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#Estate Expulsion
autumnslance · 18 days
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Blacklist Improvements in FFXIV!
Enhanced Blacklist Functionality (removes the player model!)
Mute List
Term Filter (applies to most channels in most circumstances)
Estate Expulsion
Enhanced Lodestone Privacy Settings
These will apply across the offending player's account, though note many of them are stored client-side in some cases.
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every now and then I just spontaneously remember that Arkk exists and that he was coded as a member of Scarlet's Army for reasons left entirely unexplained and I just go. huh.
#my posts#GW2#Guild Wars 2#arkk fascinates me for many many reasons tbh#aside from him being another entertaining antagonist with funny dialogue he's just. interesting.#there's an inherent tragedy to characters that are doomed by the narrative not just once but eternally#it's not enough that he can never win. he can also never stop trying and failing endlessly forever. he hasn't just lost he is Always Losing#every time he thinks it's the first time but the truth is he's already been dead in all the ways that matter for a long long time.#he's a ghost that will never find peace because his grave is a recording that will replay continuously until the universe itself unravels.#man. his plot arc is short but surprisingly compelling for what it is. i still think about it a lot tbh#anyway hcing that he knew Scarlet/Ceara at some point and that's why he's in her 'army' for coding purposes#you would've thought they'd make him like. inquest. but nope they did that and I still wonder what the thinking was tbh#timeline-wise it'd probably make the most sense if he was already in the Inquest building up a debt by the time she joined there#with his departure into the Mists most likely taking place sometime shortly after her expulsion from Rata Sum#i need to think about him and Dessa more tbh (especially since they're both core characters at the Turnabout... haha...)#you thought I was just kidnapping Mai Trin? joke's on YOU I adopt EVERY character that canon leaves in the dumpster#and they didn't do anything with finding the 'real' Dessa or Arkk in SotO so I doubt they ever will. which means... mine now.#it's free real estate! stuffs them both in a bag and carries them away never to be seen or heard from again
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dostoyevsky-official · 6 months
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Investor Storms Jerusalem Patriarchate Garden in Defiance of Real Estate Deal Cancelation
The investor who sought to lease 25 percent of the Armenian Quarter of Jerusalem has ignored a letter by the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem cancelling the controversial real estate deal and has started demolition, the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem warned Monday. [...] “Yesterday they even brought security guards armed with high powered rifles and tactically trained dogs demanding an evacuation of Armenians from the parking lot. As a reaction to this, the Armenian Patriarch of Jerusalem, members of the St. James Brotherhood, and members of the Armenian community, gathered in the Armenian Gardens and peacefully expressed their discontent. After a few hours, the two sides agreed to disperse until the Patriarchate receives an answer to their sent cancellation letter,” the Chancellery added. [...] Danny Rothman and George Warwar, representatives of Xana Capital, backed with about 15 armed settlers and attack dogs, demanded the expulsion of Armenians, calling it their land. Warwar threatened the community, exclaiming that he’ll “get them one by one.”
a good question for anyone defending israel is why are settlers seizing the land of christian armenians in jerusalem, who have had an unbroken presence in the city since the 4th century, have not fought against israelis, and have no connection to hamas, the PLO, or any other militant groups
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ichorai · 5 months
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stitch ; coriolanus snow.
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pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; and he clearly wasn’t thinking straight, because his feet didn’t bring him back to his own filthy, dirty, rat-infested home. he brought himself to your winged estate, gardened and manicured and polished to perfection.
words ; 8.7k
themes ; angst, action, mild fluff
warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, foul language, lucky being lucky, a lot of kisses, coryo's paranoia, he's much more toxic this chapter someone pls save reader (aka doomed by the narrative), i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3
a/n ; thank you for all the support on this series so far! if i've planned this out right, there will be two more parts coming after this one!
series masterlist. main masterlist.
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Considering you survived numerous explosions and a metal-pipe lodged in your abdomen, you weren’t looking all that bad. Though you were still badly aching, the injuries you had sustained during the bombings strayed away from your face, save for a few small cuts and bruises that would heal in no time. It made it easy for you to pretend like everything was okay as you donned a crisp, ironed, academy uniform. A new one, that wasn’t stained with your blood and the arena’s dust.
All the doctors had advised you to stay at the hospital to rest and recover. But with the games starting in mere hours… you couldn’t leave Wovey alone. You made a promise, and you intended to keep it.
After surprisingly little begging, your mother caved and signed the release forms for you, on the condition that you’d stay on a wheelchair for the entire duration of the games—or until you were fully healed. Whichever came first. 
Coriolanus came early that morning, looking more tired than the last time you saw him, and promised your mother that he’d take care of you with a charming smile. He kissed your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw, before wheeling you off to the academy. The warm, fresh wind was refreshing against your face, billowing your hair to and fro.
“I gave her rat poison,” Coriolanus said as he pushed you along. 
The suddenness of his words startled you into a flabbergasted silence. You stared straight ahead for a few moments, lips screwing to the side, trying your best to remain calm. Then, you gritted out, “What in Panem made you think that was a good idea? If Highbottom finds out… it’ll be over for you, Coryo. That’ll be grounds for worse than expulsion.”
“Lucy Gray has to win. She can’t—on her own. I had to give her something.” Coriolanus’ hands flexed on the handles of the wheelchair. 
“I can’t cover for you forever, Coryo,” you whispered, words almost lost to the wind. But he heard.
He narrowed his pale eyes at the back of your head. “You won’t tell, will you?” There was a biting edge to his tone.
“You’re an idiot if you think I would.” You pressed a hand over your bandaged abdomen, obscured by the vibrant red fabric. “Besides—if you go down, I’d go down with you. With enough secrets of yours I bite down on… that makes me an accomplice, too.”
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Lucky Flickerman’s eyes were wide as saucers when you showed up to the academy in a wheelchair. He fluttered over to you with a reporter following close behind him, shoving a camera into your face. You loved him, truly, but it was hard to tell apart the Lucky that appeared in front of cameras and the real Lucky your mother was best friends with. A myriad of questions fell from the mustached man’s mouth, and you only managed to answer one and a half of them before Sejanus appeared, and Lucky turned to him to ask him questions about his missing tribute.
With a roll of his eyes, Coriolanus pushed you down a ramp (one that hadn’t been there until just a few hours ago, when they heard news of you coming in a wheelchair), and settled you in front of a monitor with your name on it, in the middle of the rows of seats. His was by the very edge, much to both of your dismay.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he told you, enveloping one of your hands in both of his. He kneeled down in front of you so he’d be at eye-level.
You nodded, but pursed your lips. “Why did you tell me? About the…” You trailed off, worried someone would overhear. But he knew what you were talking about—the rat poison.
He tried his best to give you a genuine smile, nudging his knuckles beneath your chin. They felt cold against your skin—a stark contrast to what the wind outside had felt like. “It’s like you said, isn’t it? Enough secrets of mine you hoard, the more you’re tethered to me.”
You couldn’t quite tell if he was joking. Your lips parted, but no words left your tongue.
Dipping forward, he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Let’s hope this is over quickly.”
Let’s hope they all die quick, he might as well have said.
“Mmh,” you told him, sparing something akin to a smile. Though, it might’ve looked more like a grimace. Coriolanus’ head was far too preoccupied to notice. You felt sick, and glanced around at all the other students who were taking their seats. Lucky was making his way to the front to get some final touch-ups, flashing you an encouraging wink.
A minute later, he waved away the makeup artists and brandished a microphone from thin air. You almost rolled your eyes—his amateur magic tricks were certainly getting better and better.
“Okay, everyone, places! We’re about to go live! Just because we’re not hosting doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Help me out here, alright? Don’t get lost behind your screens. No yawning, no gum-chewing—keep your chins down, heads up, shoulders back, people! And—do remember to smile. It’s why we have teeth.”
Lucky began grinning from ear-to-ear as a demonstration. 
His teeth are far too white for his face, Coriolanus thought as he settled into his seat. A shade brighter and I’d surely go blind.
With a hand raised, Lucky began counting down with his fingers. He announced himself with his usual charming flair—and when the music started thrumming, low and ominous, he began wishing everyone a happy Hunger Games, before rushing off to stand behind all the students. 
The large screen in the center of the theater lit up with a shot of the tributes walking into the arena. Several dozens of smaller screens surrounding it gave the students a wide plethora of different angles. 
Your throat went dry upon seeing Wovey and Lucy Gray emerge from the entrance tunnel holding hands. They smiled at each other—one of the smaller cameras managed to catch it just perfectly—all soft and encouraging. Peacekeepers pushed the two onward with the barrels of their guns and they were forced to separate. 
“Stand on your marks or you will be shot,” the announcement system buzzed.
Some of the tributes sobbed. Some of them hardened with determination.
The cameras panned around—until one of them landed on a hanging body, strung up by bloody ropes. Your eyes widened when you recognized him as Sejanus’ tribute.
Was he dead?
His chest gave a hunkering breath, though shallow and wheezy, and you dreaded to think about how much pain he must’ve been in. 
“Guess we can all sleep better now knowing he’s off the streets,” Lucky said into the microphone. The audience of students behind you burst into sporadic cheers and bouts of laughter.
This must’ve been the last straw for Sejanus, as he got up from his desk and just about chucked the entire monitor across the theater. It fell against the stage with several clutters and thunks. Many of the students nearby flinched. 
“YOU’RE MONSTERS!” he screamed, face wrought with anguish. “ALL OF YOU!”
With that, he stormed out. Perhaps if you weren’t confined to your wheelchair or in a great amount of pain you would’ve followed him, you thought. But maybe you were just making excuses for yourself.
Sejanus was a brave man with a rash head. You were neither brave nor rash.
Lucky began to count down again. And just as he reached one, a loud, buzzer-like sound rang through the arena. Echoed into the theater from the monitors.
The tributes began running every which way. You had your eyes fixed on Wovey. At first, she seemed to jaggedly step towards the center, where a selection of weapons were laid out. But she thought better of it once she saw all the commotion and scuttled back to the rows of seats as fast as she could. She climbed and climbed, and your chest was heavy with the idea of her falling, or of someone following her. Nobody did, thankfully.
There you go, sweetheart. Hide.
The last you saw of Wovey was the top of her small head before she disappeared behind the dusty seats. Good.
Then, you turned your attention to Lucy Gray, running around and screaming for Jessup. You briefly glanced back at Coriolanus, who was looking incredibly tense. His entire face seemed to be set into a deep frown.
What is she doing? he mouthed, mostly to himself. Run!
Immediately, buzzes rang out through the theater as tributes were slowly eliminated and disappointed students got up from their seats. You tried your best to avert your eyes from all the blood and gore. The screams, however, you couldn’t escape. A girl three seats away from you puked all over the floor, much to Lucky’s irritation.
