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#the ability to change the future but with a twist
genericpuff · 3 days
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Since you have mentioned your own original webcomic has time travel, do you have any advice for people who want to make comics or simply write stories that deal with time travel?
Could be any kind of time travel, like time loops, characters traveling to the past/future, dealing with paradoxes, etc.
Short answer: don't LOL
Long answer: Obviously if you wanna tackle time travel, go for it, but the first and most important rule of any time travel is to establish your rules. How does the time travel work? And how will you commit to consistency?
Some basic time travel rule structures include:
Clone travelling - This is the most common form of time travel that's used the most. When you go back in time, your past self is present alongside your present self. Examples include Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Doctor Who, and Austin Powers.
Singular consciousness travelling - This is one I've only seen used a couple of times, and the only one I can think of off the top of my head is Life is Strange, but what I like to call 'singular consciousness travelling' is the form of time travel where instead of travelling to a point in the past, you return to a version of your past self, fully aware of the future that awaits you but 'stuck' within that past to live out the timeline in real time again. Though it's not as commonly used, it's one that will typically present less paradoxes as there are less moving parts to worry about. Prophecy storylines also use a similar philosophy to this, albeit without the literal time travel and more so 'time travel' via premonition (could we call Raven from That's So Raven a time traveller?)
Loops - This is a form of time travelling seen in media such as Groundhog Day, where a person continuously travels back to the same point in time over and over again to relive the same events until they can somehow break the loop.
There are loads more of time travel structures I could go over, but those are three of the most basic. Regardless of which structure you use, you have to be willing to commit to it. It's like choosing a writing perspective and tense, if you choose third person past tense ("he said, she said, they said"), then suddenly switching to first person present tense ("I say", "I do", "I feel") without any context to establish that switch will be jarring. Make your rules, and if you have to break them, make sure they're broken for the sake of the story (ex. if you present some sort of plot twist to reveal the 'true nature' of the time travelling plotline).
Here's a great video that goes over some different time travel plotlines from movies/books/etc.:
youtube
As for my original comic, we go for the time travel = multiverse theory approach, where any changes made to a timeline in a past state will not change that timeline's future, but rather, create a new timeline where those past changes are true and written into the script, essentially relegating every single new timeline to a parallel universe. This is essentially how it's done in Avengers: Endgame , but instead of characters abusing the laws of quantum physics to travel back in time, it's characters abusing a magical book of diary entries that are primarily used by the main character to help him control and guide his time travelling abilities. Every diary entry essentially serves as a roadmap for him to find his way back to his home timeline from which he disappears every time he jumps. Much of the story is written entirely atop a paradox, specifically the bootstrap paradox:
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(because if there are gonna be paradoxes no matter what you do, may as well have fun with them!)
There's a lot more I could go into regarding that, but for the sake of sparing the handful of Time Gate readers here of spoilers, Time Gate's laws of time travel dictate that you can't really change your past, just the future for other versions of you that you create when you try to change things.
All that said, I will say that in most cases, thinking too hard about any time travel story will cause it to fall apart, because time travel is a fictional trope that relies a lot on logical sequencing of events to work. So you kind of do just have to 'let it go' and have fun with it - but having rules to stick to will make things less of a headache for everyone, especially when it comes to telling a coherent story. Even my own criticisms of LO's time travel really don't matter in the end, because LO's problems go far deeper than some cheaply-made time travel and any of the time travel problems in the story will undoubtedly be explained away as "timey wimey shit". I'll still be pissed about it, but time travel isn't real (at least not for you) so it's not worth getting too bogged down by. Just do your best to tell an entertaining and coherent story.
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pinchofhoney · 5 months
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Hi, could you write something for Coryo x reader were the reader is close if not equally as evil in the end. How would that relationship work? idk just a thought I had use it if you wish
crack in the mirror
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: i think none
summary: Many cling to the belief of their own goodness, until they meet someone who's just like them.
a/n: hii, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you'll enjoy what i've written for you!<33
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @watercolorskyy
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
How did it all begin?
With the 10th Hunger Games, where your academic excellence earned you the role of mentor to one of the tributes.
It was a time of innocence and youthful ambition, back when your paths met within the shadowy corridors of the Capitol's Academy. You and Coriolanus were close friends, unstained by the cruelty that life had in store for you and you pretty often looked back on those days, memories of laughter, shared dreams, and an unwavering friendship etched in your mind.
The two of you were bound by a shared ambition, shining among the brightest stars, each destined for greatness in the eyes of those who believed in you. The world was your playground, and you were determined to conquer it. Little did you know how that fateful year, with its trials and tribulations, would set the course of your life on a much darker path.
As the mentor to Treech from District 7, you hadn't yet embraced the darkness that would soon consume you. Back then, you were as eager as your colleagues, hoping to prove your worth, do your best, and guide your tribute to victory. It was pretty cruel twist of fate that Lucy Gray Baird, with her haunting charm and cunning nature, would change the course of everything.
In the heart of those unforgettable 10th Hunger Games, within the unforgiving arena, your dreams and aspirations slowly began to twist and corrode. Ambition transformed into ruthless manipulation, friendship into subtle deception, and innocence into a devouring thirst for power. The venomous snake mutt that took Treech's life before your very eyes became a symbol of the ruthless transformation that was gradually overtaking you.
That year marked the beginning of your involvement in the Games and the emergence of a darkness that would one day reflect the very core of President Snow himself. The metropolis watched, captivated by the spectacle of the tributes battling for their lives, while behind the scenes, a bitter change took root.
As you stood alongside the other students in the viewing room, preoccupied with the tributes, a chill ran down your spine. You didn't yet grasped the feeling, but something fundamental had shifted within you. You couldn't shake the realization that in the Capitol, victory meant survival, and survival allowed for anything. Lucy Gray's actions, no matter how brutal, were merely a reflection of the society to which you belonged.
Coriolanus tried to hold onto the purity of your friendship, to keep the darkness at bay, but you were the values he progressively ignored. Ambition has a way of distorting even the best intentions, and the path you had chosen was covered in shadows and secrecy.
As the Games progressed, the transformation hastened. The bonds you had formed with others became instruments of manipulation, and you enjoyed your newfound ability to bend their will to your desires.
The suffering of each tribute, each extinguished life, stoked the icy flames of ambition within you. You clutched to the logic that to climb up the Capitol's hierarchy, you had to be willing to destroy all who stood in the way. Your heart grew cold, your smile more deceitful, and your soul darkened, much like the future President of Panem that Coriolanus didn't yet realize he would become.
The Games ended with Treech taking the third place, a result you considered an absolute failure. It served as the catalyst for your final descent into the abyss. You had only tasted a little bit of success, and you hungered for more. The purity of your friendship with Coriolanus had been definitely tarnished, and the darkness that enveloped you continued.
The 10th Hunger Games and the Gamemakers marked not just the beginning of a change within you, but also foreshadowed the dark days to come.
You and Coriolanus would be leaders of a world where cruelty and manipulation held authority.
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You had come a long way since those innocent days at the Academy, where laughter and shared dreams were the currency of friendship. As the Head Gamemaker, you wielded power over life and death, orchestrating the annual Hunger Games spectacle that captivated the Capitol.
Your importance in the Capitol was undeniable, but the bonds of friendship that once connected you to young Snow had weakened, stretched to their limits, and threatened to break. Since your graduation from the Academy, the warmth of your interactions had been replaced by a chilling formality. The echoes of your former closeness had grown faint, drowned out by the sounds of the ruthless Games you helped design.
Coriolanus, still crawling in his presidency, remained in your life as a hint of your teenage years and shared mentorship past. He was both intrigued and disturbed by the ideas you injected into the Games each year, but he never consciously acknowledged the rot that had taken root within him as well.
As the Head Gamemaker, you reveled in the dark art of power, where tributes became pawns and suffering was blend into the very fabric of the arena. Your ambitions had propelled you to the highest echelons of Capitol society, but the biggest cost had been the destruction of the humanity that once defined you.
Determined, you made your way to the meeting room, eager to introduce Coriolanus to your plan for the 23rd Hunger Games.
He was already there, wearing an expression that mixed curiosity with apprehension. You greeted him with a cool nod, fully aware of how your interactions had grown more formal over the years.
“Coryo,” you began, saying the familiar diminutive you'd used back at the Academy. The warmth of that old friendship may have cooled, but the nickname had grown in you, a habit you couldn't shake when you were alone with him. “I've prepared something truly phenomenal for this year's Games. Something that will cause goosebumps on the skin of every viewer, let alone the tributes in the arena,” you said, locking your gaze with your old friend with a mysterious smirk on your lips.
In response, Coriolanus leaned in with growing curiosity. “Please, continue,” he urged, which only caused a wider smile on your face.
You gestured toward a holographic projection on the wall, revealing a sinister, genetically created creature. Its elongated limbs, razor-sharp claws, and grotesque, misshapen features created a nightmarish creation.
“This,” you declared, “is the Umbra Noctis. It's a creature designed to terrify and torture the tributes in ways they could never have imagined. With its ability to blend into the shadows, it will stalk them relentlessly, striking fear into their hearts.”
Coriolanus observed the creature, a mixture of fascination and consternation in his eyes, narrowing the gap between you. “But how does it differ from the mutts we've used before?”
You leaned in, your voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “It carries a venom that induces hallucinations, distorting reality for its victims. The terror it inflicts will be as much psychological as it is physical.”
As you detailed your plan, the room seemed to grow colder, and the weight of your shared darkness pressed on Coriolanus. You described the various mutants and horrors destined for the arena, all designed to heighten the tributes' fear and despair.
“I want the 23rd Hunger Games to be remembered as the most nightmarish ever,” you declared. “A spectacle that reveals the true depths of human darkness, concealed behind the Capitol's glittering facade.”
As the weight of your words settled in the room, Coriolanus’ initial curiosity gave way to a growing skepticism. He couldn't help but question the depths of darkness you were willing to immerse.
“Isn't this,” Coriolanus began, his voice cautious, “perhaps too much, even for the Hunger Games? We want to entertain, to captivate the audience, not to... terrify to the point of despair.”
You turned to him, your gaze firm, and for a moment, the professional mask slipped, revealing the abyss beneath. “Coryo, don't you see? The Capitol's fascination with the Games is not just about entertainment. It's about the harsh reality that we, as a society, have become as ruthless and depraved as the Games themselves. We are a reflection of the horrors we create.”
Coriolanus eyed you, his features a blend of recognition and disquiet. Your words had hit the spot, reminding him that he, too, played a role in Panem's transformation as its president.
You continued, your voice now nearly a whisper, “The darkness, Coryo, is not just within the arena but within us. The Games merely show what has always been there. It's a reflection of who we've become, and it's time we faced that truth.”
For a brief moment, Coriolanus seemed to confront his own rottenness, an unsettling truth that had long been concealed in the shadows of his conscience and the room fell silent.
With measured steps, you circled around Coriolanus, stopping in front of him. You met his calm gaze, finding in it the shadow of chaos, reflecting his soul.
Your eyes wandered over his attire, and with a calculated, gentle touch, you adjusted the rose on his chest before gracing him with a faint smile.
“Look at you,” you began, taking a step back, creating a clear distance between you. “Remember when you used to fear Dr. Gaul? And now, what have you become?” your next question followed swiftly, with no pause for his response.
