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#if you can't tell who the second page is supposed to be then my point stands
hippano · 2 years
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why are some faces easy to draw and some are just aaaaaaaaa
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uzurimisery · 4 months
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chapter 4: the bluff. / coriolanus snow / nsfw
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Rating: Explicit
WC: 6746
Warnings: MDNI, rough sex, he's still insane and possessive, PIV, unprotected sex (this guy is never wearing a condom ever), angry sex, he's not a good guy but he's hot, not beta read
AO3 version | Series master
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You slammed the dressing room door shut. “What the hell was that , Coriolanus?” pacing the length of the room, anger seeping out of you. “Did you forget what we were supposed to do? We were supposed to play it off, say we were too young. That was not playing it off! That was proposing!”
In your rage, you stumbled in your heels. He watched you curse under your breath, undoing the strap on them and throwing them across the room. Coriolanus didn’t move, cemented in his spot just past the door.
“Listen to me Y/N,” his tone was stern, like a parent scolding a child. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Of course you did!” you interrupted your voice tinged with sarcasm. “You always do whatever you want, don’t you? Here, the gala, the dinner. Always regardless of the consequences!”
Your words were sharp, digging in the fact that whatever was going on between you two there was meant to be a unified front, a single storyline. You were meant to be partners in the power play, both of you using each other to further your positions. All the work that went into constructing the next five years of the act was undone in an instant.
“I thought we were on the same page, Coriolanus. There was a plan for what we were going to do, but you just fucked it up!” He was always hypercritical of himself, internal monologue pointing out his every mistake, but you doing the same set him off.
“Can you shut up for five seconds! Or are you so self-obsessed that you can't let anyone else get a word in.”
“How dare you try and talk to me about being self-obsessed you narcissistic, unthoughtful-”
“There you go! Proving my point. You can’t even get off your high horse for a minute so I can explain why I did that.”
“You want to explain? Fine then, explain.” you spat.
Coriolanus’ jaw clenched. You were so hot and cold with him. He could never gauge what you really wanted in all of this, and you would never just tell him either.
“I saw an opportunity.”
“For what?”
“To play the part, to make the story so much better. Picture it, Coriolanus Snow, a man who has always been so organised and timely there are articles on how to put your life together like him, rushing into something. He’s so in love with his mentor’s daughter that he proposes to her on stage in front of all of Panem, and he doesn’t even have a ring on him because at that moment he realises that he can’t live without her.”
Your eyebrows were drawn, scanning over his face like you were looking for a fault in what he said, as you dissected it. There was nothing wrong with it though. The show was exactly how he described it. It painted him as a kind and caring man, beyond his known abilities at game making.
“You should have told me ahead of time.”
“I didn’t have a chance. I thought of it while getting ready.” he was lying, and you could tell. Seeing through lies was your speciality. He hadn’t thought about it while getting ready.
You called him on his bluff. “Bullshit. You didn’t have any plan, that was all impulse.” you were digging your finger into his chest to make your point. “You could have ruined everything we’ve been working on, made the past year pointless. What if I hadn’t followed along? What if I lost my composure for your little outburst? It’s not just your future on the line here Coriolanus. I’m leaving.”
Your shoulder bumped into his as you moved to walk out of the room, but his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you back and lifting you off the ground.
“Y/N,” he started.
“Let me go!”
“You don’t get to walk away from me. You need to listen to me.”
“I’m done listening to you, put me down!”
“Well, I’m not done talking!” Coriolanus pushed your back against the wall, pinning you in place.
Why couldn’t you just listen to him like you normally did? Why were you so upset with him? What he did was off-script but it still looked good, and it still achieved your shared goals. You didn’t get to walk away from him when he was right.
You slapped him, still able to move your arms. “I told you to let me go.” He tasted blood in his mouth. When he smiled at you, you felt your blood run cold.
“Are you done?” His teeth had traces of blood on them.
You weren’t about to be intimidated by him. You didn’t cower or beg anyone, and that included Coriolanus Snow. “Let. Me. Go.” your demands fell on deaf ears.
His smile only widened, eyes glistening with a sinister light. You thought he’d be furious with you, and hated that you were out of control, but it seemed more like he enjoyed it. That he liked it when you fought back.
“I told you Y/N, I’m not done talking.”
You moved to slap him again but were met with your wrists being grabbed and pinned above your head, utterly defenceless for whatever happened next. The expectation for him to strike you back weighing in the air. But he didn’t. Instead, his lips met yours, forcing your mouth open and letting his tongue in. You tried to fight back but he bit down on your lip and stopped you. His tongue only became more insistent. Copper on both your tongues.
You didn’t hate it. You were still mad at him, obviously, but the sexual tension that always between the two of you beckoned, its tendrils wrapping around you. Who said some angry sex wasn’t the solution to your being mad at him?
Your teeth clacked against each other as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his midsection. Coriolanus’ free hand moved to support you. Standing like this he was able to grind his hips against yours, the friction delicious. The kiss was messy, both of you trying to prove something to the other with it.
When you pulled apart for air you spoke. “Let me go.” His breath was laboured, just as yours was, the rough makeout session leaving the both of you breathless.
“Not a chance, sweet girl.”
His grip on your wrists loosened, letting you slip free to pull at his hair, connecting your mouths once again. Your moans mixed with his own, body rolling to press your clothed pussy over his erection. Even though he had picked you up a multitude of times, it was always surprising how strong he actually was. His slim build did not give away how strong he actually was.
Everything between you was primal, driven by lust and anger.
Coriolanus brought you over to the couch, dropping you on your back. He liked you best like this, on your back and needy. Your high horse forgotten, and the only thing you rode him. The both of you took care to remove your clothes carefully, neither wanting to deal with a lecture from Tigris as well as knowing you had a dinner to attend in them after this. But that was where the caution ended.
The moment you were naked he had his fingers stretching you open with his thumb toying at your clit. His mouth was all over your skin, biting your breasts, adding to the marks already covering you. He was so rough with you and made you feel so small. But god did he know exactly what to do to you.
Your moans were sharp as he brought you to an orgasm. Everything you did drove him up a wall. Every time he thought he could move past it, ignoring the feeling, your pussy sucked him back in. It was your fault he made a mistake, that he lost his composure, that he went off script. He wanted access to your warmth whenever he wanted.
No matter how much he consumed you, he was still hungry, the type of hunger he hadn’t felt since the war. The one with claws that tore at his insides, teeth grinding into his bones. A bottomless pit that could never be filled. It clouded his mind with thoughts of you, your breasts and hips, the pout of your lips. He could almost always feel the sensation of you against him, biting into your soft flesh. It made him emotionally volatile, willing to risk everything for just a crumb. But every time he got a bite it filled him with dread.
Your perfume, boozy and peachy, a reminder that the only thing that would ever fill this hole was you. That when he was on the brink of death, starving and empty, it was you who would nourish him. Your being the very source of all his problems and all his solutions at the same time. A double-edged sword driving into his heart with every step he took towards you.
“See? Look how good you have it when you just behave.” you weren’t out of it yet, still able to spite back in vitriol.
“Fuck you.”
“Already have.” Coriolanus flipped you on your front, positioning you on your knees with your chest pressed against the couch.
Like this, he got to spread you open, look at what your body could offer him. Why did you have to be you? Why did you have to rival his mind and have such a perfect body? It ruined everything.
His fingers pressed back into you. He could watch you drip down them for hours, whiny and whimpering from his actions. Begging him to fuck you. No matter how you tried to act like you weren’t. You were just like him. Hungry and waiting.
Coriolanus lined up his cock with your entrance. Instead of easing into you, he thrust in fully, jolting your body forward. He wanted it to hurt, to make you feel sorry for blowing up at him. To show you that no matter how you acted out he could fuck you back into place.
He fucked you hard and fast, pulling your head back by your hair. It forced you up and to put your hands on the back of the couch. Your back arched, your shoulders almost against his chest. His other hand pinched at your nipples and tugged at them. It hurt, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.
Moving his hand out of your hair, his fingers hooked into the side of your mouth. “Your mouth can be used for better things than being disrespectful.” your drool pooled around them, dribbling out the side of your mouth as you spoke.
“I’m gonna cum.” your speech altered from his fingers.
“I don’t care.” he did care, but he couldn’t let you know that, not right now. The biggest ego death to him would be if he was unable to make you cum. It fed his ego every time you clenched down around him, pussy fluttering from your orgasm. He didn’t slow down or let up, fully intent on taking his frustration out on you.
The air between you was hot and heavy, thick with the smell of sex. With his hands free, your waist became his new hold stone. Coriolanus didn’t even have to pull your hips to meet his, you were doing that for him, bucking backwards in time. Each trust had you panting little praises for him.
He wanted to see your face. You felt him pull out of you and then sit down on the couch next to you. “Ride me.”
You shifted, placing your knees on either side of him as you sunk down on his length. When you got to the base, you took a moment to recollect yourself, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Coriolanus’ lips found the crown of your head before he even recognised what he was doing. It was odd. This intimate act in the midst of all of this. He wanted to show you that he cared, that he wasn’t mad at you anymore. Why wasn’t he mad at you anymore? He was the type to let his anger fester, angry with infection. He waited until the moment was right and then he spread his sickness, cutting down whoever upset him. You were more useful than being cut down; however, he felt strongly towards you. The one thing he wouldn’t do is name those feelings.
The drag of your hips cut off his line of thought. He watched as you rode him, your thighs shaky but not letting it stop you. When you pulled your head out to kiss him he met you, enjoying the feeling of your lips against his. Hair and makeup would have a hay day with the two of you but the way you went all the way up, his tip the only thing inside you, to then your ass flush with his thighs made their annoyance worth it. Wanting to feel you cum around him again, his thumb began circling your clit, working you up to another orgasm.
“I’m close.”
“I know.”
Your hips slowed as you came, exhausted from riding him. But Coriolanus wasn’t done. His hand wrapped around your waist, moving you to an elevated position with his dick still inside you, and he began thrusting up into you. “Hold yourself just like that sweet girl.” You did as he told you, your head lulling to the front pressing your forehead against his. With a few final thrusts, he came inside you. You were winded, your eyes closed as he guided your bodies apart and grabbed a disposal west wipe to clean the both of you up. Finally, with that done, he could lay down and settle you on top of him, both of you naked and sweaty.
Neither of you spoke for a while, just listening to each other breathe, your head on his chest.
“I’m sorry.” apologises always felt like he was trying to speak a foreign language, his tongue struggling to make the sounds. “I shouldn’t have acted impulsively.”
“I'm sorry too. I shouldn’t have blown up on you.” his fingers traced your hairline as you lay on top of him, still reeling from the sex. “I just don’t like when things don’t go to plan, and they’ve not been going to plan between us.”
He couldn’t argue against that. Everything was so fuzzy between you. He didn’t know what you were feeling, but his feelings were you weren’t something he could ignore. When he said that he couldn’t picture his life without you it was true. He thought that speaking it out to the world would alleviate the pressure, and make it something he could keep inside himself, but he didn’t. He needed you to know that it meant it.
“Would it be so bad, marrying me?”
You picked your head up. “No,” you sighed. “It wouldn’t be.” He watched you find your original position, ear over his heart.
“We could be allies.” his heart pounded as you traced patterns on his skin. “You’re the first person I’ve met I’d consider that with. I could make you the First Lady of Panem.”
Being the First Lady was an appealing idea. You’d be able to do so much more in that position. It was a core belief of yours that the games were only the first step in binding the loyalty of the country, to furthering the control over the populace. Aid programs needed to be doled out in the Districts. People who were content were less likely to look behind the curtain and see what was really happening.
“What happens when you fall in love with someone? Would we divorce and I’d lose everything, both the games and my position?” there was uncertainty in your voice.
There could never be someone after you. You were it for him. Sure he could find a docile wife and marry her, leave her be and just have kids with her. But she could never truly know him. But you could, and you were learning the true him. And you wouldn’t make him separate his work and home life, you’d dive into it with him, lethal and cunning.
“That won’t happen,” he was blunt with his statement. “You’re the only one I could do this with.”
It felt like the weight was finally lifting off him some. The pressure that had been building and threatening to blow, to whistle like a kettle. As much as he had intended for your relationship to be a temporary political alliance, he wanted it to be permanent. He didn’t trust people, but he was growing to trust you, knowing that your goals were ultimately the same.
“But what if it does?” He had never seen you so worried about his feelings, genuine concern. “Or what if I fall in love with someone else?”
“Y/N,” his thumb brushed your lips, making you face him again. “I promise you that is never going to happen. Okay?”
“Okay.”
With a final look of determination, kissed you, his lips bruising against your own. He was hoping that it conveyed that he meant it with all his heart. He was never going to fall in love with someone else, the home you made in his heart was always going to be yours. The decor exactly how you left it if you ever walked away, waiting for you to come back. You’d never get the chance to walk away but that was the sentiment, that he could forgive you for leaving him if he took you back and you stayed with him. A dove with a broken wing was still a dove. It might not be able to soar in the slides, free from the gravity of the world, but it was still a dove. Even if he broke you and locked you up, you’d still be you.
