was purposeful, like watching a curated comedy show that everyone liked. Chaff joked, and his infectious laughter transferred to Faustina, who assisted the audience. When she laughed, everyone did.
Chaff didn’t take his tribute seriously, but he joked about them in a way that wasn’t derisive, and instead highlighted their strengths. Effie could tell where Gloria had shaped him.
Eleven’s three minutes were over all too soon, and in a moment Effie and Haymitch were getting up, invited to the podium by Ceasar. “And here goes the hottest Team of the edition! Welcome Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy for District Twelve!”, he boasted to the audience.
Haymitch, in an uncharacteristic bout of chivalry, helped her climb the steps and, given her vertiginous heels, she was glad about it. He only sat once she was, letting his hand stray away just a few inches from her own.
“Well, well, this year I find you two well, don’t I?”
“Why yes, Ceasar! We are very content with our tributes” she beamed, letting her voice take a syrupy tone she seldom used. It was meant for the times of need, a strategy her mother had taught her years prior. If you want it, this voice will provide it. Or someone for it.
“I can see that, Effie! Haymitch, these new tributes have been a pleasant surprise for you as well, weren’t they?”
“Can’t say I expected it, but they were hardly a surprise. They’ve shown time and time again how well they work together. Katniss is usually the arm, the more practical one. She might outshine Peeta on the combat side, but strategy-wise the boy’s got it too”.
“You can discern his attention to detail in his camouflage skills. He’s observant, sees things in ways I can confidently say no other does” she quipped in. She was thankful that Haymitch had started with Peeta. Maybe it was for her sake, but she would make the most of it.
“Maybe we have an artist in our hands”, Casar smiled, “but we all know who’s the artist’s flaming muse! What do you have to say about Katniss? We’re all curious”.
“She’s the Girl on Fire. But not just any fire, don’t mistake it for the kind of flame that warms your hearths on a cold winter night, or the flame that burns in our coal factories. She will burn and will explode as she pleases, all you gotta do is give her the right matches”. Haymitch’s answer went straight to the point, and Effie felt a surge of pride grow and settle in her breast.
“Oooh, I’m feeling hot in here. Can the flame be cooled down?”.
“You can hardly contain fire, can you? It can be extinguished, or even weaponized, but it’d be impossible to lower its temperatures”, she smiled, feeling the nation’s eyes all over her. It had been a few years since the last time she had gotten that much attention, so she decided to introduce their alliance, not wanting to waste time,
“It can also be nurtured. From the moment we saw Katniss and Rue together, our Teams saw the potential. Rue is just like quicksilver. She moves rapidly and doesn’t seem to be burnt by the flame. Haymitch, Chaff, Faustina and I are extremely curious to see where this adventure will take them”.
“An alliance! It’s been a while for Twelve, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, and it was about time” Haymitch smirked, but was less confident than he was letting on. He didn’t have his flask at hand, and had already dunked down his glass of water. She sensed his craving for something stronger. It was almost over, she thought.
Almost.
“It really was! Things seem to be looking up, but we still remember the Reapings. Did you get hurt, Haymitch?”, Ceasar asked, and this time Effie saw some regret in the conducer’s face. It didn’t come from him. Somebody else had suggested that question. She suspected it was Seneca, and decided that she wouldn’t let him steal their thunder.
“I went to check on him at the clinic, but I can’t say I found him doing too badly. He was his usual displeased self, and had scared half the nurses!”, she smiled, acting as coy as possible.
“Really? You almost asked if I’d left something in my will for you! And, for your information, the answer is still not”.
“Oh, he’s insufferable”, she pursed her lips and turned towards the spectators with feigned irritation. Usually, she was more genuine in her displeasure with Haymitch’s rudeness, but his answer and her reaction had generated the desired effect.
“You two are always a gem to be with, dears, but unfortunately our three minutes are up. I hope I will see you soon!”. Ceasar’s wishes seemed genuine, so she smiled and professed the same, taking charge of the parting.
They walked back to their spots and waited for Ceasar to announce the end of the Teams’ interviews. Right after them, Seneca and other Gamemakers would have theirs. She thought for a second that his eyes had lingered on her, but even if that was true she wouldn’t have been able to talk to him. Frankly, she didn’t even know if she wanted to. 
When the theme rang again, they were all ushered behind the stages. The prep team freed them from the microphones and invited them to sit at the tables for refreshments. Haymitch and Chaff were already eyeing a table where bottles of booze were laid out, and even though she usually wouldn’t have indulged them, she couldn’t see the harm after they had behaved so well. Faustina didn’t care much, but Effie, watching them take their seats, made a mental note to take notice of their alcohol intake. Just in case.
She felt a finger tap her shoulder, and when she turned she saw Corinthia. She held a cocktail in her left hand, swirling it occasionally with the other. She looked beautiful. Her tattoos glittered under the dim lights and revealed themselves in her collarbone and her arms, with intricate shapes accentuating her skin.
“That question, the one about your Victor”, she started without artifices, “It didn’t sound like something Ceasar would ask. It’s not the first time Abernathy behaves like he’s paid to do a shit show, anyways”.
Corinthia was a great actress, but in her personal life she wasn’t one to mince words. She was being rude on purpose, and for once Effie didn’t mind, reading in her words what she wasn’t saying.
“I thought so, but I wasn’t fazed”.
“No, you handled it quite well. I am just surprised. Of all the things they could’ve picked on it had to be the drunkard”. They. Did everyone assume it was the Gamemakers? She couldn’t believe anyone, apart from Seneca, could be behind it, and she didn’t like to think otherwise. The Gamemakers had no reason to target Haymitch.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but thanks for the compliment. You also did well, I like the matching outfit with Cashmere”, she answered, trying to sound unaffected.
“Thank you, thank you” Corinthia waved her off, as if she couldn’t be bothered to hear them, “I actually hate this dress, it itches like crazy. Damn stylists”.
She left, ending the conversation just as suddenly as it had started, and she turned towards Haymitch, finding his eyes already on her. She smiled sweetly, but was soon distracted by Blight and Cashmere, who approached her to compliment her look. Just like that, all thoughts of Gamemakers and treason talk fled her mind.
***
Haymitch gulped his drink, sinking deeper in his chair. His throat didn’t feel as parched as it had been during the interview, but it would take more than just a few glasses to reassess him fully. His attention wasn’t on the booze, though.
“Blight is not stupid, ‘Mitch, he’s not going to make a pass for your escort”. Chaff leaned over to refill his glass, in hopes of distracting him from Effie and her red dress. He just snorted in response. He had many problems at the moment, but Blight was far from them.