“You're the man who sends innocent kids to their deaths every year, a cruel reminder to the districts of who hold the power, who is in control. And I? I'm just one of the instruments in your hands.”
Your words hung in the air, and as Coriolanus opened his mouth to respond, you silenced him with an unspoken urgency. “You might tell yourself that you can sleep soundly, shifting the responsibility onto me and my team, washing your hands clean of the blood. But deep down, you know it's a lie, don't you?”
Coriolanus met your gaze, a blend of defiance and self-denial in his eyes. He had always been skilled at pushing the truth aside, shielding himself from the reality he had become.
“You're mistaken,” he finally said, his voice tensed. “I have a duty to maintain order, to ensure the Capitol's dominance. The Games are a means to an end, a necessary evil.”
Your expression remained unwavering as you countered, “But do you truly believe that, Coryo? Do you truly believe it's as simple as maintaining order? The depths of cruelty we've reached, the horrors we've unleashed, they go beyond mere necessity.”
He opened his mouth to respond, to argue his case further, but a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes, betraying the internal struggle within. The truth you had spoken, the darkness he had tried to repress, clawed at the edges of his conscience.
“That's what I thought,” you said with a note of satisfaction in your eyes, and resumed presenting your plan as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Coriolanus' confusion. However, the shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable, and the unspoken tension lingered.
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sas-soulwriter · 6 months
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Twist for your story
Ever wondered why a well-crafted twist is crucial in a story? It's like the element of surprise that keeps you engaged, challenges your expectations, and ultimately makes the narrative memorable. A great twist is the heart of intrigue in storytelling. Here are some you can use!
The Sentient Object: Twist: An ordinary object, like a book, a mirror, or a piece of jewelry, is revealed to be sentient and possesses its own consciousness. It becomes a key player in the story, guiding or manipulating the characters.
The Collective Memory: Twist: A group of characters, seemingly unrelated, share a mysterious collective memory or dream that connects them in unexpected ways. They must work together to decipher the meaning behind these shared experiences.
The Language of Magic: Twist: Magic in your world is governed by a unique language or code. As the story unfolds, characters discover that the language itself is sentient and can influence events and outcomes.
The Eldritch Revelation: Twist: Characters stumble upon ancient texts or artifacts that contain forbidden knowledge about cosmic horrors or eldritch beings. The revelation of this knowledge threatens their sanity and forces them to confront incomprehensible entities.
The Mythical Betrayal: Twist: A character believed to be a mythical hero or savior turns out to be the story's true villain, deceiving everyone around them. The actual hero must rise from obscurity to confront this unexpected antagonist.
The Reverse Time Travel: Twist: Instead of traveling to the past or future, characters unwittingly bring historical or future figures into their present. They must adapt to the challenges and paradoxes this brings, all while trying to return these displaced individuals.
The Living Ecosystem: Twist: The entire world or ecosystem of the story is revealed to be a living, interconnected entity, and the characters' actions have profound consequences on its well-being. They must make choices that protect or harm this sentient world.
The Forgotten Prophecy: Twist: Characters initially believe in a well-known prophecy, only to discover that the true prophecy has been hidden or forgotten, and its revelation drastically changes the course of their journey.
The Inverted Morality: Twist: A society where good is evil and evil is good is introduced, challenging characters' beliefs and forcing them to question their own moral compasses.
The Quantum Reality Shift: Twist: The story shifts between multiple parallel realities or dimensions, and characters must navigate the complexities of these shifting worlds to achieve their goals.
The Manipulative Reader: Twist: It is revealed that a character within the story has the ability to influence the actions and decisions of the other characters, essentially "writing" the story's plot from within.
The Protagonist Swap: Twist: Midway through the story, the perspective switches from the original protagonist to a secondary character, offering a fresh viewpoint and challenging readers' assumptions about the narrative's focus.
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tarotwithavi · 7 months
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Your future spouse: personality
Positive and challenging sides
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How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.
Masterlist
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Pile 1
Positive side : hello pile 1! Your future spouse is one smart cookie. They've got an insatiable curiosity that makes them a total brainiac. You'll often find them diving deep into complex ideas and theories, always hungry for knowledge. They've got this knack for seeing patterns and connections that others don't even notice. When you're stuck on a problem, just turn to them for some mind-blowing insights. Creativity runs through their veins. They've got a knack for coming up with innovative, out-of-the-box ideas. No boring solutions here! They're the kind of person who can turn the simplest of conversations into an exciting adventure of thoughts and possibilities. Their independent spirit is pretty inspiring too. They're comfortable doing their own thing, which gives them a unique sense of self-reliance. Fairness and objectivity are their jams. Emotions don't cloud their judgment; they rely on cool, logical thinking to make decisions. And when it comes to tackling tough problems, they're like Sherlock Holmes with a touch of MacGyver – they'll find a solution, no matter how tricky the puzzle. They seem to have more air energy, especially Gemini and Aquarius. They may have their Mercury in the 11th house.
Challenging side : Okay, so your future spouse might be a bit of an introvert. Social interactions aren't always their strong suit, especially when it comes to small talk. They're more like deep-thought conversations rather than chit-chat about the weather. And speaking of deep thoughts, they tend to overthink stuff. Simple decisions can turn into complicated quandaries in their minds. Practicality isn't their strong suit either. They've got a knack for brilliant ideas, but sometimes turning those ideas into reality can be a bit of a challenge. Routine? Yeah, not their thing. They get bored quickly with repetitive tasks and might struggle with focusing on the same thing for too long. Oh, and sometimes they can be like Mr. Spock – super logical, but not always the most sensitive. Emotions might not be their strong suit, and they might come across as a tad insensitive from time to time. And when they've made up their mind, it's like they've superglued their opinion in place. Changing their perspective? Good luck with that.
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Pile 2
Positive side : welcome pile 2! I'm getting that Your future spouse is the kind of person who's always dreaming big and aiming for the stars. They have this incredible ability to come up with the most creative and imaginative ideas that you've ever heard. Whether it's art, music, or just day-to-day conversations, they infuse everything with their unique touch of creativity. You can count on them to be that empathetic and understanding partner you've always wanted. They really get you, and their genuine care and compassion make you feel truly seen and loved. Their open-mindedness is a breath of fresh air, and you can talk to them about anything without fearing judgment. Their unwavering commitment to their values is truly inspiring; you'll never find them compromising on what they hold dear. And when it comes to those times when you need a friend to lean on, they'll be there, providing unwavering support and a listening ear. Their flexibility and adaptability make navigating life's twists and turns an exciting adventure. They have heavy water energy especially cancer and Pisces. They may have personal planets in 4th, 8th or 12th house.
Challenging side : But, you know, your future spouse does have their moments. Their idealism, as charming as it is, sometimes takes them to places that feel a bit too far from reality. There might be times when their sensitivity comes across as a bit of an overreaction, leaving you wondering how to tread carefully. They're not the biggest fans of confrontation, which can be a good thing most of the time, but it also means that addressing certain issues directly might not be their strong suit. Oh, and the decision-making process? Well, let's just say it's not the quickest. Sometimes you'll be caught in a loop of considering pros and cons, which can be a tad frustrating when you just want a clear answer. And criticism? Yeah, that's a tough one. Your future spouse might struggle a bit with handling negative feedback; it's like they take it to heart a bit too much. There could be moments when they retreat into their own world, leaving you feeling a bit disconnected. But hey, remember, nobody's perfect, right? All these quirks just make them who they are.
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Pile 3
Positive side : Alright, so your future spouse is a pretty cool cat. They're like a master strategist, always thinking five steps ahead in whatever they do. You can bet on them to come up with some seriously genius plans that nobody else saw coming. They've got this natural gift for analyzing stuff – they can see the big picture and all the tiny details, which makes them freakishly good at problem-solving. They are really smart. They have this insatiable thirst for knowledge, and they're not afraid to dive deep into topics that fascinate them. And trust me, their ability to think critically is off the charts. They're not just about book smarts, though. They've got this quirky sense of humor that might catch you off guard, and you'll find yourself laughing at their witty remarks. They're super independent and have this unshakeable confidence. They won't hesitate to tackle challenges head-on, even if it means going against the crowd. Their determination is downright inspiring. Plus, when they decide to share their thoughts and ideas with you, it's like getting a VIP pass to their brilliant mind. You'll never be short of engaging conversations with these guys. Your future spouse has more earthly vibes. I'm getting heavy Capricorn and Virgo vibes. They may have their Venus in earth or vice versa.
Challenging side : Alright, I'm getting that Your future spouse's brain is like a constant whirlwind of ideas, which sometimes means they can come across as a tad distant. They're so deep in thought that they might unintentionally tune out the world around them. You might need to remind them that Earth still exists lol. Their analytical nature can be a double-edged sword. Sure, they're great at solving problems, but sometimes they overthink things to the point where it feels like they're dissecting the meaning of life. Patience might be your ally when they go into full-on ponder mode. Another thing is their high standards. They have this vision of how things should be, and they won't settle for anything less. It's awesome that they strive for excellence, but it could lead to some frustration if things don't meet their expectations. And while they're great at giving advice, they might not always be the best at dealing with emotional situations. They tend to approach things with logic, even when emotions are in play.
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writingwithfolklore · 7 months
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Surviving Death
                I am a sucker for revival after character death—as long as it’s done well. Maybe in the future we’ll do a separate post on killing characters, but what I’ll say about it now is that revival can be a fantastic plot twist or narrative turn as long as both it and the death has proper meaning.
                While you may want to revive a character for a happy ending--they wake up and not only is the world saved but everyone made it out alive! This can also sometimes feel a bit cheap. What was the point of suffering the death if they were just to get to come back easy-peasy? Consider, would End Game have been as revered if Tony got to survive his sacrifice?
                So here’s some ways to bring a character back to life without losing the meaning of their death:
They are forever changed from the experience
A classic “came back wrong”, one of my favourite things in fiction. You get to choose to the extent they are wrong. Maybe the ‘wrong’ isn’t some supernatural influence, but rather just a result of the experience of dying.
                They saw something about the afterlife, they’ve lost memories, they’ve gained new memories about a past or a future or alternate timeline, they realize how much they mean to certain people, they discover just how little they meant to others, etc. etc.
                Their death (and subsequent revival) should quite literally change the course of their life. That’s not something one could go through lightly. Whether it gives them trauma, new perspectives, or a complete shift in personality/morals, they definitely didn’t come back how they left.
2. Sacrifice for a Sacrifice
Also a pretty common trope—you don’t get to gain something unless you lose something. To bring them back, someone else has to take their place, or something important is lost. Maybe to trade for their companion back, the main character loses the greatest asset to their quest. Maybe they have to choose between two people, and the two who live have to live with that fact.
                I read a book once where the main character had to choose between his love interest and his brother in a Saw-like trap. He chooses his brother, and the villain kills him anyway. Now he must continue his quest with his love interest, who knows he didn’t choose her. It was tragic, and completely changed their dynamic.
3. They’re only half back
They come back, but only some of the way. Maybe they are cursed to die again in a year. They’re tied to one place and will disappear if they leave it. They’re a ghost, or otherwise not fully present. They exist only in relation to certain objects or people. Their communication is lost, or certain other abilities they used to have.