He could never love another, not when he loved you. Coriolanus loved you. The realisation shook him, a tempestuous collision of the man he was and the man he wanted to be. The crack formed by Lucy Gray was broken open once again by you. He had convinced himself that love was a weakness, that it was something to be exploited. Over the past year of getting to know you, getting to be with you, you had challenged his core beliefs, forcing him to confront the fact that he loved you.
It was hard admitting it to himself. Just hours earlier he had told Tigris off for even suggesting the idea of it, vehemently denying it. He didn’t want to love you then, terrified at the idea of you finding out and leaving. But you had said it wouldn’t be so bad to be married to him, that you’d be willing to be allies for the rest of your life. The truth was there though, written into every interaction he had with you. The glaring reality that he could no longer ignore, lingered in his eyes like a burned-in image.
It was terrifying, the exact opposite of the control he wanted to have over those around him, to have you control his heart. The practised emotional detachment he had led his life with failed in his darkest hour. The fear that you’d be just like Lucy Gray and run. It didn’t matter that you both worked on the games, that he had seen you develop new ways to punish the Capitol’s enemies, that you had just as much darkness within you as he did. That you were as ruthless as he was. The betrayal he had once experienced at the hands of a District dog had him petrified of it happening again.
Could he erase your existence like he did hers if something happened? The thought was both horrifying and tempting. He didn’t want it to come to that, to erase you, to discard you like a broken toy. You were better than Lucy Gray, you wouldn’t betray him. He wouldn’t let you. But he couldn’t come to you with this, not yet. Coriolanus Snow needed you to break down and beg him to tell him that he loved you. When he could see you, lost in your feelings for him, then he could tell you. Not before, not after. But at the moment when you are in desperate need of him, he could tell you. Only then could he believe that you loved him too.
______________________________________
Things have been busy since then and luckily you have been able to avoid conversation with your mother too. Coriolanus and you had no time to talk about your game plan and what would've happened next as the games started. Every day you were at the Citadel, ensuring things ran smoothly. He was there too, doing his own work, but the amount you had to do kept you from each other. It wasn’t until after the games ended that the two of you got a moment alone. Of course, you had been to several events together but you couldn't talk about things there. So when the last person left the production room, you were finally alone with him.
“Did you mean what you said that night on the balcony, that it was hard pretending that you loved me?”
The two of you were in his private lab. You were sitting on the edge of his desk instead of a chair, something he noticed you liked to do. After the cameras had been turned off you had taken your hair down from the pinned updo made of a braid, letting the braid hang loose.  The heels you were wearing off your feet and lost in the room. Coriolianus’ head was in your lap as your fingers brushed through his hair. The slight stubble he’d grown over the last two days catching on your tights.
His voice was muffled by your thigh. “No.”
“No you didn't mean it or no it isn’t hard pretending that you love me?” Your fingers were putting him to sleep. It had been so long since he had been touched like this. He only had one strong memory of his mother. They had been sitting before the fire, her belly full with his younger sister, her finger running through his, much like your own, singing a song he couldn’t remember now, the melody lost with time.
“No,” he finally replied, groggy. “It’s not hard pretending that I love you”
There was a flicker of hope within you when he first confessed to you that night on the balcony. You had convinced yourself that he was being vulnerable with you then, letting you in. Was this him adding kindling to that fire or dousing it?
“Is it easy then?” Each word was laced with intrigue and tinged with trepidation. The question wormed itself into the conversation, hanging in the air like the hum of the machinery. He tensed under you like he had been unprepared for this conversation, a betrayal of how he normally was.
Coriolanus’ response was slow, deliberate and weighted, with every individual syllable chosen carefully. “No, it’s not easy either.” The threading of your fingers felt so good against his scalp, it was criminal. “It’s neither easy nor hard, it’s necessary.” He shrugged with that statement, drowsy from the long day and your actions.
It was strange seeing him like this, his head in your lap as he was half asleep. The Coriolanus you knew was a man of fronts, never betraying his persona of unwavering composure and unyielding strength. He was smart and capable, bringing the Snow family back from the brink of destruction. But now there was no front present. He was relaxed and open, the tension in his shoulders finally released as he rested on your thighs. You could see every pore of skin, every hair out of place. There was a faint scar above his lip, so blended with his skin that you had never seen it before. It had access to the same medical and cosmetic treatments as you did meaning that he had left this one there on purpose. A reminder of something that had happened to him.
You chewed on his words as you watched him. It was neither easy nor hard pretending that he loved you, it was necessary. It was a non-answer, a refusal to tell you his feelings on the matter, that itself a revealing statement. He was used to his words working on others, his honied lips spinning the sweetest lies. But you had watched him, seen him change over the years. Coriolanus was a man burdened with his own demons that sat at the table with him. There was an understanding in that. You had your own demons that sat in the corner of your room every night, watching you sleep and whispering dangerous things. Neither of you were innocent good-hearted people, both of you violent and deadly.
But his cracks were showing, and that night under the stars with too much to drink, he had let you see just how much they were cracking. You were willing to pick up the pieces and help him put them back together. Your own feelings were the same as his, you were just better at hiding it.
“My father wants us to have an engagement party.”
“When?”
“In two weeks at my family estate,” knowing your father, it was going to be a spectacle. He doted on you. “But he wants to have a private dinner before that, just your family and mine.” His only family was Grandma’am and Tigris. If you wanted to, you could count the Plinths as family, even though he hated the thought of having any relationship with them.
“That’s fine. I’m sure Grandma’am will be excited, she’s been pestering me about marrying you while she’s still alive to see it.”
“She wants you to marry me?”
He murmured some form of agreement, still out of it. “She says you make me smile like I haven’t since I was a boy. It’s annoying actually, she keeps demanding that I bring you around for lunch.” This was news. Your interactions with Grandma’am had always been under the pretence of public events, you never thought much of them, but apparently she had. More than that, she thought more of your effect on her grandson.
“You should be kinder to her, you don’t know how long she’s got left.”
Coriolanus’ head lifted from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he propped his head up on a hand. “I know,” it wasn’t nice to have to think about the fact his Grandma’am was up there in age, that she maybe had another 15 years left. If that. “I’ll tell her we’ll do lunch then.”
Your smile was irresistible. “Good. The least you can do for her is let her think that you’ve found someone you genuinely love, and who loves you just as much. She’ll never know that it's just an act either. It’ll let her rest easy knowing you’re taken care of.”
His heart sank, and his stomach dropped out and onto the ground.
“Yeah, it’s a good act too.”
______________________________________
Coriolanus paced in the foyer, stopping every so often his fingers fidgeting with the knot of his tie, loosening and tightening it. His outfit was simple and smart today. His father's button-up with a red tie, a grey pinstripe waistcoat and matching trousers. The black leather of his oxfords had been polished earlier in the morning. He felt antsy, just wanting to get this luncheon over with. He shouldn’t have told you that Grandma’am wanted this, he must have been out of his mind when he did.
“Coriolanus my boy,” Grandma’am had snuck up behind him, making him jump as she put her hands on his shoulders. “You look as handsome as always, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
His smile was weak in the mirror, not reaching his eyes. “Thank you Grandma’am.” She fiddled with the shoulder of his shirt, lining it up properly as it had been moved from his walking around.
“You must really love her if it’s got you like this.”
“I do.” The words were heavy. This was the first time he had acknowledged his feelings for you to another person. The vulnerability threatened to consume him.
“I’m glad,” her eyes became teary as she spoke. “Your mother loved your father so much. I remember their wedding day. She was so nervous, running around like a rabbit. You remind me of her sometimes.” she threw her hands up like the statement was outlandish. “But of course, you’re more like your father than anything else. Strong Coriolanus Snow.”
They rarely talked about his parents, or Tigris’ parents, like this. It was easier for them all to let the dead stay dead. A bittersweet ache spread through him.
“I’m glad.” He reached out and took Grandma's hand, offering her some comfort. Talking about her dead children always set her off. They stood in silence for a beat, hand in hand, each processing their own feelings before he shattered the quiet.
“It’s easier to let the dead stay dead.”
Grandma’am nodded, her handkerchief to her eye to clean up the tears she had spilt. “Sometimes,” she acknowledges, “the past is too painful to revisit. But it’s important to remember Coriolanus. To remember the love, the laughter, the life that was lived. To honour those who came before you.”
But he didn’t want to remember the past. The past made everything worse.
The ring of the elevator cut the conversation short. You were here, and he was nervous. This was no different than a public event, you both knew the parts to play, but it was so different at the same time. You were in his family home, eating with him and his Grandma’am, and doing it purely because you thought she deserved to think someone loved him. Doing it because you cared for her. It was here that his history echoed, ghosts of the past hanging on every wall. Remnants of the boy he once was tucked away in boxes, now dusty with age.
As the elevator doors opened, revealing you standing there, those boxes came out of storage and were placed on the table for you to sort through.
“Oh! Miss Gaul! Please come in.” Grandma’am rushed towards you, excited to have you over.
“Grandma’am,” you chided, pulling her into a hug. She had shrunk in her old age and your heels didn’t help the equation, making you bend down to do so. “I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Y/N. Plus soon enough I’ll Mrs. Snow.”
“I know, I know, I just forget sometimes. Perhaps I should just call you Mrs. Snow!”
“Now I think that’s a wonderful idea!” You took a second to greet Coriolanus with a kiss and then went back to chatting with Grandma’am taking her hands in your own.
You were so delicate with her, it pained him to watch you be so kind to her. You nodded along diligently to whatever she said and were actively engaging in the conversation. He could tell that you weren’t pretending to care and that you actually wanted to speak with his grandmother. She was so animated with you like years had been removed from her. He had spent so long trying to protect her from all that had happened, and all that he had done. His actions had severed parts of their relationship, and with Tigris not living in the apartment anymore, she must have grown lonely. But you brought her back, the vibrant woman who could connect with the world.
Coriolanus sidled up to you, arm wrapping around your waist. “I hate to interrupt your conversation ladies, but I do believe Y/N came here for lunch.” It felt so right to have you like this.
“Yes, yes, Coriolanus,” Grandma’am started, “I’ll go make sure the cook has prepared everything. Why don't you show Y/N into the dining room.”
“Of course, Grandma’am.”
Alone, he nipped at your ear, his breath making your heart skip a beat. His hands were warm, one placed on your stomach the the other on your arm. You could smell the mint on his breath when he uttered a whisper in your ear, his voice low and husky. “You look stunning today.”
You were wearing all black today, something that went against the average Capitol woman. It was a high neck mini dress, stopping a few inches above your knee. The sleeves were long, longer than your hands and instead of normal holes, the fabric was spliced up to your elbow. Your heels were lower than they normally were from press events, no doubt more comfortable. The splash of colour came from your earrings. They were red, with a velvety coating on them, and shaped like rose petals separated and hung on a chain. You had remembered Grandma’am’s love of roses.
“It’s not for you, you know.” you took every opportunity to tease him. “But thank you.”
You had no idea what you did to him. “If it were for me it’d be on the floor by now.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing this is for Grandma’am and not you.” You patted his cheek. “Now are you going to show me to the dining room Coriolanus?” When you said his name you mirrored the way his Grandma’am said it.
A crooked grin rose on his face with a small laugh. “With pleasure, my dear,” he replied biting your ear again before leading you through the grand hallways of the apartment. His hand never left your back until you were sat down. You were on Coriolanus’ right, with his chair being at the head of the table.
The table was smaller than the average dining room table in the Capitol, unsurprising given the number of Snow family members there were left. It looked to seat about 10 people maximum. It was a dark-stained wood, a style that was popular in the prewar days. The walls were a pale blue, covered in a patterned wallpaper. The signature tile flooring of the apartment was carried into the dining room, laid in a geometric style with the table in the centre. It was all a testament to the family’s long history and enduring presence in the Capitol, a microcosm of the Capitol itself.
“Have you told her about the dinner?”
“No I haven’t had a chance yet-”
“What dinner?” Grandma’am sauntered into the room, waiting for Coriolanus to pull out her seat so she could sit. “The cook prepared quite a  lunch today,” she listed out the menu after she sat down, Coriolanus returning to his own seat, arms resting on the table.
“That all sounds wonderful Grandma’am. Corio’s told me how wonderful your chef is.”
“Yes, I do agree. It took me ages to find one that I liked, so many of them are lacklustre these days.”
“Well I hope my family’s chef won't disappoint you then.” you grabbed his hand on the table. “My father wanted me to invite you to a family dinner on Friday evening. It’s just a small get-together to introduce everyone to each other properly. After all, we’ll be one family soon.
“Oh, that is a wonderful idea! I’ve always had such admiration for your father’s interior design work.” Grandma’am's voice faded out for Coriolanus as she spoke. Rambling about how your father had ‘brought back the elegance of the Capitol’ through his job. Coriolanus was focused on one thing.