To your relief, Lucy Gray managed to find Jessup amidst the chaos, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the hole in the ground—into the tunnels. A few angry tributes were following after them at a worryingly quick pace. Lucky made a rather smug comment about the gamemakers being prepared enough to have security cameras installed in every nook and cranny, even after the bombing “disruption”. 
You let out a large breath you didn’t realize you were holding in when Lucy Gray managed to crawl into a room through a flap in the door, Jessup hot on her heels. The tributes cursed and yelled, but no one dared follow in after the two in fear of getting hurt while trying to get in.
“Thirteen tributes remain,” announced Lucky. He looked to you and gave you a wink. “Reaper still looming large on top of the charts while Coral and her pack try to make a play. Little Wovey has done an excellent job of scaling the broken columns and hiding beneath what’s left of the seats. Let’s hope we see her soon.”
You glanced at your monitor. There were options to send her food or water if need be. But not yet. You had to be resourceful with the donations you had.
“Six tributes gone in minutes. If they keep it up at this pace… we’re going to be out of here in no time.”
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Many hours passed. It was incredibly quiet for a long time—save for Lucky moving off to the side to do some reporting of the weather. Some students even fell asleep by their monitors. 
You were growing tired too, lids heavy with exhaustion and head bobbing up and down a few times. You tried to keep yourself awake, paranoid that something could happen to Wovey if you were to accidentally doze off. To your relief, you snapped awake when a hand rested on your shoulder and Coriolanus kneeled down beside you, offering a bottle of water. It felt wrong to be drinking at your leisure when the tributes were probably parched right now. 
You took the bottle with a grateful mutter of thanks and took a hefty swig.
“How are you feeling? Your wounds okay?” His hand moved up to gently smooth over the back of your head.
“I think so,” you replied, before grimacing. “I don’t like watching this, Coryo. I never have.”
“I’m sorry,” he offered. “I can take you back, if you want. To the hospital.”
“No. I have to stay,” you protested. He seemed relieved at this, not keen on leaving any time soon. 
With a curt nod, he gestured back to his own seat. “Just—let me know if you need anything.”
“You should focus on your tribute, Coriolanus,” you told him, brushing the back of your fingers along his jaw.
“My tribute didn’t have a metal pipe sticking out of her a day ago,” he whispered. “You’re priority number one. You always will be.”
“Well, I’m fine. Lucy Gray, however, is much more at risk,” you replied airily. “If my Wovey can’t win… I’d really rather see her alive.”
Those pale eyes of his searched yours.
“I love you,” he said. It was abrupt and sounded as if someone was strangling it out of him.
“I love you, too. Get back to your seat before Highbottom finds a way to get mad at you,” you told him. With a pointed jerk back to his seat, you heavily emphasized, “Again.”
With a squeeze of your shoulder (you tried your best not to grimace, since he pressed right against a large bruise on your collarbone), he rose back to full height and headed back to his monitor. 
The arena was still silent, even an hour later. Just as you were beginning to seriously consider taking a nap, there came a rustling from the rubble. Lamina, the other district two tribute, rose from behind a large stone slab, and approached the hanging Marcus.
His blood from all the exposed wounds he’d acquired had slowly dripped down his body and formed a frighteningly sizable, semi-dried puddle down below. It was a wonder how he hadn’t already succumbed to his wounds. 
Lamina climbed up the broken stone columns to make her way to him. There were several dried tear tracks on her face, and her nose was very red. Lamina stroked Marcus’ head, and he seemed to jerk alive with her touch. His chest rose and fell in a broken, staggering motion. 
“Please…” he croaked. “Please…” 
He dissolved into gentle sobs.
When Lamina raised her hatchet, you tore your eyes away and looked downward. There came a sick squelch as she struck him and the audience gasped. Lamina cut at his bonds and watched his body crumple down to the ground. Donations for Lamina began to steadily climb higher.
Pup Harrington, Lamina’s mentor, decided to take it upon himself to be the first one to send his tribute a drone with water. Dread settled the pit of your stomach when the drone buzzed in through the broken rooftop of the arena—but it didn’t seem to slow down. No, it only accelerated faster and faster the closer it got. Lamina gave a little shriek and ducked just in time—the drone crashed into the stone column and exploded into a thousand metal parts. The glass water bottle fell down below and shattered by Marcus’ now-dead body.
How were you supposed to send Wovey water now? Perhaps you’d send her food instead—that way, it wouldn’t shatter and go to waste if it hit anything. You scrolled through the options on your monitor. Apples would be a good choice. Plenty of water in them. But you held back—Wovey might’ve been asleep underneath those seats.
A few more hours passed by, slipping well into nightfall. You took a vial of prescribed morphling from your bag and downed it in one go. You could feel it buzzing through your system almost immediately, numbing the sting of your still-healing wounds. It just so happened that Highbottom swept down the steps then, eyeing you behind those spectacles of his. You shuddered and leaned your head down onto the table. The drugs were making you incredibly sleepy.
Highbottom stopped just behind Coriolanus. “You can’t save her by watching,” he murmured to his most loathsome student. “What do you want from that girl?”
“Nothing,” the blonde gritted out. “I want her to live.”
“Mmh. And the Plinth Prize would be a happy coincidence, I suppose.”
Coriolanus’ eyes squinted at nothing in particular. “I believe I’d be entitled to it.”
“Of course you do,” Highbottom retorted, tone heavy with condescension. “And who do you think makes the final decision for the prize you so covet, Mr. Snow? Wake up. Even if Lucy Gray Baird somehow wins it all, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don’t see a single dime. So… ask yourself this: how much do you care if she lives now?”
Coriolanus was gripping his hands into fists so tight that they turned a ghostly-white.
“And I know… if the young and talented Y/N wins that prize… it’ll go straight to you. Isn’t that right?” Highbottom’s lips twitched in amusement when Coriolanus stiffened. “So it seems that neither of you will be seeing that prize, Mr. Snow.”
His jaw twitched, and he snapped his head to the scowling dean. “You can’t punish them because of me. That’s not fair. Y/N doesn’t deserve that.”
Highbottom let out a gruff laugh, quiet enough for nobody to notice. Mostly everyone had gone home or was asleep, anyway. “It’s not like Y/N would have won anyway—not with that quiet little runt. Kid was doomed from the very start. Take a good look in front of you, boy. Take a look at those tributes—and then you come and tell me what’s fair.”
The very last word was practically spat at him. The dean turned on his heel and marched off. 
Still, hours passed by silently. Lucky was clearly growing agitated with the fact that things were moving so slowly. He’d already had to cancel two dinner appointments.
When Volumnia Gaul stepped into the academy, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders, you were already half-awake. She stood beside you menacingly, and you startled into full alert with a small noise of surprise, the bright blue of one of her eyes boring right into you. She said your name then, all low and elongated. You could barely suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. Still groggy, your blurry peripheral vision told you that practically every one had retired for the night. Save for a few straggler students and, of course, Coryo. You noticed, with muted interest, that every single screen was frozen on an image of the Panem crest, rather than the security camera footage inside the arena.
“I can smell the morphling on you,” she muttered, brows raised. “You should go home. Get some rest. Change those bandages of yours.”
You glanced down at your abdomen—a grimace made its way onto your face when you noticed that your uniform (new, mind you), was stained with a fresh bout of blood. You’d bled through your bandages. With a frown, you uneasily swallowed. It didn’t seem like Dr. Gaul was going to accept no for an answer.
“I, uh—” She noticed the way you began to angle yourself to Coriolanus. He’d fallen asleep by his monitor, in a similar fashion to you.
Her mouth pursed in mock-sympathy. “Coriolanus wants to stay. Watch over his songbird. I suggest you find someone else to wheel you back home.”
Your lips parted in surprise. A part of you wanted to protest, but you were far too tired to argue. “I can get myself home,” you told her. “Good night, Dr. Gaul.”
A creaky, amused titter fell from her throat. “Your little one is good at hiding. A shame she’s not going to make it.”
A wave of nausea rolled over you. You determinedly fixed your gaze on the ground and began to push yourself out of the academy. Volumnia watched you go with narrowed eyes. Once she was sure you were gone, she made her way to Coriolanus. 
The boy had a job to do.
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Bobbin’s blood was still all over his hands. Dried, now. Dark with time. Dr. Gaul stitched up the gash on his left shoulder blade—he wondered if you had been in this much pain when you woke up in the hospital. But it was different, because he was slashed by a little boy, and you fell onto a metal pipe. Coriolanus wasn’t sure which one was better. 
Not that it was a competition. It was all Sejanus’ fault anyway, he concluded.
He had wanted to sprinkle bread crumbs on his dead tribute’s body. What a waste.
Once Dr. Gaul had sent him off back home with his wound tightly bound, he staggered out with a heavy chest and tear-stained cheeks.
And he clearly wasn’t thinking straight, because his feet didn’t bring him back to his own filthy, dirty, rat-infested home. He brought himself to your winged estate, gardened and manicured and polished to perfection. 
This should be mine, he thought. I should have this. I deserve this.
And then, another irrational thought crossed his mind as he rang the doorbell. 
It will be mine.
The doors swung open—which mildly surprised him, considering it was very late at night—and your mother peeked her head out. She eyed him with part confusion, part surprise. Then, she caught sight of the blood on his hands. The door widened to let him through. 
Almost immediately when he stepped in, your mother roped him into a warm embrace. He inhaled and choked on air. And then, he dissolved into a fit of wracking sobs. She crooned and stroked her hand along the back of his head.
“What’s this, Coriolanus? Whose blood is this?”
He hiccuped and drew in a staggered breath. “It’s… mine. I got into a fight with a classmate about the Games. It got violent and bloody—Dr. Gaul fixed me up.” He emphasized a wince and gestured to the wound on his shoulder. He let your mother fuss over him, demanding to take a look at the gash. Reluctant, he unbuttoned his uniform again to let her see.
It seemed the commotion was enough to wake you up, because you had limped to the top of the grand staircase with sleepy eyes and messy hair. 
Once your mother caught sight of you out of bed, she pulled away from Coriolanus to chastise you, but her words fell on deaf ears. You mumbled out your boyfriend’s name in confusion, before leaning heavily against the bannister to slowly step down, wincing with the movement. 
Coriolanus was quick to move upstairs, meeting you near the top, as you had only managed to descend a handful while he jogged to you. He cupped your face first, smoothing his thumbs over your jaw the way he always did. And when you spread your arms, he just about fell into you, his nose dropping down to the junction between your neck and your shoulder. His entire form trembled with his cries, muffled into your skin. 
It was as if he’d been reduced to a child all over again. Eating paste, salty with his tears of hunger. 
“Coryo,” you whispered, gripping at his waist. “Coryo, please tell me what’s going on. You’re worrying me.”