                They came back, but only some of them—the rest is lost to the beyond.
Most importantly to reviving characters is the permanent consequences. Death is no easy thing to overcome, and whatever the circumstances are--it should remain with them forever.
                What are some other ways to revive characters?
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novlr · 10 months
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How do you write a flashback? When a character remembers something they’ve forgotten?
How to write flashbacks
Flashbacks are a powerful tool to deepen character development, create tension, and unveil hidden truths. They have the unique ability to transport readers to pivotal moments from the past, adding layers of richness to your story
Why are flashbacks useful?
Flashbacks serve various purposes in storytelling, each contributing to the overall narrative in its unique way. Here are some of the most common ways flashbacks are used:
1. Deepen character development and provide backstory:
Flashbacks allow you to delve into a character's past, unveiling formative experiences that shaped their personality. By revealing childhood memories, past relationships, and significant events, you can provide readers with a deeper understanding of the character's motivations, internal conflicts, and complexities.
2. Create tension, suspense, or surprise:
Flashbacks offer a powerful tool for building tension and suspense. You can strategically use them to foreshadow future events, creating anticipation and keeping readers on the edge of their seats. Additionally, flashbacks can introduce surprising revelations, challenge readers' assumptions, and add unexpected twists to the plot.
3. Reveal hidden motivations or secrets:
With flashbacks, you can peel back the layers of your characters and expose their hidden motivations and secrets. By delving into the past, you can uncover buried secrets that impact their present actions, unveil the true nature of supporting characters or antagonists, and provide readers with a deeper understanding of the characters' complexities.
4. Highlight character growth or transformation:
Flashbacks are excellent tools for showcasing character growth and transformation. By contrasting past and present versions of your characters, you can illustrate their development over time. These glimpses into their past can reveal pivotal moments that trigger significant changes in behaviour, allowing readers to witness their journey of self-discovery and personal evolution.
5. Provide historical or contextual information:
Flashbacks offer an opportunity to provide historical or contextual information that enriches your story. By exploring past events, you can offer insights into the historical backdrop or cultural context of your narrative. This enhances the authenticity of your world-building and provides a deeper understanding of the setting in which your story unfolds.
6. Surface a forgotten memory:
One fascinating aspect of flashbacks is their ability to surface forgotten memories. By resurrecting your characters’ buried experiences, you can explore the impact of past traumas or significant events in their lives. This allows for emotional depth and character growth as they confront unresolved issues and find closure.
What makes a good flashback?
A good flashback is relevant to the main narrative, providing crucial insights into the character's motivations and conflicts. It evokes strong emotions and utilizes vivid descriptions to immerse readers in the past. A well-executed flashback contributes to character development and maintains a balanced narrative flow, seamlessly transitioning back to the present story.
Choosing a strategic moment that adds depth or context to the story.
Using sensory triggers from the present moment to initiate a transition to the past.
Having a clear transition in and out of the flashback.
Ensuring the flashback doesn't disrupt the overall pacing and narrative, and that it serves a functional purpose.
Connecting to the present with an object or a sensory experience that triggers the flashback.
Bringing flashbacks to life
To make your flashbacks come alive and immerse readers in the memory, effective descriptions are crucial. Consider these six quick tips for engaging descriptions within flashbacks:
Use vivid language to paint a picture of the scene.
Incorporate sensory details like sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures to immerse readers in the memory.
Focus on details that are relevant to the plot, character development, or thematic elements of the story, avoiding excessive tangents or unnecessary descriptions.
Choose words and phrases that reflect the intensity of emotions experienced during the flashback.
Instead of relying on exposition, use action, dialogue, and interactions for characters to reveal information.
Highlight specific moments or key aspects of the flashback that contribute to the overall narrative.
Emphasise body language and gestures to draw attention to the emotions and reactions of the event.
Demonstrate character development by highlighting changes in behaviour, belief, or attitudes.
Showcase conflicts and resolutions, allowing readers to witness how they were resolved or left unresolved.
How to fit flashbacks into your story
There is no hard and fast rule for the best way to incorporate a flashback. But here are some interesting ways you can work it into your narrative, each with a different feel depending on the type of story you’re telling.
Consider shifting the narrative perspective when transitioning to a flashback. For instance, if the main story is told from a third-person limited perspective, you could switch to a first-person perspective during the flashback to immerse readers in the character's direct experience.
Switch between past and present-moment reflections to create a sense of urgency. This can be done by having the character contemplate the significance of the memory or showing immediate connections to a character’s present situation.
Adapt the voice of the flashback to match the character’s age, knowledge, and emotional state during the flashback. This helps differentiate the narrative style and adds depth to the character's past experiences.
Blend flashbacks seamlessly into the main narrative by incorporating them into the character's thoughts, dialogue, or actions, rather than separating a flashback out into its own scene.
Use clear markers, such as chapter breaks, section headers, or formatting changes, to signal the beginning and end of a flashback to keep it contained within a scene.
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itneverendshere · 3 months
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you're crazy - rafe cameron (one shot!series)
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader (fem!reader; criminal!reader);
word count: 1637
WARNINGS: sexual tension; asshole!rafe; enemies to coworkers??; mentions of sex; sort of canon!rafe; guns!; eventual smut in future parts.
this is part of the you're no good one shot series :)
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Being born into a criminal life came with its perks.
It wasn’t a walk in the park, and most definitely not all sunshine and rainbows, but it wasn’t as horrible as it sounded once you got the hang of it. It’s not like you had a choice but to get used to it; people like you didn’t get options handed to them on a silver platter.
You made the best of what you had.
The one thing you never fully grasped was how the men surrounding you were all complete imbeciles. How they had the brains to pull off skimming rings, you’d never know. It added a layer of absurdity to your already unconventional life.
Safe to say you’d spent most of your life putting up with narcissistic, foolish assholes. Your father was included in the category. Years and years of pent-up frustration, being constantly overlooked by them, being told you were nothing but a pretty face in a sea of sharks.
Their colossal error was underestimating you, and the consequences were evident: most of them lay dead, your father confined to a hospital bed for life, and you assumed control of the family business just before your nineteenth birthday.
Karma, it seemed, always worked in your favor.
Confident in your ability to navigate the treacherous waters, you prepared to deal with Rafe Cameron. Having faced the worst kinds of men, he was just another obstacle on your path—a handsome one, perhaps, but nothing more.
That’s how you know the silent treatment is the most annoying thing you can do to the likes of him, running on a short fuse. You’ve seen him in arguments and physical fights before; he gets off on pissing off other people, their yelling, screaming, hitting just spurring him on.
He’s a crazy bastard, but you handle crazy better than anyone. When you’re dead silent, blankly staring at him, you know he’s going to snap sooner or later.
“Do I need to teach you how to use a fucking phone, uh?” He’s leaning over your shoulder, hand gripping your shoulder, “I texted you earlier.”
His tone is downright condescending, and you must remind yourself you can’t shoot him in the face, especially not in his house. But alas, there are other ways to set the record straight. You’re not about to let him order you around like he does to everyone else.
The muscles in his jaw clench like a vice, grinding against the pent-up frustration coursing through him, “Stop acting like a bitch, will you—look at me.”
The rhythmic tapping of a foot on the floor becomes a thunderous drumbeat, echoing the impatience and irritation that consumes him.
You’ve got him right where you want him.
“Or what?”
The corners of his lips curl upward with a sinister satisfaction. The subtle twist of his mouth exposes just enough teeth to convey a predatory amusement, casting an eerie shadow on his visage.
“Or I’ll put that pretty mouth of yours to good use. Can't bitch to me with a mouth full of dick, can you, sweetheart?"
Your lips curve upward in a sweetly saccharine smile, a facade of warmth that didn't quite reach your eyes. The corners of your mouth lifted with calculated precision, crafting an illusion of congeniality that seems almost too perfect. It’s a performance of sweetness, a mask you’ve spent years perfecting.
Your posture plays along, leaning slightly forward to give an appearance of openness, yet the controlled tension in your frame hints at a deliberate manipulation. Then, with a subtle shift, the atmosphere changes. The smile persists, but the warmth evaporates, leaving behind a cold, unyielding resolve.
It was as if a switch had been flipped, and the truth emerges from the shadows. Your eyes, once sparkling with false sweetness, now pierce through the pretense with a steely gaze, revealing the icy truth beneath the sugary exterior.
“Watch your fucking tone, Cameron.” Your hand moves with practiced precision, aligning the barrel of your gun with a level of subtlety that defies detection. The weight of the firearm, concealed beneath the fabric of your clothing, remains a secret threat, “Next thing you know, you’ll have a bullet shoved up your ass.”
A shift in the atmosphere signifies the dawning awareness on his face. His pretty eyes widen, pupils dilating with the sudden recognition of the perilous situation. It’s as if the cold touch of the barrel has grazed the contours of his consciousness.
Rafe’s quick to hide his surprise, titling his head as he examines your face, “You brought a gun to my house?”
With an air of subtle exasperation, you cast your eyes skyward, their movement a fluid and practiced roll. The graceful arc of your eyebrows framed eyes that, despite their momentary defiance, retain an undeniable allure to him.
How the hell did he not notice you were pointing a gun at him the entire time?
“Like you’re not carrying yours in your back pocket?”
“You’ve been staring at my ass, sweetheart?”
Your smirk returns, a blend of amusement and defiance, "Well, Cameron, considering the crap that comes out of it, I figured I should keep an eye on it."
His attempt at a comeback falters, and for a moment, you revel in the satisfaction of having the upper hand. The room simmers with tension, and the realization of his vulnerability lingers in the air. The power dynamic has shifted, and you're not just a pretty face in his sea of sharks. 
The corners of his mouth twitch, a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken truth.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that."
You maintain your poised demeanor, the gun still subtly trained on him. "Guts, brains, and a bullet with your name on it. Choose your next words carefully, Rafe."
His bravado wavers, and for a fleeting moment, you see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. The rhythm of his foot tapping on the floor stumbles, the drumbeat disrupted by the unforeseen twist in the confrontation. You've successfully disrupted his usual rhythm, and it's clear that he's grappling with the realization that you're not just another obstacle on his path.
Your sweet smile has transformed into a calculated expression of authority, a reminder that in this dangerous game, you're a player to be reckoned with. The silence that follows hangs heavy, punctuated only by the unspoken understanding that you've turned the tables, and for now, Rafe Cameron is at your mercy.
“The text I sent you earlier,” He starts, “It’s about the gold.”
“What about it?”
“Sarah— my sister, for whatever fucking reason, is with John B now and they’re on it.”
Your eyes narrow as the revelation settles in. The mention of the gold adds an unexpected layer of complexity to the situation. Sarah Cameron, entangled with John B in the pursuit of the treasure, introduces a variable you hadn't anticipated. It's a precarious alliance that could tip the balance of power in unforeseen directions.
"Your sister is with John B?" Your tone is laced with skepticism, not entirely convinced that Rafe Cameron isn't spinning another web of deceit.
He nods, a mix of frustration and concern etched across his face.
"They're on the trail, and they're not the only ones. Kooks and Pogues alike are gunning for it. It's a mess."
The gravity of the situation dawns on you. The gold, a coveted prize with the potential to reshape the dynamics of your life, is now in the hands of a volatile mix of individuals, underage individuals at that.