You were wearing the ring. He had gone in between rings for what felt like a millennium till settling on a custom made. It was reminiscent of the one he remembered his mother wearing, covered in diamonds and made of gold. Your was made of platinum, far more durable than gold and less like the be damaged by your time in the labs and only plated in gold. The centre stone was large, 1.5 carats, an emerald cut diamond. The style of the ring was similar to an ornate mirror. There were 22 stones in total, each one glittering from the chandelier's light. He hadn't stopped with just the one ring either, he needed to decorate you in the finest jewels he could buy with the Plinth family fortune. That's why your index finger had a stack of thinner, geometric, stack complimenting the engagement ring.
It thrilled him. Wedding rings were no more than a shackle connecting you to him. A show of his authority over you. Marrying you wasn’t about companionship, it was to own you. To change your last name to his own and let everyone know that he would never leave you alone. Maybe he’d let you hyphenate your last name, and you’d like that, it went against the norm.
His thumb rubbed against his own engagement ring. His was simpler, he didn’t enjoy the over-the-top couture and showmanship of the Capitol, a think gold plated platinum band with a matching kite cut diamond flush set into it. The kite shape echoed by etchings around the placement. You had picked the ring out for him after seeing your own, saying that you wanted it to match with yours. It was ironic that you chose a kite shape. They flew high in the sky, a symbol of freedom and soaring ambition.
The luncheon was nice, you had to admit. You didn’t have a living grandmother and it was nice to talk with Grandma’am as you ate. She kept telling stories of Coriolanus’ youth, much to his chagrin. The stories, and how he treated her, were different than what you had expected. He was cold towards Tigris, but he had so much warmth towards Grandma’am. What had happened between the two that caused a rift? Grandma’am spoke as if the two had been thick as thieves growing up.
When the plates were cleared, you joined Grandma’am in the kitchen as she made coffee for the two of you, Coriolanus somewhere in the apartment answering a message on his communicuff. You had offered to do it but she insisted on doing it herself, telling you that the machine was too complicated for a guest to use. But you know exactly how to use it, but that was a secret.
When she sat across from you, both your mugs steaming, her eyes were sombre. “Can you be honest with a foolish old woman?”
“I don’t see any old women here, but I can be honest.” her chuckle was wethered and dry, telling of someone who had lived through too much.
“I know my Coriolanus is a difficult man,” she always insisted on using his full name. “He’s much like his father in that regard, and I would know having raised them both. But you’re good for him. When I see him with you it's like all the horrible things he had to live through are forgotten, and that he’s that smiling boy  running around the apartment with his mother chasing after him again.” Grandma’am’s voice broke as the spoke, teetering on the edge of crying.
You grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She loved him so much.
“I love him Grandma’am, I really do.” candour in every word you spoke. “With him, I feel like I can do anything, be anything. Sometimes I think it’s all too good to be true and that one day I’ll wake up and this was all a dream that I had. Every day I pinch myself to make sure it's still real.”
“Will you always?” 
“There’s no future in which I don’t love him. He’s my now and always. And even if one day we weren’t together anymore, I’d still love him and I’d still support him. Just like he’d do the same for me.”
As you spoke Grandma’am’s tears flowed freely, but they weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of gratitude. She saw in you that she didn’t have to worry anymore, that someone other than her would love him unconditionally. Be a sanctuary to his troubled heart.
“Thank you.” as the older woman bawled you got up to hug her, rubbing her back as she sobbed.
Coriolanus had heard the whole thing but he couldn’t tell if you had said it for her or it was a confession of your true feelings. You were always perfect at playing your part.
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taglist: @serrendiipty @namelesslosers @glitteryblizzardsalad
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talesofesther · 5 months
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what once was mine | ch 3
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3
Masterlist | Read ch 2 here
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"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.
"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.
"Yeah, what's up?"
The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.
"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"
While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.
"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.
"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."
It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.
"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.
"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."
Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.
Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."
A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"
"Technically, yes."
─── ·❆· ───
"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.
Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.
You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.
Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.
Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.
A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."
With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.
Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"
"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"
"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.
"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.
"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."
You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.
"Your Loki?"
Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.
"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.
"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."
An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."
"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."
A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."
You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.
"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."
You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.
It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.
Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"
"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."
"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.
"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.
"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."
You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.
From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.
You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Read ch 4 here
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter
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iraprince · 1 month
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do u have any advice for those that want to run a quest?
it feels a LEETLE silly answering this when all my own are currently on hiatus bc i got busy (SORRY TO CALLIST0 READERS LOL) BUT!!! yes i do. i have only ever run quests/interactive comics on the site questden, so i guess as a baseline this will kind of all be geared towards that, but i think most of this should translate to any hosting situation
you have to be cool with your plots branching and mutating in unexpected ways, and you have to be willing to play ball with your readers. quests are a collaboration between the author and the audience. it often feels a lot like gming a tabletop campaign (and that's the origin!! questden, specifically, was originally an offshoot of /tg/.) -- we've all had or heard about bad GMs who view their position as that of a narrative dictator who exists to punish and prod a captive group of players thru their own personal novel, but a good GM is interested in telling stories as a group. u have final say and have to stay true to the important stuff abt ur story, but if u get mad or frustrated when ur readers want to explore something "off topic" or aren't following the threads of ur narrative the way u expected them to, u don't actually want to run a quest, u just want to make a webcomic w mandatory comments. (the flip side of this is: consider if the story u want to make is the right one for an interactive quest. if it is REALLY important to u that the plot beats of a story go a certain way, maybe save it for a medium where u have more control!)
keep it loose and fast. the art does not matter. i am rly guilty of not following this one, but i still think it's really important! one of the things i like best about quests is the barrier to entry is very low and you SHOULD be able to start and maintain one very quickly. if i were better at keeping my art scrabbly and sketchy and loose, my stuff would not go on hiatus as often as it does. draw fast! it's NICE if the art is gorgeous to look at and definitely will draw readers, but it's way better if the art is simple enough that you can update frequently and without much stress. the quality of ur writing + character building, and whether u are telling a story that's engaging and that ur readers feel meaningfully involved in, is 100000x more important than the art.
on the more nitty gritty side: try to have a hook in each update. one of the most common reasons suggestions die off is readers being unsure of what they're supposed to do next. sure, too much spoonfeeding could end up feeling like railroading, and you don't have to end every single update by getting right in their faces and yelling "WHAT DO YOU DO NEXT??", but when you finish an update try to take a second to put yourself in a reader's shoes and see if there's an obvious next step. is there a course of action to decide on/debate, are there clear questions they can ask an npc, etc -- i can't think of a great way to describe it, but you want to avoid ending an update on a note where the player character and readers are basically sitting there looking at each other like "um... okay. that's that, then." some ppl even just end all their updates w multiple choice options, which is a super simple way to keep things moving if it fits the style of what ur doing. if you don't want it to be that overt but you still can't think of a way for there to be a clear hook, you can at least try to leave a little nudge in the narration that invites the readers to try to tie whatever they've just done/learned back into the pc's main goals/motivations or current tasks. (on this subject, VERY useful for your main character to have a very specific goal or end destination that everyone is on the same page abt. it's harder for your plot to lose momentum if you can always point at what your readers are supposed to be moving toward!)
finally: KEEP UPDATING EVEN IF YOU GET VERY FEW/NO SUGGESTIONS. it's a niche genre. questden is a small website. it's hard to get people to read something new, especially if it's in a new and unfamiliar format (and especially especially when it's on a website that looks like a chanboard lmao). picking up readers takes a long time, and a lot of people lurk without suggesting (ESPECIALLY if it's a difficult/plot-important decision, and also especially in the opposite, if it's a very obvious next step and someone else has already commented what most ppl would say). it's very tempting to want to wait for more suggestions bc u "only" have one or two, and then that wait becomes stagnation, and then you're frustrated and u end up dropping the quest bc "nobody cares." instead u just have to push thru!!!! u only have two suggestions and u wish u had more? maybe next update u'll get more. u have NO suggestions and u feel like that means ur quest is dead in the water? NOPE! the solution is to update again, bc maybe ppl with latch on more and have something to say in the next scene. the more u update ur quest, the more u'll be able to talk abt it (and maybe get more readers), and specifically in the case of questden the more ur thread will be bumped to the front page. think abt how many times you've seen ppl talking abt a webcomic or a book and thought "i need to check that out eventually...." but it takes months for you to actually do it. 99.9999% of the time, ppl need to see something MULTIPLE TIMES before they check it out!! most readers do not come from clicking something the very first time they see it!! i know it can feel lonely and discouraging, but u owe it to ur art and the stories u want to tell to keep trying, even if engagement is very low at first, otherwise you're killing it before it's even had a chance. like, get shameless about it. ask your buddies to comment on your quest. but give that horse a few really good whacks before you decide it's dead!! i think that's my main thoughts. if you have any more specific questions i'm happy to help if i can! but also i think you'll learn the most by just jumping in and fucking around. quests are easy to pick up and easy to drop, and imo do really well as a playground where u test different ways to draw and tell stories, so might as well just get messy.
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mirai-e-jump · 8 months
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Hero Vision Vol.7 (2002/Summer) ft. Kamen Rider Ryuki Cast Members with Ryohei & Hidekazu Ichinose (translations below)
Takamasa Suga (Kido Shinji) Interview (page 6-7)
"At the time of this interview, the double filming for both the movie and TV series were underway, and it appears to be a real nightmare."
Suga: I'm already overwhelmed. I don't have time to sleep or even memorize the script. "What am I suppose to do?!" is the current state of things (laughs). My body is starting to get used to it, but it's still very difficult.
"Despite the demanding schedule, he always has such a sweet smile on his face. It's been six months since he started playing the role of Shinji Kido, the main character of Kamen Rider Ryuki. He says that his image of Shinji, which at first felt like a blur, has recently become more defined."
Suga: In the begining, I was so preoccupied with filming, that I honestly wasn't thinking about Shinji. I hadn't seen "Kamen Rider Kuuga" or "Agito," so I didn't know about the whole Rider process. However, when someone said to me, "Producer Shirakura said that after the transformations in Episodes 1 and 2, that was Ryuki's Shinji," I thought I had a better grasp of what was going on. I thought it was the movements of suit actor Seiji Takaiwa in the Mirror World, so I though, "Alright, I'll do that." At first, I thought Shinji was a pretty pathetic guy, but he's actually a strong leader, and always does what he thinks is right. I've recently realized how cool it is that Shinji's charm has the power to envelope everyone around.
"Not the coolness of a dependable hero, but rather, humane and tasteful coolness. He and Takaiwa-san had a close meeting to better express Shinji's emotions before and after transforming. Whether it's how Shinji sleeps, or how Shinji goes about his day after waking up."
Suga: Even in my private life, I notice I'll say, "Eh!?," or some other Shinji like reaction. Sometimes, I get caught up in a strange emotion where I can't tell who is the original, myself or Shinji.
"Suga-kun, who is now a huge part of Shinji's life, had never seen "Kamen Rider" until he was given the chance to audition. Although he had always been interested in the entertainment industry, he was unsure of his career path after high school. It wasn't untill he saw the movie "Swallowtail," directed by Shunji Iwai, where he decided to become an actor."
Suga: It felt as though I had watched that movie with my whole body. I saw it with my eyes, heard the sounds with my ears, and even felt like I smelt the movie. After watching, I was still in a mix of emotions and thought, "What is this feeling?" Then I realized, "Oh, I know! I want to be on the screen!" It was a real Shinji moment (laughs).
"After working on TV dramas and gaining some experience, he auditioned for Ryuki a few years later, but with the feeling that he was "grasping at straws."
Suga: When I went into the second round of judging, all the models around me were on the same level as Ryohei-san, so I thought this was definitely not going to work out. Even after making it to the final round, I was so nervous that at one point I said something unintelligible like, "I love beer!" When I received the news two weeks later that I got the role, I didn't believe it right away and was cautious, saying, "I don't believe this."
"When you went to the costume fitting with high expectations of what kind of cool Kamen Rider you'd see, when seeing Ryuki for the first time, you though……."Kendo?!" You were very surprised.
Suga: When I first saw it, I thought it was a really strange design that I had never seen before. Now, I'm very attached to it, and think it's the coolest out of all the riders. I love it so much.
"Of all the episodes that have been filmed so far, episodes 13 and 14 are the ones that you value the most. It's the episodes where he was distressed by the thought that he had killed Zolda."
Suga: It was then, that I once again found myself thinking about my sense of responsibility as a Rider. It was like I had just shed a layer of skin. But, even though he grows little by little this way, I would like to keep Shinji's "roots" planted as they are. Everyone around Shinji is carrying something on their shoulders, except for Shinji himself. He's quick to say, "I'll protect people," while having nothing to back up his words. No one to protect, and no past. I once thought about it deeply, and asked the producer, "Does Shinji have a past?" I was told, "No, Shinji is just a young man who had a normal upbringing." I think that's when my mind began to wander. I don't have anything to prove it, but I'm not sure that's something Shinji would say. What I am sure of, is that his emotions are straight and pure like a child, which I like. I also cherish the bad and idiotic parts of Shinji as well.
"You get along well with your co-stars, Matsuda-kun and Ryohei-kun, who are of the same generation."