He hesitantly withdrew his damp face away from your neck. “Can we… talk privately?”
With pursed lips, you looked down to your mother at the bottom of the staircase.
She cleared her throat tiredly. “I’ll leave you two be. But no funny business, understand? Y/N needs to recover.”
With a serious stare in Coriolanus’ direction, she turned and marched off to the Northern wing.
“Come on,” you told him. “Let’s go to my room.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, rubbing the space between his brows. His arm wrapped over your waist to help you up the few steps. “It’s so late, and I just barged in and interrupted your sleep—”
“Coryo, you’re covered in blood. Sleep is the last thing on my mind.”
Once in your room, you shut the door and leaned against it. Coriolanus made his way to your bed and sat on it, face buried into his hands.
“Does this have something to do with Dr. Gaul?” you asked, watching him with keen eyes. 
His head snapped up and he regarded you curiously. “How’d you know?” 
“She told me to leave. And all the screens were… frozen.” With slow steps, you limped across your room to sit right beside him. “Whose blood is that?”
Coriolanus was silent for a long while. So long that you wondered if he even heard your question at all.
“Don’t—don’t hate me. I need you.”
“I won’t hate you. I love you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Stop it, Coryo. You don’t get to decide whether I l—”
“It was Bobbin.” He effectively cut you off, rendering you speechless. “I killed him.”
You stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “The… the district eight boy?” With each passing second, your eyes grew larger and—wetter. Coriolanus had to turn away. “You were in the arena? Dr. Gaul made you… oh, Coryo.”
“Sejanus went in to see his friend.” The last word was sneered out in a rather demeaning manner. “The tributes started attacking us. I… I hit Bobbin with a rock.”
He left out the gorey details. How he kept bashing Bobbin’s head in even after his body stopped twitching. How it felt… powerful. 
“It was self defense, then,” you murmured, drawing closer to brush your lips against his shoulder, just above his sutures.
It was, at first. And then it… wasn’t. Coriolanus pursed his lips. 
“Bobbin… he was Wovey’s friend, I think.” Your voice wavered, and you blinked away the tears that welled up in your eyes. “I hope she’s okay.”
Coriolanus said nothing as he frowned. He didn’t like how much you cared for her, no matter how much of a hypocrite that made him. It was like Highbottom said… the kid was doomed from the very beginning.
“Are you okay?” you asked him, voice as soft as silk.
“I don’t…”
“It’s okay if you’re not. I’ll be here for you.”
“You’re too good,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re always just so… good. How do you do it?”
There was a considerable silence before you reached over to take his chin between your fingers and force him to look at you. “I’m just trying my best. And you are, too. Don’t discredit yourself, Coriolanus. You’re good for me. You always will be.”
His pale eyes flickered. Then, he kissed you. Slow and soft, begging for more but—you pulled away with a hum before he could press further against you. 
A distinct coldness fell over his expression. “You can’t tell anyone what I told you. About Bobbin.”
You studied him for a few seconds. Watched the way he folded into himself with such caution. Compartmentalize and shield the most ugly parts of himself away from you. It was a defense mechanism of sorts. You knew it all too well, and narrowed your eyes at him.
“Why do you always think that I’ll go about and tell the world everything you say to me? Do you not trust me?”
He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I do. I do, of course I do. You just—you know everything there is to know. You can destroy me completely, and it’ll be my fault because I let you in—because I let myself fall in love with you.”
Your features twisted into one of shock. “Is that what you think? That I’m seeking to destroy you? Bring you down? What—Coriolanus, why would I do that? Do you hear yourself? How many times do I have to say that I love you until you realize that I mean it?” 
“You can love me and still betray me. They’re not mutually exclusive.” There was a terse silence that stretched thick between the two of you like taffy. His brows furrowed together and he stared angrily down at the ground as he frustratedly worked his jaw. “I’m not saying you will betray me. I’m saying you could. And that… that terrifies me.”
“I won’t. You said it yourself, remember? I’m tethered to you. I’m an accomplice—I know too much,” you said, exasperated. “But there is nothing I want to take from you. I gain nothing from stabbing you in the back. I just—I want for us to be a normal fucking couple!”
Coriolanus hung his head. With another sharp breath, he nodded several times, as if he was snapping himself out of his own thoughts. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I trust you. I’m sorry.”
When your countenance softened inexplicably, Coriolanus let himself slowly tear his walls of paranoia back down. His hands returned to you then, far more hesitantly cradling your face, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs as he kissed you. It was familiar and comforting, yet simultaneously all too much.
“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” you panted into the kiss, trying to break away as your lungs screamed for air. “I miss you. It’s been so long since we just… existed alone together.”
He nodded—because how could he say no to you?—and helped you settle back onto the bed. Let you hold onto him, let you trace mindless shapes into his arm. Watched as your eyes fluttered shut and you fell back into what looked like a restful sleep. Envy curled within the confines of his chest. Sleep graced you so easily. Why did everything come to you so easily?
Nonetheless, he dipped forward to brush his lips against your temple, before gingerly pulling away. You stirred with the jostling, but stayed deep asleep. With that, Coriolanus made his way out of your room, clicking the door shut as softly as he could, and descended down the stairs. He left your house with a heavy chest and a throbbing shoulder.
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Early the next morning, your mother came to the academy with you to watch the end of the Hunger Games—and to be there for moral support, she’d told you. She wheeled you in with a bright smile, greeting all the staring students with a friendly confidence. Once she brought you in front of the very same monitor as yesterday, she kissed the top of your head before flitting away to speak with Lucky, who was all smiles and charm. You overheard him saying that he was confident the games would come to a close soon. Your mother said something in reply, but their voices were drowned out by the swell of students entering the theater.
Coriolanus walked in only a few minutes after you, Tigris on his arm. The two of them made their way to you—Coryo was stone-faced, looking more tired than ever. Tigris appeared more worried than anything, but she was just about glowing in her new pink dress, all sharp angles and pristine fabric.
“You look beautiful,” you told her genuinely once she drew closer to you and took both your hands in hers. “I love your outfit. The color suits you.”
“Thank you,” she replied, flushing a pleased rouge hue. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been impaled by a metal pipe,” you told her with a slight grimace. “But, you know… no better way to fix that than to watch children kill themselves through a screen.”
The two cousins laughed dryly at your sarcasm. Tigris then enthusiastically told you that the dress she was making for you was ready—and you grinned and told her you were incredibly excited to come see it. With that, she nodded and left to take her seat amongst the stands, wishing the two of you good luck. 
Once she was gone, Coriolanus reached out to grasp your shoulder. Your talk with him last night plagued him for hours and hours when he should’ve been asleep. 
“Did you sleep well?” you asked him, leaning into his touch when he brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “You look tired, Coryo.”
A wry smile. “Slept like a baby.”
It was a lie, and you knew it. You frown-smiled at him nonetheless.
He bent at the waist, tilted your face up to meet his, and kissed you square on the lips. Some of the students in the stand wolf-whistled, and it felt distinctly like Coriolanus was putting on a show for them, and for the cameras. And you were, well—you were an unwilling actor.
When he pulled away, he smiled at you and gestured to his seat in the corner. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right there.”
“Okay,” you murmured. “Likewise.”
Coriolanus found himself wondering if you were hiding something from him. Why did it feel like you were drawing yourself away? Were you planning on sabotaging him?
Before he could dwell on it anymore, you gently nudged him off, as Lucky was beginning his opening remarks once again. He talked about the mystery behind Bobbin’s death (sending a cold tremor up Coriolanus’ spine), but moved on rather quickly to the stats board. 
The few remaining mentors settled down and the rest of the students in the stands quieted to watch the games continue. 
Not fifteen minutes later, commotion started brewing between Jessup and Lucy Gray. It was hisses and twitches from the boy at first, but then grew into explosive anger and panicked aggressiveness. Frightened, Lucy Gray began to doggedly run away from her friend, crawling out of the rubble-strewn tunnels and back into the main arena. 
“Something’s wrong,” Lysistrata, Jesssup’s mentor, said. “He wouldn’t turn on her like this.”
You narrowed your eyes at the hazy screen. There seemed to be foam collecting at the corners of Jessup’s mouth as he chased after Lucy Gray, demanding to know what she’s done to him. The hazy memory of Lucy Gray at the zoo mentioning a bat bite resurfaced into your mind.
“It’s rabies,” you told the two. “The foam in his mouth. He’s got rabies—the bat bite in the train, remember?”
Coriolanus and Lysistrata’s eyes both widened. 
“The same district folding in on itself!” Lucky announced into the microphone, and began rattling off some more unnecessary commentary.
“Send him water!” Coryo demanded Lyssie. 
“What?” she asked, watching in horror as her tribute tried to make a grab for Lucy Gray, but she ducked away just in time.
Impatient, Coriolanus stood up and leaned over her desk with gritted teeth. “Remember the posters in the war? Rabies—it makes you afraid of water. Send him a drone!”
Lyssie’s mouth opened and closed. “That’ll scare him!”
“Yes,” he said, tapping on her monitor. “It’ll get him away from her. Jessup is done. And you’re the only one that can get it right to him.”
With a tight frown, Lysistrata reached forward to order a water drone. Lucky was preening with all the action.
“Thank you,” Coriolanus breathed out once her order processed through. 
“Nothing to be proud of,” she said, scowling at the screen.
Lucy Gray was begging for her friend to snap out of it as she climbed up a fallen stone pillar, and screamed when a water drone came whizzing right past her ear, crashing into Jessup. Glass went flying every which way. The water had done its job scaring him—Jessup yelled and tittered with the sudden force. He fell backward and toppled right off the pillar. His body made a sickening crack as it came in contact with the ground. The audience exploded into cheers. 
Horrified, Lucy Gray slid down the pillar after her barely-alive friend, hands shaking. A terrible sense of guilt washed over you.
“Jessup?” she asked, shaking his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay? You watched over me, now I’m watching over you. Sleep now, Jessup. Sleep.”
Jessup’s death was slow and painful. Lyssie sent a bitter glance towards Coriolanus, before storming off. 
But the horrors weren’t yet over for Lucy Gray—Coral and her pack appeared from behind a large pile of rubble, cornering her like coyotes would a lamb. They sneered and jeered at her.
You turned to look at Coriolanus, seeing his face crumple with desperation. His eyes flickered to you for a brief moment.
“Use your donations!” you called over. “She won’t fight, Coryo. You know that!”
With a frantic nod, Coriolanus snapped his gaze back to his monitor, and hurriedly pressed down on eight drones of water for his tribute. 
“Mentors allying together in such troubling times!” Lucky exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Will it be enough to save the songbird?”
The little machines whirred into the arena at alarming high speeds, and crashed into the unassuming tributes surrounding Lucy Gray. She ducked and covered her head with shaking hands as water and glass and metal parts flew every which way. 