Your mind races, calculating the risks and opportunities that come with this unexpected turn of events.
"Sarah's involved in this mess?" Your words carry a hint of incredulity, but deep down, you're not entirely surprised. The Camerons seem to be drawn to trouble like moths to a flame.
Rafe's eyes meet yours, a trace of vulnerability in his gaze. "Yeah, and I need your help to sort this out.”
A cynical chuckle escapes your lips. "Help you? You must be out of your mind, Cameron. I don't do family reunions, especially not when it involves gold and a bunch of meddling kids."
His jaw tightens, but he knows better than to push you too far. The unspoken threat of the concealed gun serves as a constant reminder of your unpredictable nature.
"I'm not asking for a family reunion," He retorts, "I'm asking you to keep your word. You said you’d do it, yeah? We have a deal, that’s why you’re here.”
Your lips curl into a sardonic smile, and you tilt your head slightly, assessing him. "I'll play along—for now."
The room is heavy with unspoken tension as you glance around, taking stock of your surroundings. The prospect of diving into the chaos surrounding the gold doesn't sit entirely comfortably with you, but opportunity often wears a deceptive mask.
"Here's the deal, then," you declare, your tone firm. "I'll help you clean up this mess, but once the gold is in our hands, our paths diverge. No strings attached, and no more family dramas. Are we clear?"
Rafe's gaze holds yours, a mixture of relief and acknowledgment in his eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes.
 "Crystal clear," He replies, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, "Once we have the gold, you're free to go your way, and I'll go mine."
With a nod of agreement, you holster the gun, a silent acknowledgment that, for now, the alliance holds. 
“Although my bed is always open for you, sweetheart.”
You huff, turning around as you make your way towards Ward’s office, Rafe trailing behind, you cast a final glance over your shoulder.
“Go eat a dick, Cameron.”
He raises an eyebrow, a sardonic smile playing on his lips, "You really know how to kill the mood.”
“Would rather have me kill you instead?”
“Is this some kind of foreplay?” 
What the hell have you gotten yourself into. 
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yuurei20 · 2 months
Note
Does Twst follow Western or Asian school system
Because third years are like, the highest year right? But I think it mentioned fourth years go off into internships. So?
Hello hello!! Thank you for this question!
Based on what we have seen, I think things might be skewed in the direction of various elements combined from different Western school systems!
Here is what we know:
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1) The characters will occasionally reference “elementary school” and “middle school,” using the English-language words, not Japanese.
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2) They also refer to NRC as a high school, using the English word for high school and the Japanese word for “high school student,” possibly because grammar rules would make using "high school student" in English very awkward.
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3) NRC is “Night Raven College,” and in the UK, “college” is a two-year institution where many students go from the age of 16 in order to prepare for university (it is different from the American use of the word “college.”) And Book 7 begins with the 3rd-years discussing whether or not they intend to move on to university after NRC.
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So NRC might not be following one Western system or another, instead having picked and chosen different elements from different systems and combined them: a college (referred to as a high school) that they begin at age 16 to prepare for the future (re: the UK) and lasts 4 years (re: the US), beginning in September (re: UK/US).
And this is actually something that the prefect comments on in the novel! It is possible that everything being so different from Japan (where high school starts at age 15, in April, lasting three years) is to contribute to the double culture-shock being suffered by the main character, who is not only in an unknown world but a world  that seems heavily influenced by non-Japanese countries in everything from the school system and the food to the shapes of the buildings:
“He’s heard before that there are schools in foreign countries that begin in autumn. This school’s system seems to be closer to those of Western countries than to those of Japan; though, he had already assumed as much, based on the shapes of the buildings.”
“Yuuya had heard of high schools that last for four years even back in his own world, in countries overseas.”
“Thinking about it, Yuuya realizes that he can’t recall having ever seen Japanese food or sweets since coming to Twisted Wonderland. The snacks in the cafeteria and the school store have always seemed to be more in line with what he imagines American and British cuisine to be like. Just thinking about familiar flavors has Yuuya craving them, but if an-bread is being sold here, then Japanese foods must exist after all.”
This means that the EN-server main character might not be experiencing the same degree of culture shock as the JP-server main character, but Aniplex USA probably just didn’t have the ability to change parts of the game like the time of year that school begins, how long it lasts and what foreign languages are used in it in order to get the same general atmosphere across, so it is what it is!
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circeyoru · 20 days
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The Boy & The Witch _ Part 2
[Human!Alastor x Witch!Reader]
Part 1 — Part 2 (here)
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The boy, now named Alastor, came often to your little home in the forest. His attitude could be described as excited, eager, and twisted. You’d say that it was near your level and perhaps over as time goes by. You weren’t wrong
Alastor was more adapt in learning darker arts. While you can heal, Alastor shows no talent in such. Though as if to make up for it, he was extremely talented in shadows. A form of magic you have trouble with due to your abilities in the purer magic. Soon, his shadow came to life with glowing eyes and a crescent moon as its smile
You told him that he needs to control his shadow as it started doing it own thing when it came to life. It was harmless to you, but if anyone were to find out, there’d be hell to pay. It took a while but Alastor and his shadow got used to each other. When dealing with sentile beings, it takes time, you told him while he mediated, if he wants more control, he must be of sound mind and body first
Once, you were in town again, gathering on some supplies to stock up and saw Alastor. You were going to greet him, but you saw a women step into the frame. You figured it was his mother, but you were conflicted, his smile was genuine, familiar to how happy you saw him when he was learning and mastering the darker arts of voodoo magic
Thinking back, he never mentioned his mother to you, only his father that he loathed and seeked revenge on. The conclusion you came to was that he was doing it for his mother too, the mistreatment included her
You left, reminding yourself to talk with Alastor the next time he visited
“You know you can’t go to Heaven now that you meddle in voodoo magic, right?” You leaned against the door frame of your little experiment room, your arms crossed over your chest while you looked at the back of Alastor’s form. You noticed his shadow’s smile turned to a frown and shivered, but Alastor reminded focus on his task “What brought this along?” Alastor questioned as he grind down some animal bones accounting to one of your many books “The other day, I saw you with your mother I presume. She’s a nice lady that will go to Heaven and you’re damned for Hell.” You continued “You’ll be there with me, right?”  “Well, of course, I’m the one that brought you into this, so naturally. I think my family and relatives made some sort of clan down there. They living the life ther.” You chuckled, “And Hell is supposed to be a punishment too.” “If you’ll be in Hell as well, I can live without my mother there, she belongs in Heaven. I’ll treasure my time here now while I’m alive.” Alastor spoke softly Your eyes narrowed, a small frown on your face, you turned to leave but not before saying, “Then you shouldn’t be there with me. Go back home, boy.”
Like Alastor was listening to you, he didn’t come back the next day, or the day after. For a while, your home was void of the apprentice you took in and given the name of Alastor to. You’ll admit that you felt lonely and thought if you were being too cruel to him
You waited for a week longer to see if there was any change in Alastor’s visit to the forest. Oddly enough, there was no sighting of him. Why you say that because when he was younger, he’d play disappearance for a few days to catch your attention. You found him hiding within the tree branches when you went to look for him
But now it was a teenager, nearly adult. Some can say you two grow up together, you’re not shy to admit that he has grown to be quite the lady’s killer. He has gonna popular in school and town. Getting a nice internship at the radio station to prepare him for his future career
You knew that under his perfect front, how painful and cruel his life behind closed doors was. Not to mention his cruelty and heinous thoughts he habour to those that do him wrong. So you left your home when the sun was about to set to where Alastor’s home was. You peeked inside from one of the uncovered windows. It was all quiet. Too quiet
Securing your cloak and the deep hood over head, you went to the back door. Using your own shorted staff, you tapped the lock and unlocked the door as it opened on its own and closed when you entered into the house
You wandered around, coming to a stop when you passed the living room with a body laid on the carpet and another on the couch. You cautiously stepped forward, checking the mother to see if she was breathing, when she was, despite the blood from her head. You turned to the man, father of Alastor’s due to the resemblance, and checked his breathing. He was sleeping
Kneeling down, you hovered your hand over the mother’s injured head and healed her a bit. Then you turned your attention to the staircase and slowly made your way up. When you made it up, you scanned the doors that were all opened, except one. You stood before it, trying the handle first, locked. You did the same thing to the back door and unlocked it with ease
The door creeked with a whine, you eyes pierced into the room, bathed in the light from the setting sun. You noticed the motionless body on the bed and made your way over. You sat on the edge of the head, facing away from Alastor. “You know, your mother’s in a dying state. But I healed her enough to get through the night.”
Alastor merely flinched, enough of a sign to show you he was awake and listening
“I wonder though, still you let this father, this man, to rule over your life any longer. You’re not the only one suffering.” You spoke
You sat there playing with your shortened staff when you left Alastor get up and left the room. You waited for a while before you followed suit and went down. You weren’t surprised to see Alastor standing over the now dead body of his father and the blood staff in his hands
With a snap of your fingers, the living room was in a worst wreck. You walked over to Alastor, pausing to let him lean over you. “Don’t worry, this would be like your family was attacked by armed robbers. You’re going to sleep for a while and your neighbours will find out then alert the police. I honoured your revenge, now let me handle the aftermath.”
As if your words were what he needed, his eyes closed shut and his full weight crashed into yours. You carefully kneeled down to set him on the floor. Making sure he was just sleeping. You eyed his shadow and pushed the staff to it so that it was hidden when the neighbours and officers come
You stood on the branch of a nearby tree, its leaves hiding you while you watched concerned and nosy individuals crowd around Alastor’s house. The police set up the perimeter and medical officers brought Alastor and his mother’s unconscious bodies to the hospital
“Glad it wasn’t the young boy or the mother that’s killed.” “Yeah, would have been unjust.” “Now they can live peacefully.” “That’s good.”
So the father wasn’t well-liked already. You thought to yourself, your staff elongated to its original form. You tapped the end of it to the tree branch. All the better. You stared down as the deceased body was brought out. Makes for an easier target. I have to ask my family to catch his soul.
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Note: Long overdue part 2. Since things have slowed down, I'm working on the requests meant for longer writing. The ones where I can rant or is just a short answers will be posted quicker~
Circe Y.
Other Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@aconfusedwonderland
@crowleysthings
@donustellaron@mistpurpl3
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youareunbearable · 5 months
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Its late and im tired so please excuse if this doesn't make sense but lately, I've been thinking about Angry Aredhel must have been
Like realistically, when has this woman made a single decision about her future for herself, and in the few times when she did, when did it not end in tragedy
She must have been so angry, so frustrated and wrathful at her lot in life. She was meant for other things, greater thing! She was a disciple of Orome, the Maiden in White, one of the best hunters in his group along with her cousin.
Yet here she is, caged and trapped like a pretty little canary in a wire house. Stolen from her purpose because of her eldest brother's blind loyalty, her father's stubborn pride, her second oldest brother's blinding grief, and her baby brother's terminal bravery. She's across an ocean, escaped one cage for another by her tormentor and abuser posing as a husband.
The bastard won't even name their child.
She must have be so angry, stuck in that endless darkness, the forest must be such a familiar landscape but so different, twisted and wrong like looking into a warped mirror.