Suga: We'll talk about upcoming scenes and say things like, "Ren, how do you feel about this part?" and "Ok then, let's do that part like this." We'll work through this process by trial and error. Everyone has a strong character, so I hope we can create relationships on screen that brings out the best in all of us.
Suga-kun talks about Shinji and Ryuki with more enthusiasm than usual. Everything in his life is all about Ryuki now, and he seems to be enjoying it very much. _
Satoshi Matsuda (Akiyama Ren) Interview (page 8-9)
Matsuda-kun was dressed in a black tank top, with black leather pants, and short black boots. Just like Ren, black seems to be his main image color. We asked, "Are you trying to convey Ren's image?" He responded with, "I think Ren is trying to convey me." If a normal man said those words, you'd think he was being sarcastic, but when Matsuda-kun says them, they sound natural.
"Matsuda, a native of Osaka Prefecture, still occasionally speaks with the Kansai dialect."
Matsuda: Recently, I've been able to play the role of a Ren naturally. Ren's a really cool guy, isn't he? Before, I worked hard on creating the "extreme" part of him. You don't normally see people like him in real life (laughs). People who have known me for a long time will say, "You and I are exact opposites." Usually I'm just messing around while speaking nonsense.
"Ren (Kamen Rider Knight) is a complex character, being neither right nor wrong. Therefore, when acting, Matsuda says, "I try to give weight to each word instead of saying too little." He also said, "If I move too fast, I'll look weak, so I try not to move too fast except for when I run at full speed. Like when I'm chasing after Shinji, you know?"
"He won the role of Ren through an audition, but even before doing the audition, he "debated for a week whether or not he would accept the role." According to his manager, who is Toei's producer for Ryuki, Shinichiro Shirakura, he had been paying attention to Matsuda-kun since his debut work in "Natural Girl Next ~ 100 Nights in Yokohama". Matsuda-kun, who never heard that before, shyly said, "This is the first I'm hearing of that!! I'm so embarrassed (laughs)."
Matsuda: Before the audition, I had some hesitation due to the fact that Ryuki was a children's show. So I worked with the manager, faxing each other back and forth, talking about all kinds of things, like what kind of fans the franchise had, the kind of material we had, who would watch us, and so on. In the end I decided, "Okay, I'll accept!! After all, I went through all this trouble of research, so I'll definitely have to do it now!"
"Oooh, so cool Matsuda-kun!!"
Matsuda: Afterall, I would look like a complete idiot if I failed the audition because I said, "I don't want to be associated with tokusatsu" (laughs). That's what I thought, so I didn't push back at all when I entered the production.
"Ren plays the "Secondary Rider" role in the show, and while Shinji is the main character, according to Matsuda-kun, "It's probably better than having the lead role (laughs). The camera follows Shinji, and Ren follows him in order to make the story more interesting." He goes onto say that Shinji and Ren have a bad relationship."
Matsuda: Rather than liking, disliking or having a friendship with him, I feel it's more like, "It's stupid to even hate this guy" (laughs). When he says to Shinji, "I owe you one," he says it as if embarrassed, and I think it's Ren's way of dealing with Shinji that he'll carry through to the end.
"There are rumors (!!) on the internet that you're on bad terms with Takamasa Suga, who plays the role of Shinji."
Matsuda: I'm often asked by magazine reporters if we don't get along (laughs). But, it's actually really surprising to be asked such a question. Sugacchi (Suga-kun's nickname on set), is a good friend and co-worker, who I usually go home together with, or out on the town together. So, I'm trying to figure out what else I should do to emphasize how well we get along with each other.
"It's been said that you're also on good terms with Hassei Takano, who plays Tezuka Miyuki (Kamen Rider Raia)."
Matsuda: He and I are strangely compatible. On my way to the studio, we meet up at a convenience store near the train station and make the 10 minuet walk while goofing around. That's what we like about each other (laughs)
"He says that working as an actor is difficult, but also enjoyable. He says that tokusatsu programs are particularly appealing because he can play a role over the span of a year. However, he also has his complaints."
Matsuda: I've begged the staff to do more action! Riders fight after transforming, so there's not much action before the transformation. And since Ren is supposed to be a strong fighter, he can knock out his opponents with a single punch. Well, that's not exactly what I mean, I just wanted to make a big statement. The other day, there was a scene where Takashi Hagino, who plays Takeshi Asakura (Ouja), filmed a scene that I really liked, and I watched admiringly while also being jealous (laughs).
"Matsuda-kun was originally scheduled to work for a fashion related company, but after his debut, understood "the depth of the industry," and chose to be an actor."
Matsuda: Ryuki is a battle between 13 Riders, but in reality, it's also a war between the Riders to see who can survive and who will be eliminated. That's why I myself, feel like I'm in a very serious competition as Akiyama Ren. There's no end to how difficult it is to be an actor, and the fact that there is no answer, not a single one, is fascinating. It's perfect for a arts major like myself.
Ren (Knight), wasn't the only one who continues to fight without an answer. Actor Satoshi Matsuda's battle has only just begun. _
Hassei Takano (Tezuka Miyuki) Interview (page 10-11)
Two years ago, Takano-kun gained popularity for his cool acting as Hiroya Fujimiya (Ultraman Agul) in "Ultraman Gaia." He didn't expect that he would also appear in Kamen Rider Ryuki as the fifth Rider, "Raia." As expected, no one else has appeared in both productions but him.
Takano: At the time I overheard from a friend of mine that, "There are going to be 13 Kamen Riders this time around." "Eh? That many?," we talked about it so normally. Then he said, "My friends are going to be in it." It turned out to be Matsuda-kun (Akiyama Ren) and Yuge-kun (Yura Goro). So, while I had heard stories, it was a surprise that I was also going to appear in the show. It felt almost like fate (laughs).
He had no hesitations about appearing in a tokusatsu program for a second time, as he thought to himself, "I want to do it."
Takano: If I had been the me from a little while ago, I might have been a little put off, but this time, I'm enjoying the challenge of how to play the hero and making them look good.
"The days of Ultraman Gaia were the dawn of a new era for tokusatsu. This was followed by "Kamen Rider Kuuga," which marked the new wave of tokusatsu, as these series of works have made the public recognize tokusatsu programs more and more in recent years."
Takano: I felt this phenomenon firsthand. The quality of "Gaia" was high, and I felt that the range of people watching the show was expanding, but since filming Ryuki, I've realized how popular these shows are.
"This is a comment only a performer of two works can make. What did you feel was the different between Ultraman and Ryuki when you actually played the role?"
Takano: The difference in enemy size (laughs). In Ultraman, alot of the performance is looking up and imagining the enemy in the blue background. Furthermore, for Ultraman, the SFX team would split up my shots in two directions, whereas in Ryuki's case, I would just keep saying, "Ok, I going to transform," so I really felt that I was transforming. I'm actually really fond of it. Uh…But, when I was shown a picture of Raia's image for the first time, I honestly thought, "Eh-?!" (laughs). The color is kind of mediocre, like it's pink metallic with some orange. Personally, I love blues and black, so I thought, "It must be nice being Knight~." Everyone else has a clear motif, like a bat or dragon, but Raia is a stingray? Can't I be a shark or maybe a whale? Furthermore, I'm a fortune telling stingray? eh? (laughs). At first, I was surprised by the world view of Ryuki. "A net for grilling meat?", "Transforming with a card?" things like that (laughs).
"That was a very honest yet blunt comment by Takano-kun. But now, he loves playing the role of Raia. As for the character of Miyuki Tezuka…"
Takano: I liked him from the very beginning. Tezuka wanted to change his Rider's fate. The desire to push back against something that's already been decided is a natural trait inherent in humans, isn't it? "If I can decide my future, then this wasn't it!," and I think everyone wants to change something. I think Tezuka, who says that he creates his own future, is a very charming and passionate character to play.
"Takano-kun says that he also admires Tezuka. In the show, there is a scene where Tezuka asks Shinji, "Have you ever felt so lost that you feel you could die?"
Takano: I've never been that unsure. I am indecisive, so when I'm in doubt, I'll ask someone else to decide for me (laughs). Even when I'm hanging out with friends, they'll say, 'Where do you want to go?" I'll say, "You decide. I'll follow you." I admire Tezuka's way of life, but it seems so extreme that I'd rather not live like him.
"By dying, Tezuka proved to Shinji that he could "change his future" with his own hands."
Takano: For Tezuka, when I read the script about him becoming a Rider because of what happened to his friend, I cried a little.
"At first, Takano-kun heard that Tezuka's friend (Saito Yuichi) was initially suppose to be a racer. The story was originally about him being unable to use his legs due to an accident, then, it was changed to him being a pianist that lost the ability to use his hands due to an incident caused by Ouja (Takeshi Asakura). This is what caused Tezuka to become more agitated before the battle with Ouja."
Takano: What's most sad to think about, is that I'll no longer have a role in the show after I die. In Ultraman Gaia, I was always out of sync with everyone else and was often alone, but this time we were always together.
"As their senior in tokusatsu, he gave advice to Suga-kun and Matsuda-kun, and in return, they taught him about Ryuki. On one occasion, when filming for the day finished early, the three of them went out for drinks in Shinjuku"
Takano: At that time, there was a counter across from the table where we were sitting, and there was a young woman reading a copy of Hero Vision. I noticed and went, "Ah-!," and all three of us were exposed immediately. I thought to myself at the time that the popularity of tokusatsu programs were reaching new heights (laughs).
Kamen Rider Ryuki, which was made with the help of people of his generation, will likely be a very memorable work for Takano-san. _
(partial translations for the rest below)
Kamen Rider Ryuki - Film Site Report (Page 12) (top, 1st photo): "Between takes, they made friendly conversation. They were constantly surrounded by the neighborhood children, but only Matsuda-kun kept his distance from them (laughs)." (bottom, last photo): "In his hand is Dragreder. Hidden away in his bag is a Ryuki Plushie." _
Satoshi Ichijou (Shibaura Jun) Interview (page 14)
"The sixth Kamen Rider, Gai (Shibaura Jun), is a smart, game freak, and coldhearted college student, while Ichijou-kun, who played Jun, is also an active college student."
Ichijou: During filming, I had to ask my friends to help me with various things like, "I’m sorry! I lost my attendance card somewhere" (laughs).
"When Ichijo appeared in Kamen Rider, his friends reaction were, "We can't watch it because it airs tooooo early in the morning!" The reaction of his friends are very natural."
Ichijou: On my days off, I hang out with my friends in my hometown. I also play street futsal with the guys from my high school soccer team, as well as those from the baseball and basketball teams who liked to play soccer. There's a place behind Meiji University in Ochanomizu, where we play all the time and always win, plus, it's free to get into (laughs).
"At first he wondered how he was going to fit in, but it turned out "they were all nice people" and he settled in easily."
Ichijou: I was aware from the beginning that Gai would be gone in five weeks, so it wasn't a shock to me that he died. But, I had been wondering how he was going to die. I really didn't think he would die in an explosion (laughs). Furthermore, what's inside the suit of a Rider whose been bombed to death with such incredible force? I wonder.
Ichijo-kun is an active university student with a flexible attitude. I wonder where we'll see him next?
_
Yasuko Kobayashi (Main Writer) Interview (page 15)
"When the production of Kamen Rider Ryuki was announced, we were surprised at how ambitious the setting was."
Kobayashi: I think that 13 riders were chosen in part because Bandai was going to produce alot of toys. Rather than having just one rider with multiple forms changes, Bandai said, "Let's have a lot of Riders." We planed to use this as a strategy to create an impact in terms of the number of participants. At first, we wanted to say, "Let's send out 50 Riders!," and I think Bandai was also interested in the number of people who would be involved in the project. Bandai also requested that we integrate cards in and to fight in a different universe. That's why Producer (Shinichiro) Shirakura-san must have thought a lot about it, until he decided on what we now call the "Mirror World." We wanted it to look like there was a "story" first, and not the "setting" first.
"In certain situations, only the main character, Shinji, "Has no reason to fight", which we think is very original."
Kobayashi: I think it's important to sometimes say "It can't be helped," because other people are carrying a variety of burdens. Because he's not carrying anything on his back, he's able to look at the battle from a "pure" perspective, which is what makes him the main character. I think the strength of not carrying anything on one's back comes out in the genuine strength of a person. Because, even though there is nothing of interest at stake, it's usually impossible to do something dangerous or foolish like risking lives, especially for today's generation. That's why Shinji is the strongest of them all……is what I think.
"However, Shinji watches and fights for Ren and his friends suffering, and in the end, Shinji too is able to grow.
Kobayashi: But, I don't think it's a good idea for him to grow based on circumstances of the people around him, due to them being so grave. However, how we move Shinji forward is an issue for the future. What will happen to the relationship between Ren and Shinji is the most important thing now. _
Ryohei & Hidekazu Ichinose: The Secret Records Vol.1 (page 17)
"How did you two get to know each other?"
Ichinose: I went into the office because I wanted to ask for some advice. Goro-chan immediately stopped me at the entrance (laughs).
Ryohei: Goro-chan is a bodyguard, you know (laughs). Actually, we had a mutual acquaintance. The first time we met was before I got the role in Ryuki. It was after I had auditioned, so it must have been last fall.