Cashmere touched the hem of Effie’s dress, and even though Haymitch couldn’t tell what the latter was saying, his head was a whirlwind of her voice. It went on and on about the fabric, the hem, and the stitching. Just like it did when he was in Twelve, and she wasn’t there. He settled with his memory or his imagination.
He had thought of fixing his phone, especially after their marriage. She had been the first to suggest it at the very start of their affair, even offered to see to it herself, but he had refused and now it was too late to take it back. He wasn’t proud of the way his mind stored her voice, the bell-like sound of her laughter, reproducing it almost effortlessly. It was never quite right, but it worked. At least, until he had the real thing in front of him.
“Gotta give it to her, though, she’s good”, his friend continued, and he took a sip of his drink, turning towards him with a smirk.
“She’s got her ways. Yours ain’t too bad either”. It was a fine concession, but not exactly accurate. He had stifled Effie’s talents for years, mostly because of her tendency to attach herself to whatever tribute, but even when she gave her fifty percent, it always outdid everyone else’s one hundred.
Or maybe, he was just biased.
“Yeah, but we both know who stole the scene tonight. Faustina is quite content with her share”, his friend trailed off, and then continued, “By the way they didn’t miss the occasion to remind everyone of your fall, huh?”
“Fuckin’ assholes, I bet One or Two are behind it. Effie spun it around, though, and maybe it’s better like that. Wouldn’t want to appear too set on”. Unlike Router, he wanted to say. But he didn’t.
“That’s the spirit. And look at Effs; still got her moment of attention, and damn if she’s enjoying it”.
He turned back to where Effie, Blight, and Cashmere stood. While they had been distracted, the three were joined by Finnick and his escort. His friend had only seen Effie’s armour, her big, bright grin, but he knew what was behind it.
Her hand softly covered Finnick’s wrist as she spoke, studying him closely. She was searching for signs of distress or pain, but the boy was just tired. Eventually, Finnick also held onto Effie’s wrist and led her towards a table. They sat closely, exchanging what he could only describe as hushed whispers, but couldn’t guess what the subject of the conversation was.
“Does the boy really want to switch escorts?”
“Yeah, he asked once or twice”.
“Once or twice?”
“Alright, more than once or twice. The answer’s still no”.
“I’m not even sure the Gamemakers would let that happen”, Chaff shrugged, amused by the idea.
His words made him think of Seneca Crane, and he looked up at the screens. The man was still sitting by the Gamemakers’ area, waiting for his interview. Had it been just the year prior, Haymitch would’ve probably mocked him for his beard and the ridiculous shapes it was styled in. After his threats, his appetite for humour had sobered.
He wanted to shrug them off as the jealous fit of a spoiled brat. He really did. But a Gamemaker’s warning came rarely without consequences. All that worry left him with unpleasant sleepless nights, and a stronger urge to drink himself away and let the events wash over him, like he had always done. To let the Capitol win. It would have been so easy.
It would have killed him just right.
But Effie was essential to him in a way no other human being had ever been, and he had married her. He could still see her like she had been that night; in her pink gown, chewing confusedly on the toasted bread. He hadn’t sworn to his vows out loud, but he knew they hung somewhere between now and that final kiss with which he had sealed their union.
If he wasn’t strong enough to fight for himself, he would do it for her. He could do it for her.
He stayed for another while, watching the Gamemakers’ interviews with Chaff, until Effie finally pulled him away. She claimed he had had enough to drink, but he knew it was probably an excuse, so he just grumpily got up. If he had to be honest, he was glad to leave.
In the elevator, she looked at him with tired, liquid eyes, and his heart tightened at the sight.
“I hope you’re not too upset, but I didn’t want to sleep alone”, she whispered. She still asked him, sometimes. As if he was in any position to deny her anything, let alone sharing a bed. He had to remind himself often that she didn’t know, and that it was better if it stayed like that.
“I was getting bored”, he shrugged, “what did Finnick want?”
“He talked to me about Annie, Mags called him and said she had another episode yesterday. She was doing a little better, and he’s quite devastated”.
“She’s gonna pull through. Is she still taking care of those fishes?”
“Yes, she is. Oh, I simply wish I could help, Haymitch”.
“She’s got Mags, she’s going to be fine. Remember where wanting to help led you two years ago?”, he smirked, referring to Johanna Mason. The girl’s first year as a mentor had been hard, and, despite her outward cruelty, Effie had tried to approach her, wanting to offer a hand. That was before the girl threatened to bite it. Quite literally.
“Johanna is a child, Haymitch. A terribly rude child who needs to learn her manners, but you can hardly blame her”.
“Yeah, yeah, call her a child to her face and then we’ll see”.
“I shan’t! If I can help it, I won’t ever talk to her again”.
He was satisfied. He was fine with her mothering instincts being limited to Four’s Victors and the children, especially if he considered Johanna’s hatred for the Capitol and its people. It baffled him that Effie could see that girl and use the word child so casually, but if they stayed apart it was one less problem for him to worry about.
“Good. My room or your room?”
“Whichever is the closest”, she covered her mouth and yawned. It was a casual slip of her mask, one that only happened when they were alone and she was tired, but he cherished it for its rarity. Instinctively, he held her close. And, until they reached their floor, he didn’t let go.
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zany-brainy · 11 months
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The ladies of Warrior Nun playing Dungeons & Dragons:
Beatrice: Plays as a Cleric because even when she's playing a game she enjoys she just has to stress herself out. She knows none of the others want to worry about healing so she does it herself. She does enjoy the versatility of having a wide range of spells to choose from each day and the proficiency in shields and better armor. She min-maxes the hell out of her stats because she has a hidden competitive streak and in their games at least her stats can be perfect. She has a different set of dice for each character she's played.
Ava: She would be the newest to the game and the sheer amount of possibilities stump her. Ultimately she ends up choosing to be a Rogue because she wants to climb up walls, pick locks, and steal shit like a champion. She takes Beatrice's suggestion and chooses Arcane Trickster as a subclass because Ava wants to try magic too but is intimidated by the Spell Tables the other classes deal with. Ava's first character dies and she hops right into playing that character's sibling on a revenge quest.
Lilith: No one dares bring up that her character is almost the quintessential edgelord. She was raised prim, privileged, and sheltered, she has no frame of reference for 'edge'. An amnesiac half-elf with a mysterious past, an Assassin Rogue with a chip on her shoulder and a no-nonsense attitude. Lilith loves it. She loves the Sneak Attack damage, being surly with NPCs, and knowing she can always blend into the shadows when she needs to. She's annoyed with Ava's choice to play a rogue too but then she realizes she doesn't have to be solely responsible for picking locks and checking for traps anymore. She won't admit it but she's the most superstitious about the luck of her dice.