“Hey!” one of the mentors exclaimed. “You can’t attack the tributes!”
“I’m just sending water,” Coriolanus retorted back, looking extremely relieved. Then, he looked back at you, and mouthed, thank you.
Taking advantage of the knocked down tributes, Lucy Gray rushed forward, grabbed a glass of water that remained miraculously unshattered, and ran off to hide behind another fallen pillar. You remembered that Coriolanus had given her rat poison—a part of you wanted her to use it to survive, and the other part of you hoped she wouldn’t ever touch it in fear of people finding out about Coriolanus cheating. That would spell the end of him.
Coral and her pack roused with groans and aches. They moaned about losing Lucy Gray, before setting their sights on Lamina and pursuing after her. It was a shame to watch her go, you thought, remembering the kindness she did for Marcus. She was stabbed in the abdomen (reminding you of your own bound bandages), and fell into a crumpled heap beside her district-mate.
While they were all busy going after her, one of the smaller screens caught Lucy Gray appearing back from behind the rubble, placing the full water bottle back on the ground. She hurriedly reached over to dump water out of any of the other bottles that hadn’t broken. 
Lucy Gray managed to escape Coral just as she began to notice what she was doing, darting up some broken stairs and into a duct, latching it shut so they wouldn’t be able to follow her in. Lucky made a sullen comment about how there were no cameras set up inside there.
Coral and the pack retreated back down to survey all the water Lucy Gray had dumped out, save for the one single bottle. You wondered if said bottle was filled with rat poison, by any chance. 
Since you had your gaze focused on one of the smaller screens, you hadn’t even noticed little Wovey emerging from a row of seats not too far away from where Lucy Gray was hiding inside the duct. 
Your eyes frantically turned to the main screen when one of the pack members exclaimed, “It’s Wovey!”
“No, no…” you muttered, leaning forward in your wheelchair, ignoring the painful sting in your side. Wovey was quick to disappear back under the seats, scampering between rows and small gaps under fallen rocks so that they couldn’t follow after her. Twisted relief clawed at your chest and you heaved for breath when they muttered defeat and decided to go back down to the ground. The group began to dissolve into an argument, which thankfully kept them otherwise occupied from going back to hunt after other tributes. To none of your surprise, Coral ended up stabbing Mizzen right in the chest. 
“And who do we have here?” said Lucky when the main screen changed to show a coughing girl emerging from her hiding place. “Ah! It’s Ill Dill. Tuberculosis on legs.”
Dill staggered towards the water bottle. Uncapped it and drank a few small mouthfuls. She coughed and wheezed. Lied down slowly, chest still rattling with coughs. It had to be poisoned, you concluded. To die right after taking that drink… it was far too much of a coincidence. Lucy Gray must have used the poison. You didn’t dare chance a glance back at Coriolanus, afraid you’d see cruel victory in his eyes.
Reaper ran out a minute later, calling out for Dill as he rushed to her. “Dill? Hey, what happened? Dill! Dill, wake up!” 
And when he realized his district-mate was dead… Reaper let out a guttural scream. It echoed and ricocheted around the arena for everyone to hear. You frowned and tucked your arms closer to your sides.
To your surprise, Reaper began to move the dead tributes’ bodies to where Marcus and Lamina were. He laid each of them carefully beside one another. Fixed their positions and brushed the dirt away from their face. Dill first, then Mizzen. Then Bobbin by the entrance—to which none of the other mentors knew who killed except Coriolanus and… you. 
Reaper tore down the long Panem flag hanging from the arena’s wall. The students burst into boos and derogatory yells. He dragged it over to the makeshift morgue and draped the dusty fabric over the corpses. 
There was a lump in your throat as you watched him stand over the bodies he had so meticulously arranged. He gave the tributes one last shred of dignity when the Capitol—you included—had so monstrously stripped every bit of it away. You twisted in your chair to look at your mother in the stands. She had a hand over her mouth as she watched on, looking every bit as choked up as you.
Reaper gazed straight into one of the cameras and spread his arms. “Are you gonna punish me now?” he asked. “ARE YOU GOING TO PUNISH ME N—”
His yells were suddenly cut off by a breaking news announcement. They still echoed about the theater, and you still could hear Reaper’s strong voice in your head. 
Volumnia Gaul sat stiff and menacing on the large screen, her single, beady blue eye seemingly ablaze with a cold fury.
“Capitol citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss. One that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.” The screen changed to display a horrifyingly graphic image of Felix’s dead body covered in bruises and unhealed gashes. This was met with gasps and cries from the crowd. “Out there in the districts… they will be celebrating this young boy’s death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these Games!”
Scandalized murmurs spread throughout the theater. 
Your lips parted with shock. What was the point in having the Hunger Games without a victor? You turned to look at Coriolanus, who was looking every bit as distraught as you. 
A rainbow of destruction, Gaul had said. He knew exactly what that meant. With a tight expression, he sat up and ran out of the theater. You watched him go with utter confusion, calling out his name, but your voice was drowned out over the sea of upset students.
Where was he going? To plea his case with Dr. Gaul or Highbottom? Or… no, he’d told you about the snake muttations Gaul had in her lab—while you were drowsy and delirious with pain, but you could remember it faintly—how they were rainbow in color, fast as lightning as they struck down Clemmie. Did that mean those snakes were going to be set loose in the arena? 
Your heart skipped a beat. Wovey could hide from the other tributes, sure, but small, fast, and most likely deadly snakes? She wouldn’t stand a chance. 
And what of Lucy Gray? What was Coriolanus planning on doing for her?
Fifteen minutes later, Coriolanus came running back in, sweaty and breathless. Just in time, because Coral and her pack were beginning to close in on Lucy Gray, stabbing spears through the vent flap. One of the boys down below the ducts began to cough and sputter, not in an unsimilar fashion to Dill, before collapsing down to the ground with a shudder, blood pouring out of his nose. 
Rat poison. You were sure of it. 
They stabbed at the duct some more until it buckled and broke under her weight, and she came crashing down. Hurriedly, Lucy Gray stumbled up to her feet, climbed over the dead body, and ran as fast as she could away from Coral. They were hot on her tail. Everyone watched with bated breath.
And then—the loud whirring of a carrier came descending down the center of the arena. A large, blackened cylindrical tank was being lowered into the center through the broken rooftop. You let out a shaky breath of petrification. Inside must’ve been the snake muttations Coriolanus told you about. 
The few remaining tributes stared at the tank with wide eyes, too stunned to move. 
“I’d wager that that is going to be no good.” Lucky smiled as he stared at the screen. “But wouldn’t it be fun if it was candy?”
Both the arena and the theater lapsed into utter silence. 
Until—until little Wovey peered her head up from the seats. She’s so frail, was your first thought. Slowly, she began to climb out of the rows and hopped down broken pieces of stone to get back to the ground. 
“Wovey—” you found yourself saying aloud. Many eyes drew to you. “No, no, no…”
You watched as the little girl walked towards the large black tank with wide eyes. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her grimy hand. Reaper was warning Wovey to keep away, but the little girl was still moving closer.
“Is it over?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Can we go home? Please…”
“Fuck! Fu—shit, fuck! No, Wovey!” you frantically yelled as if she could hear you. Desperate to get her to stop going towards the tank, you looked down at your monitor.
Not many donations… 
But enough to send a drone.
Maybe if you sent food—it’d distract her. Keep her away.
And so you began placing an order for a food drone, much to Lucky’s commentary delight. With shaking hands, you pressed confirm.
But there was one thing you hadn’t considered. 
You hadn’t considered the drone coming in from directly in front of Wovey—with the tank right in its way. A whizz, a blur of silver metal, and murmurs of shock from the crowd. The machine drove itself against the glass tank and broke apart into a thousand pieces. Small red apples went flying every which way. Wovey stopped in her tracks for a moment. 
It was a temporary relief.
A crack formed in the tank. And then—another splinter within the glass. And another, and another, and another. They formed a terrible sort of spider web. 
“No,” you whispered, lips quivering. It was all your fault. “Oh, no.”
With that, the glass gave way to its fractures, and burst apart in a cascade of glittering shards. The snakes came tumbling out just as Dr. Gaul had said: a rainbow of destruction. They took down Wovey first as she screamed, slithering over her small body until you saw no part of her left. You had fallen silent, but your entire body ached as you violently shut your eyes, eliciting a hot tear to streak down your cheek. 
“Not candy! Down goes Wovey!” Lucky announced, though he winced with an apologetic glance in your direction. “Sorry, Y/N.” 
The rest of the snakes were quick to pick off Coral’s pack, and then Coral herself, who cried out that all those lives she took… they couldn’t have been for nothing.
They slithered around Reaper, who sat strongly by the pile of bodies he had arranged. He died alongside them as the serpents closed around his throat.
And that just left Lucy Gray.
“All colors lead to Gray!” Lucky announced, overly pleased with his wording.
Coriolanus smiled, victorious. “She’s—she’s won. It’s over. She’s won! Let her out!”
“Afraid that’s not your call to make, Mr. Snow,” said Lucky. He pointed over to Dr. Gaul, who was watching from the theater’s stands with crossed arms. 
The students all murmured and gasped. Coriolanus looked around helplessly.
“Dr. Gaul, she’s won!” he asserted. “It’s over, let her out!”
Volumnia stared at the blonde boy with narrowed eyes, but said nothing.
And then… Lucy Gray began to sing as the snakes slithered their way to her. They coiled over her ankles and into the ruffles of her dress. Over her arms and around her stomach. Along her back and draped on her shoulders. She sang and sang, her voice strong despite the itchy dryness in her throat.
“Why aren’t they attacking her?” Festus Creed demanded. 
Coriolanus set his jaw. “Must be the singing. It’s calming them.”
“She can’t sing forever,” he replied with an upturned nose.
Everyone in the audience watched, enraptured, as Lucy Gray sang her heart out, wrapped in iridescent snakes. You let out a shaky exhale, and another tear slipped down your face. Watching Wovey go was one thing—you didn’t want to watch Lucy Gray die, as well.
Anger rose in your throat. 
You turned your wheelchair away from the screen—away from your damned monitor. It was your fault Wovey was dead. You wouldn’t watch Lucy Gray die, too.
“LET HER OUT!” you screamed at Dr. Gaul. Coriolanus flinched and stared at you with wonder, along with the rest of the student body. You bared your teeth in a pained snarl, and you let the tears freely fall. They were scalding against your skin, along with the multiple cameras that had turned right to you. “She won. Who’s going to donate to your Games next year if they know you’ll just kill their victor off? Let her out, Gaul!”
“Dr. Gaul, please,” Coriolanus pleaded, nodding at your words. “Let her out.”
“Get her out!” Tigris chimed along. Your mother voiced the same sentiment a second later, her face shining at you with pride. 