"Recently Ichinose-san has completed filming for "Ultraman Cosmos."
Ichinose: "The question now is how can I make the most of what I have gained during the past year? The other day, I was in Myanmar to live on a lake as part of the filming for "Sekai Ururun Taizaiki," where I had a great time, and I hope everyone enjoys the broadcast! I slept soundly every night, and even drank tea made from boiled river water without getting sick or having an upset stomach. After this I hope everyone will continue to look out for me.
Ryohei: I'm currently putting all my energy into Ryuki. I'm happy that I'm popular among adult women, but what I really want is for children to focus on me. I would be happy to receive fan letters from children. I really don't understand them at all (laughs). I like kids, but they're all afraid of Kitaoka, so when they see me on the streets, they back away, and, I'm pretty sure won't look me in the eyes?
Ichinose: The children become frozen.
Ryohei: It's strange, isn't it?
"It may seem unconvincing, but we're rooting for you to become popular with the children!"
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definesanity · 1 year
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Reforge Thy Fate.
(Or, a montage of Darling with the Harbingers in the Fatui!AU.)
Taglist: @barbatoskisser, @gunterdon, @nicebonescomrades, and @chocoenvy.
The Nine of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers: Pantalone, The Regrator.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Why yes, you were bored out of your mind, how could one tell?
You had nothing against Pantalone. Although, if you had known he was this quiet when reading through profits, you would have left him to it as to not distract him.
With a sigh, however, he placed the book aside. "Ah, finally. I do hope you weren't too bored, Your Grace?"
"Don't worry, I wasn't." sitting up from your seat, you couldn't help but have a thought strike you. "...Say, I have a riddle for you."
"A riddle?" Pantalone's smile grew at that. "Well, do not keep me waiting, if you'll so please."
"What weighs more: a kilogram of steel, or a kilogram of feathers?"
The Ninth Harbinger's mouth opened before immediately closing again.
"Neither. They're both a kilogram."
You breathed a sigh of relief at that. "You'd be amazed the amount of people who would be tricked by that."
"Well, many don't think on them both be a kilogram, so they'd naturally go for metal, which is typically the heavier one."
You nodded. "Can't fault them there. Not many people look at the finer details. Minus you. If I gave you a thirty page long paper of terms and conditions, you'd read them all."
"Heh. I'm flattered you think of me the way I like to be; a banker. And, while my patience would dwindle... yes, I'd read the full pages."
-------------
The Eleven of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers: Ajax, Tartaglia, Childe.
"Morning, Your Grace! Mind if I take a moment to ask you something?"
"Childe." you nodded at the ginger-headed bastard. "Something the matter?"
"No, not at the moment; I just wanted to ask a... personal, question."
You knew where this was going. "Zhongli?"
"Zhongli." he replied, his voice not betraying his anger. "Out of curiosity... did he hurt you?"
"No; I had a few close meetings with his spear, but the only thing I had in the end was some mental trauma."
"So, yeah." You concluded. "No need to worry."
Childe shook his head at your nonchalance. "Your Grace, with all due respect... you may not remember it, but when I was little, and fell into The Abyss... it was you who helped me."
"What of Skirk?"
"My Master... I'll admit, she helped me. But only physically, helping me train myself and my body to withstand the darkness. But you, who's light shines even in the deepest part of that same darkness?
"That was what guided my mind. So please, try and have more faith in your followers. If not for I, then at least for the others?"
...After a moment, you sighed. "I will try my best."
"Thank you, Your Grace. Now, onto other business..."
-------------
The Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers: Zandik, Il Dottore, The Doctor.
You still have muscle memory from all your experiments in Triple Science. So, watching Zandik, or Dottore Primus, work was really bringing back those times.
"We didn't have Alchemy, back in my world," you commented offhand, reading one of the few books you had brought with you; a book on Ancient Greece.
And odd choice, but The Doctor was an odder person.
"Truly?" he sounded mildly surprised. "How odd. Erstwhile, it must be strange to return to a world with Alchemy, yes?"
"It is... say, are you mad about the whole ordeal with Buer?"
"I am... indifferent. They were helpful, yes, but in retrospect, it was just I wanting to relive my previous years. In addition, I am the Second in strength, not in numbers."
"...Well," you said. "I suppose you have a point."
"I may be mad to others, but truly; with the things I've done... could a madman have done those?"
'No,' you think. 'Because even then, they had some sort of humility to them.'
-------------
The Cryo Archon, The Goddess of Love, The Tsaritsa.
The Tsaritsa, while cold, was like snow and ice; on the outside was a frigid, slippy ice that pushes others away. On the inside, she was like snow that, while also cold, was much softer. Like now, for example.
The light of day slipped through the curtains, and though you wanted to move, a large arm kept you in place.
"My love," you whispered. "We can't stay here all day."
No reply.
"I know you're up, my love."
"...Nngh..." The Tsaritsa groaned. "...You truly cannot spare another moment?"
"A moment usually means an hour. But, unfortunately..." you sighed, snuggling closer. "You're too warm."
"Then rest, My Grace." tilting your head up to gaze at the towering God, she smiled down at you. "You, of all people, deserve it the most."
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cecedownbad · 10 months
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Been on my mind for sometime (call it stupid but let me have a moment). I wrote this with Vendetta Leon in mind.
How pissed would Leon be in an isekai trope? The reader (you) opens up to him about what this world is in your original place, sure it's still Earth but not the same thing. He obviously would be stunned, beyond words would laugh at you for even saying, "we're in a...videogame....you are a videogame character....", Cause you're joking, right? A videogame? His life is a....videogame? You're fucking serious?
And that's when you try and explain to him that it isn't a lie, and he can't accept it, understandably. I would imagine he then processes it all little by little, letting it all simmer in his mind before the anger and disbelief takes a hold, "So, you, whoever the fuck you are," Uh Oh, "You don't belong to this 'world', you're from a different Earth that is normal, doesn't have any B.O.Ws, the dead stay dead, no evil corporation trying to make monsters to support the military and you somehow, with some shit luck, managed to make it to our Earth, a bit more fucked up and this Earth ends up being from a known Videogame you've played before?" He said it, phrasing the end like a question, oh but he knew he didn't need an answer to what he listed out.
"This whole place, this mess we're in, the people we lost are what? Entertainment to you? As if learning that there will always be assholes who make B.O.Ws wasn't enough, our world is nothing but a videogame to you fuckers to play around with huh?" This doesn't sit right with you, now all you feel is utter regret for even opening your mouth. You knew Leon, thought of him like a person even before this whole thing went down. He was a person in your mind like most of the characters save for a few. You couldn't say anything to him, what could you have said that made him feel better? Feel less...this?
"Why did you bother telling me all this, should have just shut up, should have told me to stop asking questions! This is.... ridiculous, you waltz in here, acting like you had amnesia, but you had an uncanny knowledge for all the B.O.Ws we've fought with in the past. Not to mention how you knew, exactly what shit I went through, how I grew up and it all boils down to us being a part of some, what? Over millions of people's entertainment?...I need you to leave."
"Wait, Leon—"
"I said leave, goddamit!"
Quietly you get up from the chair, placed by a rounded table. Walking away from all this but it never does sit right with you. Having no idea of what Leon could be thinking sends you into a panic, but that felt selfish to you. To be thinking about the toll it would take on you compared to the blow it would be on him, his whole life is a lie at that point. But you slowly felt it sit in that puddle of rotting emotions, how long would he be pissed at you for his life?
This is unfair, an agreement falls on that but what does it take for him to take your words seriously ever? Scoffing at every remark you make, every suggestion, every idea you place on the table, with all his responses being along the lines of, "Let me guess? A videogame taught you that?" Believing that all of this, was your fault?
"Leon—you know what? You were right, I really should not have told you anything—"
"Guess we're on the same page then,"
"—I'm not finished, I shouldn't have told you anything because it seems like you want to understand the situation in your own fucking terms of ignorance. I didn't make this fucking game!"
The two of you sat in silence, Leon's expression leaving a trail of bitter annoyance. "I didn't make you, I didn't do any of this, fuck, you think I wanted to be here? You think for a fucking second that hey, maybe I shouldn't put the blame on you for finally being trusting enough to open up to me about this. It's a shitty situation, you don't want to be here, well, neither do I!" It was so insanely stupid, why were you even yelling at him? What was this conversation supposed to lead to? A happy ending of accepting your differences? Holding your hands together in understanding?
This was it, maybe this is where the two part ways. Not having to see your face would make his days a little better, although the idea of all this still sits on him, at least your presence won't further the thought. This was what you needed, it was a horrible few months, being here, trapped, opening up about any of this only lead to your string of regrets making an entrance.
Without a word, you walked away. There was no call to make you stop, no rushing footsteps to hold you back, nothing.
I'm sorry, I got carried away here, got invested in my thoughts so quickly. Just an idea that I dragged on to be honest, but honestly, I would imagine this would piss all of the characters off, not only Leon. Imagine Chris? Damn.
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maniculum · 2 months
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Happy Scorpion Sunday! This is a special one for me personally, because this scorpion is from the Rutland Psalter! The Rutland Psalter is, in my opinion, absolutely peak medieval marginalia.* (The actual text is just, you know, psalms, who cares -- the marginalia is the point.) I'd tell you more about the manuscript, but I don't have the details memorized beyond "13th century English psalter" -- I just really enjoy flipping through the digitized version and looking at all the critters and such. (Which I still can't do, thanks to the British Library cyberattack, &c. &c.)
*There are definitely manuscripts out there where the marginalia looks like it required more technical skill -- like the ones where the whole margin is basically a lush painting -- but I prefer the ones where it's just, "there's a blank space at the bottom of the page so I drew a Funny Little Guy there". The Rutland Psalter does this style better than any I've seen. The Luttrell Psalter is a close second.
The point is, this little guy here is what made me aware of the Medieval Scorpion Thing in the first place. I already knew that medieval European texts didn't characterize scorpions terribly accurately because I'd had to read Ancrene Wisse for a grad seminar, and the author of that describes the standard "serpent with a woman's face" version. But this is the first illustration I saw where I thought, "wait, that's supposed to be a scorpion?"
Anyway, enough personal junk, here are the points:
Small Scuttling Beaſtie? ✓
Pincers? ✘
Exoskeleton or Shell? ✘
Visible Stinger? ✘
Limbs? 12
I'm also giving this one a full 5/5 in vibes. Part of that is personal bias, but I really do like the guy. Look at his little paws, his little face... darling. Imagine him scuttling around your home begging for snacks.
That gives us a total of:
6.8 / 10
Ah, memory lane.
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dragons-and-cake123 · 3 months
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PJO Incorrect Quotes
Percy: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they have also met me.
——
Percy: *trying to buy a Father's Day card at Hallmark*
Percy: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?"
Associate: Well, I-
Percy: How about "You banged my mom?"
Associate: No...
Percy: You know what, I'll just get a blank one.
Percy: *writes* You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.
——
Percy: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.
——
Percy: I have yet to encounter a problem where a sword didn't factor into the solution at least in some way.
——
Percy as a child: I can't wait to grow up and have cool adventures!
Percy now: I can't wait to go to bed.
——
Percy: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve!
——
Percy: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?
——
Percy, tearing up the room: Where are they?
Percy, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?
Percy: Somebody moved my M&M's, and now I am going to start killing.
——
Percy: Sometimes, I don't realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.
——
Percy: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!
——
Percy: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash.  Percy: *slow-mo walks out of the room*
——
Percy: Helpful grammar tip: “farther” is for physical distance, “further” is for methaphorical distance, and “father” is for emotional distance!
——
Percy, admiring a sleeping Annabeth: You’re so cute. 
Annabeth, sleepily: I could beat your ass. 
Percy, lovingly: I know.
——
Annabeth: If the thought of something makes any of you giggle for longer than 15 seconds, you are to assume you're not allowed to do it.
——
Annabeth: "Ladies and gentlemen" is unnecessarily gendered, overly formal, lengthy, and honestly, I'm falling asleep already. 
“Cowards" on the other hand, is inclusive to all genders, to the point, and dramatic.
——
Annabeth: as a child, reading their school assignment out loud: I love my library because...  Annabeth, mouthing words while writing: I love reading, fuck you.
——
Annabeth: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.  The Squad: Awwww-  Annabeth: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."  The Squad: Oh.
——
Annabeth: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Annabeth lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!
——
Annabeth: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.
——
Annabeth, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.
——
Hazel, playing a video game: How do I play?
*Hazel has drawn first blood!*
*Hazel is on a killing spree!*
*Hazel is on a rampage!*
*Hazel is unstoppable!*
*Hazel is dominating!*
*Hazel is godlike!*
Hazel: Don't worry guys, I figured it out.
——
Leo: No problemo!
Leo, internally: But it was all problemo.
——
Leo: *Plays Slender: The Eight Pages*
*Jumpscare*
Leo: *Jumps back* OH SHIT, IT'S A WHITE GUY!!!
——
Leo: Hello, McDonald's, I would like to purchase 130 chicken nuggets. Prepare yourselves.