Shes grieving outside her "home" one night, having managed to convince the trees to part their branches just enough that she can glimpse a star or two so she can bask in the starlight. Its been a year since the birth of her son, and nothing has changed. Eol won't look at the boy, and she can feel herself drifting. Without the ability to see the passage of time, without the Light of the Trees or with the Sun and Moon chasing each other across the sky, things are blending together and she feels adrift.
At least when they crossed they ice, they were able to watch the stars move across the endless dark.
The starlight warms her skin, as weak and distant as it is, so she basks. With her eyes closed and face tilted up she feels like a lizard in the mid day sun. Behind her, she hears a noise, a twig being deliberately stepped upon. Aredhel whips around, raising her glowing lichen lamp, wondering if its her husband or one of his servants come to take her back. She feels a little feral at the idea of being dragged away from the pitiful starlight.
A wolf, with a pelt as crisp and clean as the snow dusting Himring's mountain top, slinks into the soft glow. Its fur takes on an almost sickly colour in the green luminescence. The wolf settles at the edge of the light, resting on its haunches as it observes her.
Aredhel thinks she's beautiful, for it is a female wolf. Even in the weak lamplight the beast's silver eyes seem to glow on their own, piercing her very fea and enticing her to come forward, to come closer. There is a power within the she wolf, one Aredhel craves.
The white beast introduces herself as a member of Orome's hunt, and Aredhel believes it, for the she wolf looks like the perfect hunter. The wolf asks her what she, as a fellow hunter, is doing out so far away from her kin and cub.
Momentarily surprised by the ability to speak, for not even Huan can speak so freely, Aredhel responses. She shares her desire for light, her frustration with her "husband," and how she wants a different life for her son. She never wanted this, and she wishes she had the ability to take control of her own fate.
The wolf is sympathetic to her plights, and offers to help her free herself and her child.
"You do have the ability to change your own fate, young one. Asking for help is something no one else could have done for you."
So Aredhel leads the wolf back to Eol's house. They walk through the entry way, both hunters are silent as the dawn as they go. Aredhel heads towards the master bedroom, but hesitates at the door. She can see Eol on his side of their bed, snoring lightly as he does. She hesitates, seeing a vision of what will happen once he realizes she's gone. Fire, doom and death follows her, poison and a flash of fang would flicker in him before he strikes her down for disobedience, for stealing away the son he won't even name.
The wolf nudges her aside, ghosting past her into the room. Aredhel's throat closes up and she slinks away, heading towards Lomion's nursery. She leaves to go strap her sleeping infant son to her chest, then grabs some supplies from the kitchen in a bag. Not even hearing a mouse skittering in the walls, let alone her wolf companion, she steels her nerves to check the master bedroom one more time.
As she passes her bedroom, she can see through a crack in the door and her breath freezes. Standing over the now corpse of her husband, maw dripping red from the freshly torn out throat, the white wolf looms. Aredhel stares transfixed, she can almost taste the blood between her own teeth, feel the rush of the kill, ache of her gums as tendons and tissue would rub against them. The wolf turns to look at her, silver eyes wild, white fur stained with her kill. Aredhel feels the air return to her lungs, she feels lighter and free, a little giggle slips past her lips and the wolf peels back its lips and bares its dripping fangs in a smile.
Aredhel leaves the house, fleeing on foot and all the while she can hear the wolf following her, keeping pace and shadowing her in the darkness, and at some points, ahead of her, leading her out of the woods. Running like this, oh she hasn't done this in years!. The wind snapping at her hair, branches and leaves kissing her cheeks and arms, the rush of a completed hunt with another one ahead of her feels like her first real breath in a long time. It feels like days later, and seconds, heartbeats, when she can see the treeline, dawn's hazy reddish glow peaking through the trees.
Aredhel gives a joyful cry and runs faster. That laughter bubbling up inside of her finally bursts past her lips once she breaks the treeline. The sun on her skin is warm and bright and all she wants to do is laugh and cry and scream until her throat is raw and her tears run dry. But she has to keep moving, she has Lomion still with her, and she is too close to the woods to feel truly safe yet. She walks north, and east, not really knowing where she's heading but knowing that she'll cross into her cousins' land soon. As she walks, she soon realizes that she hasn't seen or heard from her she wolf in a while. Stopping, Aredhel turns to look back, but no where can she see that brilliant white coat, or any tracks that look like wolf paws. She squint, looking back at the distant treeline and sees nothing but shadow. She mourns for her companion, wishing she could have wished her well or at least thanked her for her help. She wonders if Orome set the wolf to free her, not wanting to see one of his hunters in chains.
Its about mid morning when she comes across some of her cousins men, and they're horrified. They ask if she's ok, of she's hurt, they take her to a nearby stream even though she insists she's fine, that she wants to see her cousins.
When she sees her reflection she's scared for a moment. All she can see it blood, dried and crusted down her throat, staining her lips and chin. There is red all along the collar of her white dress, her sleeves, but her hands are clean, and so is her son still asleep strapped across her chest. She looks into her reflection, not yet comprehending. Silver eyes that seem so familiar stare back above the red, above the proof of her freedom.
She bares her bloody teeth in smile.
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jgoddesstarot · 6 months
Text
Pick-A-Pile: First Impressions: What will be your initial reaction upon meeting your Future Spouse?
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👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊
✨ Visit my shops at Ko-fi.com or J.Goddess Tarot✨
🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.
🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.
🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.
Pile 1
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Tarot Cards: The Empress, 10 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, 10 of Wands, 9 of Cups, and 10 of Cups
Oracle Cards: Pink Opal: Be Kind to Yourself; Apatite: Get Out of Your Comfort Zone; Calling In Your Soul Mate: Your prayers, affirmations and visualizations help bring you together.
Welcome, my seductive Pile 1's. Let’s delve into the intoxicating allure of your tarot spread, beckoning with passion and mysteries. First up is The Empress, dripping with sensuality, fertility, and undeniable beauty. The moment your eyes meet your future spouse's, expect a rush of electrifying chemistry, a sensation that envelopes you in heated familiarity. Their aura will caress your senses, making you feel desired and adored, like the rare gem that you are.
Sliding into the 10 of Pentacles, this card exudes the tantalizing scent of wealth, legacy, and commitment. Your future lover promises to be an anchor, established and opulent, someone who fervently cherishes family and long-term visions. The Ace of Pentacles accentuates this, whispering of thrilling financial adventures or career escapades. Meeting this bewitching partner may not just be an emotional whirlwind, but also a luscious twist in your wealth or professional trajectory.
Ah, the 10 of Wands, sensuously hinting at burdens and enticing challenges. But fret not, my tantalizing Pile 1’s, for this just portrays your future lover as one who passionately embraces hard work and seductively shoulders responsibilities. The 9 of Cups, draped in satisfaction and deep contentment, assures you that your early dalliances with this person will leave you thirsting for more, drowning in emotional ecstasy.
Now, as the 10 of Cups dances forth, it speaks of euphoria, serenity, and intimate bonds. This card seductively hints that your initial rendezvous will be bathed in intense joy and pleasure, signifying an everlasting passionate bond. From the oracle realm, the Pink Opal card sensuously beckons you to treat yourself with the tenderness you deserve, while the Apatite card tempts you to venture beyond familiar territories.
Our concluding oracle whisper, "Calling In Your Soul Mate," is a sultry testament to your deep desires and powerful visualizations. Your yearnings, sultry affirmations, and vivid daydreams are crafting the path to your destined lover. So, remain sultry, persist with those enticing affirmations, and prepare to embrace the passion coming your way.
In the end, the cards paint a portrait of an intoxicating, immediate connection with your future lover, guaranteeing stability and unbridled happiness. They invite you to embark on this amorous journey with a fearless heart, daring you to step out and believe fervently in the potency of your desires. Exquisite romance is en route to you. Relish the journey, my seductive Pile 1’s, and anticipate the electrifying embrace of your true love.
Pile 2
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Tarot Cards: 6 of Wands, The Emperor, The Star, Queen of Wands (in reverse), 6 of Cups (in reverse)
Oracle Cards: Angelite: Support is all around you, Labradorite: See the Magic, Heart-to-Heart Conversations: Honestly discuss your feelings with each other
Greetings, my luscious Pile 2's. Prepare yourself to be swept off your feet as we dive into a tantalizing journey, revealing the seductive first impressions you'll experience upon laying eyes on your destined love. The cards we hold are infused with an intensely powerful and magnetic attraction, so let's take a daring dip into their mysteries.
Setting the rhythm for our dance is the 6 of Wands, which signifies recognition and triumph. From the instant you cross paths with your future spouse, you'll be consumed by an invigorating wave of pride. It's as if you've been suddenly thrust into a sultry spotlight, and they are your most passionate admirer, hypnotized by your every move. It's victorious, empowering, and undeniably electrifying.
Next, we're drawn into the commanding realm of The Emperor. My Pile 2's, there's an irresistible magnetic force here. You’ll perceive them as a powerful figure who radiates confidence and stability—a dominating presence who knows their desires and is not hesitant to seize them. This potent energy will be both daunting and enticing, like being drawn into the rhythm of a fiery tango.
Twinkling enticingly, The Star is up next. A symbol of hope, calm, and inspiration, this card suggests that your heart will acknowledge a profound, spiritual bond, almost as if fate is whispering intimate secrets of the cosmos into your soul. Their mere presence will ignite hope and illuminate the shadowy recesses of your heart.
Nonetheless, every captivating tale has its unforeseen twists. The Queen of Wands in reverse hints at an initial stir of intimidation or a fleeting lapse in your confidence in your own allure. Coupled with the 6 of Cups reversed, there may be feelings of disconnection or unfamiliarity, as if you're stepping into a completely new chapter, disconnected from past loves or youthful memories.
Our oracle guides chime in to paint the emotional backdrop. Angelite assures you that even in these moments of doubt, celestial energies wrap you in their comforting embrace, persuading you to trust the journey. Labradorite seductively entices you to recognize the magic in each moment, hinting that beneath every interaction, layers of enchantment are ready to be unraveled. Heart-to-Heart Conversations promises that the key to deciphering this riddle lies in open, naked dialogue. Speaking your truth and listening to theirs will embroider the rich tapestry of your shared destiny.
In conclusion, my enticing Pile 2's, your first rendezvous with your future spouse will be a maelstrom of commanding allure, hope, minor hesitations, and the promise of deeper connections. Embrace this journey, let candid conversations illuminate your path, and remember that amidst uncertainties, magic and celestial support are constants. The cards are whispering an epic love story where your blended energies ignite the world. So, brace yourself, for this journey promises to be nothing short of thrilling.
Pile 3
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Tarot Cards: 8 of Wands, Ace of Cups, Knight of Cups, 5 of Cups, 3 of Pentacles
Oracle Cards: Amazonite: Loosen Your Grip, Aventurine: Create Your Own Luck, Flirt: Extend your lighthearted energy to others
Greetings, my captivating Pile 3's. Your tarot journey begins with the swift and energetic 8 of Wands. Upon meeting your future spouse, your world will burst open with vibrant energy and a rapid progression of events. Think about the fireworks that ignite the dark, starlit sky with their brilliance. That's your connection; immediate, dynamic, and impossible to ignore.