One by one, students began yelling at Dr. Gaul to get Lucy Gray out of the arena until practically everyone was chanting along.
“Nobody’s going to watch your Games without a victor!” Snow told her over the swell of voices. 
With a sharp scowl, she raised her hand. Almost immediately, the crowd fell into silence. 
“Get her out,” she quietly grumbled to one of her assistants.
Lucky clapped and announced excitedly, “She’s won! Lucy Gray has won! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the 10th annual Hunger Games!”
Victory music began playing throughout the theater—trumpets and drums and bells echoing into his ears as the students rushed down from their seats to congratulate him. Shaking his hand, slapping at his back, ruffling his hair. Tigris was at the front of it all, smiling at him so wide it was a wonder her face didn’t split into two. She wrapped him into a warm hug and he held her tight, laughing into her shoulder as the weight of realization fell against him.
He’d won.
Once he pulled away from his cousin, he pushed through the packed crowd to get to you. You were on your feet already, though your weight was leaning heavily against one of the handles of your wheelchair. You were positively overwhelmed by all the commotion around you. 
He held your face with both his hands and kissed you in front of everyone. The cheers grew louder and louder, and Snow pulled away smiling wider than he ever remembered smiling before.
But when he looked at you again—truly looked at you—there were still tears spilling from your eyes. They didn’t look quite like tears of joy, either.
“She was thirteen,” you sobbed, curling against him. “Coryo, she was thirteen. It was my fault. My fault.”
Caught up in his own victory, he’d very nearly forgotten who you were talking about. It took him another second to realize that you were crying over Wovey. Irritation clawed at his chest and he frowned at you. You should’ve been congratulating him—not thinking about your silly dead tribute. What were you expecting? Hadn’t you known this was coming?
Nonetheless, he held you to his chest with empty words of comfort murmured into your ears, rubbing a palm up and down your back in a placating manner. He kissed your forehead and the crowd swooned with the romance of it all. 
You jerked away from Coriolanus when you felt a distinct pain shoot up your stomach. You looked down, noting the darker red blotch in your uniform. 
It seemed like you’d bled through your bandages again.
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taglist: @nicksolemnlyswears, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marjorieisreading, @emlovesya, @dallaav, @sillyskeletonpatrolghost, @sunshine-stars-12, @intoomanyfandom-s, @eclipixels, @unclecrunkle, @wotcherpeak, @dangelnleif, @freyafriggafrey, @scaraslover, @tiaamberxx, @dracuno, @c-losur3, @ashy-kit, @innercreationflower, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @mymadokamagica, @24kmar, @cowboylikerhian, @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo, @curled-hair-red-lips, @har-rison-s, @aoi-targaryen
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tomwambsmilk · 1 year
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Also in love with Jesse Armstrong for choosing this season to come out and say. By the way. In case you missed it somehow. Yeah this is a show about capitalism. The product launch is kind of a work of genuis in that respect. We're taking a dystopian hellscape straight out of Black Mirror where a corporation controls every aspect of your existence and we're rebranding it as something positive. Not to mention all the talk about being "crime-free", which, sure, maybe Kendall has not personally thought through the implications of how that's going to happen, and there are several options, but all are bad. Is it "crime-free" in the commonly used euphemistic sense of being a mostly white community? Is it crime free because any crime is punished with expulsion and possible homelessness? Is it crime free because they're psychologically screening people going in and eliminating anyone who has a "risky" psychology? All of the above? And that doesn't even get into the dystopia of the few priviledged people who get to live in this hellscape having first access to medical care which might improve quality and longevity of life, something which is openly included in the pitch, or the fact that you'll only have access to ATN/Waystar news and entertainment. The dystopia is staggering and the worst part is that it was almost real!!!! This is a real thing Walt Disney tried to do!!!!! This is not as fictional as one would hope!!!!!! Absolutely insanity (affectionate) to incorporate that. And no one seems to clock how fucked up it is, aside from Matsson's holocaust joke, which is rich coming from the head of the "NASDAQ master race". He has no real moral objection, it's just a play. No one realizes how crazy it is, or maybe they don't care how crazy it is - to them it's just the natural conclusion of what they've been doing. It's cruises on land. It's real estate. It's entertainment. It's hell on earth and they can't fucking see it
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coochiequeens · 1 year
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“A trans-identified pedophile in Scotland used an alias to gain entry into a domestic violence shelter housing vulnerable women and children, where he was allowed to stay for 71 days before being removed”. Kill this guy and the officials who passed laws that allowed this to happen
A trans-identified pedophile in Scotland used an alias to gain entry into a domestic violence shelter housing vulnerable women and children, where he was allowed to stay for 71 days before being removed. Katie Dolatowski, 22, is a registered sex offender for crimes involving young girls, yet was permitted to reside at the Leeds Women’s Aid Refuge.
Dolatowski provided official documentation supporting a new identity, which he used to deceive staff at the women’s shelter. Dolatowski was accommodated in a section of the refuge which houses people who identify as transgender, but it had some shared resources and spaces with the main women’s area.
Dolatowski has a disturbing history of sex attacks on young girls in public facilities. In 2018, he was discovered secretly filming a 12-year-old girl in a women’s bathroom at an Asda supermarket in Fife, Scotland. 
The child was using a restroom cubicle and in a state of partial undress when she spotted Dolatowski recording her by holding his phone over the stall. The girl cried out for help and ran away. The supermarket’s CCTV footage was used to identify Dolatowski, and upon further investigation, 12 seconds of film of the girl were found on his mobile phone and iPad.
The following month, Dolatowski targeted another young girl for sexual assault in the restroom of a Morrisons supermarket in Kircaldy, Fife. He grabbed a 10-year-old girl by the face and pushed her into a cubicle, ordering the child to remove her pants. During the assault, Dolatowski also threatened to murder the child’s mother in an attempt to frighten her into compliance. However, the young girl struck out in self-defense, landing some blows against Dolatowski, and was able to break free and run for her parents.
Despite his two attacks on children, Dolatowski was handed a three-year community order in lieu of a prison sentence. He was also banned from having contact with children, placed on the sex offenders registry, and ordered to complete community service.
Upon learning of Dolatowski’s disturbing history, management at Leeds Women’s Aid had him removed from the premises. Chief Executive Nik Peasgood told The Sun: “We are appalled that someone with such crimes could come to a women’s refuge using a different identity. We are aware a criminal using authenticated identification could access any housing provider’s services and we are not unique in being manipulated in this way.”
Farah Nazeer, also a chief executive at the shelter, added, “This situation is a priority for us, alongside supporting our federation of local domestic abuse services.”
A mother of three and a resident at the refuge told The Sun that the situation frightened her and made her fear for the safety of her children. “It’s horrific. As a victim of sexual abuse myself, the whole thing is triggering. I came here with my kids because I thought it was a safe place and to find out there was a pedophile living a few doors away for months is just horrendous.”
As previously reported by Reduxx, Dolatowski, who stands nearly 6’5, was ousted from a public housing estate on the night of October 19 after enraged neighbors became aware of his past crimes. A crowd gathered outside of the property, demanding his expulsion. A phone recording taken by a bystander shows a large number of police officers present, removing Dolatowski and unidentified others from the residence.
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This is not the first instance of Dolatowski being granted access to a women’s shelter. 
In February of 2019, the Courier revealed that Dolatowski, who was homeless at the time, had been housed in a hostel for female offenders on the basis of his self-declared gender identity. This was permitted despite the fact that Dolatowski did not have a Gender Recognition Certificate (GRC), a legal document that establishes a change to one’s name and birth sex on their identification.
One woman who was residing in the unit for homeless offenders told The Courier: “This is a women’s hostel and it’s all women who work here. I feel sick and can’t stop thinking about what he has done.” 
An editorial decision was made in the news article to alter the woman’s wording by using the feminine pronoun “she” in place of “he.”
At the time, a spokeswoman for Women and Girls in Scotland noted that accomodating males in certain female-only spaces, such as prisons and crisis shelters, can be triggering for the vulnerable women residing there.
“Female offenders are very likely to have experienced male violence and/or abuse, and many suffer from conditions such as PTSD. As such, the presence of males in spaces where they are vulnerable could understandably be very distressing for these women, and for many the presence of a male sex offender will prove to be unbearable.”
She went on to denounce the lack of safeguarding measures, stating: “Katie Dolatowski has already taken advantage of access to female spaces to commit sexual assault. It is absolutely unacceptable that this person was being given the same opportunity again.”
Currently, violent male offenders incarcerated in Scotland can be placed in women’s prisons provided they are recognized as transgender.
In October, the Scottish Prison Service (SPS) confirmedthat half of the current inmates who identify as transgender only began doing so following their convictions.
By Genevieve Gluck Genevieve is the Co-Founder of Reduxx, and the outlet's Chief Investigative Journalist with a focused interest in pornography, sexual predators, and fetish subcultures. She is the creator of the podcast Women's Voices, which features news commentary and interviews regarding women's rights.
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Nestor Makhno (1888-1934), Ukrainian anarchist revolutionary and commander of the Revolutionary Insurgent Army of Ukraine (Makhnovshchina), which was a predominantly peasant phenomenon that grew into a mass social movement. It was initially centered around Makhno's hometown Huliaipole but over the course of the Russian Civil War came to exert a strong influence over large areas of southern Ukraine. Makhno was aggressively opposed to all factions that sought to impose their authority over southern Ukraine, battling in succession the forces of the Ukrainian National Republic, the Central Powers of Germany and Austro-Hungary, the Hetmanate state, the White Army, the Bolshevik Red Army, and other smaller forces led by various Ukrainian atamans. Makhno and his supporters attempted to reorganize social and economic life along anarchist lines, including the establishment of communes on former landed estates, the requisition and egalitarian redistribution of land to the peasants, and the organization of free elections to local soviets (councils) and regional congresses. After an extended period of open resistance against the Red Army, Makhno fled across the Romanian border in August 1921. In exile, Makhno settled in Paris with his wife and daughter, living poverty and remaining threatened with expulsion.
Despite his poor health (caught tuberculosis in prison, had breathing problems, received at least 11 wounds including one in the right foot leaving him limping), he was known to be extremely brave and was nicknamed Batko Makhno ("Father Makhno"). Due to malnutrition, Makhno's tuberculosis worsened to the point that he was hospitalized in March 1934. Operations failed to help and Makhno finally died in the early hours of July 25, 1934.
There's just too much to say about the man (and since English is not my first language, it's a bit difficult) so I highly recommend to read more about him, either on Wikipedia or through Alexandre Skirda's book "Anarchy's Cossack: The Struggle for Free Soviets in the Ukraine 1917-1921". He's truly a fascinating character.
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2000scnt · 1 year
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You can love me… but you will hate me too.