——
Leo: It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.
——
Jason: Do you even, cuddle, bro? Do you even lift, bro… each other up with kindness? Do you tell your loved ones that you care about them regardless of who is listening? DO YOU EVER RESOLVE CONFLICTS, EMOTIONAL ISSUES THROUGH COMPROMISE AND COMPASSION RATHER THAN ANGER AND DENIAL?!
——
Jason, looking at the squad: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.
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fanpageknight · 2 years
Text
A New life
Posted:8/9/22
Title: A new life
Yandere Tangerine x GN reader
Summery: Lemon helped Tangerine kidnap his darling and now it's just a simple train ride home.
Author's note: this was rushed but I like it.
Warnings: Kidnapping, yandere, drugging
🔞18+ page due to dark and adult themes. Minors will be blocked🔞
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"Just so you know... this is fucked, man," Lemon said to his brother, gently setting you in a train seat. "Yeah well, you agreed to help me and we've done much worse." Lemon was about to sit next to you but Tangerine grabbed his arm and nodded towards the other seat. Lemon huffed and moved seats.
Your unconscious body leaned against the train window, unaware of where you were. Tangerine smiled at you and took off his brown trench coat to lay over you like a blanket. Lemon shook his head wondering why he had to be so loyal to his brother. "Thank you for helping me out..." Tangerine mumbled to Lemon, who couldn't stay mad at him. "You're welcome. You still owe me for this though." Lemon pointed his finger at him. "Yes, I know. You've only reminded me a thousand times." "As I should because you know who would do something like this...Diesel." Tangerine rolled his eyes as the train started to move. "Diesel would fuckin kidnap someone." "How the fuck does a train kidnap someone? It's a train." Tangerine asked. "I don't know but a Diesel would figure it out." "Diesel's a fuckin train. He doesn't even have thumbs. He psychically couldn't kidnap someone." "No, but he could bribe someone- the trains are a metaphor," Lemon informed frustrated. "Metaphor for what?" "For people, man-"
As the brothers bickered you began to wake up. Your sleepy groan quieted them. Your eye fluttered open to see the things flying by you. You jump back away from the window and into someone's shoulder. "Hey. Wow. Easy." A man seated a cross from you says. You looked at him to realize you don't recognize him. "Yeah, Luv. You're all right." Says a voice behind you while their hand comes to rest on your shoulder. Before he has time to make it comfortable you move away pressing yourself against the window. A second strange man was wearing a blue suit. You look down to see a trench coat in your lap. You look between them scared and confused. "Where am I? Who are you?" "I'm Lemon." Said the man across from you. The man next to you smiled and held out his hand. "And I'm Tangerine." He patiently waits for you to take his hand. You cautiously reached for it. His large hand took yours gently brings it to his lips to kiss it while looking into your eyes. You tried to pull your hand away but he held too firmly in his lap. Realizing you can't get your hand back you decide to relax it and try to remain calm. "Oh right." Tangerine clears his throat. "I'm not sure how to explain this to you-" "He's obsessed with you so he asked me to help kidnap you and take you to a safe house hidden in Japan." Tangerine whipped his head to Lemon. "Lemon!" "What? That's what happened." Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I was going to put it more gently." "How are you supposed to put something like that gently?" You did your best to keep up with what there were saying. "I don't know I was-" Tangerine stopped when he hear you whisper. "What the fuck..." His thumb stroked your hand and he lifted your chin with his free hand getting you to look into his eyes. "Hey~ It's okay, Luv. It's not as bad as it sounds." His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. You swat it away. "Really because that sounds pretty fucking back!" "But it's not, Luv. Those words may sound bad and scary but all they mean for you is, that you're going to live a new luxurious life with me in a beautiful new home. This suit isn't just for a good first impression, Luv~ My career pays very well-" "If you wanted a good first impression maybe you shouldn't have kidnapped me!" "I tried telling him that-" Lemon started to say but you cut him off. "Then why did you help him!" Tangerine's hand came over your mouth and the other on the back of your head. "Kept your voice down. We wouldn't want to draw attention to ourselves now would we, Luv? Would we?" He asked a second time and you shook your head no. He smiles. "Good~" He kisses your forehead and lets go of you completely.
Lemon suddenly stands. "Where are you going?" Tangerine asks. "The bathroom. I'll be right back." Tangerine watches him walk away. Then looks at you to see you cuddle up with his coat trying not to cry. "I promise everything will be fine. Our home is off the mainland so it's nice and isolated. I've also filled it with things you love." "Y-you've been stalking me? How did I not know?" He smiles. "Because I'm a professional, Luv." "H-how l-long-" "That doesn't matter. None of that matters. What matters is..." He turns his body to face you fully. "What matters is that I love you very much and there is finally more to my life than killing people. I want to spoil you and care for you... is that so bad?" "Killing?" Your attention was pulled away from him Lemon sitting back down. "Those toilets are fancy, bruv."
A blonde woman came along with a snack trolley and parked in front of the three of you but turned her back to help someone else. Tangerine was quick to take something and hid it in his suit jacket. Turning towards you she asks everyone if they would like something to which everyone said no. As she moved on to the next part of people you wish you could have told her you needed help. "Here." Tangerine pulls a pack of candy from his coat and hands them to you. You take it to see that it's your favorite.
He watches you mess with the packaging nervously. Leaning to whisper in your ear he says. "It's okay, y/n. She gone. We won't get caught~" you know he was referring to the candy but it sent shivers down your spine givin the circumstances. That was also the first time he's said your name. Without Leaning way he puts he's hands over the packaging and effortlessly opens it for you. "T-Thank you..." "You're welcome~" He kisses your cheek and sits back in his chair.
At some point Lemon had fallen asleep and Tangerine had been able to get his arm locked with yours forcing you to use his shoulder as a headrest with his head leaning on yours.
You sat up a little and his grip tightened. "I... I have to pee." He sighed and stands up to stretch. "Well come on." He holds out his hand waiting for you to take it. You did and stood. Tangerine's grip was tight as he lead you to the bathroom. He opened the door for you and closed it behind you.
As you were using the bathroom you could hear Tangerine talking to someone. The second person didn't sound like Lemon. Washing your hands you listen in. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Tangerine asked aggressively. "What I can't visit Japan?" Answered the mystery voice nonchalant. You began to open the door. "Tangerine?" You say getting a glimpse of the mystery person. They looked like a man with long blonde hair. The door was slammed closed. "Who was that?" Asked the blonde man. "No one that fuckin considered you." Tangerine hissed at him. "Yeah... sure. Listen I'll mind my business if you mind yours." Tangerine huffed and agreed. Footsteps walked away before Tangerine opens the door looking stressed. "Come." He says pulling you out of the bathroom and quickly walking back to your seats.
He looks around then kicks Lemon awake. "What man? I'm up." Tangerine explained to lemon that the blonde man was from a previous job and he thinks he followed them here. "Are you serious, man?" Lemon groaned. "Alright fine I'll go look around. You stay here." Lemon got up and left.
Tangerine bounced his leg up and down worried. You couldn't take it and without thinking you grabbed his thigh to still it. "Would you please stop it?" Tangerine stopped and looked at your hand on his thigh. He smirked and put his hand on yours forcing you to keep it there. "You just can't keep your hands off of me can you, Luv?" You blushed. "T-Thanks not-" "Oh sorry am I interrupting something?" You and Tangerine to see the blonde man seeing in Lemons spot. Tangerine looks around quickly to try can see if the Lemon was around. "I thought we agreed to mind our own business?" Tangerine asked. "Yeah well, we did then you sent your brother to look for me." "You're brothers?" You asked him which he ignored. "I'm ladybug." The man said reaching out to shake your hand. You leaned forward to try and shake his hand but Tangerine yanks your arm backward. Ladybug raised an eyebrow realizing he was right in guessing something was wrong with this situation. Tangerine kept your arm in his lap. "I think you need to bug off." "Who's your friend?" Ladybug asked. "I won't tell you again, ladybug." "I'm just trying to make conversation-" Tangerine went to punch ladybug but it was blocked. You let out a startled scream and watch as the two men began to fight.
As they were distracted you were able to get up and leave the cart. Quickly you move through the train trying to put distance between you and Tangerine while hoping you don't run into Lemon.
After a few minutes, the train comes to a stop. When the doors open you peak out to see if you spot either of your kidnappers.
There aren't many people at the station due to how late it is, so it was easy to see they weren't there. Quickly you step off the train. Hurried you start walking trying to look for an exit or help. To your luck, you spot a security guard. You run up to them begging for help. "Help me! I've been kidnapped!" The guard tries to calm you and starts to ask questions but is cut off by a bullet going through their skull. "Aahh!" You screamed as the blood wet your face. You quickly stepped back wiping the blood off your face and looking at it stan your hands. Looking around you see Tangerine holstering a gun with a cigarette hanging in between his lips. He takes it out as he stocks towards you. "Where you think goin Luv?!" He shouted so you could hear him from his far distance.
You turn to run but you run into something. Looking up you see Lemon. He's quick to lock his arms around. "Sorry about this. It's nothing personal. I promise. Just helping out my brother." He turns you in his arms. Your back to his chest. Tangerine flicked his cigarette. As the train doors close. "Fuck man." Lemon said watching it leave. Tangerine stops I'm front of you glaring at you. "Are you happy? We missed our train." "What are we going to do? That was the last train of the night." He looks up at lemon. "We'll just have to get a hotel room for the night... Do you still have the sleeping drugs on you?" "Yeah I do." Lemon says pulling out a small jar with white power in it. "No please!" Tangerine smiles at you. "If you didn't want to be drugged you should have been good~" He wipe away your tear then kisses it off his finger. Lemon walks you over to the vending machine as Tangerine looks at all the options of drinks. "What would you like, Luv?" He looks at you to see you quietly crying to yourself. "Water it is." He pays the machine and waits for the figi water to fall out.
Undoing the lid you watch him but in all of the power. "No please. I'll be good." He closes it and shakes it up well. "Relax your acting like I'm going to poisoning you. It the same thing we put in your breakfast and we got you from your home to Japan so... drink up." "We did also use chloroform." Lemon added. "What?" Tangerine asked. "Well you said that like we only use the power on them this whole time. When they would wake up a little we would use chloroform." "Yes we used chloroform. I remember. It doesn't matter. Please just drink the water." You shook your head. Tangerine sighed. "Let's not do this the hard way, luv." You pressed your lips tightly closed. "They want to do it the hard way." Lemon said. "Fine. Have it your way." Tangerine pinched you nose closed and waited.
As soon as you ran out of air your mouth opened and Tangerine shoved the water inside. Removing the bottle his hand closed over your mouth. "Come on be good for me,luv." He glared into your eyes and hissed. "Swallow~"
🍊°🍊°🍊
Part 2
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parmmykitty · 3 months
Text
Expect the 3rd chapter when the bell tolls one! I'm sorry but I can't make the ghosts all someone Wesker knows in cannon since I'll run out of people quick, so I'm gonna improvise. This is its own little universe that doesn't make sense in the bigger picture, but it's fine. (I'm also making my own lore of his childhood there's literally nothing to work with but the wiki page. Sue me.)
The R.P.D. Christmas Carol pt. 3
Scrooge!Wesker x Secretary!Reader
Pt.1 Pt.2
The sound of a phantom grandfather clock resounded throughout Wesker's bedroom at one o'clock sharp. The tune of the clock ending in one final ring to indicate 1 in the morning.
Wesker's eyes flew open with the final chime. The room was just as it was when he had gone to sleep an hour prior. The moonlight coming in through the window gave a sense of peace and made him less tense.
All at once the room came to life when the door slammed open hard enough to damage the wall. With it a blinding light shinging in Wesker could barely make out the figure coming in through the door. He shot up in bed, reaching for his gun for the second time that evening. The silhouette floated in the room in a strange mix between seemingly floating and swimming. As she entered the room the door shut behind her blocking the light and making the room dark once again.
"Let me guess. You're the ghost here to show me the error of my ways?" He said sarcastically.
"Yeah, and you better be grateful for it." The ghost responded smoothly. With the light gone Wesker could finally see what the ghost looked like. It was a woman who seemed of Asian descent with short black hair.
Floating at Wesker's eye level she expectantly waited for his reply, "And what, may I ask, makes you the ghost for the job?"
"I'm the ghost of Christmas past. I'm sure you can guess what I'm here to do."
Wesker stood upfrom the bed with his gun firmly in his hand. "And if I choose to not listen to you?"
"You'll simply suffer in damnation strangled by the chains of your sins in the deepest pits in hell," The ghost responded amusingly, "but at least give me a chance. It's not like you'll be able to fall back asleep before the next ghost comes anyway."
Wesker stared into the ghosts eyes searching for an ulterior motive, but found none. Not only that, but she did have a fair point. At the very least something amusing might happen if he went along with the ghost's silly story.
"Fine, but don't expect me to get a bleeding heart with one conversation."
The ghost laughed before forcefully grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the door she just came in through, "who's aid anything about a conversation?" She laughed. "This is a hands on approach." The door flung open relighting the room. When the two reached it the ghost gave him a hard push and in shock he fell through the door as if there was no floor to stand on.