Mary: She only plays martial characters. She wants to pick up the biggest, baddest sword/ax/hammer/whatever, and swing away. Tabletop time is where Mary likes to shut her brain off and just jump into playing her favorite brutes. Mary and Shannon had been playing tabletop games longest and Mary's played her fair share of spellcasters but now she wants to leave all that memorization and resource management behind her and swing away. Her latest character is a Paladin who is all about heavy armor, a two-handed greatsword, and perfectly placed Smites.
Camila: She actually takes longer to pick her class than Ava does, partially because she's even more well studied at the game than Beatrice but hasn't been playing long enough so she still has tons she wants to try. This time she chooses to multi-class as a Ranger/Fighter so she can be an Arcane Archer. She revels in being able to imagine up cool trick shots and unnecessary acrobatic turns and dodges and flips. She's a bit of a loot goblin and loves finding magical trinkets. Her dice luck is insane.
Yasmine: She always tries to pick whatever the team is lacking but everyone pushes back until she finally buckles and picks a Druid to play as. She won't admit that she likes collecting dice and miniatures almost as much as she enjoys playing the game. She put together everyone's minis and makes sure they're all perfectly painted. And as a Druid, she gets the chance to turn into different critters, monsters, and even elementals creatures. Still, she likes being of use so she rarely starts a session without having a few healing spells prepped.
Shannon: She is the long suffering Dungeon Master. Beatrice and Lilith both had their times as DM but Beatrice struggled somewhat with railroading and improvisation while Lilith's campaigns were often more combat and grind heavy. As one of the most experienced players at their table, Shannon finds a balance the others can't manage to. She's more than happy to step in as leader and revels in pushing the others out of their comfort zone when it comes to the roleplaying aspect of the game. She's kind of awful at impressions and accents but it only adds to the fun at the table. Sometimes she's a bit of a softy and goes easy on the players to make sure everyone has fun but she also knows when not to hold back in combat.
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thecrossoverwriter15 · 6 months
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Okay guys, I can’t just sit and wait for Dreamwork to make the Rise of the Guardians sequel. I just can’t. This movie has been keeping my spirits up since I lost my beautiful little pup, Chloe.
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She was so young and was suffering to a lung disease and died a few months back. I’m still mourning her loss, but am slowly getting back into my old grove. One movie in particular has been my anchor since then, Rise of the Guardians. This movie gave me hope (no pun intended) for the future. It’s almost like I have an emotional attachment to it. That is why I can’t let it sit and rot in the dumpster. I want to come back, fresh and clean and ready for the whole world to see. I thought, if Dreamworks won’t write a brand-new story with the holiday Avengers/Guardians of the Galaxy, then I will. So, I turned on my computer and wrote out a sequel idea and want to share it with you:
So, this sequel will be inspired by the early concept art that was done for the movie.
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The Guardians will look the same as they did from the film, but they will have more book accurate origins and settings. The cast will remain mostly the same, except Jack Frost and North. Look, I LOVE Chris Pine, but I didn’t feel that his adult voice fit the young 17-18 year old winter boy. Like TMNT Mutant Mayhem, he will have a teenage actor to voice him. Along with this, I casted David Harbor as North. Hugh Jackman, Isla Fisher and Jude Law will return as their old characters! Now, I was on the fence of adding a new Guardian in the mix. I enjoy reading Jack Frost/Original Characters just as much as you do, but I sometimes feel as though the new characters need depth or just need to be on their own for themselves to grow. That is why I decided to use a pre-existing character from the novels, Emily Jane AKA Mother Nature.
A bit of background, she is the daughter of Pitch Black, is Mother Nature and is known for being mysterious and unpredictable. As I was designing her for this sequel, I was stuck on making her a Goddess type character who serves as healer for the Guardians or an unpredictable, to-be villain like Jinx from Arcane. If you guys have any suggestions on Emily, please write me. I would love to hear your thoughts. Anyhow, Jamie Bennett and his group of friends (Cupcake, Monty, ETC.) will return, older and ready to help out their newfound friends! Since Jamie Bennett’s voice actor is now an adult, I will have a younger actor take his place. Now, it’s time for the nitty gritty…story and setting.
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When watching ROTG, we get a scene where Tooth explaining to Jack Frost how each Guardian’s past is linked to their center. In between the conversation, North says, “You should have seen Bunny!” and laughs. Bunny’s expression hardens as he corrects him, “Hey, I told you never to mention that!” Don’t tell me that his response had didn’t have you raising an eyebrow. There’s another scene in the rising climax when Bunny shouts at Jack after he becomes invisible due to the children not believing in the Easter Bunny anymore. After he yells, he composes himself, “Easter is new beginnings, new life. Easter’s about Hope and now it’s gone.” See in the books, Bunny came from a race of powerful rabbit warriors known as Pooka. They had incredible abilities and were one of Pitch Black’s greatest enemies. When Pitch became evil, he sadly dissolated the population, leaving Bunny as the very last Pooka. Well, ladies and gentlemen, you will see his origins in this sequel.
This sequel will be cut into two acts - Act 1 and 2. There will be flashbacks interwoven when a main plot line ends. The first act will be set in Burgess/The Pole, Tooth Palace and the Warden, the locations from the first film. The second act will be set in an underground nightmare city that sprits such as the Groundhog or the Leprechaun go to collect and trade trinkets they encounter on their journeys. This city is ruled by Pitch Black and Emily who is working with him to find and defeat the Guardians. The city’s design is inspired by Knowhere from GOTG, Silco’s Nation of Zauhn (I believe I’m spelling that right), Pitch’s underground lair and the Coraline house location! You will see MAGIC!!
Finally, Score and how it will be written!
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The score is complete! As you may know, I use specific music scores and songs that create a rhythm/plot line so when one goes to listen, they have an understanding of what will happen! Well, I have completed the score! If you wish to listen, here’s the link!
Now, how will I write this story???
This might have been the hardest decision! See, I was debating on a fanfiction or a script that will be posted on Wattpad when I get time to finish my other works! I was really struggling with the idea! I asked my dad who actually works in the film industry! Then, I though, “Hmm. If I wrote a fanfiction, it might just be treated as a silly fanfiction. I want it to feel genuine.” So, I decided on a script. Besides the fact that I write fun scripts for my class and have knowledge about films, I though I could structure things out! It would be easier!
Well, that’s it! If you have any ideas, let me know! Comment, ask, whatever!! The world is your oyster! Thanks for stopping by and reading! I’m just a fan of this movie and want to see it succeed! Remember:
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liaswills · 1 year
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I'm head of Ravenclaw House headcannons:
The moment you failed your class, I deliver the news with great many compliments. Not to lie or to divert from the bad news, but because you'll need to see the good side to divert from the emotional crisis you'll convert into once you hear how your grades were. It will stick with you once you return on the train and at least some of it will encourage you to not go into a downwards spiral. I'll make sure to owl you a list of things to do on how to relax after a hectic semester at Hogwarts. It'll be filled with 10 jokes and 5 ways to exactly relax, suited just to your personality.