•Miles Fairchild mini series•
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Hey y’all I’m throwing these chapters out fast so be prepared! Let me know if you’d like me to change things here and there in the story, open for suggestions! Enjoy for now :)
//NSFW, sexual situations, profanity, violence, abusive behavior/// Please be respectful.
Chapter 3
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It was about 2 hours that had gone by and thankfully they hadn’t found Madeline yet. She was so bored here waiting for the bell to go off signaling lessons were over. She wished she was able to bring something to entertain her. In an emergency they had pay phones in the grand foyer lined up like in a fancy hotel in Europe but right now there was no way she could show her face.
Madeline huffed and fell back onto the wall she was slouched against. The occasional drip from the sink echoed. She looked up at the ceiling and imagined shapes to pass the time. An octagon and two ovals fell onto each other making a heart upside down with a Diamond. Like a necklace she once seen her mother wearing at an event. She sighed, she missed her mother, she’d know how to help right now. Her calm demeanor and comfort would bring hope that everything would be okay.
Madeline bit her lip to keep herself from tearing up, we cannot weaken ourselves right now. She suddenly felt a small tickle in her hand and looked to see a small daddy long legs beginning to gingerly explore her thin fingers. She smiled fondly and it and picked her hand up to eye level. She studied the spider as it crawled, it’s thin legs testing out the area before continuing on its journey. Madeline was in her own world playing with it, not a thought of her situation.
A few minutes had gone by as she watched it, a giggle flowing out from the soft tickles. This little creature was innocent and not biased. They were just there, existing, why couldn’t people just do the same.
The bell blared, school was finally over. Madeline jumped slightly and quickly jumped up. She said farewell to the little thing and let it free near the window. It crawled away slowly. Madeline frowned but walked to the door. She pulled the heavy bin from the door and threw on a sweater with a hoodie that she’d pulled out from her backpack. She flipped the hood up covering her head completely. “Alright, here we go.” Madeline breathed in and pulled the door open.
She looked around the hallway and it was completely abandoned, the footsteps thundering on the level above. Madeline quickly walked down the hallways, past the empty classrooms, spooky paintings and statues. Her footsteps were quiet as a mouse. She somewhat knew her way around the school, it wasn’t that big but it had many levels and many secret entryways. Being a loner, she had plenty of time to explore.
Madeline suddenly hurt something scrap against the floor in one of the rooms. She came to a halt and listened. It was silent for a moment and thought maybe she was just being paranoid, but before she could make another step it sounded again. She cursed under her breath, she did not want to get caught in a haunting right now. But when she began to hear two people speaking with anger she knew someone was there.
Deciding against her own thoughts, she walked towards the voices. Madeline carefully hid behind the open door and looked through the crack to see Miles and some girl. She was milky white and had black curls with hazel eyes that watched Miles with hooded lids. She looked at him with desire. Miles ignored it as he spoke into a small phone, the antenna sticking up in the air. He was pacing.
He also seemed livid. “Listen here Mrs. Grose. You may be the one to look after us but I’m the one who gives the rules now that my parents are gone, I’m the heir to the estate. So, You make it happen. I want her invitation sent out within the next 40 minutes. And we will discuss my expulsion when I’m home, not in front of flora. I don’t want to worry her any further… Just tell her I’m visiting and taking time off from school.” Madeline furrowed her brows, expulsion? When did this happen?
Miles spoke a little more then bid farewell to the person at the end of the line. He seemed frustrated as he pushed his curls back, they just bounced right back. He stood and looked at the girl forgetting she was even there. She smiled seductively and awaited him to pounce on her as he always did. Miles walked towards her and grabbed her chin tightly. “Tell that fucking cunt, Madison is it? To stay the fuck away from Madeline or I’ll personally send her to hell.” Madeline froze, why was Miles threatening her? Was he defending her? So many questions flooded her mind. The girls face instantly twisted into fear and she began to tug back but miles held her firmly in place. “Are we fucking clear Clara?” Clara? That sounds familiar. The girls hazel eyes began to tear up, but she didn’t respond. “Say it! Say it!” Clara shook her head in agreement frantically. “Yes! Yes, I’ll tell her!” The girl was shaking.
Miles watched her squirm for a little before pushing her face away. She began to weep as she rubbed her chin. Her beautiful hazel eyes looked back up at him with sadness. “Why are y-you protecting her?” She questioned. Miles shook his head. “Because she’s mine to deal with.” He responded sternly. The girl looked down and mumbled something to herself with a look of distaste. Madeline couldn’t hear but Miles certainly did. “Stop telling everyone you’re my girlfriend, you were nothing but just a good fuck.” He laughed with malice. “Not even good at that.” He finished shaking his head to himself as he walked towards the door.
Madeline jumped into action looking for somewhere to hide. There was a small door beside her. She quietly opened it and hid inside leaving it slightly cracked so he wouldn’t hear it close. It smelled of mold and dust that tickled her nose but she had to resist sneezing. Miles pulled the door open and walked out the room fixing his tie under his wool sweater. But he suddenly froze. He slowly rose his head up and sniffed around him. Something familiar was in the air. Miles didn’t want her to know he knew she was there. He smiled to himself and walked down the hallway, taking his time with it.
Madeline gulped. What the hell was that? He was like a fucking bloodhound. She couldn’t shake this weird feeling, but ignored it. She walked out the closet and cautiously looked around finding no one there. She looked back at the door to see the girl shakily wiping her tears with sniffles. Madeline felt guilty, she was a beautiful girl who deserved better then who she wanted. She wanted to stay and comfort the girl but it just wasn’t the time. Instead, she found a wrapper in her pocket and quietly began to fold it. She learned a trick within seconds in camp back when she was 12.
The wrapper noises caught the girls attention and she looked up at the door. “Hello? Miles?” She sounded almost hopeful when she asked for miles but also dejected. She carefully stood up from the desk she was sitting at, it creaked under her weight. This part of the school gave her the absolute creeps but she only ever came down here with Miles when he wanted to hook up. Up until now at least.
Clara pushed her black hair over her shoulder and clenched her fists. She slowly walked through the door into golden lit hallways, the setting light coming through the windows making shadows and glimmering reflections. It made it seem less scary. Her shoulders slumped down in relief from the fear of being alone down here. Her foot then stepped on something. She stepped back and found a little heart made from the wrapper of something laying flatly. She smiled and picked it up. It was like someone had left it for her. She knew it couldn’t have been Miles. He didn’t eat peanut M&M’s.
Clara held it to her chest and felt a spark in her. It was like her guardian angel had left it for her. She sighed, maybe they knew that she deserved better than to be treated like trash, but she couldn’t help but think this is the only kind of love she could get. Her and miles had been somewhat of a secret, he liked it that way. In public he was mean and cold but behind closed doors he was kind and sensual. She thought it was love, if you can even call it that. “Thank you…” clara mumbled. She sniffled one last time and clicked down the hallway and up the stairs quickly.
“You’re welcome…” Madeline whispered as she watched the naive girl disappear from the crack of the door. She pulled it open and walked out. Madeline then ran down the hallway and opened an exit door that led to the garden through a door that was hidden behind a bush. Now it was time to figure out how get to the dorms and into her dads car, and questions to be answered later.
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Madeline groaned and treaded through the garden, jumping over a small metal black gate that separated the dorms to the main school grounds. She looked around in fear of getting caught but thankfully no one knew of this hidden path. Besides the kids who were high or came to get drunk. But they kept out of school drama and to themselves. Madeline sometimes hung out with a boy named Kody and two girls who just joked and smoked. But she wouldn’t call them friends, just people who didn’t give a crap who she was and just wanted to have fun.
Madeline sneaked past some unsuspecting girls as they talked on their small phones outside of the dorms gates. School had just finished and already kids were stuck to their phones. She shook her head and was able to push through the students unnoticed. Thankfully she took the stairs to not risk getting in an elevator with students who’d snitch.
Madeline skipped over steps and breathed heavily running up the stairs. None of the students took the stairs so she wasn’t in risk of getting caught. She also didn’t have a dorm mate in her room so she didn’t have to worry about that.
Once she got to the 4th floor she peeked through the small window to see that the halls were completely empty. Weird. She took a second before pushing the door open and running down the hall, she didn’t care that her heavy steps would catch anyone’s attention. She just wanted to be out of here. Once she got to her door, she put in her pin code and the door unlocked. Madeline sighed with relief when her door slammed shut behind her. She fell onto her bed facedown and screamed. She was finally alone with her thoughts and was left spiraling. So much had happened in one day. Miles Fairchild, the most untouchable guy in school acknowledged her existence and ended up hating her. She finally stood up to her bullies and in that getting herself expelled most likely. Finding out more secrets about miles. Helping an unknown girl. And trying to save herself in the process. Her life really was a movie, things that only happen in books. But the most important question being, what does miles want with her?
Madeline wanted to dwell on it but she wasn’t in the position to. She looked at her clock to see that it was 3:25 pm. Her dad would be there to pick her up in 5 minutes. Lucky for her she had packed before leaving for class that morning. She hurriedly grabbed another jacket. Brushed her teeth, her hair and washed her face. All within 2 minutes.
Madeline took a second to look at her face, her dark blue eyes were puffy and slightly red. Her worry lines more prominent and her lips were chapped and bloody from stress. “God, I’m awful..” She sighed. But then her beeper dinged. Her father had messaged her that the car was downstairs. Her father never personally picked her up, to clarify, he always sent his driver. How sentimental. It seemed as though he wanted to spend as little time as possible with her.
Madeline picked up her bag and ran out of her room. This time she didn’t care if anyone saw her, she already had her ticket out of here waiting for her downstairs. A couple of girls gasped and tried to stop her and she slinked past them but Madeline was quick to dodge them with a wave and speedy pace. The sleek black Benz awaited her at the curved driveway.
Madeline sprinted towards the car struggling to carry her bag. Then out of the corner of her eye she noticed one of the dorm governess who kept order in the girls dormitory recognize her. “Miss Roth!” She called. The plump woman began to wave to her and walk towards her. Madeline jumped into the car and slammed the door shut as the woman got closer. The older woman caught up and began to knock at the window. “Miss Roth! Where in heavens do you think you’re going!” She insisted. Madeline told the driver to get on with it and the woman continued to make a scene. “You will only further the consequences of your behavior!” Madeline ignored her as the car began to speed up. “Miss Roth! This is outrageous!” The woman stumbled over her feet as the car left her in the dust.
Madeline looked back and slumped back when the older women became smaller and out of view when they pulled out of the long driveway and onto the highway. Her school was very secluded in dense forests. So right from the gates you were already on the highway and on your way. No looking back now.