After a small falling sensation Wesker fell directly into the ground. Expecting the fall he had no time to brace and fell fully into the snow. The usual harsh winter weather feeling like room temperature eventhough he was shirtless and in only pajama pants.
"Nice landing, Wesker," the ghost floated down calmly.
Glaring up at the ghost as he got his his feet he realized he had moved to a whole different town. The usual city streets of Raccoon City being replaced with thick forests and a single large mansion. "The Wesker House. This place was destroyed after all the other Weskers died. What is this?"
The ghost turned to the large mansion that loomed above them. "This is where you grew up, right? Bring back any fond Christmas memories?"
"Aren't you supposed to tell me the memories? What use are you if I have to think them myself?"
"Fine."
The environment changed around them changing to the inside of the house. Inside there were kids sitting along in chairs and on the staircase. All of them with serious faces and seemingly studying.
"Do you know anyone here?" The ghost looked over at him.
"Obviously."
"What about him?" The ghost pointed over to an ajar door that led to what seemed to be an office. Inside a small boy with blonde hair sat inside talking with a man. The kid could barely be ten, but anyone could tell that it was him. That small boy was the same Wesker who was ten in 1970.
"I'm sure you can guess who that is. It's fairly clear who it is."
The ghost turned to him with a small pout, "You're no fun. You know that right?" Sighing, she once again grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the door. "If you wanna learn anything. Listen."
Poking a head in and looking around Wesker immediately remembered the conversation.
"You're the brightest kid we have here Albert. Of all the things you've chosen to do you decided to waste your own time on frivolities. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Mr. Wesker had his arms crossed and leaned against the front of his desk. In contrast, Albert had his head down without meeting his eye.
"I was just trying to be nice, sir. All the books in the library said that's what I should do this time of year," the sadness in the kids voice was clear to Wesker's ears. He could vaguely remember the feeling too.
"In what way was that nice? By wasting all the other children's time? Spreading these ridiculous stories about Santa Clause of all things. You should be studying not daydreaming. You have a test the Saturday, no? I don't want to see you out of your room until then. Be lucky this is your first time in my office or things would have been a lot worse for you," the man lectured.
Weser turned around immediately and made his way to the door. "Let me out. I've seen enough. You've made your point."
The ghost caught up from behind him and looked at him. "Already? Well that was fast. But, I really do have to be sure you're ready for the next ghost. Poor thing might cry if you're mean to him."
Again he world changed around them. This time once again the city streets were around them. In front of him sat Racoon Park and instantly his stomach dropped. The sense of dread he felt was incomparable to anything since this very day he had come back to.
"You can't be serious," he said sharply and turned to look at the ghost.
"What? Did something important happen on this day? Care to share?"
Walking away from her and towards where he knew she wanted him to be Wesker couldn't help but remember everything. No matter how much he wanted to turn away and bury his head in the sand he knew the quicker he got this over with the quicker he could go home.
"Another year goes by with no wedding, right, Albert?" The words tore through his chest and gripped his heart.
"Is that your dear secretary, Wesker? I'm sure there was no nepotism involved that got them that job," the ghost said.
"I told you before. My research has been keeping me more busy than usual. We'll be married when I can give you more of my time," a younger Wesker about 35 years old stood beside a person on the park bench. There was no one else in sight on this particular Christmas Eve.
"I'm getting a sense of deja vu. Isn't that what you said last year too? And the year before that?" The person smiled sadly up at the younger Wesker.
"Because things haven't changed, and with me being the main researcher things have been taking longer," the younger Wesker answered them and sat down beside them on the bench.
"Nothings changed, huh? Something has changed, Albert. You have. You don't love me anymore. Do you? The love is gone from your eyes, Albert. There's no need to keep up this charade. You married your work before me. I will always be your friend, but I can't be waiting for love I won't get. Goodbye, Albert. I'll keep in touch."
They walked away leaving Wesker alone on the bench. The younger sat in shock unable to voice anything.
The older Wesker on the other hand turned furiously to the ghost," What do you gain from showing me this?! How will showing me these Christmases of all the others change how I view them?! You've only reminded me how terrible the whole damn holiday is!"
"Who said anything about making you like Christmas," the ghost smoothly said, "I'm here to make you stop being an asshole. To make you see that you are what is ruining your life. Maybe you were influenced as a kid to be a dick to everyone, but there is no excuses for an adult!" The ghost shouted in his face.
A wave of dizziness passed over him all at once. Closing the eyes to relieve the pain he felt a sense of vertigo before opening his eyes once again. When he did he was back in his bedroom. All the lights out in the room leaving it dark as if he just woke up.
The sound of pots and pans rattling with the sound of someone singing Christmas songs could be heard downstairs in his kitchen. Rolling his eyes Wesker decided to go and see what the next ghost wanted from him.
Walking into the kitchen he was surrounded with the smells of a huge Christmas feast. An inhuman sized turkey laid on his dining table stuffed between other festive dishes. At the head of the table was a young man in Christmas robs with blonde hair and blue eyes. His singing of carols could be labeled mediocre at best but he still belted the lyrics to his fullest.
When the ghost opened his eyes he let out a pathetic squeak and dropped a turkey leg he was using as a conducting baton. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Past was done with you already," he sheepishly said, "I'm the ghost of Christmas present. Nice to meet you!" As Wesker looked over the ghost who seemed more like a twink than an omniscient being he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
~~~~~~~~
@aoi-targaryen
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kingofspadescos · 1 year
Text
Xavier Thorpe x Reader
Drawn to You
You sighed, head dropping onto your open palm as you stared down at the empty music sheet. You were supposed to be writing Wednesday some new Cello music but couldn't quite get started. "God Dammit!" You called out to no one, throwing yourself backward in your chair.
"What should I damn?" Came a monotone voice.
Your eyes shot upwards to lock eyes with your sister, Wednesday. Quickly turning around you stood up "I'm trying to write your cello music, but I can't get anything down" you complained, causing your sister to sigh.
"Leave that be, for now, I have more information on our murder case," Wednesday said, "your...love interest might be our suspect."
You scowled "do tell who this 'love interest' is" you sneered, while Wednesday simply deadpanned. "Xavier" she replied, "I see the way you stare at him."
You scoffed but your cheeks turned a shade of pink "Right" you rolled your eyes "maybe stop obsessing over this monster? Take a break? Isn't that Rave'N dance coming up?"
Now Wednesday let out a small scoff "I don't need breaks, I need answers. I will solve this" she insisted shouldering her bag "I'm checking out something, I'll be back later."
You nodded waving her off and turning back to stare at the blank staff that stared right back as if to taunt you. You hummed disappointed, fingers drumming on the chipped wood of your desk. As you drummed, your fingers began tapping out a rhythm and you smiled. "Finally" you murmured, picking up your pen.
~ Time skip ~
You smiled brightly down at the full pages of music you had been able to finish. It was a counter melody to Wednesday's already written cello music and you were so proud of it. Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked through the forest. Enid had said Wednesday had gone out to question someone and you had automatically known where she was. As you came to your destination two familiar figures appeared and your smile widened. However, just as you were about to call out to them, words that you had hoped to ask shattered your mood.
"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" Wednesday asked, eyes blankly staring at Xavier.
Your eyes went wide and your grip on the music tightened, creasing the paper. Taking a deep breath, you crossed the remaining distance. "I finished the music," you said, refusing to make eye contact with either Xavier or Wednesday.
Unbeknownst to you, Xavier had his eyes trained on you, his mouth slightly open in shock that you were there. His heart sped up and he swore that if it got any louder you would be able to hear it. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" He asked, relieved that he was able to keep his voice even.
You cringed "handing off the music. You two, uh- have fun," you said, eyes skipping around the landscape not daring to even look at him.
Wednesday stared at you, taking the sheet music without saying anything, just a blank stare.
A couple more awkward seconds later and you were booking it back down the path you came from. Desperately trying to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay. Your thoughts were too loud to hear a voice calling after you.
~ Time Skip ~
It was the day of the dance and you were miserable. You tried to convince yourself that you were okay and shouldn't be so worked up but it didn't work out that well. In hopes to clear your head, you had gone out for a walk, outside of the school.
As you walked you heard footsteps accelerating behind you. Out of instinct, you turned around your pocket knife in hand, holding it to the person's throat. To your surprise, you were face to face with Xavier who had his hands up in defense.
"Woah there, I thought Wednesday was the only one who liked sharp objects," he said, trying to joke around. You however just rolled your eyes, sliding the knife back into your pocket "self-defense comes in handy at my house" you replied.
Xavier gulped and nodded putting his hands down "oh- right" he muttered, "but that's not the point I wanted to show you something." You scoffed at this "why? Aren't you supposed to be with Wednesday? At the dance?" You questioned, crossing your arms.
He sighed "look, just come with me okay? I'll make it worth your while" he promised, holding out his hand for you to take. You glanced from his outstretched hand to his eyes back to his hand before sighing and taking his hand "fine."
Xavier smiled before he began pulling you to the woods. Neither of you said anything as he lead you down a familiar path, to a recognizable building. He tugged you inside, and your eyes were quick to dart around the room that was covered wall to wall with drawings.
You were amazed, most of the images were simply in black yet there was so much attention to detail, it took your breath away. Xavier smiled at your reaction, walking over to a covered-up drawing "don't freak out okay?" He said.
You nodded and with that he took the tarp off with one fluid motion, revealing a large drawing of yourself writing music. Your eyes widened walking over, your fingers delicately tracing over the ink, before your attention was brought to Xavier.
"You drew this? Why? How? When?" You questioned.
Xavier shoved his hands in his pockets, head bowed with a sheepish grin "I've had visions of you and it helps to think through my thoughts by drawing them" he tried to explain "me and Wednesday we didn't- nothing happened between us. I refused her offer to the dance, I wanted someone else to ask me."
Your breathing hitched as he took a step closer to you "who?" You asked your voice barely above a whisper.
"You" Came his reply "it's always been you."
His hand reached up to cup your face and you allowed yourself to relax into the touch.
Xavier's smile turned into a smirk as his eyes flickered to the drawing "guess you could say I'm drawn to you"
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butmakeitgayblog · 9 months
Note
Loving all the #awtr synopses! Thank you for indulging us 🥰 Would you be able to share one of the 365 letters that Lexa wrote to Clarke in the care package? Maybe one of those letters that Clarke return to over and over again?
You are a glutton for punishment
I like you 😈
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Dearest,
Each letter I start feels so awkward in the beginning. As though the blank page itself were mocking me. All bumbling sentences and half-formed thoughts vying for my attention, because how does one get to the point when there's so many things between us left to say? A lifetime worth of words live on the point of this pen, all yearning and jumbled in their haste to be written first. Each one wanting nothing more than to jump right into the thick of it; into the thick of being part of a lifetime with you.
And yet here I sit, struggling with exactly where to start.
I suppose I could begin with the most mundane part of this idea: the actual point of this letter. Forcing myself to tackle the 'why' of the whole reason you picked this one in particular sounds like the smart move here... Assuming, of course, you didn't tear through them all the first second you got... *wifely sigh* If that is the case, don't feel too bad. Your lack of patience is, bafflingly, one of the many things I love so fiercely about you.
You're 30 today.
30!
My wife is 30. I love hearing how that sounds. The thought alone makes my heart skip a beat. (In a decidedly joyous way, I assure you, as it so often does whenever you wander yourself across my mind.) You're 30 now. An honest God adult in every measure, and truthfully that blows my mind because I still vividly remember seeing you for the first time when we were only children. It was drizzling and you'd crashed into me on the playground while running, and I—
Well, you've heard this story enough times before, but my point remains.
You're sleeping peacefully as I write this. Safe and warm in my bed. Tucked to me so tight I can barely hold the pen well enough to get these words out, and yet all I can envision when I look over and see the youth of your face is who you will be when this letter reaches you.
Know, in every version of 'you' my brain tirelessly cooks up, you are as beautiful then as you are right now. If not more so.
I envision that same smile, with those lips that sweeten my dreams, nestled in the crest of newly discovered laugh lines. I see the kindness of your eyes in every universe, my love. The way those same stubborn and fierce blues that take my breath away hold a depth of wisdom far beyond your (30!!) years. You told me once how you hated your beauty mark as a kid, but my goodness, the things I do to wrap my lips around it. Believe it or not, I secretly have impeccable aim. Stop laughing, I do. It's just too tempting. I can't even begin to resist. And your chin! Your wonderul chin, that was surely made to hold my thumb so perfectly each time I kiss you. I imagine it's somewhat sharper now. More refined. More dignified.
Tell me, love. Does it hold another's thumb now?
It should. It deserves to be cherished.
I find myself so often in these quiet moments before sleep thinking of who you are - who you will be - at these stages of your life. And while I know in my heart I'll be right there with you when these times come, smiling and cheering you on along the way, for now, I am left woefully guessing.
I write this all to say: I hope you are happy. I hope you have a life filled with more love than you know what to do with. I hope it makes you feel even a tenth as timeless as your love made me feel. Being loved by you is a miraculous thing in that way.