I slip random noticeboard suggestions to have house raves or parties. The students plan the party but I'm definitely letting the grey lady chaperone to make sure nobody dies of intoxication, and if anyone gets sick, she hurries to get me.
My, yes, you can always get extra Fluffy towels with me. I know the school towels aren't what they used to be and I've got a supply closet filled with thousands of blankets, towels and fluffy objects that might satisfy your very neurotypical needs.
There's a basket of random trinkets inside my office which you can grab to twitch or fumble with in conversations with me. Sometimes holding something allows us to think better or study better, I hand them out in study hall as well.
There's monthly duelling. I promote it, actually. You need to study, you need to learn and Ravenclaw has the best duelling room Hogwarts has ever known.... ;)
Course I'll help you if you're afraid of the Dark. No, it is not a burden. Wake me tf up. I'll stand in the corridor all night if you think there's a boogeyman hidden in the closet. Trust me, as head of Ravenclaw, I'll bring you some nice warm drink and consider telling you some random tale about whatever fits best at the big hearth in the common room before sending you to bed with a half moon 🌙 shaped night lantern.
I tolerate zero bullying, however. You'll have to scrub the balcony, I'm afraid. That high up, we have loads of birds that shit on the edges. Though, on the bright side, it is beautiful at night to gaze at the stars. And manual labour makes teenagers regret their decisions at life. Plus, after 1hr you can leave. I'll pop in to check up on you but I'm always lenient to let you go off with a good word of wisdom.
Lockhart and I don't get on. The whole house is ofcourse, making notes of the whole situation. I visit him in the hospital though, turns out he's still as loony as he was before but less cocky. From then on, I make a basket with trinkets Ravenclaws can make creative artsy things and put them in the Lockhart donation bucket. Because the lesson in it is, even the loony bin (ironically) is worth of creativity and personal attention.
At Christmas, the whole common room is covered in a snowlike appearance. I don't want to exert in garlands so they're mostly made of neutral colours. That way, I don't cause the whole of Ravenclaw to have aneurysms and everyone keeps a happy atmosphere and a winter spirit.
You bet your ass I'm crashing your parties, flaunting some groovy moves and singing ABBA.
Every month there is some kind of event. Something I make up as we go. Karaoke night. A harvest party. Valentines day rave. Samhain Trivia night. It's all themed. Mostly diverted with activities for the first to third years and the fourth to seventh years get to enjoy some real good times with open doors hour. That time other houses can freely walk into the commonroom and join their party. :) the ravenclaw tower is too far up anyway, nobody hears anything.
I get in trouble with Dumbledore so often you'd think I was a student. He tolerates me as I am the only pro-LGBTQ professor who knows he's 🍓fruity🍓 along with Prof Mcgonagall. We greatly discuss the most handsome wizards in Witch Weekly each weekend.
I look a lot like the grey lady. We also walk a lot together in deep conversation, which is when some students listen in or enjoy the topic of conversation in secret.
I give Muggle Born parents a full on manual on how to respond to certain topics regarding Trolls, the grading system, Spells, Wand regulations, a short guideline on wizarding laws to abide by and all the missing stuff they haven't received from the deputy or Headmaster.
Homework help for all examination stress students & counselling of course. No need to feel ashamed if you want to have a witch weekly about how to flirt with that random ass slytherin student you've been passing eyes at. I'll give you a thumbs up.
There's always 1 big end of the year party.
The Quidditch Team has the best hours to practice, especially cause I get up so early to set the dates for them.
We have a room in the Ravenclaw Tower just for naps & meditation or destressing. It's a quiet area.
On nights before exams I give everyone enough food during their late night studying. Even cupcakes and freshly baked cookies or warm soup.
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isolated-bug · 2 years
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How do you think silco would deal or react with grief if jinx had died on the bridge?
OO this is a HARD one!!! Well, first off. I think pure rage. This would further fuel his anger towards Piltover as he would blame them and their tech and their superiority complex as the ultimate cause of Jinx's death. He arrived after Vi, Cait, and Echo had gone so he would not know any of them were involved.
But in addition to that i think it would harden him. He had finally opened his heart up just the tiniest bit to care about someone and something other than his cause. I think that if the series had continued with Jinx dying and Silco remaining, we would have seen a Silco that was more cold and cruel than his initial introduction. I imagine he would have been more demanding of his staff and more punishing to their failures. Outbursts of rage in his private chambers after meetings that didnt go his way etc. I imagine he would have thrown objects in these outbursts. I think it would be similar to the rage fit he had when he failed to capture Vi after all of his posturing and feeling so confident. When he picked up his lackeys and threw them back down to the ground. Kicking the shimmer addicts, etc. I think that level of reaction would have become the new norm when someone frustrated him. I imagine a lot of escalated reactions in discussions ending with a disheveled appearance as he shouts his final say-so while looking around the room at the terrified faces. and then, breathing heavily, he would try to straighten out his hair and dismiss whatever guests were there with a lot of snark. The dismissal being less of a courtesy or suggestion and more of a command. I imagine Sevika getting worried he has lost it and maybe even eventually leaving his ranks. I also imagine he would have kept the trinkets from Jinx and they would become prized possessions. Maybe something that every now and then he finds himself staring at for too long. Perhaps the only things that give him any sense of peace or grounding. Thinking, like a proud dad, how Jinx could have done x or y thing better and gotten a solution for him. I dont see him putting up any statues etc of her. I think he didnt care what the world thought of her so some grand structure like that wouldnt be necessary. But i also imagine you would be fucked if you happened to say anything negative about her in his presence. Ultimately i dont see him going into any substance abuse. His drive always seems to be fueled by his negative emotions. So if anything, he would grow his business even more. Silco is scary that way. He doesnt, generally, self-sabotage with rage like most do. Instead he uses it as a tool to become more powerful and design goals. But i definitely see him as a "burn the city to the ground" type of reaction. I think Piltover would have seen a very violent war from a very brazen nothing-left-to-loose Silco. It would be awe inspiring and horrific. Piltover would know the fury of Zaun. And finally i see him becoming less human. Yes he certainly is already on the more despicable end of the spectrum, certainly. But i see him loosing all sense of humanity and compassion. I see him no longer necessarily leaning so heavily on gentle/subtle manipulations and instead leaning harder on the intimidation end of the spectrum. He certainly uses that already, but i see that becoming the more dominant trait. I would love to hear if you agree or disagree or have completely different ideas or thoughts etc!