Madeline pulled out her MP3 player and some headphones. Some music would help get some things off her mind. Thankfully, her fathers drivers never spoke and never asked questions so she didn’t have to worry about him speaking to her about what had happened. The governess went by the name of Daria Esther. She was an older woman in her 60’s who was on the heavier side from the hips and behind. She always got the girls in trouble for every little thing, from listening to music too loud to wearing tank tops to bed. She was traditional and a snitch. So, Madeline was happy to see her kick rocks.
Madeline looked out the window in anticipation to be with her father and enjoy the weekend. For now, her problems were behind her and until then she wouldn’t open that can of worms. All she needed was some rest and peace.
But she’d be getting way more than she expected…
(Finally done with this one, i was slacking so much!! Anyway, keep it going ;))
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versatanic · 1 year
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Lawrence Stroll is pimping out his son fr… DILFs lining up around the block
Aston Martin Ltd. were forced to go into liquidation last year after an unsuccessful gamble during the Las Vegas Grand Prix caused Lawrence to cut wages and disobey safety regulations in the factory, which resulted in enough insurance claims to fill the centrally heated swimming pool in their backyard. Anyway, one Managing Director embezzlement scandal led to another employee put on redundancy, and soon the Stroll family were forced to sell their assets. As in, the entire house.
Lawrence is not a landlord, which should've been brought into consideration when he signed their estate as collateral. He was 27 then, what did he know at that age? His heir, Lance, barely attended private school. He always snuck out to play hockey with his gang. Of course this was known whenever he got a call from the Headmaster to confirm that unless he achieves As on a repetitive basis for all his subjects henceforth, it was expulsion. Lawrence gives a haughty laugh at the thought now.
"Dad... why are you laughing?" Lance enquires. It was a strange time to be positive.
"Well, we need some semblance of happiness in these times, and I'm sure these men here in front of us will make you very happy, yes?"
A semblance. This is what we've come to.
Lance perishes the thought and disguises his face into one of assumable joy, plastering a grin with the hope that his pearls can intice the men in front of him.
Fernando and Flavio are their names. Lance will have to remember them. He'll be living in their house as an escort indefinitely.
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Navigating Complexities and Safeguarding Property Rights with real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam
The Crucial Role of Real Estate Litigation Lawyers in Vietnam
Real estate transactions in Vietnam are on the ascent, driven by expanding urbanization. Notwithstanding, exploring the complex legitimate scene of the Vietnam housing business sector can be trying for both homegrown and worldwide financial backers. Real estate litigation lawyers assume a basic part in this unique situation, offering master direction and portrayal to defend property freedoms and resolve questions really.
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The Vietnam real estate market is assorted and dynamic, incorporating private, business, modern, and rural properties. With the rising interest for land and properties, land exchanges include different partners, including purchasers, venders, designers, property managers, occupants, and government organizations.
Understanding the legitimate subtleties and complexities of land exchanges is essential to guarantee consistence with regulations and guidelines, limit gambles, and safeguard property privileges. Real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam have top to bottom information on Vietnam land regulations, guidelines, and market works on, making them exceptional to direct clients through each step of the real estate process.
One of the essential jobs of real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam is to give master help with drafting and assessing land contracts. Whether it's a deal and buy understanding, rent understanding, improvement understanding, or joint endeavor contract, these legal advisors guarantee that the agreements are lawfully strong, safeguard their clients' advantages, and line up with Vietnam land regulations. They fastidiously investigate legally binding terms, recognize expected gambles, and haggle in the interest of their clients to get good agreements. Moreover, real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam exhort clients on consistence with administrative necessities, divulgence commitments, and the utilization of standard industry terms.
Before taking part in any land exchange, exhaustive property a reasonable level of effort is fundamental to survey the property's legitimate status, proprietorship, and likely dangers. Real estate dispute lawyers in Vietnam lead far reaching a reasonable level of effort examinations, looking at land titles, encumbrances, allows, and drafting guidelines. This persistence assists clients with settling on informed conclusions about the suitability and potential dangers related with a property speculation. Recognizing any lawful issues or inconsistencies in advance permits clients to proactively relieve dangers and address possible difficulties.
In Vietnam, land use privileges are a perplexing part of land exchanges. Real estate litigation lawyers  help clients in understanding the different sorts of land use privileges, like leasehold, freehold, and land use freedoms for unfamiliar financial backers. They give direction ashore use arranging, land designation, and transformation methodology. Moreover, these Real estate litigation lawyers assist clients with exploring land possession debates, limit questions, and issues connected with the obtaining of land-use freedoms. Their mastery in land regulations and guidelines guarantees that clients' property privileges are legitimately safeguarded, and they can unhesitatingly continue with their land speculations.
Questions in land exchanges are normal, and when clashes emerge, land prosecution legal counselors in Vietnam become significant supporters for their clients. These legal counselors are knowledgeable about dealing with an extensive variety of land questions, for example, break of agreement claims, expulsion activities, title debates, development debates, and requirement of property privileges. They help clients in investigating elective debate goal strategies, like exchange, intercession, and mediation, to arrive at neighborly settlements and keep away from expensive suit whenever the situation allows. Be that as it may, assuming suit becomes fundamental, land prosecution legal counselors in Vietnam address their clients in court procedures, introducing powerful claims and proof to safeguard their clients' property privileges and monetary interests.
Land projects frequently require different government endorsements and grants. Real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam are knowledgeable in the administrative scene and help clients in getting the fundamental endorsements, allows, and licenses from significant specialists.
In conclusion, real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam assume a key part in the nation's flourishing property market. With their profound information on Vietnamese land regulations, guidelines, and market rehearses, they guide clients through the intricacies of land exchanges, safeguard property freedoms, and resolve questions actually. Whether helping with contract drafting, an expected level of effort, land use issues, question goal, administrative consistence, or government endorsements, land case legal counselors contribute fundamentally to guaranteeing a straightforward and secure housing market in Vietnam. Their master direction and portrayal are fundamental for financial backers looking for progress and strength in this lively and quickly advancing area while carrying on doing business in Vietnam.
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Navigating Complexities and Safeguarding Property Rights with real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam
The Crucial Role of Real Estate Litigation Lawyers in Vietnam
Real estate transactions in Vietnam are on the ascent, driven by expanding urbanization. Notwithstanding, exploring the complex legitimate scene of the Vietnam housing business sector can be trying for both homegrown and worldwide financial backers. Real estate litigation lawyers assume a basic part in this unique situation, offering master direction and portrayal to defend property freedoms and resolve questions really.
Tumblr media
The Vietnam real estate market is assorted and dynamic, incorporating private, business, modern, and rural properties. With the rising interest for land and properties, land exchanges include different partners, including purchasers, venders, designers, property managers, occupants, and government organizations.
Understanding the legitimate subtleties and complexities of land exchanges is essential to guarantee consistence with regulations and guidelines, limit gambles, and safeguard property privileges. Real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam have top to bottom information on Vietnam land regulations, guidelines, and market works on, making them exceptional to direct clients through each step of the real estate process.
One of the essential jobs of real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam is to give master help with drafting and assessing land contracts. Whether it's a deal and buy understanding, rent understanding, improvement understanding, or joint endeavor contract, these legal advisors guarantee that the agreements are lawfully strong, safeguard their clients' advantages, and line up with Vietnam land regulations. They fastidiously investigate legally binding terms, recognize expected gambles, and haggle in the interest of their clients to get good agreements. Moreover, real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam exhort clients on consistence with administrative necessities, divulgence commitments, and the utilization of standard industry terms.
Before taking part in any land exchange, exhaustive property a reasonable level of effort is fundamental to survey the property's legitimate status, proprietorship, and likely dangers. Real estate dispute lawyers in Vietnam lead far reaching a reasonable level of effort examinations, looking at land titles, encumbrances, allows, and drafting guidelines. This persistence assists clients with settling on informed conclusions about the suitability and potential dangers related with a property speculation. Recognizing any lawful issues or inconsistencies in advance permits clients to proactively relieve dangers and address possible difficulties.
In Vietnam, land use privileges are a perplexing part of land exchanges. Real estate litigation lawyers  help clients in understanding the different sorts of land use privileges, like leasehold, freehold, and land use freedoms for unfamiliar financial backers. They give direction ashore use arranging, land designation, and transformation methodology. Moreover, these Real estate litigation lawyers assist clients with exploring land possession debates, limit questions, and issues connected with the obtaining of land-use freedoms. Their mastery in land regulations and guidelines guarantees that clients' property privileges are legitimately safeguarded, and they can unhesitatingly continue with their land speculations.
Questions in land exchanges are normal, and when clashes emerge, land prosecution legal counselors in Vietnam become significant supporters for their clients. These legal counselors are knowledgeable about dealing with an extensive variety of land questions, for example, break of agreement claims, expulsion activities, title debates, development debates, and requirement of property privileges. They help clients in investigating elective debate goal strategies, like exchange, intercession, and mediation, to arrive at neighborly settlements and keep away from expensive suit whenever the situation allows. Be that as it may, assuming suit becomes fundamental, land prosecution legal counselors in Vietnam address their clients in court procedures, introducing powerful claims and proof to safeguard their clients' property privileges and monetary interests.
Land projects frequently require different government endorsements and grants. Real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam are knowledgeable in the administrative scene and help clients in getting the fundamental endorsements, allows, and licenses from significant specialists.
In conclusion, real estate litigation lawyers in Vietnam assume a key part in the nation's flourishing property market. With their profound information on Vietnamese land regulations, guidelines, and market rehearses, they guide clients through the intricacies of land exchanges, safeguard property freedoms, and resolve questions actually. Whether helping with contract drafting, an expected level of effort, land use issues, question goal, administrative consistence, or government endorsements, land case legal counselors contribute fundamentally to guaranteeing a straightforward and secure housing market in Vietnam. Their master direction and portrayal are fundamental for financial backers looking for progress and strength in this lively and quickly advancing area while carrying on doing business in Vietnam.
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warpaiint · 11 months
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Meet Selene.
Caitlyn got Selene for her sixteen birthday from an exotic import of pets from the east. Her father had saw the cat and thought that it might provide her with some companionship that she was sorely lacking due to being homeschooled, having no friends and with Jayce's expulsion from the academy.
Honestly, Caitlyn hated the gesture at first, because she still considered Jayce a brother to her and the fact that her parents thought a present would sooth over all the troubles and they appear like a perfect happy family again. However, Caitlyn could not deny the kitten, as it wasn't her fault she was brought into the household as a tool by her parents to appease her.
Caitlyn grew fondly attached to the feline, naming her Selene after the moon spirit. The two easily bonded and Caitlyn showered her cat with love and attention, and often found it difficult to move when Selene decided it was time to sit on her lap. Whenever Caitlyn is sick or hurt, Selene will stay right by her bedside, giving little bathes to her forehead and nose bumps, and then snuggling against her Caitlyn.