Next, the Ace of Cups overflows with pure emotion and the promise of new beginnings. This radiant cup is the vessel carrying your initial reaction. It's so intense; your emotions are genuine and deep, brimming with potential for an extraordinary love story. You feel as if you've found someone who can touch and understand the deepest parts of your heart.
Then, the Knight of Cups rides in, symbolizing your future spouse. This knight is an embodiment of charm, romance, and gentle emotions. Your heart will flutter in response to their tender gestures, their soothing words, and above all, their captivating aura of mystery. Every interaction with them feels like a beautifully composed melody that you can't stop humming.
However, the 5 of Cups suggests that amid the excitement and wonder, there will be a tinge of sadness or regret. Perhaps memories of past heartbreaks will resurface, or you may sense a melancholic undertone in your spouse's smiles. Remember, my Pile 3's, these emotional landscapes only enrich your shared narrative, adding depth and authenticity.
The 3 of Pentacles, a card of teamwork and shared goals, reinforces this idea. Together, you will build a nurturing, supportive environment. Your shared dreams and aspirations will become the solid bricks that construct your future.
The Oracle cards amplify the tarot's message. Amazonite urges you to 'Loosen Your Grip.' Allow yourself to be carried away by this whirlwind romance. Aventurine encourages you to 'Create Your Own Luck.' Own your narrative and infuse it with your unique charm and flair. Lastly, the 'Flirt' card suggests extending your lighthearted energy to others. So, enjoy those initial, fluttery moments of getting to know each other.
In conclusion, my dazzling Pile 3's, your first encounter with your future spouse will be a vibrant dance of emotions, a mix of thrill, deep affection, gentle melancholy, and the promise of shared dreams. Remember, every unique thread adds to the intricate tapestry of your love story. So, embrace each moment with open arms and hearts, for they will lead to love as deep as the ocean, as enduring as the mountains.
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blurredcolour · 1 year
Text
You Oughta Know
Summary: Your blossoming relationship with Bradley Bradshaw had been utterly unexpected and as your feelings for him deepen, you feel an increasing pressure to share something that might change his mind about a future with you.
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS)
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Discussion of Endocrine Disorders and Possible Infertility, Discussion of Medical Procedures, Reader Likes Trader Joe's White Queso Dip - Rating T.
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Author’s Note: I’ve lived with PCOS the majority of my life. I recognize that it is significantly understudied as it does not affect men directly and that the experience of this disorder is very different for every individual. Therefore, I’ve based this off my experiences specifically.
Word Count: 1807
Bradley Bradshaw had not been what you were looking for. You had, in fact, been looking for a jar of white queso. Had made a special trip to Trader Joe’s to get the only kind that would have satisfied your craving, only to watch the last jar disappear into the basket of a broad-shouldered, six-foot tall brunette male in a green flight suit. You had made an involuntary noise of dismay and drawn the attention of his caramel-coloured eyes, finding it suddenly very difficult to fully inflate your lungs.
A comedy of manners had ensued, each of you insisting the other take the jar, until you stated that he simply had to have it as he had gotten there first before hitting him with a ‘thank you for your service’ and fleeing the aisle. He had been unspeakably handsome and overwhelming. You had been quite pleased with your continued ability to form coherent sentences throughout the encounter. Rewarding yourself with a box of frozen treats, you had unwrapped one to eat on the way back to your car.
The universe had rewarded you with a flat tire. Being the independent woman that you are, you had been in the process of trying to loosen the first lug nut, with both a tire iron and some very colourful language, when a familiar figure had appeared at the back of your vehicle. It had been both annoying and arousing how easily he removed your flat before securing the spare, all the while asking just the right questions to get to know you without coming off as alarming. You had ended up sharing the jar of queso and a bag of taco chips in the backseat of his bronco – winding up with the dip and the guy.
Three actual dates in and it was going shockingly well. Spectacularly, even, if the lingering goodnight kiss pressed against your front door at the end of your last date was any indication. The more time you spent with him, the more you found you had in common with one another. It only made you want to know him better. Not to mention his very presence left you somewhat breathless.
So, as you walked hand-in-hand along the Broken Hill Trail in Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve just outside San Diego after work one Friday, you could not help but notice the way his eyes would follow little family groups that crossed your path. The way his lips would twitch into a smile at a particularly cute baby or precocious child insisting on taking the rough hewn stairs on their own. His smile was always infectious, usually planting an echoing expression on your face, but this evening was different.
While you in no way had been deceitful, the sour twist in the pit of your stomach felt exactly as though you had been lying to him in some way. You had known since the age of thirteen, when the specialist had diagnosed you with polycystic ovarian syndrome, that children would maybe not be in the cards for you. At that age it had felt like a free pass. You were put on birth control to ensure regular menstruation, and basically told that unintended pregnancy would not be an issue for you.
As you had made your way through your twenties, however, your perspective had changed. Watching the lengths that some women with your endocrine disorder went through to conceive, you felt a responsibility to share the reality of your reproductive situation with partners you felt serious about. And yes, it was probably too early, but there was something about Bradley that set a fire beneath your sternum, one that you could not ignore. You felt as though you owed it to him, especially with the portions of his story that he had shared with you so far.
“Do you want kids, Bradley?” You blurted out, nearly missing a step as his head whipped around to face you, his aviator sunglasses barely clinging to his face through the force of his motion.
Somehow he had found time after work to change into a pair of jeans that hung on his body just right and a Hawaiian shirt that would have looked ridiculous on someone else but somehow suited him just right, with a white tank top underneath. While the hike you two had chosen was by no means arduous, the heat of the day was lingering as the sun sank lower in the sky, covering his tan skin in an attractive sheen of sweat. You chose not to dwell on what you probably looked like right now.
“I…I mean yeah I guess…” he huffed out a nervous laugh, and you sank your teeth into your lower lip, feeling somewhat guilty at your ambush as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously with his free hand. “Yes.” He tacked on with more confidence, squeezing your interlaced fingers.
“Mmm.” You hummed thoughtfully in reply as it felt as though your heart dropped through the ground beneath your feet, losing your nerve as he confirmed your suspicions.
The pair of you reached the top of the incline you had been ascending, stepping out onto one of the scenic outlooks along the hiking route. Bradley allowed you to silently lead him to the fence at the edge of the cliff, leaving footprints in the sand that collected atop the rock. You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head, the intensity of it growing the longer you remained silent.
“Just mmm?” He prodded quietly, interrupting the sound of the waves lapping at the beach below and your internal musings about possibly throwing yourself off the cliff to avoid this altogether.
“I…I just…” You tried, but the words were clinging stubbornly to your tongue. “…shit…” You hissed at yourself under your breath before pressing your lips together in a thin line. It had never been this difficult before.
You felt his hands grip the front of your hips before, in a blur of movement, he lifted and turned your body to perch you on the top fence rail. Facing him now, you were nearly at his eye level and had nowhere to hide.
“What’s going on?” He asked gently, his hold on you simultaneously supporting you and caging you in.
The contrast between his gentle tone and the strength of his body was thrilling. Was one of many reasons why your heart was now rabbiting in your throat.
“It might be really hard for me to have kids…” You blurted out, watching his reaction with bated breath. As the icy grip of fear seized you, you realized now why it had been so hard to say. You had never cared about someone’s reaction quite so much.
“Gonna be fun trying, though.” He flashed a devastating, lopsided grin before slotting his mouth against yours.
His plush, warm lips easily coaxed yours open to allow his tongue to lick into your mouth. You quickly reached out to grasp his biceps, fingers curling into the colourful fabric of his shirt as his slick, wet muscle slid along yours, almost erasing every coherent thought inside your head.
“No, it won’t…” You sighed sadly against his lips as he eventually pulled back, fighting through the dizzying aftereffects of his kiss to explain as he clearly did not understand the extent of it. “I can’t even bleed without medical intervention, Bradley…copious amounts of sex aren’t going to cut it.” You pulled back to look at him properly. “Endless appointments. Injections. A never-ending cycle of hope and disappointment. IVF. Massive amounts of money. Years, maybe. Might not even be possible…It’s just. It’s something you oughta know. You’re a busy man with an important career. When there are women out there who get pregnant with twins just from looking at them, don’t want you to waste your time.”
As you spoke, you could feel his grip on your hips tightening, see the muscles in his jaw and neck tensing, but those damned sunglasses hid his eyes from view. Swallowing nervously, you turned your head to the side, focusing on the long light of sunset playing on the waves below. Bradley’s face suddenly flooded your field of vision as he leaned in to catch your eyes with his, his aviators now hanging from the collar of his white undershirt. You hadn’t even noticed his one hand leave your hip. You blinked rapidly, trying to pull your eyes into focus on the much-closer target.
“Did you just call yourself a waste of time?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow before pecking your lips. “Because that’s wholly untrue…” He planted another kiss, the coarse hair of his moustache tickling your upper lip, drawing an involuntary giggle from you and sigh of relief from him. He straightened and gently lifted the sunglasses from your nose with his free hand, settling them atop your head while still holding you steady on the fence with the other. “Do you want children?” He asked with a tilt of his head, eyes never leaving yours.
You took a deep breath, considering your answer, before exhaling slowly.
“Honestly, I’ve…never really allowed myself to really think about it? It feels about as easy as going to the moon so…”
“JFK said we should go to the moon because it was difficult, and we made it.” He reassured you gently, brushing the backs of his fingers down your cheek.
You opened your mouth to reply. Perhaps to correct the quote as ‘not because it was easy but because it was hard,’ or perhaps to remind him that it took four percent of the federal budget to achieve, but the words had congealed into a lump in your throat that you couldn’t dislodge, no matter how hard you swallowed. You slid your arms around his neck and arched up, pulling his lips back onto yours, replying with a deep kiss instead; your tongue seeking his as your fingers twined into the hair at the nape of his neck.
“’Sides…” He rasped when you eventually allowed him a chance to breathe, thumb swiping at a tear that had stolen down your cheek unbeknownst to you. “Never met anyone who likes white queso as much as me…Who else am I gonna eat it with?” He teased and nipped your lower lip.
A breath shuddered past your lips as your heart swelled in your chest, suddenly feeling too full for the confines of your ribcage.
“Rooster?” You licked your lips, delighting in his sharp intake of breath at your first use of his call sign. “You want come over for a drink?” You gnawed on your lower lip again, this time in eager anticipation.
The man had never moved so fast, rumbling a hasty ‘yes’ before helping you down from the fence rail and eagerly leading you back toward the parking lot.
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shunshunrika · 9 months
Text
warnings: smut, 18+!shidou, spitting, degrading talk, anal, biting, oral(m! receiving), scratching, nipple play, creampie, not proofread.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ HATE SEX! SHIDOU RYUSEI
mdni, 18+ only
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If you could kill Ryusei Shidou, you would.
After what he did to your best friend Kunigami in the blue lock knockouts, he became your sworn enemy. It got even worse when you became aware that the sadistic boy was infatuated with you. So what happens when bloodlust and hormonal lust mix? You find yourselves having a deathmatch in the sheets.
Your weapon of choice is orgasm denial. You would edge him without mercy, eating up his length, suckling on the reddened head till Shidou was heavily groaning. You would prod at a sensitive vein on the length with your tongue and watch his reaction. He was too foolish, he always gave away the fact that he was about to cum and you would always retract from him, leaving him utterly dumbfounded and snarling.