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soir-rouges-esprit · 8 months
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xx11.d: The River, He walks over to the large Dead Oak and rests his hand over some scribbles in the bark ... I follow him standing just behind him looking over his shoulder. "*sigh* We … this … cannot continue … this struggle … it's the whole reason he died in the first place. Never forever one … dead … and everyone of us, each and every shade believes us to be him, the true last living idol. But … it's all … a lie." He removed his hand revealing the name "Red" … I walk up to the tree and stare in disbelief … What? Wait … what? What is this Hope? "The City … existed before … us … before you. Before Wrath. But … in the past … it was filled with people of different faces, different shades and colors of the full spectrum … people … people who cared for us and our well being … not just … us" This can't be true … you … you're a lying grifter! A bitch! And I won't be swindled by your fucking illusion! "Stop … just … stop. If you or anyone was the … Original … why would any other shade be able to effect you? To control you? Because you and they and I … aren't him … at least not any longer. It's time to accept that, and I know … you as I did at one point … will not accept that, because I … He would never die. But he did … and the only thing left … is his Shattered Memory." … … … How … how am I supposed to accept this? I go and sit on a large root exposed from the Dead Oak. I stare deadly straight into the ground. "You won't be able to immediately … It's hard … but once you understand that … the quicker you can become the new, Red." I've this whole time been trying to piece myself back together … back to who I was … but now you're telling me I'm not that person … and that the person I thought I was … is dead. What point is there … who … am I? "You are who you are … don't live in any shadow of another … something he would have said. It's not impossible I think … to return to the person you want to be … but not revive him from the dead. Because as he'd say … " Life is for the living … " … correct … He's gone … sometimes, the best thing to do is to forget who you were … because in truth … it just wasn't working … he knew that … and let himself die … in a gamble that when he shattered … that one of those shards would be able to piece it all back together … and be … a new Red … a better … Red" This is all so fucked "Yeah … unfortunately" I stand and look directly into his eyes and say. So what then? What's the next action needed to piece us back together Hope? "I knew you were the one … we lost long ago … our ability to allow others into The City. Allowing them to populate our mind and fill the space and silence … fill the jobs we needed … allow us to stop this depression and finally start to grow, once again." Ok, so what are you suggesting? "Come on, follow me" We walk out into the large barren waste rock, among the many bridge ashes … He goes into a large ash pile and he collapses to his knees “Now Red … We sift and sift and sift … Until … we find it” Find what? “Start … Sifting! Just fucking run your hands everywhere until you feel something … and when you do … pull it from the depths of the dead … just as you were” he said with a serious face and a slight angry tinge. He went straight back to hunching over on his knees and sifting. Ok … ok Hope … I will sift … I wish you’d tell me what I was at least looking for but fine. I go to a separate pile of ash … and what I find sifting through it all was memories … trinkets … an amulet of silver casing and a core of amethyst. An earring in the shape of a crescent moon with small cats on the sides, and finally a golden sewing needle. To another ash pile. I find a coin bag filled to the brim. A small Walkman titled D.A. with yellow tape, and a white Bishop chess piece. Once again another ash pile and another and another and … this goes on for sometime. I yell over at Hope. HEYYYY When are we done here? I mean what the fuck are we doing here Hope? There is … NOTHING. Whatever the fuck is here ain’t worth the time … [To Be Continued]
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Making Money in Agriculture
You may earn money on your farm in a number of ways, regardless of whether your goal is to use it as a full-time company or just a method to supplement your income. Selling crops is the first and most straightforward method. You may grow them on your land and pick from a variety of various sorts. A suggestion is to select high-yielding cash crops. To boost their output and your profit, fertilize them.
One of the most profitable crops to farm, pumpkins bring in millions of Star Coins every day. In Disney Dreamlight Valley, as long as you concentrate on character missions, this is a simple method to earn money.
Farmer pumpkins are purchased by pumpkin patches, who then sell them to agritourists who stop by their booths. Additionally, they sell in bulk to grocery chains and urban areas. Each year, US farmers grow 1.4 billion pounds, or 770 thousand tons, of pumpkins.
However, early in the season, shoppers seek ornamental pumpkins like flat, stackable Cinderella or warty Marina di Chioggia. The demand for conventional jack-o-lanterns is strongest closer to Halloween.
To create a successful crop, farmers must spend money on hybrid seeds that increase yields by 30%–50%. These seeds are 3–8 times more expensive than the typical fare, but they are well worth the extra expense due to their juicy texture and disease resistance.
Herbs might be an excellent source of side income. To start a herb company, you don't need a lot of room or knowledge, and the earnings can be significant. Herbs may be used in a variety of ways to generate income, but you need first find out which ones are popular where you live. This will assist you in deciding which to expand and which goods to sell.
Herbs can be sold in a variety of places, such as roadside stalls and farmers' markets. To improve your income, you can also produce value-added goods like tinctures, soaps, and herbal teas.
In the world of essential oils, herbs are very often used. To provide vital oil firms, get in touch with them; you may anticipate frequent, dependable sales. Jerky is one of the most well-liked methods for selling meat for money. Beef, hog, and venison are just a few examples of lean meats that may be used to make it.
A protein-rich food with a long shelf life is beef jerky. It may be kept for a few months in an airtight container. Although there are several ways to make jerky from your meat, the dehydrator or oven is probably the most effective way to do it properly. Your jerky will dry out evenly and to your preferences at the proper temperature without becoming overcooked.
In Red Dead Redemption 2, selling pelts is a wonderful method to earn money. They may be used to make swords, moccasins, and hunting coats. But it's crucial to know where to sell them and how to receive maximum payment for your pelts.
It's crucial to slaughter animals in perfect condition if you want to maximize your pelt revenues. The important organ of an animal, such as the heart or brain, must be struck critically or fatally.
Using a bow and Small Game Arrows while maxing out your Dead Eye skill is the most effective method to do this. In order to raise the quality levels of your pelts, you may also hunt the Legendary Buck in Mount Shan's western region, which can be turned into a Buck Antler Trinket.
For your garden, manure is a fantastic source of nutrients that you may use in place of synthetic fertilizers. It also has organic matter, which helps enhance the soil's water-retention capabilities and quality.
It's a terrific method to enhance the soil on your farm and boost revenues by using manure to fertilize your crops. However, it's crucial to apply manure to your crop in the proper quantity and at the right rate.
Checking the soil is the best approach to figuring out how much manure you need for your crops. You should apply more manure if the soil is deficient in nutrients and poor than if it is rather fruitful and well-nourished. Fortunately, a lot of major companies, such as dairies, feedlots, and poultry plants, create a huge amount of manure that is simple to buy and sell. This is particularly true now that the price of industrial fertilizer has soared.