Selene is very cautious of outsiders, she doesn't like new people and will often hiss and resent when they show up at the estate. There has only been a few times where Selene has broken from this habit and accepted a newcomer. Selene is very attentive to people and their reactions with Caitlyn. Most people who come to the estate are not there for Caitlyn and come for business or other manner of interest. However, there have been a couple of people who have entered the estate and Selene was calm and curious: those two are Jayce and Vi. Selene took interest in them and did not react in an aggressive manner.
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edenspetals · 2 years
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ꒰🥀꒱ crossovers ៸៸
·⊰ my oc crossover with @kiasnocturnality , you'll see them interacting across both blogs often. this page will be updated with new lore as we progress <3 please check out her characters!
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꒰🥀꒱ lisheng & takeshi ៸៸
ଓ.° with only a year apart from one another in age, these two were inseparable throughout earlier stages of their life. they learnt how to survive and relied on one another, developing a very close bond
ଓ.° they were known to wreak havoc on both the mortal and immortal world. however, as time went on, lisheng had began to see what they were doing was wrong and tried to steer takeshi in the right way. this caused conflict between them as lisheng started to shun his nogitsune tendancies, thus insulting takeshi in the process. these little arguements and tiffs would eventually result in a violent outburst between the two of them, of which they unsheathed their swords on another another.
ଓ.° lisheng leaves japan and by the time he returns, takeshi and him still do not see eye to eye. however, it can be speculated that they do not truly hate one another, as they keep popping to agitate one another, commencing in arguements despite it being pointless.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
꒰🥀꒱ lixue & nasana ៸៸
ଓ.° after paranormal activity was detected within the rainforest, lixue being a cultivator goes out to investigate the potential threat, unaware that those very lands were inhabited by another being. being reckless as ever, she finds herself unaware of the wounds that she obtained throughout her struggle to expell the evil
ଓ.° she meets nasana when he too arrives to observe the newfound miasma. after deeming her to not be a threat as she is expelling the miasma, he aids her. they do not complete the task, however, as nasana soon takes notice of wounds and despite his typical nature, takes her back to heal her first
ଓ.° the expulsion of the miasma took quite some time and over that period the two of them had become friends, this bond only grew with time ( with a lot of persistence from lixue's side but hey, he's happy. ) nasana, the introvert, now has one (1) friend, a loud extrovert who is constantly draining his energy. she is rather hyper when compared to him and is known to drop by unannounced and give him grief.
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꒰🥀꒱ rishima & alois ៸៸
ଓ.° after finding alois in a more vulnerable time of his life due to his flee from his home and vampire hunters, rishima provides aid to him by taking him in to her kingdom for a certain period of time. avian and vampires, while they do not have a huge feud, do have some distaste for one another so of course, rishima is questioned ( can't blame him for being cautious after everything ). she goes on to note that he willingly accepted help of an avian and that species quarrels are trivial to which he agrees. in reality, rishima prides herself in forming strong, reliable allies — however, this mindset, in regards to alois, will eventually disappear as the two of them bond
ଓ.° during alois' stay, the two share experiences. rishima comes to know of alois' unfortunate situation and alois witnesses rishima's neglect first hand. throughout his stay, the two of them eventually strike a deal to aid one another in their troubles and when alois' finally departs from her kingdom — he promises to repay her aid
ଓ.° alois succeeds in the slaying of the hunter and retrieving his estate back, rishima having provided some aid in this. alois stays true to his word and sends his personal guard to rishima who is loyal to her solely and will aid her in her planned uprise
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The Value Of Professional Residential Property Management In Phuket
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Phuket, along with its panoramic beaches, vivid culture, and also prosperous tourism industry, has become a hotspot for home expenditure. Nonetheless, owning home in Phuket includes its very own collection of difficulties, demanding the necessity for professional property management in Phuket solutions. In this article, we are going to discover the usefulness of specialist residential property management in Phuket as well as just how it can help resident.
Significance Of Expert Residential Or Commercial Property Administration In Phuket:
Legal Compliance
Thailand possesses particular laws and also requirements controling property ownership and rentals. Expert home supervisors in Phuket are actually skillful in these legislations, guaranteeing that your home remains up to date with all lawful demands. Coming from lease arrangements to real estate tax, they deal with all legal components, mitigating the risk of pricey charges or even lawful disagreements.
Making Best Use Of Rental Profit
Some of the major objectives of residential property expenditure is to produce rental income. Qualified residential property managers hire critical advertising methods to entice tenants, guaranteeing ideal settlement rates. They carry out market studies to determine competitive rental prices, maximizing your rental profit while keeping it according to market styles.
Residential property Upkeep
Sustaining a property in Phuket, particularly if you live in other places, could be daunting. Specialist property managers supervise regimen servicing activities like landscape design, pool cleaning, as well as repair work. They have a network of depended on specialists and also specialist, guaranteeing timely and also efficient upkeep services, thus maintaining the worth of your investment.
Resident Administration
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Locating dependable tenants and making certain quick rent remittances could be complicated duties for homeowner. Home managers in Phuket deal with renter assessment methods rigorously, validating references and carrying out history examinations to secure responsible renters. Furthermore, they execute lease arrangements, handle renter problems, and also deal with expulsions if important, relieving homeowner of such difficult tasks.
24/7 Urgent Feedback
Emergencies can emerge whenever, whether it is actually a plumbing concern or even a safety and security issue. Expert property management services Phuket supply 24/7 urgent response services, delivering tenants with comfort and guarding the residential property coming from possible loss. Their fast action lessens disturbances as well as makes certain the protection as well as contentment of tenants.
Economic Administration
Dealing with the economic aspects of property ownership calls for accuracy and experience. Property supervisors in Phuket manage rental payment selection, bookkeeping, as well as monetary coverage on behalf of property proprietors. They sustain clear files of profit as well as expenses, assisting in very easy monitoring of financial performance and making certain that home owner stay informed regarding their expenditure's productivity.
Property Examinations
Frequent home assessments are vital to pinpoint any kind of servicing problems or even lease violations quickly. Expert residential property managers carry out comprehensive assessments of the residential property, both prior to as well as after lessee tenancy, documenting its own condition and taking care of any type of worries quickly. This practical strategy aids prevent slight problems from rising in to expensive troubles, consequently safeguarding your financial investment.
Nearby Knowledge
Navigating the intricacies of the Phuket residential or commercial property market calls for intimate knowledge of nearby patterns, regulations, and customizeds. Expert residential or commercial property supervisors have comprehensive adventure as well as expertise in the Phuket property market, allowing all of them to give beneficial knowledge and also guidance to home owner. Their local know-how permits all of them to adapt to market aspects efficiently, improving the performance of your assets property.
Final thought:
Acquiring residential or commercial property in Phuket can be actually strongly satisfying, however it features its own reveal of problems. Expert property administration services play a critical job in reducing these difficulties and making the most of the return on your investment. From legal conformity and also lessee administration to residential or commercial property servicing as well as economic management, property managers in Phuket give extensive services tailored to the unique necessities of resident. Through delegating your home to qualified administration, you can easily take pleasure in the perks of possession without the involved worry as well as inconvenience.
Inter Property Phuket
137, 7, Rawai, Mueng, Phuket 83130
0959467668
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chugleychimp · 1 month
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Daniel 11: 20 (187 B.C.E. - 175 B.C.E.)
‘Then shall stand up in His [Antiochus III ( 223 B.C.E. – 187 B.C.E.) ‘s] Estate, A Raiser of Taxes [Seleucus IV Philopater (187 B.C.E. – 175 B.C.E.) In The Glory of The Kingdom [The Glorious Kingdom of The Land of Israel]. But Within A Few Days, He [Heliodorus, Seleucus IV’s Chancellor] Shall Be Destroyed – Neither in Anger – Neither in Battle.’ (Daniel 11:20) ‘The Expulsion of Heliodorus…
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maxmefferts · 3 months
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The Best Building Administration Is Free
There are many residential or commercial property administration companies in the market today. All companies have their own costs and costs that you need to incur to contract their solutions. The reality is that the only management firms that you need to employ with are the companies that are FREE.
I understand everybody believes there is nothing that is "complimentary" and this holds true as a whole yet not from every point of view. When I describe Free residential or commercial property monitoring, I am speaking about a business that offers added value to the homes that it takes care of. A value that would be not likely to be reached by the proprietor managing the property themselves. Let's check out the worth of great realty management. Worth can be revealed in many terms such as equity, lower turn over, greater rents, reduced upkeep expenses and most importantly, time. Time is one of the most crucial asset that exists. Put simply if you had all the money or items on the planet but you had no time at all to appreciate them, you don't have a lot.
Several property owners have full time jobs, household responsibilities, https://upravlenienaimotibg.com and little time to manage the residential or commercial property they have to optimal performance. Some of these proprietors function long hours in an attempt to "conserve" cash by not working with a property supervisor. After we examine this method we will certainly see that most of the times the homeowner is actually shedding money, and more significantly losing time.
The old claiming "Time is cash" will certainly be a foundation of our evaluation. Allow's state the property owner in our example is an employee at XYZ Corp and is paid $20 an hour. A basic price for home administration is someplace around 10% of collected lease. So we will claim this proprietor has a 2 family rental building and each system rents for $700. That implies the cost for specialist administration of this residential or commercial property will be in the area of $140 a month (10% of 700= $70 each, times 2 = $140). That equates to 7 hours of revenue for the owner. So if managing this property takes more time than 7 hours a month, or the administration of the building disrupts the job of the proprietor than the proprietor would actually be better off with an expert residential or commercial property manager.
The moment evaluation reveals that there is not a lot of money to be saved by handling the residential property on your own, particularly if you might use your time in the direction of job you are spent for. However, the moment analysis does disappoint the total advantages of residential property management. If taking care of residential or commercial property was very easy and predictable there would certainly be no residential or commercial property management companies. All of us know that real estate fixings can turn up apparently out of no place and late renters can turn into expulsions any time. The main price takes place during these times, when you require to evict occupants, repair the residential or commercial property, market and draw in brand-new renters, and rent the device to obtain rental revenue again. These are the times when homeowner with various other responsibilities truly lose time and cash. You see if a homeowner is incapable to handle the issues efficiently and loses just one month of rental revenue, they would certainly have lost sufficient cash to spend for close to a full year of specialist home administration in many cases!
Great residential property administration will enable you even more time to develop revenue or hang out with friends and family. More time is a good enough reason to employ a building manager but that is not the end of the benefits. Additionally reliable administration will certainly be able to pass cost savings on to the proprietor for routine repair services and maintenance with network specialists and vendors. They will certainly be able to make smooth changes from jobs to brand-new qualified occupants and make the most of Cashflow. So I will certainly conclude by prompting property owners with various other obligations to strongly take into consideration specialist management, because sometimes the price of trying to conserve money is just too expensive.
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