You were keen on using your nails, so, when he was hungrily kissing your entire body, you would let your hands run free. He'd end up looking like 10 cats attacked him after the session was over. He'd actually be proud of the scratches on his face thinking they display how much you hate yet can't resist him.
Take any chance you get to spit on his face. Aggressively. Dominantly. And he licks it right up like a dog- eyes crazed and mesmerized by how you take control.
Shidou's procedure of intercourse involved pain in tolerable forms. He loved loved loved twisting and assaulting your nipples. He'd bite them, pull at them and rub the precum from his member all over them. When he got tired of your nipples, he'd switch over to your lips and butt. He loved leaving bite marks over the tender skin of your butt, like fork marks on the skin of a pie.
He says he won't f*ck you anywhere but the butt until you fall for him, and you are pretty adamant on maintaining the hate, so your asshole gets all his creamy jizz after each session. He doesn't go easy on the ass once he finds you prepped and lubed enough. Will drill into you ruthlessly and fill you to the absolute limit until a white fountain burst out of your hole. Thanks to him, you now doubt your ability to enjoy anything but rough anal.
Will not shut up with overtly sexual statements thrown out as shrieks throughout the process. Your neighbors probably think you are rooming with a demon. Calls you his personal "cumpocket" and "the future vessel for the Shidou genes". It's fairplay since you never let go off a chance to call him a pest/parasite/mosquito right to his face as you spit on it.
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© shunshunrika's work. Don't redistribute or change without permission
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thatfeelinwhenyou · 3 months
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KINDRED — 35
It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?
smau + written (2.1k words)
❥・• episode 35 — live my life on my terms
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With the persistent urging from your concerned friends, who've been expressing their worry about your well-being, you decide to head home to freshen up and grab a few personal items before returning to the hospital, hopefully before Jungwon wakes up. The anticipation is filled with more dread than fear because you're well aware of what awaits you. As you leisurely stroll along the familiar sidewalk, you begin to mentally prepare yourself, rehearsing your comeback to the lines you expect your mother to say upon seeing you.
"This is not like you, what happened to my once-behaved daughter."
"Look at what that violent boy did to you."
"Your future is more important than some high school fling, Y/N."
In some ways, your mother has a point. You have indeed changed, but whether for the better or worse isn't something she should unilaterally decide. It's a pretty subjective matter if you think about it. True, you're no longer the academic prowess that effortlessly intimidated your peers.
In that process, however, you've gained the ability to express emotions, to breathe, and to savour the intricacies of life that are exclusive to your youth. It’s not fair and unjust for your mother to try and take those experiences away from you.
Arriving home, the familiar scent of the place wraps around you like a comforting embrace compared to the smell of bleach and cheap air fresheners. The house echoes with memories of a time when things were simpler, and you were the dutiful student everyone expected you to be. But now, as you unlock the door with the spare key hidden beneath the mat, you feel the weight of recent events pressing on your shoulders as you step through the threshold.
Your call for your mother echoes through the living room, where an eerie atmosphere hangs in the air. She’s not home.
Right, this is your home. The once-familiar haven now feels like a foreign space—from the walls adorned with academic achievements to the shelves of neatly arranged trophies, you witness a past that no longer wholly defines you.
Before heading back to the hospital, you take a moment to freshen up. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, you gather a few essentials into a bag, hoping to slip away without encountering your mother's potential reproach.
Not wanting to keep Jungwon waiting, you swiftly descend the stairs to gather the remainder of your items. You’re not even certain if Jungwon is even awake, yet an inexplicable desire relentlessly pulls you back to his side. The amusing twist is, he hasn't even formally asked you out, leaving you in suspense about how you'd respond if he did. Your relationship with Jungwon lacks clear labels, perhaps defined vaguely as "friends who kissed," but nothing more.
Rounding the corner into the living room, you're taken aback to find your mother seated stoically on the couch. The room seems to hold its breath, charged with the unspoken tension between you and her. Her eyes, weighed down by heavy bags, lock onto yours, unveiling a profound depth of concern and emotion.
As you stand at this unexpected crossroad, you know there is nothing you can do to avoid having this conversation with her. So, you decide to stand firm as you greet her.
“Didn’t think you’d be coming home so soon. Why? Did you finally realise what I meant? Did he leave you?” There she goes again with her assumptions.
You sigh as you bring your belongings up to your chest and say, “Actually, I came back to grab some stuff before going back to the hospital.”
“Hospital? Why would you go there?”
“Jungwon. He’s hurt.” With a smirk playing on her lips, your mother scoffs. “Well, that’s where you’d expect a kid who fights every day to end up, don’t you agree?”
“He got hurt because of me. Don’t speak on situations you don’t know about, Mother.”
Your mother's eyes narrow, and a snide remark escapes her lips, “Hurt because of you? Sounds like a troublemaker. You always did have a penchant for attracting problems.”
You take a deep breath, your patience tested. “He's not a troublemaker. He's someone I care about deeply, and he's going through a tough time right now. I don't need your judgment.”
The atmosphere in the room grows heavier, but you stand your ground, refusing to let her negativity seep into your convictions. Your mother, sensing your defiance, continues with her disparaging comments about Jungwon, questioning your choices and the people you associate with. Yet, with each hurtful word, you find the strength to assert your boundaries.
“I won't let you belittle him or undermine my decisions. Jungwon is important to me, and I won't allow anyone, even you, to tarnish that.”
Your mother, surprised by your assertiveness, falls silent for a moment. Your brazen defiance is a scene she hadn't expected to happen, ever. As she comes face-to-face with this newfound persona in you, an epiphany strikes her—you've grown up. Much like your father before, it dawns on her that you, too, are preparing to leave, not just physically but emotionally, for someone else.
“All I ever wanted was the best for you. Why can’t you see that, Y/N?” Her voice carries a mix of desperation and frustration, as if grappling with the reality that her daughter is becoming her own person, separate from the mould she had envisioned.
You meet her gaze with a level of maturity she didn't anticipate. “I appreciate that, Mom, but I need you to understand that what's best for me may not align with your expectations. Jungwon is going through a difficult time, and I want to be there for him.”
Your mother's eyes soften briefly, but the resistance is still there. “You're throwing away your future for someone who might not even be there for you in the long run. Your father did the same, and look where it got him.”
Your resolve remains unshaken. “I'm not Dad, and neither is Jungwon. I can't let fear dictate my choices. 'Don’t let anyone step on you'—isn’t that what you always reiterate?”
She sighs, a mixture of exasperation and resignation. “I just worry about you, Y/N. It's a tough world out there, and you're making it even harder for yourself.”
You take a moment, choosing your words carefully. “I appreciate your concern, Mom, but I need to live my life on my terms. I hope you can find a way to support that.”
As you utter those words, a poignant silence hangs in the air, carrying the weight of unspoken expectations and the subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship. The room feels charged with the acknowledgment that you are no longer the girl she once shaped to fit her ideals.
The faint sound of a clock ticking highlights the passage of time, and in that moment, you’re reminded of Jungwon laying on the hospital bed, possibly waiting for you. You cast one last look at your mother, her eyes reflecting a blend of worry, bittersweet nostalgia, and a mother's unconditional love, before turning to walk out the door.
As you are about to leave, you catch sight of your phone, untouched and nestled atop the shelf for your taking. Your mother remains silent, watching as you pocket the device, likely lost in her own thoughts. The door closes behind you, marking a departure not only from the house but also from the expectations that have bound you for so long. The next chapter of your life is unfolding, and you’re determined to face it with courage and authenticity, even if it means challenging the expectations of those closest to you.
You can't help but ponder how things might be different the next time you step foot in this house, or if there will be any change at all. Perhaps, despite your earnest expressions, the essence of the house will persist, unaffected by the sentiments you shared today.
Yet, you consciously push these musings aside, acknowledging that worrying about potential outcomes serves no purpose at this moment. Instead, your attention pivots to the immediate present—your journey back to the hospital, where Jungwon patiently awaits your return
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It's late morning when you stroll back into the hospital. Jungwon is already out of bed, looking way more refreshed than he did the night before, but your heart aches when you see the brusies covering his otherwise perfect features. As he catches sight of you, his eyes light up, as if the whole world suddenly brightened with your presence.
The vibe between you and Jungwon is undeniable, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others in the room who voluntarily exits to give you two space. Well, everyone except Jay, who has to be pulled out of the ward by Sunoo, giving you a cheeky wink before closing the door.
“Hey there, I was looking for you.”
“I know.” You slide into the seat beside him on the tiny hospital bed, a space Jungwon graciously made for you. Stretching your legs out, you playfully nudge his feet with yours. You feel his gaze on you, intense and longing, as if he senses something weighing on your mind and is patiently waiting for you to open up.
“I had a chat with my mom earlier today.” He stays silent, listening attentively as you continue, “It was a much-needed conversation, but now I'm worried that I might have said some things that hurt her. I just can’t shake it off my mind.”
You look to him, seeking advice. Jungwon's eyes soften, and he reaches out to gently hold your hand. “You did what you had to do, Y/N. Your feelings matter too.”
He squeezes your hand reassuringly, offering a small, understanding smile. “If there's anything I've learned from all this, it's that you can't control how others react. You can only be true to yourself and hope they understand eventually.”
Leaning against the side of the bed, you let out a sigh. “I hope she does, Jungwon. I don't want to hurt her, but I also can't keep suppressing my own feelings.”
Jungwon nods in compassion, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “Give it time, Y/N. Emotions take a while to settle. In the meantime, I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I’ve got you.” His support warms your heart, and with a grateful smile, you rest your head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence.
Jungwon’s words resonate as you recognise the profound truth in the realisation that changing someone's entire mindset is no quick fix—it's a gradual process that takes time and unconditional efforts.
As you contemplate these thoughts, you come to accept that, even with all the time in this world, certain aspects may remain unaltered. It's a reality that demands compromise, a delicate balance of understanding and being understood. You acknowledge the concept of mutual comprehension without the imposition of force, hoping that, in time, your mother will come to understand that too.
As your mind grapples with a flurry of thoughts, Jungwon is also caught in a whirlwind of emotions, his attention laser-focused on the spot where your head rests on his shoulder. It’s evident you’re not the only one pondering the line between you two, and contemplating the boundaries you have crossed as 'friends'.
In this quiet moment shared in the hospital room, Jungwon turns to you, and his eyes reveal a warmth that speaks volumes. The air around you changes, and he takes a deep breath, as though summoning the courage to express what's on his mind.
"Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet resolute, "there's something I've been wanting to ask." You can already sense the direction this conversation is going, yet you decide not to hold him to any expectations just in case it doesn’t.
"I've been thinking a lot about us, about what we are," he continues, the sincerity in his voice echoing in the room. “And if what happened yesterday didn’t already make it clear to me, it is now. I like you, a lot.”
“Y/N, will you let me be boyfriend?”
The vulnerability in his question, the openness in his eyes, tugs at something deep within you. A mixture of emotions swirls in your chest and you take a moment to savour the weight of his words and the unspoken connection that has brought you to this juncture.