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[WP] Spirits of the dead are placed into objects in mystical forges. Due to a mix-up, a soldier is placed in a pen and a poet in a sword.
The streets of the town where busy, bustling and rumbling with the crowd of happy shoppers as they went from stall to shop, inspecting all the everything from the wonderfully bizarre trinkets sold by a long tongued lamina wearing yellow robes to the local butcher dwarf with a scruffy beard and a full belly displaying rats, wolves, giant lizards and much more.
Only one place was excluded from those festivities, an old and run down looking store, hidden in the shade, by the name of "Arizel's Antique Shop". As the name would suggest it was full of clutter and items ranging from ominous dark oak doors to kitchen utensils made out of slimes.
The shopkeeper, Arizel, was an old human lady who was sleeping peacefully behind her desk in a rocking chair. Yet despite what one might expect from a store devoid of clientele it was far from quiet.
"Pez you fucking idiot! Why would you think that could possible work?!"
"First of all, my full name is Pessimistus and I know that you know that that is my name, Alexander. Second of all how was I supposed to know that I was meant to slay the treeant!"
"For the umpteenth time my name is just AL! How hard could that possible be to remember! Unlike your name it's a mere 2 letters! Also, what in Tiryus' name did you think you were meant to do with the treeant?!"
"Why I was intending on carving into it my latest work of course! A poem titled 'Treeant's are scary, I rather fight a little fairy'!"
The noise was coming from two people... well if you could call them that. Certainly at one point in time, long, long ago they have been people. Pessimistus was a famous poet, adored by women and favoured by muses. Whilst, Al was a great general that led his lord's armies towards countless victories. Both were great mortals, favoured by deities. Which was why when they died the Gods that cherished them came to a master forger Dwarf that carved their souls into powerful magical items.
There just one teeny-weeny little problem. The orders came at the same time and so a soldier was placed in a pen and a poet in a sword. Over the years, the two artefacts have swapped many hands, yet without fail have found themselves back on these dusty shells looking across at each other chatting or rather bickering for the most part.
"Is writing silly words all you're good for!" the pen was almost shaking from anger as it roared. "A brittle twig would be more suitable in battle than a magical sword as pathetic as you are!"
"Oh please, you taunt me so yet you are nothing but an earth worm taunting a wingless dragon for not being able to fly!" The sword rebuked with a snarky remark and kept going. "Besides, even if I may admit my lack of talent in the art of war at least I accomplish something. You, my old friend, have yet to succeed in writing out a full paragraph before stabbing through the page!"
The room was filled with chaotic arguing as one side was trying desperately to out scream the other not even hearing the other side over the sound of their own voice.
"OH FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS WOULD THE TWO OF YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU DON'T HAVE IT NEARLY AS BAD AS I!" A third voice interrupts the conversation from across the room, laying on the bottom-most shelf, a shiny cleaver knife with a cow head depicted on the handle.
""Well who are you then?"" Al and Pessimistus asked in unison.
"I WAS A FUCKING VEGAN MINOTAUR!"
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ecoamerica · 20 days
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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arpov-blog-blog · 2 years
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Herschel Walker uses a fake badge to dig himself a deep hole
...."The Republican’s campaign said he was an “honorary deputy,” though a former DeKalb County district attorney said the title was meaningless, even if true.
Being an “honorary deputy,” a local prosecutor said, is like having “a junior ranger badge.”
(All of this, incidentally, is separate from Walker also lying about having been “an agent” with the FBI.)
But while common sense suggests the Senate hopeful should avoid this embarrassing topic, he appears convinced that he really does have a background in law enforcement, reality notwithstanding. Indeed, Walker sat down yesterday with NBC News’ Kristen Welker, and once again flashed the badge that’s sometimes given to entertainers and other celebrities."
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lunarlover12 · 7 years
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As most things I post lately, this is because of Missy. We were having a spontaneous mini angst war when I just spilled this out onto her and then was told to post it.
I'm only at episode 81, but apparently I got close to something canon so no one put any spoilers in the replies/tags please!
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There's a soft knock on the door and Vax quickly wipes at his tears. It's been a hard few days with Vex’ahlia gone. The mirror in the room has been covered up for the time being, and he can't remember the last time he was actually outside.
Another knock drives him back out of his thoughts and he gives a very weak ‘come in’. He was expecting it to be Keyleth again, checking in on him. But instead the door opened just a little bit to show a head of white hair and puffy red eyes.
“Gods, Percival. You look awful.” Is all Vax can think of to say at the moment. There's a moment of silence as he can see the human physically trying to speak but no words coming out. And then it's all a rush.
“Can I? Can I ask something of you?” Percy asks, edging his way into the room and closing the door behind him. Vax immediately straightens up and narrows his eyes warily.
By all means, this man was his brother. Percy had married his sister, but even before then there was a sense of brotherly bond between the two of them. But they had rarely had these types of conversations; hushed and behind closed doors. These could only mean bad things.
“Suuure,” Vax answered as he motioned to the edge of the bed next to him. Percy took a deep breath in before sitting down. “What's going on?”
“Can- gods this is going to sound ridiculous- can you just stay there? And listen as I talk?” The half-elf slowly nodded, waiting in silence as the other seemed to steel himself for what was about to happen. “I would just like to say goodbye. And…. And if I don't look close enough, I can pretend it's her. I can say goodbye to her-” Percy's voice broke off as tears started streaming down his cheeks. Vax merely nodded his understanding and closed his eyes for a moment, willing back his own tears that were starting to form.
“You're such an idiot. To go down like that. You were supposed to soar up on your broom, high in the sky where I could not touch you. Floating alongside your brother while the rest of us looked up at you two in awe. But you were fools and came down to join us. Vax grabbed Keyleth and took off towards the sky again together. But when you tried to lift me, I only held you down.
I couldn't go where you had. I couldn't get more than a few feet off the ground.” A sharp and shaky inhale.
“I was supposed to go before you.” Vax opened his eyes to see Percy with his head in his hands and his glasses were being held tightly. “I was supposed to die long before you. But you fell from the heavens and came crashing down. And you left me there on the ground with you at my feet.
“I love you, Vex. And I wish I could have caught you. I wish I could've said the right things to bring you back.” Vax gingerly put his hand out onto the shaking shoulder and pulled his brother close into a tight hug.
“Please come back to me. Don't leave me here alone again. I need you.” The voice was small and weak and pleading. And it absolutely broke Vax’s heart to hear it.