It's funny, as I've written these letters, I already feel as though I've lived an entire lifetime with you. And even then, it's still not enough. In the earlier ones I worried so much, as I'm sure you remember (again, that's assuming you actually followed the directions for a change and didn't binge them all at once), but I find myself writing this one in particular entirely calm. Make no mistake, I still feel the urge to dote on you. To fuss at you as I do with questions of 'have you drank enough today? Eaten enough? Take a nap with me, dear. You never seem to get enough sleep.' I will always worry about these things no matter where we are in the universe. But understand, love, it's only because I wish to take care of you.
Not that you need it. You've never needed me to take care of you, but I'm so very grateful you let me try all the same.
You're gonna do great things, Griffin. I already know it, but for posterity's sake, I'll write it just to have one final 'told ya so' moment with you. I hope your life is so damn big now that you look back on the walls of this room that held our love in its sanctuary, and it impresses you how we managed to fit the both of us in here along with it. I hope with each dream you accomplish, it's replaced only by what great thing comes next for you. Because while the world is cold and terrifying and beats us down in so many ways, I know you, my darling girl. I know you're the one who can always best it.
I love you, Clarke. I've loved you since before I knew I could have you, and I'm going to love you long after I'm gone. I hope I made you know that in the time we had together, well enough to last this lifetime and into the next. I'll be here, love. Patiently waiting for you to crash into me again.
Wherever you are in this moment, know that I am so proud of the woman you've become. I want you to spend every last second of today celebrating the wonderful, stubborn, charming, passionate, fearless, tender person you are.
Don't ever let that fire inside of you die. I couldn't bear it. The world needs more people like you.
Lord knows I sure did.
Thank you for teaching me what selfless love is. Loving you made me a better person. And I'd like to think I played at least a little part in helping you become who you are too. So celebrate today. And every single day after. I mean it. You deserve it.
Until we meet again,
- Lexa
P.s. Have a whiskey sour for me 🖤
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blossom-hwa · 9 months
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I would like to request for the summertime drabble university au Philosophy student taehyun x TA gn reader.
thank you for the request! I hope you don't mind me making the reader TA the class after they both took it together - I didn't feel completely comfortable writing a relationship between a TA and student currently taking the class? regardless, thanks again for the request and I hope you like this!
also sorry if the philosophy major portrayal was off lmao I've only taken one philosophy-adjacent class at uni so far and I did not like it...LOL I don't remember anything from Nicomachean Ethics but I do know it nearly made me die
summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!
REQUESTS OPEN!!
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Title: Physics, Philosophy
Pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader
Word count: 1.2k
Genre: fluff, university!au
Warnings: cursing
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"If you keep sitting in on my office hours like this, I'm going to start making you grade shit too."
Taehyun barely looks up from the book he's flipping through, though the little smile on his lips tells you he definitely heard. "I think that would be a breach of the academic code of conduct. Only TAs are supposed to be the ones reading the papers."
You groan, collapsing into a nearby chair in the classroom. "I know," you say, eyeing the pile of essays on the table in front of you with distaste. "But everyone who comes to my office hours already knows you, you’re always here. And you already answer all the questions as well as I do. You should be able to help me grade."
"Not true." He flips a page of his book. Nicomachean Ethics, you read on the cover, and immediately you pull a face. Before you can make a jab at his choice of entertainment, though, he continues. "You're the actual physics major. You know much more about that side than I do, and we both know this course focuses more on the physics than the philosophy."
He's right. Which he usually is, though you don't always like to admit it. You'd only taken this class, Intersections Between Physics and Philosophy, to fulfill the humanities requirement for your graduation—otherwise, your STEM-focused self probably never would have given it a second glance. To your relief, it was as your peers had said—more focused on physics, a little less on philosophy. 
It didn't stop Taehyun, the actual philosophy major (and physics minor, to your chagrin), from acing the class too, however. 
"Says the physics minor, philosophy major." You roll your eyes, but it doesn't carry any bite anymore—you've long gotten past your jealousy at the seeming effortlessness with which Taehyun does everything. "Why are you reading that? Is it for a class?" 
"Yeah, but it's pretty interesting." He finally looks up from the book, and you can see from his eyes that he's actually telling the truth. You don't bother to disguise the half disgust, half fondness that crosses your face, mostly because you know it'll make him smile. "Hey, don't look at me like that."
"You'd be more convincing if you weren't smiling right now," you point out, finally taking one of the stapled essays from the top of the stack on the table. "Three guesses on when the first student asks when we'll finish grading, even though we already posted it on the discussion board."
That actually pulls a laugh out of Taehyun. "Mm, before we get dinner tonight."
"Such a pessimist." You smack his arm with the paper. "Cut them some slack. I give it until Tuesday."
"Optimist." Taehyun scrunches up his nose. "Three guesses on when you'll actually finish grading one of those."
"Hey!" You hit him again as he snickers. "You're the one distracting me!"
"I'm just sitting here!" Taehyun puts his hands up, and you really can't even pretend to be mad at him, not when he looks like this—all impish and mischievous and sweet. "You're using me to distract yourself."
And yet again, he's right. You look at the paper in your hands, then at the stack still lying on the table. Actual despair forces your shoulders to slump as you think of all the reading you'll have to do tonight before and after dinner with Taehyun. Not just paper grading, but also the textbook chapters for your own courses, the notes for the actual physics class you're also TAing. It would be nice to just have one day, you think—one day, for fuck's sake, where you can enjoy your time with him without having to think about all the stuff you have to do before and after. 
"Hey." Taehyun's voice stops you from spiraling further. You glance up as he pulls his chair right next to you, placing Nicomachean Ethics on the table to take your hand instead. "You good?"
Half a smile tilts your lips as you look down at your linked fingers. It's not hard to remember how, for all your initial envy and annoyance at his seeming perfection, you let him in to become a friend, then a boyfriend. Because he's perfect, really. For you. He took the time to learn how to notice when you're thinking too much, when you're overwhelmed. He encouraged you to tell him what you need in these moments, and gave you his vulnerability in exchange for you. 
"Overwhelmed, I guess." You wave the paper in your other hand around halfheartedly. "Kind of scared that when we get back from dinner, I'm going to just freeze. And I won't be able to do any of the stuff I need to do."
Taehyun hums. "Library study date then? After dinner? In one of the quiet rooms, so we can focus."
You sigh a little, and the half smile turns into a full one when you look at him. You're always more productive in the library, especially when it's quiet, but you hate going by yourself. So it always helps when Taehyun comes with you as a quiet sort of boost to your energy. "Stop knowing what I need before I know it myself," you complain, but there's nothing behind it.
"I could say the same for you," he replies, squeezing your hand playfully. "You're the one who brings me coffee every morning we see each other even when I don't think I need it."
"It doesn't take a genius to know you're addicted to your daily cup of caramel flavored death," you snark. And when Taehyun scowls and pinches your wrist lightly in retaliation, you marvel at how easy it is to laugh in his presence—how easy it is to relax, to let go, to push aside your worries for just a moment to smile with him. 
Taehyun sniffs, breaking through your thoughts. "Just for that, you have to grade five of these before we go to dinner," he says, eyes glinting. "Don't complain, you'll thank me—and yourself—later."
He's right. Again. It used to piss you off and it still does, sometimes, but right now you agree even though you don't want to. "Fine," you say, because getting five of these done now means you'll only have to grade five more tonight to keep with the grading schedule. "But if I'm grumpy later, it's your fault."
"Even if you are, it won't be for long." Taehyun grins. "Not with me and my sparkling presence around, at least."
"Tch." For all your efforts, you can't stop a matching smile from spreading over your own lips, so you just hit him with the paper again. "Stop being right, it's incredibly annoying."
Taehyun picks up his own book threateningly. "Not as annoying as I'll be if you keep putting off your grading—"
You yelp and shove your chair away from the menacing pages of Nicomachean Ethics waving about in the air. "God, okay, I'll finish them!" you laugh, picking up four more essays. "Just don't distract me.
Taehyun laughs with you, and the sound sends warm tingles all up your skin as you sit back down. "I would never."
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moefling · 5 months
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Thoughts after reading Carry On. I will be rereading Wayward Son next (and AWTWB after). I'm making this list after finishing the book so some of these thoughts were in my head the entire reread and some are from annotations on my Kindle was I went. (Also this is my second read the first time I read it on audiobook)
I forgot that Simon was defiantly a troublemaker and pretty ruff and tumble even before he found out about The World of Mages
F*CK THE MAGE, but also he does have a good point about allowing other creatures and low power mages into Watford
Miss Possibelf is "not exactly human" (page 95)
Lucy was defiantly in an abusive relationship and she was still defending Davy after death. i also don't really think Davy loved her :/ at least not like she wanted
i don't think that Simon every really thought he had a future. like he kinda figured between the Humdrum and the old families we wouldn't live to have a future and before the World of Mages he was a kid in care who was always getting into trouble
its pretty sad that the Kids where very aware they were gonna have to fight to the death and they really didn't want it and none of the Adults were willing to comment on it (i think Matali makes a quick comment later in ATWB)
Simons wand didn't not work because it wasn't blood related to him
Fiona had a normal job lined up before Natasha died (pg 173)
i have a half baked idea that the reason Simon can share his magic with Baz is because he is a Vampire, like the Humdrum can "give" magic to creatures so Simon can too
i was figuring out the age gap between the two adult groups (Lucy vs Ebb) and had it narrowed down to basically the same age when Martin straight up said he was a few years older than them...
Lucy was in the cottage with Davy for around 2 years ish before she got pregnant
"It was just flirting, it's not like I tried to feed her to a chimera." (page 277)
Baz sucks his fangs when he's thinking (page 330)
"I can't believe you're asking me this, Snow. You, who can't walk away from half a sandwich." (page 429)
"I can't believe there's a part of your body that grows when you need it." (page 391) i'm pretty sure this was supposed to sound spicy but i laughed either way
when Baz tells Simon to run after the Humdrum comes to the Pitch estate i think i cried, reading it the second time i know Baz isn't really blaming Simon but i remember the first time i read it i though Baz really though Simon did it
"Maybe it's not a spell, Maybe he transformed" (pg 426) i think that this is saying more than we give it credit for - another half baked idea that Simon is like half imp/ demon/ elemental (i think we all like the dragon idea but i'm realizing CO really wonders about the tail and how it isn't a dragon tail)
when Simon kills the mage previously i though it was because the mage couldn't stop physically hurting Simon but i think it probably had more to do with the emotional damage (i'm sure some of it was physical but...)
when reading fanfic i also realized that CO doesn't actually say Lucy's brothers name (Jamie) or most of Baz's siblings names
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blazehedgehog · 11 months
Text
Once again thinking about how advertising shifted from a small group of selected individuals who would rate, approve, and distribute a limited number advertisements on TV, radio and in print and how the modern "anyone can make an advertisement for anything and put it anywhere" completely destroyed the market.
In theory advertisements aren't bad. I mean there are still a great number of people who loudly and proudly declare they only watch the Super Bowl because marketing agencies spend big bucks on funny, interesting advertisements. There were scenarios where advertisements were acceptable and even enjoyable!
But not anymore. Since a person can register for Google Adsense and slap as many ads on a thing as they want to, the more desperate and sleazy among us decided to fill entire pages with ads. The value of a single advertisement bottomed out, as instead of guaranteeing a viewer's undivided attention, websites started being lit up like the Las Vegas strip. Memorable ads suddenly matter less than whatever's the most simple and flashy.
The side effect, the thing that I'm actually thinking about today, is how little advertising matters to me now. The only ads that ever actually command a single iota of my attention are the most annoying things: websites with "sign up for our mailing list!" pop-ups, or when I go dumpster diving on my Roku and find a streaming app that plays ads every 90 seconds, or when a news website is covered in "SUBSCRIBE TO OUR PREMIUM SERVICE" banners in every corner (or limits how much you can read before paying).
The only ads I remember are the ones that feel like a punishment.
To the point where, on a website that actually tries to show an acceptable number of advertisements, my brain has been automatically trained to ignore them. I don't even see them. I was using the tumblr app five minutes ago on my phone and I can't tell you what the ads were. I salted the earth for those neurons in my brain. That kind of mental spite is a reflex for me now. The rest of the internet has made me so resistant to all forms of the most annoying, forceful, attention-grabbing advertising that it will probably never work on me ever again for as long as I live.
But I can still recite the Toys'R'Us song by heart. It's been more than twenty years since its debut and people still remember the McDonalds "I'm Lovin' It" jingle.
...Actually, I'm so inoculated to modern advertising I had to double check whether or not McDonalds even still uses "I'm Lovin' It" because I cannot remember having seen a McDonalds advertisement in a very long time.
I suppose my ultimate point in all of this is never feel obligated to watch ads. Never feel guilty for using an adblocker. When that website says "We noticed you're blocking our ads, please turn it off" there is no law that says you have to (if they try to force you, a quick google search will probably solve that).
Always remember you are the victim of their circumstance, not the other way around.
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