The hospital room, with its muted sounds and sterile surroundings is a stark contrast to the little bubble that the two of you are in. Your heartbeat syncs with the soft hum of machinery, creating an anticipative symphony that accompanies the unfolding scene. Finally, a soft smile plays on your lips as you reply,
"And will you let me be your girlfriend, Jungwon?”
The soft kiss that ensued undoubtedly sealed the deal.
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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡
authors note: i have nothing to say but sorry… 😔 also this chapter is dedicated to user beomsbeanie, not sure if you’ll see this but if you do, tysm! you have blessed my life too 🫶 side note: KINDRED IS ALMOST COMING TO AN END!
perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee @hueningcry @fakeuwus
taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @jayhoonvroom @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @hoey2k @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @beomsbeanie @sloobydooburmomjungwon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @en-flirt @i-yeseo @aloloveswonie @plutoslostagain
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yoru-no-seiiki · 9 months
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YANDERE ! EREN JAEGER X READER HEADCANNONS
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TW/CW: mdni, yandere themes, masturbation.
Have some headcannons while I wait for my henna to dry/watch the first season with my cousin.
I wish there were more who wrote for Canon! Eren. Like don’t get me wrong, Modern AU Eren is hot but I mean, fuckboys can be seen everywhere.
But Canon! Eren is batshit insane and that’s exactly what I love about him. I wish they at least add that to his modern counterpart instead of making him a basic bad boy but I mean if that’s what they’re into 🤷‍♂️
Anyways Exhibit A of why Eren in all eras is my fave AOT character:
Like I said, he’s batshit insane.
He has directly killed 2 people by the age of nine, and assisted in killing the third. Although this is out of self defense it still can’t be denied HOW HE TReateD THE SECOND DUDE HOLY SHIT- THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE STABBED HIM.
Normal kids would just be terrified, maybe be even fight blinding and/or cry, probably even run tf away. But ya boi brought a knife and even deceived the person at the door.
EXHIBIT B:
He’d be a great yandere.
Let’s say that we age up our cast and make 18 the minimum age of enlistment (making him 21 around the attack of Trost).
Trainee Eren has the will of fucking steel. He’ll do whatever it takes to wipe out titan-kind, to make the cruel world he lived in finally know true peace.
To be with you in that new world he’ll build.
You were one of his fellow trainees. Someone who unconditionally believed and supported his desire to see the outside world. You didn’t treat him like a child as Mikasa did, and you weren’t so oddly distant when it came to his help and presence like Armin.
At first it started as a crush. An infatuation towards your looks and kind demeanor which morphed into a twisted sense of love.
You were the only one that understood him, that resonated with his wavelength.
He definitely frequently masturbated to your image. Stress was a known issue amongst trainees and soldiers alike. Many drank to rid themselves of such a problem. But to him just the thought of you two becoming one gave him relief and pleasure that any form of alcohol could never give. In the aftermath of the Trost incident, when faced with your unconscious, battered body he pulls a Shinji and jerks one off. Covering you with his release.
You think you’ll leave his mind once he gets busy with being a titan-shifter and the future of Eldia and such but nope.
Eren only has you and the new world he promised in his heart, body and soul. And that’ll never change.
EXHIBIT C:
Eren believes in freedom first and foremost.
So none of that kidnapping. At least in earlier years. He just wants you to be happy and safe. He’s more of the type to hurt others for your sake rather than be abusive and take away your rights.
Eren in later seasons has the capacity to keep you isolated, and that he will.
Like in other (unfortunately rare) fics of him, he keeps you in a farm land with a bunch of loyalists. If reader is afab! or has the ability to bear a child (for those with abo ocs or something idk) he’ll tell them that you are bearing his child and the future inheritor of his powers.
Otherwise he’ll come up with other excuses like having you as a tactician or war-hero they have to pay respects to.
He’ll give you as much freedom as he can provide while keeping you away from danger.
Though one might argue that his version of freedom for you is just an illusion.
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animehouse-moe · 10 months
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Mobile Suit Gundam - The Witch From Mercury S2 Episode 8: The End of Hope
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So, last episode was violence on earth, and this episode is violence in space! What do we call that? A cycle! That's right. Good old Gundam, perpetuating violence through one sided fixations on the other's wrongdoings, which is perfectly personified through Shaddiq in this episode. Lots of stuff to talk about for sure!
This episode is interesting in that sense, it's less methodic and progress focused than the previous, almost catching you off guard as you shift from the norm towards combat. Regardless of that though, Shaddiq is a total piece of work through it all. It's pretty incredible.
The Earthian boy that allowed space to get to his head. Shaddiq was an orphan from Earth who worked his way up through Grassley to get a spot at Astacassia, and is now using it "to his advantage" to bring equality and power back to the hands of Earthians. What he doesn't, and will probably never realize, is that he's only serving to exacerbate it by perpetuating exactly what his adoptive forefathers did. In a terrible twist of fate, all Shaddiq is able to do is dirty the lives of others. He forces Guel to kill his own father to survive, he forces Miorine to dirty her hands because she doesn't want to be owned by Shaddiq, and he ruins the lives of such an innumerable amount of people that you can't begin to quantify it. All because he wants to bring peace and equality to Earth. But he can never understand his actions. He could never understand what it's like to kill your own father, what it's like to watch on as violence is incurred in your name. And this episode illustrates that incredible well, that Shaddiq is a Spacian, more than any of these other characters he despises, as his words completely betray him.
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His entire existence is centered around his ability to bring their own lives back into the hands of Earthians, but he entirely misses the point. All he does is take advantage of. He takes, and takes, and takes some more, and offers nothing but hellfire and brimstone to the people that he wants to help. He brings oppression, violence, sanctions, all manner of terrible fates to the people he cares about, because the scope of his desire is so narrow. He wants to erase the past that he existed in, rather than focus on the future moving forward. In that sense, he plays a very solid second fiddle to Prospera (and raises up Guel even more, which I'll touch on later), as their foolish grasp on history blinds them to the atrocities that they commit in their names.
Just a quick little interlude here as the grounds of Astacassia are under attack during Guel and Shaddiq's fight. I thought this was a really great piece to appear in it. Miorine's tomato greenhouse was destroyed. Not by gundvolvas or even Norea herself, but someone defending Astacassia from her. What a sad, sad fate. A peaceful existence, quashed not by the enemy, but the people she might even call allies. Such a throwaway piece, but one that speaks to the boundless and senseless act of violence. To how inescapable it can be, to both sides of the conflict.
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Anyways, back to Guel and his hubris. The sheer mockery that is his existence is palpable. "If you didn't get expelled from the school, if you didn't try to make things right and help out Plant Quetta during a terrorist attack, if you didn't try to thwart my plans, your father would still be alive, if you didn't fight to be a better person, my Miorine would still be clean.". Shaddiq embodies more selfishness than Guel could ever manage to muster in his existence. Even as the self-centered Holder of Astacassia, he could never stoop to the depths that Shaddiq inhabits.
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And that's illustrated perfectly here. Shaddiq blames everybody around him for everything that has happened to him. Despite being the leading son of the Grassley House. Despite having the tools to change the world at his fingertips if he so wanted. He believes he needs to deliver power to the Earthians, through terror and violence that incurs the wrath of Spacians. Despite the peaceful approach that Gund-ARM desired, despite the wishes and fears of Guel, at each step he has refused to use his power, and relies on that of the group. He relies on their reactions to violence, he relies on the hatred of Spacians by the inhabitants of Earth. He only uses his power to take from those around him, and in turn drags them further into this abyss.
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Then there's this moment. This line from Shaddiq. The sheer hubris of it is hilarious. And Guel destroys it right away.
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The difference in wording speaks volumes. Shaddiq could only ever acknowledge what he's doing. He can sit and there and say, "I did some bad things for the sake of Earthians", and immediately, he absolves himself of it because of why he did it. Guel, on the other hand, chooses to carry that weight with him for the rest of his life. The inescapable burden of his father's death, of that girl dying in his arms, of his inaction and what it's led to. He refuses to justify his sins in the bigger picture. And that dissonance extends to the girls around Shaddiq, as they speak of "silver spoons" while piloting their top of the line Gundams, as they sortie from the incredibly exclusive and highly expensive Astacassia school ran by Spacians.
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Then there's this last part from Guel is just outstanding. Given the context of Shaddiq and his crew being out for blood, Guel's effort in bringing in the Grassley House unharmed just further widens the ocean's width between the two characters. I especially love it because it speaks to exactly what I was saying so far about Shaddiq, and because it's Guel's version of the words that Suletta gave him.
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And to finish off the Shaddiq content of this episode, we have Sarius. His forced passivity through this all, in concert with this comment, speak volumes to his feelings of it. He's lived through this before, he's experienced similar issues and challenges, and he knows where this path will lead to. But in the end, he remained powerless and oblivious to the plight of his son. It's rather depressing to see the resignation on his face at his failure in raising Shaddiq.
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Now then, we can move onto Norea and Elan! What an interesting pair, I do think that Norea's character is a bit overblown than need be for he purpose, but there's still plenty of great moments. I really like how despite her hatred of mobile suits and Gundams, the only thing that she thinks she has left is to pilot them. Through her short life, all she could do at the end of it was fight, she could never find a way to run, to leave behind those feelings of hatred and resentment for the life that she was forced into.
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And Elan can't help but intervene. The Elan that would only ever run away, only ever fight to preserve his own life, is drawn to Norea. Forced to pilot for the sake of others, relinquishing their chances at a normal life because of the selfishness of Spacians, the pair find common ground in losing their lives and passions to capitalist money machine that is the Benerit Group. I think it's a really great and emotional moment, to bring the puppet of a clone of Peil Technologies, and the child soldier of the Dawn of Fold together in their desire to flee their lives and discover something outside of their current existences. Sadly, this Elan has his chance, but Norea's fate has already been sealed due to her actions.
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Finally, we arrive at the end of the conflict. A mass of rubble and bodies litter the ground from the conflict as we find Suletta on her own moving earth to try and help the people beneath it. I think it's a really important piece, both in regards to Suletta and the relations between Earthians and Spacians at Astacassia. Though they're meant to be cogs in the cycle of perpetuated violence and control, some of the students at this school have found ways to connect with one another past the boundaries of Earth and Space. Working together to defend Astacassia, or helping save injured students, or removing those trapped from the rubble. It speaks to the passion and desire to good that the Earthians aboard Astacassia have spread and infected those around them with. Alongside Suletta, they've broken the curse of Prospera's words, and in doing so, have helped free Suletta. Without Aerial, without her mother or Miorine or any of the other crutches that brought her this far, she remains in the dark, with bloodied and bruised hands, searching for life amidst the destruction.
It's an astoundingly good GWitch episode, and moves the characters forward in incredible ways. Shaddiq's hubris arrives at his doorstep as Guel find vindication in bringing him to justice, while Norea makes peace with the life that was stolen from her that Elan carries onwards, and Suletta and the Earth house continue their calling of peace and helping others even in spite of the atrocity that was committed in the name of their company.
The cycle of violence leaves nobody untouched, but it doesn't mean you must succumb to it. This episode speaks to that greatly. That you are justified in your hate and resentment for what life has done for you, but that you also hold the tools within your own hands to change that. To rally against it and make a difference, to speak out against those actions and to fight to find ways to break that cycle. Whether it's within the scope of the school you go to, or the whole of humanity.
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