Percival, who was always so collected and who had never shed a tear in front of anyone else, now sounded utterly defeated as he begged to either Vex or the Raven Queen, neither of them no longer listening.
The wings spread from Vax's back and wrapped around the two as Vax closed his eyes.
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tamayosclinic · 2 years
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Could I have a kuojuro x salem witch reader
Love Potion | Kyojuro x Witch!Reader
Warning(s): None
Author's Note(s): This was such a fun request to write. I went with a oneshot for this one. Headcanons are fun but I started off writing oneshots so I like to think of them as my speciality. I'm also going to start adding word count on oneshots for anyone who may prefer shorter reads. Enjoy this oneshot.
Word count: 1,559
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Kyojuro had an uneasy feeling as he walked into the village. Not because of a looming threat per se. Rather the lack of a threat. It was the dead of night. He expected to sense demon activity, especially since that was his reason for being called out to this town plagued by disappearances. A couple of hours patrolling the village brought no results either.
Guess it’s time to move on. Kyojuro thought but a strobe of green flashing in the surrounding forest caught his attention. A blood demon art perhaps. Kyojuro ran into the forest and managed to pinpoint the strobe to a humble cottage by the river.
As he neared the cottage, he picked up a choir of angered complaints. There was something odd about the complaints, however. Their voices did not sound human. The most notable ones Kyojuro picked up sounded animalistic.
“Please quiet down and listen. I’ll create Counterspells to fix your problems but in exchange, you must not tell the townsfolk. My business is on the line here.” A woman’s voice responded to the complaints.
Counterspells? A witch! Kyojuro beat down the front door, startling the woman and the numerous animals, most consisting of frogs, cats, crows, and other witchy animals. Quickly putting two and two together he glared at the woman. His smile never faltered though, giving him a sadistic look that made the woman tremble. “So, you’re the cause of the disappearances.”
“Yes!” All the animals answered simultaneously.
The woman on the other hand took a moment examining Kyojuro’s uniform before responding. “You’re a demon slayer, right? Please let me explain. This isn’t what you may think. Yes, the disappearances are because of me but I meant no harm. My mother recently retired, and I took over her shop, but I have not mastered all the spells, and some happen to be very popular which led to some… negative side effects.” She pointed to the animals as well as various trinkets around the cottage that had humanistic features.
Kyojuro, who initially stormed in guns blazing, had calmed significantly with the woman’s explanation. The fact that she was not a demon was even more convincing. “So then turn everyone back into a human and I’ll take my leave.”
“I was going to do that once everyone agreed to keep this mishap a secret.” The woman leered at a particular frog with a pixie bob cut and an angered expression (as best a frog can make that is). A literal frog Karen.
“Of course, I’m going to tell everyone about the horrible service! You gave me your word it would work, now look at me!” The Karen croaked.
“You’re the one who stormed out before I could inform you that I hadn’t mastered that love potion you wanted. I’m actually glad it didn’t work otherwise your poor crush would be stuck with you.” The witch sneered, causing the Karen to gasp though it came out as a ribbit.
“Okay I understand your point but it’s not fair to leave the rest of these people in their current forms. Please make a counterspell for them and we’ll settle things with this woman later.” Kyojuro suggested and the woman agreed.
“I’m never coming back here!” The Karen claimed as she walked out.
“Good riddance then. And don’t forget if you tell anyone you’ll turn back into a frog. Ribbit! Ribbit!” The woman mocked and Kyojuro couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly.
“You should create an anti-Karen potion.” The woman decided to play along with the joke.
“I’ll consider that. It will sell out for sure!” The two laughed again but as the laughter died down, an awkward silence took over. The woman cleared her throat. “So… I turned the villagers back to normal. I assume your business is done here. I know you demon slayers have tons of missions to complete in one night. I also need to get back to brewing.”
“Right! I should get going.” Kyojuro repeated to convince himself not to stay while there were actual demons out there killing innocent people. He admitted inwardly that he found the woman intriguing, more so by how they were able to relate to each other rather than her simply being a witch. They said their goodbyes and Kyojuro took his leave, recalling that his break which Kagaya convinced him to take was coming up. His smile spread from ear to ear as he made up his mind about visiting the woman again.
Kyojuro spared one last look at the house. His attention drew to the sign hanging over the cottage. The first word had obviously been painted and replaced with the name “(Y/N)” recently.
“(Y/n),” Kyojuro said to himself. His mind engraved that name into his thoughts and echoed all the while Kyojuro continued with his remaining missions.
There are a lot of things Kyojuro could list off the top of his mind that fuel his enthusiasm but paying a visit to (Y/n) put them all to shame. His heart raced with impatience until the cottage came into view from the sea of trees. The unmistakable cawing of crows coming from within the cottage drew him to walk faster. Had another one of (Y/n)’s spells failed on some unfortunate human?
Unlike the previous time, Kyojuro knocked and entered when (Y/n) gave him permission. “Oh, hello again. Please wait a moment and I’ll be with you shortly.” (Y/n) greeted from where she stood in front of a cauldron stirring a mixture though her voice was washed out by the deafening cawing of crows scattered throughout the room.
Kyojuro hummed and asked her to repeat herself only for a crow he recognized as Kagaya’s crow to repeat (Y/n)’s greeting. Kyojuro held up a thumbs-up to (Y/n) and observed as she finished the mixture and served some to each of the crows.
“Say hello.” (Y/n) instructed, receiving a chorus of loud and clear hellos from the crows. Pleased with her work, she released the crows who followed Kagaya’s crow presumably to headquarters to be trained.
“So that’s where we get the talking crows.” Kyojuro inquired.
“Yes. My ancestors had supplied the demon slayers with crows for generations. Enough about that,” (Y/n) dismissed the topic, “how can I help you today? Would you like to have a look at the potions shelf? I’m sure you’ll find something that suits your needs.”
Kyojuro thought for a moment then boldly replied in a joking manner. “I would like a potion that allows us to spend more time with each other.” He smiled jovially when he saw (Y/n) blush.
“Well, a potion isn’t needed for that sort of thing. I got a lot of brewing to do though. I still need to master that love potion.”
“I can help! Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it!” Kyojuro insisted.
“… now that you mention it, I do need some roses and a three-leafed clover. They are available at the flower shop.” Kyojuro was out the door right as she said that last bit. She giggled at his enthusiasm and blushed again. He’s so adorable.
Hours of brewing and many failed attempts later, (Y/n) had created a sample that looked perfect on the outside. The potion she held in a beaker was a light pink with a glittery sparkle and shiny heart-shaped bubbles fizzing out. She glanced between the beaker and the page on the spellbook of the potion several times to make sure they matched before nodding in approval. “Looks perfect appearance-wise.”
“So, the next step would be to try it out!” Kyojuro said, reaching for the beaker much to (Y/n)’s surprise and confusion. They both blushed as Kyojuro placed his hand over (Y/n)’s, keeping a hold of the beaker. “How does it work?”
“You must drink it and kiss whomever you love within 24 hours for it to take effect.” (Y/n) informed. “Do you have someone you want to try it on?” Kyojuro looked down at the floor meekly and still blushing which made (Y/n)’s heart soar. So cute!
“Yeah. On you.” He admitted. It was the first time (Y/n) had heard his voice so low but no time to dwell on that. Her faint blush turned crimson. She would have dropped the beaker if not for Kyojuro holding onto it while she clutched her chest and calm her racing heartbeat.
Once (Y/n) calmed herself, she regretfully informed, “Witches are immune to spells,” Kyojuro’s smile face dropped but hope lingered as she continued, “but that does not mean they can’t fall in love naturally and I’ll admit I have taken a liking to you. Correction! I have fallen for you. Why don’t we take this nice and steady without the use of a potion?”
Kyojuro’s smile sprang back, eliciting a giggle from (Y/n) at his adorableness. He took time to place the beaker on the counter before spreading his arms wide open for a hug which (Y/n) happily obliged. “It sounds good to me!”
They stood there in the center of that humble cottage, hugging silently before pulling away. “Now how about you help me make that Anti-Karen potion?” (Y/n) asked seriously though a hint of playfulness was shown in her smile.
“Of course! We’ll save the world from Karens and demons!” Kyojuro answered with a spring, enthusiastic about the start of a new beginning with (Y/n).
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Dark Souls II Scholar of The First Sin’s Final Question: What About The Past?
Dark Souls II’s quest is a long an arduous path spanning multiple fallen kingdoms built upon fallen kingdoms. Each has had its own glory and downfall. Each plagued by its own sins. Each ruled by a person, or people, with their own faults.
Drangleic itself once belonged to another people, much like the United States. These people were killed, or perhaps driven underground (if you believe they are the dwarf-like gyrm people). Its king, Vendrick, was beloved by his people, and brought prosperity to the land, but also went overseas to conquer the land of the giants, which would follow him home to lay waste to the kingdom. You find undead soldiers still beating the corpses of giants, in what to me feels like a symbol for PTSD. The war never ended in their minds.
There is a land called Aldin where a ruler tried to contain a plague that drives people mad. The prisoners instanity makes them incredibly dangerous, going as far as blowing themselves up. The most dangerous prisoners were kept in matryoshka-style cages, just big enough for a single person. The ruler grew paranoid as the weight of their sins increased, and began sentencing anyone that might oppose them to the prison as well. Ultimately, they went mad with the very condition they sought to contain, and locked themselves away. The rest of the prisoners were simply left in their cells.
There was a queen who was rejected by the man she loved. In pursuit of beauty, she put her people to work, constructing a factory to produce chemicals that she felt improved her appearance. The toxic chemicals swept across the land, spoiling its crops, and transforming the people into monsters. The queen remained alone in her tower, tearing the faces off her personal guards so as to remain unseen.
There was a king who discovered a new way of forging iron. Proud of this technology, he had his castle cast in iron, but the castle’s weight caused it to sink slowly into the earth, flooded by magma. The king and his loyal knights, patriotic to the end, went down with their castle.
There was a lord whose people struck gold. While his citizens fought over the earth’s bounty, the lord sequestered himself in his private study, reading books, and caring for his exotic pet, a giant spider. The spider gave birth to millions of giant spiders, which overtook the land, and its people. Bereft of hope and leadership, the people fell into the hands of a cult, as their friends and neighbors died off one by one. Many still sought riches, despite everything. The lord just watched in amusement.
There was a king who worshipped a dragon. His people worked tirelessly to create a magnificent ziggurat to house the sleeping dragon. Another king saw the dragon’s blood as a path to enlightenment. The two nations fought, fueled by their religious fervor, but in the end, the dragon’s poisonous breath killed them all.
There was a good king, who inherited a great evil. Beneath his home burned the fires of an ancient evil. He and his bravest knights gave all they could to bury the sins of the past. The found themselves locked in an eternal struggle, unable to fully pacify it, and unable to look away. The knights souls fight on to this day. The queen, alone in her castle, prays their souls may one day find peace.
In the gutter, the rats feast on corpses and things discarded by humanity. Even they have their king. They defend what little they can from man, deep in the places nobody cares to look.
You travel the world as a nobody, seeking to end the curse afflicting yourself, and the people of Drangleic. Some people you meet on your travels suggest that life itself is the curse, and thag death is the only cure. Some cling to the religious stories of old, unsure of their original meaning or authenticity. Still others simply live life as normally as they can, selling trinkets and fighting monsters. Others spread malice and evil across the land, presenting no reason in particular.
Your quest leads you to seek the true throne of Drangleic, and become a “true monarch”. You put the souls of old kings and lords to rest, bearing witness to their follies. Eventually, everyone more powerful than you is dead. It’s just you, and the trone awaiting you, across a bridge made from the bodies of the last king’s slaves.
What will you do? Take the trone, or abandon it?
Will you accept the burden of history, or bury that history? Will you inherit a legacy of darkness, steering its future toward the light, or leave humanity to its own devices, uncontrolled, for better or worse?
I love this choice, because unlike Dark Souls’ choice of “set yourself on fire for the greater good” or “become very evil”, Dark Souls II leaves it up to the player to imagine their character’s true goal. By making the choice about the means, rather than the end, Dark Souls II presents a really nuanced moral question about how we chose to relate to our own troubled history, with regards to our families (there is a lot of family stuff in this game too, two demons born from the same great darkness, both very troubled, one good and one evil, there’s also an estranged father/daughter in your hub town), our culture, and our society as well. In that sense, it’s a bit of a coming of age story. After all, when we reach adulthood, everyone has to decide what traditional wisdom to follow, and what to ignore. Which memories to treasure, and which to move on from. What to do with one’s life, knowing there’s only so much any one person change, but that people really do change the world every day?
I particularly love the Emerald Herald’s monologue if you take the throne, stating that there’s no reason you have to do things the way they’ve been done before, just because you’ve inherited the throne. You can do new things using the traditional channels!
You don’t need a revolution to make a difference!
You can be successful in the traditional sense, but what you do with that success is up to you!
Most importantly, you don’t need to embrace any political, religious, or cultural standard to attain that success. You can reject patriotism, bigotry, greed, superficiality, any religious or non-religious creed, and even your own upbringing, and still be a kind, strong, successful person.
Or you can reject the throne entirely, and forge your own path, as a lucky few manage to.
Thank you for reading.
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